(Source: faint-ly, via lerakedavra)
(Source: hautecocouture, via parisnightsandnewyorklights)
(Source: foreverlarking, via emmacdwatson)
You look at me when I’m reading my book in bed and you tell me that I’m cold, that you can feel my distance, that you freeze around me. But I am burning, so hot that I can sometimes barely stand to be within myself, you simply can’t feel it because I radiate inward. I can see you pull your blankets around tighter, and all I can do is sweat against my sheets.
— Charlotte Green, I Only Love Myself (via heartique)
(via heartique)