New York

by Paige Turner

It felt so good to take in a moment with him, instead of a second glance or a photograph. Something warm that you can't forget and you can't look away from; lying in his arms and thinking how the way his hair falls over his eyes, and the rise and fall of his chest, and even the dirt under his nails is beautiful. Every piece of you swelling up all whole and complete like it hasn't in years. It's the kind of moment you know you'll look back on when it's all that's left of him. You're falling, and he's leaving soon, but you can't fight love. You just let it take you.

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Paige Turner writes for a living and is infatuated with her pen name.