#writbelr

Me writing in my head: *everything is perfectly poetic and on point*

Trying to bring these words on paper: *sounds like a three-year-old found a pencil*

A

“I hate you so much here is the stupidly disgusting coffee you always get!” And “Fuck you and your cute cat, whom I’m the one only able to give belly rubs to besides you” And “Shut up! don’t you have a mom to give white tulips to, cause that were the flowers your dad gave her on their first date?“

kind of ship just hits different.

Trope: when A is taken in by B, after being found hurt and unconscious

I open my eyes to the feel of something cold pressed against my chest. All I see is a blur of color, and all I can feel is pain. Pain in my side, my legs, the muscles of my arms, the sharp throb in my head.

Consciousness, it seems, is cruel—and I want to go back to sleep. But I can’t. Something feels wrong.

Then slowly, as I blink a few times, I see the metallic object take form into the metal shape of a stethoscope. They don’t press too hard against my chest.

Confused, I watch as the hand moves from one side of my chest to the other. They try to go lower, and I move my hand to stop them.

“You’re awake.” The voice comes from somewhere above me. Faintly, I recognize it. My pulse picks up.

I try and roll off the surface underneath me when their hand catches my shoulder, firmly rolling me back. At the touch, a soft whimper slipped through my lips— I bite down hard to silence the sound, but I know it’s already too late.

“Don’t move,” they say. Their words sound clipped—almost irritated. But the tone is gentle.

How… how could they find me? I shouldn’t be here. I had no memory of how I arrived.

good guy, or the bad guy?