𝖽𝙧. 𝙧𝗼𝘣𝗂𝗇𝖺𝘃𝗂t𝖼𝘩.

i want us to dance until our heels bleed. we should stay like this forever, my temple on your shoulder, your hand on my waist; mine in your other. time should end here, between the soft tune on the radio and the orange light of dawn.