Guilt eats away at my heart. I shouldn’t entertain the idea of him. The war is like an endless storm: powerful, devastating, and destructive. His people are ruthless against my own, dominating the battlefield. Yet every meeting makes my stomach flip. The way his soft eyes lock onto my panicked ones from across the room, others shouting profanities in the background. The way he so genuinely smiles at me, though we’re supposed to be enemies. The times we sneak away from our families and steal a few selfish moments that leave me feeling as though I’m dancing in the clouds. He makes my raging thoughts of war quiet into mere murmurs, like a violent ocean calmed into small waves. For a second, I wonder how I could have ever lived without his warm touch.

(idk what im doing guys 🙁)