❛　　his freckles become lighter in the sun. it shines its rays down on him, like a halo, or a stage light. he smells like chlorine and his fingers taste like melted popsicles, the way the water stains his hands is like the crinkle of skin near his eyes when he smiles. oh, it’s a glorious sight, and he’s nearly untouchable. but i’ve tasted the beams on his skin, kissed down patterened shoulders and traced constellations on his freckled back. he is my perfect summertime love, even if he departs at the end of each day.　　❜
　　—　HELIOS. / kai. (via ronanlynhh)

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