02-24-2017, 06:17 PM
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display|Jaldi' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .lelianaone_container { position: relative; z-index: 1; background-color: #1C1F1E; width: 600px; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 1px #000; } .lelianaone_container p { margin: 0; } .lelianaone_image { position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 600px; } .lelianaone_gradient { position: absolute; z-index: 4; width: 100%; height: 513px; top: 396px; background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%, rgba(28,31,30,1) 100%); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(28,31,30,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(28,31,30,1) 100%); filter: progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#007db9e8', endColorstr='#1c1f1e',GradientType=0 ); } .lelianaone_text { position: relative; z-index: 5; width: 580px; margin-top: -465px; background-color: rgba(28, 16, 14, 0.9); padding-top: 20px; } .lelianaone_message { position: relative; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; color: #575f5d; padding: 0px 35px 20px; } .lelianaone_quote { position: relative; text-align: left; color: #5c5c59; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 35px; } .lelianaone_quotebottom { position: relative; text-align: right; color: #5c5c59; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-right: 35px; } </style> <center> <div class="lelianaone_container"> <img class="lelianaone_image" src="https://i.imgsafe.org/aa1c5bd0cb.jpg"> <div class="lelianaone_gradient"></div> <div class="lelianaone_text"> <p class="lelianaone_quote">I waited for something and something died <br>so I waited for nothing and nothing arrived</p> <p class="lelianaone_message">
She felt the warmth of him surrounding her, pulling her in closer, and she sighed against it, her body yielding to the pressure of him pulling her closer. His mouth on her neck, hovering just above the flesh so that the heat of his breath rolled gently over the muscle and hair. She inhaled and hiss scent came with it, something heady and earthy, the metallic of his blood and the dried sweat on his neck all just part of what made him, him. The pressure in her chest did not ease, did not quiet—it simply grew, consuming all of her as the woken part of her mind turned toward him hungry. She shouldn’t want him here, and she did.
Another tear fell down her cheek, and then another. They were unhurried and soft, silent as they slid down, wetting the delicate skin underneath her closed eyes. She made a soft strangled noise as she curled into him further, her wing of snow almost gripping him as she did. This was a dream, she whispered in her mind, because she needed that to be true. Because she couldn’t bear the pain of having him right here and then having to face the truth—of having to know that this was temporary, that this was fleeting.
She couldn’t bear to be this close to the sun again. She wasn’t sure that she’d survive it.
But another part of her starved for him, and her head angled just slightly so her mouth could find his leg, his chest. It rested there, above his heart, her breath coming unsteadily as he flooded her senses, her tongue drunk with him. Her brow furrowed with all of the things unsaid between them, the hurt that still bruised her heart, the memories that played over and over again in her mind—the things that made it so difficult to sleep. The things that hollowed out her already slender face, that brought fresh shadows to her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever heal from you,” she confessed in the quiet, pressing her broken heart into the hands of this dream, trying to cling to the sleep, to the hazy gauze that made all of this bearable. Another tear on her cheek, a shaky breath. For all the things in nature she could heal, for all the wrongs she could erase, the hurts that she could make disappear, this was the one she wasn’t sure she could surmount.
And the worst part was knowing part of her was glad for it, because having him live there—a constant reminder in her shattered chest, fragmented glass in her lungs—was better than not having him at all.
</p> <p class="lelianaone_quotebottom">it's our dearest ally, it's our closest friend <br>it's our darkest blackout, it's our final end</p> </div> </div> </center>
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#007db9e8', endColorstr='#1c1f1e',GradientType=0 ); } .lelianaone_text { position: relative; z-index: 5; width: 580px; margin-top: -465px; background-color: rgba(28, 16, 14, 0.9); padding-top: 20px; } .lelianaone_message { position: relative; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; color: #575f5d; padding: 0px 35px 20px; } .lelianaone_quote { position: relative; text-align: left; color: #5c5c59; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 35px; } .lelianaone_quotebottom { position: relative; text-align: right; color: #5c5c59; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-right: 35px; } </style> <center> <div class="lelianaone_container"> <img class="lelianaone_image" src="https://i.imgsafe.org/aa1c5bd0cb.jpg"> <div class="lelianaone_gradient"></div> <div class="lelianaone_text"> <p class="lelianaone_quote">I waited for something and something died <br>so I waited for nothing and nothing arrived</p> <p class="lelianaone_message">She felt the warmth of him surrounding her, pulling her in closer, and she sighed against it, her body yielding to the pressure of him pulling her closer. His mouth on her neck, hovering just above the flesh so that the heat of his breath rolled gently over the muscle and hair. She inhaled and hiss scent came with it, something heady and earthy, the metallic of his blood and the dried sweat on his neck all just part of what made him, him. The pressure in her chest did not ease, did not quiet—it simply grew, consuming all of her as the woken part of her mind turned toward him hungry. She shouldn’t want him here, and she did.
Another tear fell down her cheek, and then another. They were unhurried and soft, silent as they slid down, wetting the delicate skin underneath her closed eyes. She made a soft strangled noise as she curled into him further, her wing of snow almost gripping him as she did. This was a dream, she whispered in her mind, because she needed that to be true. Because she couldn’t bear the pain of having him right here and then having to face the truth—of having to know that this was temporary, that this was fleeting.
She couldn’t bear to be this close to the sun again. She wasn’t sure that she’d survive it.
But another part of her starved for him, and her head angled just slightly so her mouth could find his leg, his chest. It rested there, above his heart, her breath coming unsteadily as he flooded her senses, her tongue drunk with him. Her brow furrowed with all of the things unsaid between them, the hurt that still bruised her heart, the memories that played over and over again in her mind—the things that made it so difficult to sleep. The things that hollowed out her already slender face, that brought fresh shadows to her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever heal from you,” she confessed in the quiet, pressing her broken heart into the hands of this dream, trying to cling to the sleep, to the hazy gauze that made all of this bearable. Another tear on her cheek, a shaky breath. For all the things in nature she could heal, for all the wrongs she could erase, the hurts that she could make disappear, this was the one she wasn’t sure she could surmount.
And the worst part was knowing part of her was glad for it, because having him live there—a constant reminder in her shattered chest, fragmented glass in her lungs—was better than not having him at all.
</p> <p class="lelianaone_quotebottom">it's our dearest ally, it's our closest friend <br>it's our darkest blackout, it's our final end</p> </div> </div> </center>
![[Image: avatar-1975.gif]](https://i.postimg.cc/8PxJp5dv/avatar-1975.gif){kind=avatar}
the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity