on sundays he was warmth, a cup of earl grey tea in hand and messy hair draped over the edge of the baby blue bedspread. he would always scrunch his eyebrows when the sun met his face, his eyes struggling to stay shut, at all costs.
on sundays he was warmth, a cup of earl grey tea in hand and messy hair draped over the edge of the baby blue bedspread. he would always scrunch his eyebrows when the sun met his face, his eyes struggling to stay shut, at all costs.