By Astrum
you don’t have to demand me — i give myself the moment your eyes soften. when you speak with quiet certainty, it feels like gravity brushing my spine — reminding me that falling is safe when it’s into you. i obey not because i must, but because you make devotion taste like freedom and love feels like breath. say stay and i will curl into your chest like a song that never wants to end. tell me wait and i will sit patiently, because i know the wait ends with your smile. you don’t break me — you hold me until all my sharp edges melt into the shape of us. with you, Obedience is not surrender. it’s coming home. again, and again, and again.
"i’d memorize you in ways you forgot you existed" by Astrum
i wouldn’t ask for permission to admire you — i’d just do it. quietly. thoroughly. like i was built to notice you and no one else.
i’d memorize the way your breath hitches when you’re almost smiling, the exact second your eyes soften when you let your guard down, and the curve of your lips when you almost say what you’re scared to feel.
i’d learn you like my favorite song — not rushed, but looped forever. until every sigh, every glance, every unspoken ache was part of my heartbeat.
and when you forget how rare you are, i’d whisper it against your neck, press it into your skin, etch it into your bones — until you remembered that being wanted never had to hurt.