It wasn't the most obvious love poem. One would have to have been half the places they'd been to get any of the references; the park, the hotel, the old base, the clubs Devin had played at.
But there were little memories hidden between the lines. And moments, like Warren had mentioned, with thoughts that he'd written out in poetry form. It might have been something innocuous. It might have been expression of love for the world, for the spirit of humanity in general.
It wasn't.
Every little moment Warren had been standing, sitting, lying there so close and he could have just turned his head was there, covering two pages eventually. Every moment he had stopped to listen to Devin's breathing and wondered how it could make such a difference. Every impulse to touch further, deeper than he had, and had kept his hand to his side.
no subject
But there were little memories hidden between the lines. And moments, like Warren had mentioned, with thoughts that he'd written out in poetry form. It might have been something innocuous. It might have been expression of love for the world, for the spirit of humanity in general.
It wasn't.
Every little moment Warren had been standing, sitting, lying there so close and he could have just turned his head was there, covering two pages eventually. Every moment he had stopped to listen to Devin's breathing and wondered how it could make such a difference. Every impulse to touch further, deeper than he had, and had kept his hand to his side.