you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you love him. but you love him. and there’s a song playing on the radio that makes his face light up brighter than the streetlights illuminating the rain slicked road beneath you, and he sings along, his voice loud and off-key but still beautiful because he’s beautiful, and now this song is forever in the back of your mind as one of your favorites.
you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you love him. but you love him. and when you look at him, the words climb up from your heart and into your throat, where they sit and wait for release. but you swallow them down because you’re afraid. terrified. and you don’t want to be; you want to be brave and strong, but you’re anything but. he makes you weak, makes you melt. makes you wish you could scream louder than the radio everything you feel for him so he finally knows why this song makes it ways onto your future playlists.
you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you love him. but you love him. and behind tinted windows and locked doors, you feel safer than you ever had. and you forget about all that is happening outside of this car - all of the bullshit and chaos and everything else that exhausts your soul. nothing else matters, because you’re in a car with a beautiful boy. (and he won’t tell you that he loves you. but he loves you.)
(cc, 2019) // v2.
hatin
