TwentyOneLove

The only way to really describe it is by imagining some girl with a skirt and striped socks on, arms outstretched and walking down a hallway.  Lavendar turns to turquoise beneath the fingertips.  The thin carpet covering the cement floor makes a soft thud under the feet.  But you'd kinda have to be there to understand. She's sitting up on the bed, legs folded indian style, looking for something to draw on with his Sharpie.  She fancies the thought of this lasting forever, giggling to herself, and the computer screen glows on his bland expression. The sheets feel like cold plastic and she falls asleep on his shoulder, with her head tucked un