She’s mine. I don’t want anyone else getting the same butterflies I get when she smiles or says my name. I don’t want anyone else making her blush or calling her “babe.” Call me selfish I don’t care. She’s mine.
I want someone like that!
I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’
— Azra.T, My Heart is Full of Open Windows (via aestheticintrovert)