"How long are you planning to hold my hand?"
He had said, getting aggravated.
She had giggled and smiled at him ever so sweetly
"Forever."
"You're scary!"
was all he managed to say.
And now, he's sitting there holding her hand like its his lifeline, watching her broken body, begging silently for her to wake up.
"How long am I planning to hold your hand..?" the silent question seems to linger in his mind as he watches her unconscious form.
"Forever." He whispers.
A.N.
Aha, so I decided to write in a different style, hope y'all like it.
Thanks for reading this far! Love y'all
( ˘ ³˘)❤
- GlowStarr
YOU ARE READING
Facades
PoetryA dash of poetry, sprinkles of prose and a ton of dramatic ramblings. Welcome to my little world of spontaneous sentiments.
