Her hair was soft, her hands were soft, her lips were soft. Her eyes were soft. Her voice was soft, even when she was loud and laughed a little too much and snorted. Even her thoughts were soft. In a world so coarse and rough all I wanted to do was hold her and keep the softness close and let her dull my senses. But even though she dulled my sharp edges, I had to let her go in fear of cutting her soft skin.
i touched you a million times and every time i’ve left a scar | jocelyn (via svcredstars)
oh my god in red wheelbarrow, elliot’s giving a bunch of anecdotes from when angela and he were kids. he memorized the order in which baseball cards were packaged for sale so that when they went to the deli down the street they’d go to the baseball cards and he would know which pack would have her favorite ball player in it. “I’d find him every time for her. She ended up with like 18 original Piazza cards.” he loves her so much. ;v;
