I realise just how fucking much I need him. I don’t want to walk this world alone. Not ever again. I want our lazy Sundays in each other’s arms, and slow, drugging kisses and exploring, teasing touches. I want his laughter. I want his mind and his comfort. I want his pride and his love. I want his kindness, his determination. I want to see the way he sees the world. I want his texts and his dirty promises, his thick, strong hands holding me close. I want his affection like I’m the only one he has ever loved. As if my body is his drug and he’s an addict.