I wish he wouldn’t smile at me like that. I wish he wouldn’t swim closer. I wish I could think clearly enough to swim away. But I can’t. I continue to weakly slosh water at him until he’s close enough to wrap his hand around my wrist. I want to whimper at the sight of him. Strong jaw, moody mouth, green eyes, wet hair. And the feel of him . . . it’s unreal.
— Jun 19, 2024 03:06AM
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