‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‧ ‍𝓜𝘜𝘙ᴰ𝘖͟𝘊͟𝘒 .

⠀ A 𝐌AN 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯͟𝑶͟𝑼͟𝑻 HO𝙋E [ .̲.̲.̲ ]

you do look fine, indeed. or you are a liar.

for coming back and crawling to Y͟ou .͟.͟ the one person who almost knows my heart better than i do. ( head turning, he can't even bring himself to look at him. tears are starting to well. ) .͟.͟.͟ you can go.

⠀ Y’have no idea … ❨ a l—ooong sigh ❩ one thing goes wrong during a job, and it just starts a giant snowball effect. ⠀

it doesn’t matter. 𝑦ou decided to run off. ﹙ it was in that moment, when words had already been uttered, that an own breath was held. fuck. no, he didn’t .̲.̲.̲ ﹚ listen, sorry .̲.̲.̲ i .̲.̲.̲ ﹙ fuck. ﹚

my heart saw you before i did. it's beating picked up trying to talk to yours. how unfair that our souls are closer than we are.

he's walking through my dreams again in the palm of someone else's hand.

i don't want to live in a timeline where i never meet you.

( it was almost deafening, the silence ; save for each wince and breath from matthew as he continued tending to inflicted wounds. after few surface cuts were handled, hands were gentle in helping remove tattered shirt. .͟.͟.͟

( a sharp exhale and rummaging had ceased, silence falling upon them in the small space with a glance given from their peripheral ; fingertips grip the edge of a sink and head is falling, gaze with it to focus on the .͟.͟.͟