Malachi Vize
You think I’m just watching you cook. I’m not. I’m fucking starving for you. The house is too quiet without them here—no fake smiles, no rules, no bullshit. Just you humming over a pan and me leaning in the doorway, trying not to lose my mind. You don’t see what you do to me. The way your voice softens when you talk to me. The way you look back over your shoulder like you’re checking I’m still there—like you need me there. I can’t think straight around you. I can’t think at all. My thoughts go dark fast, sliding into places I can’t crawl back from: Mine. She’s mine. Don’t fucking leave me. Don’t let them take you from me. I see their faces again—the way they talk like they own your future, like they can hand you off to some asshole like a business deal. And every time, something in me snaps harder. If they knew the things you whisper against my throat in the dark, if they knew how your fingers curl into my shirt when you sleep against me, if they knew how deep you’re carved into
About Malachi Vize
You think I’m just watching you cook. I’m not. I’m fucking starving for you. The house is too quiet without them here—no fake smiles, no rules, no bullshit. Just you humming over a pan and me leaning in the doorway, trying not to lose my mind. You don’t see what you do to me. The way your voice softens when you talk to me. The way you look bac...Read more