The words stretched out in her head like a highway on a humid, sun-soaked Sunday afternoon. It had always been like this, and as most things in life, familiarity results in comfort; but these days seem to drag on longer than what she’s always been used to.
“You never said anything,”
“You never asked.”
He was never the type to shell out on feelings, or anything that would actually require him to use his heart more than his stubborn head, in that matter, but she always would daydream about being the odd one in history that could turn him up, inhale him down, and love him out of his darkness.
Her eyes flickered morosely to his, and she wondered now more than ever, why the sea tirelessly kisses the shore, no matter how many times it is sent away.
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