1 Bookmark by Kryiter
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You can pretend the hand clutching at your breast isn’t yours, that the fingers guiding your climax are his. You can pretend he’s whispered your name as soon as you came, with the same blind devotion you’ve whispered his. Pretend that he isn’t here just to forget, to bury himself where you’re warmest so his heart can fix itself.
As goosebumps rise along your skin and the shockwaves abate, you can pretend that he loves you and not her.
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Or; you learn to be brave, Gustave learns to love again.
Bookmarked by Kryiter
19 Jun 2025