Rebecca Paula

This girl is magic. She's wild incantations. She's that spark that lit me back to life and I'm burning for her.

She throws her jeans at me and dives into the pellucid lake, slicing through the water almost without a splash. A church bell rings out in the distance, echoing in the quiet aftermath of Everly__ quick jump into the unexpected.

Skinny-dipping is like Paris. It's always a good idea.

I remember the way his eyes pinned my body against the backdrop of Paris as if I was some rare butterfly pinned to an exhibit box.

There is never going to be a good time for us. You can__ force together two objects whose edges are worn in some spots and jagged in others. We__e not puzzle pieces. We__e two people who have a world of shit between them. But my mind is quiet when our gazes meet.