Ankahee

there is a bitterness in the scent swirling over your dark, strong brew, while you look at me with those endlessly melancholic eyes, searching my face for signs that will give way what goes on in the equally endless depths of my existence. "a penny for your thoughts?" my lips curl upwards on their own - well before i can halt their misbehaviour - and i can feel the tips of my ears turn pink, for nobody really cares about what i think (that's what i thought) and yet here you are, offering me a penny in exchange for being let in on the quiet chaos i guard so carefully. so i try to swallow the resolute hesitance that claws into my inhibitions, and choke out, my voice somewhere halfway between a shiver and a shudder. "just...you know, the weather." i can feel your sigh kiss my cheek every so lightly, and there is a need in your itchy palms to pull me out of my walls, there is an urgency in your nimble fingers to touch the world my