This is part of a story that I never finished... guys POV

She assures me that the bruises on hers knees are because she can never remember not to hit the wall. She drones on and on about how her brain is full of scars. The two of us are sandwiched together,sitting between the roots of an old tree. The moonlight hits the grass and turns it neon green the night is to bright for our eyes so we shut them simultaneously and we start to dream. There is a dull pain in my back that keeps reminding me that we are not as young as we use to be. The air between is electric and stale I can feel her breathing in sync with mine, our heart beats grow faster and in this light her face looks as if it was carved from stone, so smooth and still. I know now that I don't want the moon to go down, that I want to take this moment and keep it in a jar of formaldehyde because I don't want to forget the October chill or the color of her hair. She interrupts my thoughts with own she wonders out loud if the trees grow high because they are trying to reach the stars.

let your love lockdown.

I shutter awake drifting in and out of fever dreams, the room in pitch black but I can tell that He is still awake, I can feel him thinking.His minds all about broken bones and bad news, his mind is racing his heart rate to, he drags in shallow breaths. To his disadvantage, he has no offense and his best defense is a fuck you to all of them who insist that he will never win. He tries to clear his head and get some sleep, but he can shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach that is sickly sweet, he’s addicted to the way their voices sound when they tell him he doesn’t have a chance. The a.m.'s have our eyes stitched open and I wonder if he can feel me breath, the air is warm and he is secure in his Insecurities, he is almost sure that he can't pull it off and smiles while falling asleep he might be wrong, but they Can’t always win.

-meagan.