thoughtsonfire: beds with a white duvet, white sheets, and white pillows hands (especially having mine held by you) walking nowhere in particular sitting next to you with our shoulders touching picking up groceries without a list watching sunsets on hot summer days listening to the sound of waves deep breaths that seem to make everything a little more bearable
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I wish I could just rot under this tree. That’s my wish; to sleep, sleep,...– Arimura Ryutaro, リラの木 (via skeletales)