queerbluestocking: the smell of rain on wet stone. a cool wind ruffling your hair, the evening like
queerbluestocking: the smell of rain on wet stone. a cool wind ruffling your hair, the evening like a damp kiss on your cheek, the tote bag of newly-discovered secondhand books heavy in your elbow. the light is rose and gold, and inside waiting for you there is tea, and warmth, and freshly baked lavender and lemon cake. -- source link