(A/N) This doesn't fit anywhere in the storyline, oh well. 100 words, I thought it would be fun.
It's hard not fitting. Not having a place to belong, not having that one special part of existence that you can call home. It's harsh, it hurts, it rips you apart everyone morning and leaves you shredded at night. It's lonely.
But everyone fits some where, someplace…
My hand in his… fit. His lips against mine… fit. And in his arms… was home.
His ginger curls tangled in my fingers, holding them just as his arms held me against him. It was right. He fit perfect inside of me, I fit perfect in his arms.
This was my whole world.