ViggOrli Drabble # 1
Orlando rarely remembers details.
He'd remember the sweetness of a kiss, the numbness of loss, the bitterness of regret. He'd remember doing this and saying that and feeling and realizing and knowing and almost everything in between.
And yet he couldn't remember who, when, what, where, how, why...
He never bothers.
But, in the early hours of dawn, when he'd feel calloused hands against bare skin, a strong chest against his back, warm breath against his nape, raspy voice whispering antiquated words...
He'd find himself remembering...
"I love you, angel..."
A name.
Lingering... Like guilt does...
He'd remember the sweetness of a kiss, the numbness of loss, the bitterness of regret. He'd remember doing this and saying that and feeling and realizing and knowing and almost everything in between.
And yet he couldn't remember who, when, what, where, how, why...
He never bothers.
But, in the early hours of dawn, when he'd feel calloused hands against bare skin, a strong chest against his back, warm breath against his nape, raspy voice whispering antiquated words...
He'd find himself remembering...
"I love you, angel..."
A name.
Lingering... Like guilt does...