zeusandrew
zeusandrew:

Summer is to youth as a good book is to a quiet Sunday afternoon. They hold hands, take long walks together and get lost in each other’s gaze. They enchant one another and to them everything is marvelous. From the way the warm breeze feels against their skin to the way every word spoken in the shade of their raised hands come out a whisper. They lie there together, watching the clouds go by and wishing their time together was as infinite as the number of grains of sand covering every single beach in the world.

zeusandrew:

Summer is to youth as a good book is to a quiet Sunday afternoon. They hold hands, take long walks together and get lost in each other’s gaze. They enchant one another and to them everything is marvelous. From the way the warm breeze feels against their skin to the way every word spoken in the shade of their raised hands come out a whisper. They lie there together, watching the clouds go by and wishing their time together was as infinite as the number of grains of sand covering every single beach in the world.