daffa amar

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he’s a walking piece of candy, soft on the eyes and the tongue. if he looked at you wrong, you’d probably melt like a lollipop in the sun.

Daffa Amar is like a milkshake at 3 a. m. Smooth. Sweet. No regrets.

He’s the reason I skipped breakfast today. And probably lunch.

I saw him in the grocery store and walked out with a bag of chips and a hard-on.

he’s the kind of guy who makes your heart do a backflip and your brain do a faceplant. he’s basically a golden ticket to happiness.

He walked into the room and I forgot how to breathe. And also how to spell my own name.

If he smiled at me, I’d probably sign my soul over to him.

He’s the reason my ex is now a ghost in my house.

he’s so good looking, he probably got a free pass to heaven. and he’s nice to boot. like, really nice. like, annoyingly nice.

He’s the kind of guy who could make a saint jealous. And a saint would still pick him over a sandwich.

He’s so nice, I want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

He’s the only person who could make me forget my own name. And I didn’t even need a drink for that.