Note 17
Notes
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It's winter and Tiffany forgot to bring her gloves so she asked if she could put her hands in my pockets.
She stood behind me and wrapped her arms around me, clasping her hands inside the pocket of my hoodie and resting her head on my shoulder.
I could hear her breathing and it was warm on my ear.
I could feel her fingers making little circles on my stomach through my shirt and hoodie.
I was secretly hoping the bus crashed into a ditch and would never make it to our stop so she wouldn't have to move away from me.
I feel weird.
I feel warm.
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