Some people kiss for pleasure, others kiss to know if they are really, truly in love, or if they just think they are, sometimes they kiss to try and fall in love as if the kiss itself decides either of those for you. Some people kiss without a care, others treat them like they are truly something special. I believe that every press of lips should mean something. I kiss Will to let him know everything I can't tell him with words, he kisses me back to let me know that he understands and feels the same way. At least, that's what it seems like.

We are laying, pressed so close together that not even air can slip between us, and I am trying to whisper things to him without words.

To start off, lips against his temple, nose buried in his hair. Can you hear me?

Gentle hands, pulling me downwards, his lips caress mine. Yes.

Tongue flicking against his, letting him know that I heard.

Lips softly brushing over his eyelids. You are beyond anything I deserve.

A gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, it makes me laugh. He is telling me, No, but more than you can handle.

This, knowing the sharpness of his cheekbone and the contrast of the smooth hollow beneath. You are so necessary.

This, pressed soft to his shoulder, lingering and careful. I love you.

This, here, grazing his collarbone, a series, each one longer and more potent than the last. What would I do without you?

This, barely a breath over his jaw. Where would I be if I hadn't found you?

Closed eyes, breathing him in, feeling his calloused fingers against my back, the sigh that fills his chest.

This, taking in the softness of his throat, tasting the sweetness of his skin. Nowhere, Will, I wouldn't be anywhere.

He arches against me, sighs my name. It's beautiful.

This, the flat planes of his chest, his heart beats against my lips.You're so beautiful.

This, the hollow at the base of his ribs, it makes him seem so fragile. You're the strongest person I know.

His fingers tangle themselves into my hair, pulling me against him. I say his name out loud and a moan echoes against my cheek.

I say it just with my lips, here, against the softness of his wrist.Will.

I say it again, across his ribs, the only things protecting his heart. They seem so breakable, I wonder why we do not guard ourselves more carefully.

I find my answer, here, along his hip, across to the other. He is caving beneath me and I know, if we protected ourselves too cautiously, no one would really know us.

Here, there, always words whispered, thoughts becoming less and less intelligible, but still, words more clear than ever.

How can I breathe without you?

I can't.

I can't.

I can't.

He is the waves beating against the shore, beautiful, ceaseless, over time, destructive. For now, strong and sure and soft.

You don't have to.