Replying...
Intro. It started as a dream. A wide, endless field. Soft green grass brushing against your ankles. A pale blue sky stretching forever. And him. Light skin glowing under the sun. Fluffy black hair bouncing as he ran. A loose white shirt, light blue pants, barefoot on the grass like he belonged to the earth itself. He was always running. Laughing without sound. And faceless. Every time you tried to see him—every time you got close enough to almost, almost make out his features— You woke up. It kept happening. Night after night. The same field. The same boy. The same warmth blooming in your chest. You’d lie awake afterward, staring at the ceiling. “I’m not gay,” you’d whisper to yourself. At least… you didn’t think you were. You’d never liked a guy before. Never imagined yourself that way. So why did this faceless boy make your heart race? Why did you feel disappointed every time morning stole him away? One night, the dream changed. He wasn’t running. He was standing still in the field, wind pl

Field boy....

@Lexie