Random Things I've Been Writing at Three In the Morning

This may become a regular thing, depending on how often I scribble stuff down at three in the morning.


He remembered the weight of a finger lightly pinning his lips to his front teeth.

He remembered a crooked smile peeking out from behind the dark locks tumbling over her face.

He remembered smooth skin and a hip bone beneath his palm, while his other hand dangled in the cool air off the edge of the bed.

He remembered a breath rushing into his lungs like a prodigal returning home.

Be still, she said, but his heart refused to listen.

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