all in vain.

❝ --- and you won't hear me when i say that it's all or nothing baby, please; these memories haunt me w h e r e v e r i go.

[boosiebitch]

[allisonhasbrouck]

y'all i'm so sorry i've been missing the last day or so-- actually having trouble uploading gifs and things in general on my building's wifi but they're going to fix it and increase bandwidth or something this weekend! imy all:(

[theliarsgifs]

[wyattrhds-blog]

He hesitated. “Because this won’t last forever. Nothing ever does.” It wasn’t said to hurt her, it just was. Like the  stars in the sky and the grass on the ground and the number of times a heart beat in a minute. And yeah, it pissed him off a little. Wyatt kind of wanted to kick the sidewalk and wander off to a bar so he could neutralize. But she was here and they were kissing, and it was so wonderful it made him feel like he had a million shards of glass in his gut and they were all trying to rip their way out. “Of course it’s for real.” Wyatt said so soft and low that his chest rumbled. It wasn’t often that he admitted things like that, but when he did it was seldom bullshit.

[allisonhasbrouck]

Although what he said was true, it was hardly just the right thing Allison wanted to hear in the moment. Either way, she didn’t need a promise of forever then-- perhaps one day, a promise of “until the very end” would come, and that was all she needed, really. But she knew Wyatt: she knew that these things could not, would not come easily for him, and that was okay, there was time. There was time. And she already knew that he would at least be her friend, steadfast and loyal, until the end of the line. They had made it this far. Allison breathed a sigh of relief. “Just- just checking.” A quick kiss. Alli slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze, as if searching for another spot where she could tangibly ensure he was there with her, returning her affection, verifying its reality.  “Good.”

[wyattrhds-blog]

“Not drunk,” Wyatt said, forehead pressed against hers. “Just stupid.” If he put his hands in his pockets, they pull out silver linings? And if he kissed her again, would the powers that be decide to plow a bus right into the both of them? Things like this rarely went well for him, and their successful match was one Wyatt almost couldn’t fathom. His face was redder than it ever was, and every time he moved, he could feel blood cells and nerves racing through him. Her lips didn’t taste like vodka, and if she was going to reveal her evil plan, she hadn’t done so yet. So Wyatt kissed her again, and again, and again— hoping it would get his point across. 

[allisonhasbrouck]

Allison laughed quietly. “Stupid? Why’s that?” she asked, tone light and teasing. Her nerves about his possible state of inebriation settled throughout her limbs, the tightness in her chest that held her heart in a firm grip loosened-- she kissed him back over and over, smiling into his mouth as she pulled him closer, drawing herself into him. For just those moments, Allison wasn’t wrought with fear: fear as to what would happen if they were discovered, fear of what this meant for them, fear of him not returning her affections completely or at all. The music of the streets, the invigorating night air, the feeling of his lips on hers-- all of it felt decisively too good to be true. “Are you- is this for real?” Allison questioned in disbelief, giddiness still in her words,  wide eyes meeting his beneath dark waves framing her petite face. 

[wyattrhds-blog]

Wyatt didn’t really know where his head was just then. But he wanted her to stop talking, and took two long strides forwards. Clasped her head in his hands. When his lips were pressed to hers, they danced with nervous fervour. His filled the gaps in her lips’ plush curves, and his eyebrows raised and slanted with impassioned requite. It was much easier to do than say. When Wyatt pulled away, eyes gooey with affection, he knew the volume of actions for what they were said to be. “You kind of already told me all of it,” Wyatt said, with a small laugh. He was so jealous before, and he was still so jealous now, but it felt a little better to be so close to her. Even when she could still say she didn’t want him. Even when she could still leave. Still, it didn’t make sense— the romantic proclamations, her husband, the dress. Wyatt flushed, and glanced down the street, unsure of what he should do next. “Do…um..that was okay, right?”

[allisonhasbrouck]

One moment he was there and the next he was here, very much here, his hands on her skin and his lips on hers. Allison let out a small breath of surprise before she leaned up into him and kissed him back, butterflies in her stomach very much alive. Warm and soft as she had remembered, as she’d remembered missing. Her nose gently brushed his as they moved against each other, lips moving against each other passionately, yet gently.  “Yeah,” she nodded once she broke away, biting her lip and flushing as she laughed with a joy only a first kiss-- a first real kiss-- could bring to her heart. “But shut up,” Allison breathed against his lips, although she smiled with a quiet excitement that was apparent in her cheeks. She looked at him with shining eyes, happiness dancing in her deep brown pair as she gazed at him through thick, fluttering eyelashes. Then a thought crossed her mind, already-- well, still-- wrought with doubt that he felt the same, that he felt anything more than friendship towards her at all. “You’re not drunk, are you?” she asked, eyebrows knitting as she inspected his facial features, searching for any signs of inebriation, remnants of any alcohol that could have driven him to do what he did. 

[miickcys-blog]

“i’m not a fan of this. i’m not a fan of this at all. i have enough issues with talking, and now whatever i say is going to be recorded and broadcasted all over the world. how amazing is that?” they sigh, chewing on their bottom lip. “this nine months can end soon.”

[allisonhasbrouck]

allison raised an eyebrow slightly. “did you not realize that before you went into this?” she asked. “i mean. it’s reality tv. they’ll edit a lot of shit out if it’s not exciting and dramatic, really.”

[wyattrhds-blog]

“Um,” Wyatt’s voice cracked. He was Pompeii and the sky was raining ashes. It was time to duck and run. “I— no.” A hand unearthed itself from its pocket, and found its way to the back of his neck. “You know what? Nevermind. It’s stupid.” Wyatt turned in a flourish of nerves. His cheeks were pinched red with 3rd grade rejection, and he moved with an air of disappointment he should’ve expected. This was what happened when you spilled your guts like a school boy at a confessional. You were left feeling 12 years old and valentineless. Her tongue was in his mouth that one time, and that’s all it was. She went to bed with him and then went home to Gus and he was no better than his own father. 

[allisonhasbrouck]

Allison shook her head. “No, say it,” she said quietly. “Because I don't-- I have to know, Wyatt." A small smile accompanied by nervous eyes. "I have to know if... if it's not just me. I don't want it to be just me. And if it's not just me, then I can... Then I can tell you that I miss you every time I leave a room or you're not around, and not talking to you killed me, and I wanna be with you. Sober. If it's not just me," Allison took a deep breath. The walls remained drawn, yet the words trickled over the dam, a steady stream. "If it's not just me, I can say that stuff and not sound absolutely stupid." A tightness in her chest. Allison was not often one to confess much of anything, especially sober. "But I can't tell with you. Honest to God, I have no idea about what's going on in your head. And it's even more confusing when you just don't talk to me, or get pissed off, or just-- shut off." Notes of frustration tainted the symphony of her words."I don't get why you're mad. I don't get what's going on, if anything's going on. For once, I don't get you." Her words left her lips with a sigh of exasperation and disappointment in herself, almost a sadness, that she didn't understand her best friend. A feeling entirely new to Allison, one that didn't sit well with her. This was Wyatt. Her best friend, her... her something else.

[wyattrhds-blog]

When she looked at him he felt sorry. Allison was sunshine, and all she wanted to do was let her rays kiss his skin. “I’m sorry,” Wyatt muttered, but she was gone. A referee called a foul, and his whistle rang off the walls of the living room. Sinking into the couch cushions sulkily, he tried to muster up some kind of feeling toward the game in front of him. There was only Allison, cloaked in pink and looking at her lap like a child expecting to be slapped. All at once, the brunette forced himself up and sighed. Don’t do this to me, he pleaded God (which he did do sometimes, but only when the liquor had run dry and the weed was in short supply). Don’t let me. Wyatt pushed open the door, shoving his hands so deep in his pockets he’d thought he’d find hell in the seams. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” He finally blurted, free of America’s television screens. Wyatt surprised himself. But the words came easy. “Or looking at you. Or wishing Gus would fall into the Seine, but he’s a nice guy and that’s a dirty river.” A laugh. He looked at the ground and his nerves sang. “I don’t know what to do.”

[allisonhasbrouck]

Silence hung in the air for a handful of moments after Wyatt followed her outdoors. Then the words bubbled over, and Allison turned around in surprise, eyes wide and almost doe-like as she listened to him speak, now lacking the weight of irritation and almost-anger. The defensive, annoyed walls she’d immediately flung up once Wyatt had been curt with her inside lowered tentatively, albeit not completely. “What- what do you mean?” she asked, meeting his eyes with a half-surprised, half-apprehensive and unsure expression. Perhaps he was just speaking as a friend. He didn’t know what he was saying. Surely he couldn’t mean it in the way she thought he could mean it. Maybe he was drunk. “Wyatt.” His name rolled off of her tongue as easily as ever. “You don’t know what you’re saying. D’you know what you’re saying? You can’t mean--” you can’t mean what I think you mean, can you? “Are you drunk?” Allison didn’t want to fall into any kind of unintentional trap where she would confess that she, too, thought about him constantly when they weren’t together, and when they were, she didn’t really see anyone else in the room, and how she felt when he just looked at her-- just for him to end up speaking platonically, or that his words stemmed from a bottle. 

[wyattrhds-blog]

What did she want him to say? The whole damn place was bugged, and he hardly wanted to talk about it. “I’m fine.” He said. They went in for the goal, but the opposing side fended off the kick. Wyatt wasn’t fine. He was somewhere between kissing her and going up to bed, but instead of making a decision, he sat on the sofa, locked in place. This was the worst feeling he knew. Wyatt never liked the way crushes felt, nor the misery they so often brought. Any second away from her, and he was thinking about her. Thinking stupid things. Like taking her to fancy restaurants on the Seine the way Gus did, and holding her hands…and touching her hair… and just having her, always. He was doomed, he knew. Doomed and terrified and half in love with socialite’s sorority daughter. “Your husband’s waiting for you.”

[allisonhasbrouck]

Wyatt’s word expressed that everything was fine, everything was okay, but that was the thing about being best friends-- she could tell it wasn’t okay. His body language, facial expressions, tone... reading Wyatt, at times, was as easy as reading a children’s book for Allison. Perhaps she couldn’t gather how he felt about her (if he felt anything for her, and the likely case was that he didn’t, she reminded herself) but he was making it all too easy right now. “Don’t... don’t say that,”Allison said quietly, looking down at her lap. Her ring finger shne with the representation of her commitment, and she tucked the hand beneath a throw blanket, not wanting to look at the reminder of her marital status. “I wanted-- wanted to hang out with you. What’s your problem, Wyatt?” Alli asked, a little exasperatedly. She met his gaze with a bewildered look in her eyes. She could tell he was holding back. Most likely not wanting to get mad at her on national television, call her out for whatever she did, or come across as rude with any words he might spill in irritation or even anger. Allison sighed and stood up, dress falling into place again as she moved towards the exit to go outside, hoping Wyatt would follow suit and leave the confines of a mic’ed up room and speak to her more freely outdoors. Beyond the walls of the house and garden, there was a bigger chance of him speaking his mind-- maybe. 

[wyattrhds-blog]

Wyatt shoved his hand in the bag of doritos at his side. “No,” he mumbled. “Liverpool’s 4-0. They’ve got this one in the bag.” A handful of chips were deposited in his mouth then, and the brunette chomped on them angrily. Don’t call him that, he mocked in his head. The very selfish parts of Wyatt wanted to ask if they’d decided on a name for their baby yet, but he held back. He was loathe to admit it, but she was better off with Gus than she was with him. Her husband. You’re married too, Wyatt reminded himself, but the truth of it was poor consolation. “Glad you had a nice time.” Wyatt said, mouth very full. This was how life was. Your friends settled down and got on without you. And the girl you hooked up with on accident that one time, who happened to be your best friend, found someone who could give the love he couldn’t. He was fine with that, really. Allison was never the end goal. At the end of the day, someone who wasn’t Wyatt would peel that dress off her. He’d have to learn to live with it. 

[allisonhasbrouck]

Allison glanced at the TV. Sure enough, Wyatt’s favorite English soccer team was up, completely crushing the competition. “Well that’s good, right? You should be happy,” Allison commented, scooting closer towards Wyatt. She watched his facial reactions out of the corner of her eye. Still grumpy. Nevertheless, she thanked him. “Yeah, it was good. Nice to be back, though,” she said, tone light. “Are you okay? Considering your team is killing it, you seem... off,” she settled, biting her lip hesitantly. “And I don’t think I did anything wrong, so...” Her words trailed off, voice a mixture of defensiveness and confusion. The date had been nice. But it didn’t get her heart racing, or her cheeks flushed with middle-school type nerves, or fill her stomach with butterflies. Like he did. She had just wanted to come back to him and sit and laugh and be around him, be with him, in the best way they could manage considering the situation, but Wyatt was being curt, and avoiding her gaze. “Wyatt?”

[wyattrhds-blog]

It was Liverpool’s 3rd game of the season, but Wyatt’s attention was on the players in the other room. He could hear Gus and Alli’s soft exchange, and if he leaned to the side just so, he could see them too. While Wyatt watched the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about grin and kiss another guy’s cheek, the sports anchor on tv shouted excitedly as Liverpool’s offense clamped down on Burton Albion. Better him than me, he tried to tell himself, but couldn’t keep from glancing over at her every ten seconds. She’d been sweaty and naked against him, it was true, but she looked more like her husband’s creature than she ever did. Wyatt’s insides twisted, and he glared in the direction of a guy that didn’t even know he was there. This was how it was supposed to go.  His eyes darted back to the screen as Alli walked through the door, a pretty pink vision oblivious to the living room’s only occupant. Wyatt was dressed in joggers and a soft gray t-shirt. Beside him, his one true love: a bag of cool ranch doritos. “You wouldn’t,” He answered, flatly. It was hard for him to feign joy. She was a petal pixie for her old flame, and the care she took to impress him was in the cascade of her hair and the twirl of her eyelashes. “Have a nice time with G.I. Joe?”

[allisonhasbrouck]

Allison settled into the couch with furrowed eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean? Just didn’t see you,” she replied. “You were so quiet.” She looked him over-- his muscles seemed tense, perhaps, she assumed, from the game before them on TV. Her fingers played with the ring on her finger as she observed Wyatt, his expression surlier than it was usually around her, especially as of late. His voice was flat and almost irritated. Allison’s eyes narrowed slightly at the nickname tacked on to his question. “Yeah, it was good. Don’t call him that,” Allison answered defensively. It wasn’t like he was taking her out to dinner, or expressed wanting to. “Dinner and dessert at this restaurant along the Seine, visited the Arc de Triomphe... Why, what’ve you been up to?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear and tilting her head inquisitively as she often did. “Did something happen?”

[allisonhasbrouck]

the lateness of the hour meant the living spaces in the house were mostly quiet. the kitchen appliances hummed, the tv in the living room spoke at a moderate volume: quiet for a home with twenty people in it, anyways. alli’s heels clicked on the wood floors as she entered the foyer with gus, and smiled through a quiet thank you and goodnight along with a peck on the cheek. “i’ll be up later,” she called after his ascending figure, waving at her roommate and spouse before turning to the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of water. her eyes scanned the living room, realizing that the figure seated on the sofa was no one other than wyatt. wyatt. his presence brought a smile to her lips. he was dressed much more casually than she was, considering she was in her date attire-- a light and flirty pale pink dress, nude heels, hair set in soft waves, eyelashes long and dark, blush that brought a glow to her cheeks, and shiny lips. she still thought he looked handsome, though, even so informally. “oh, hey,” she greeted him, grinning. “didn’t see you there.” alli walked over to the sofa and sat down. “you look comfy.”

[wyattrhds-blog]

Although the media had (for the most part) left Wyatt alone during his adolescent years, he knew the feeling. Even if he wasn’t an Entertainment Tonight regular, people still remembered. Anyone 35 and over looked at him like he was a leper, and there was the occasional photo of him beside ‘New York Senator Rob McConnell, 56′. Who, a lot like Allison’s mom, only cared to talk to him if Wyatt did something that would embarrass him. “God, being a public figure makes people such dicks,” He grumbled, thinking of his own father. That was one of the reasons they got along so well. Allison already knew what it was like to grow up with that kind of person, so she never asked stupid questions. But Wyatt was uninterested in divulging family issues right then (he never liked talking about his family) and was more interested in all of the food she was listing off. “What?” He teased, oblivious to how close his face was to hers. “Grilled cheese wasn’t enough for you?” Wyatt snickered. “Dude, you look fine. All of that running around Paris is doing the work for you.”

[allisonhasbrouck]

“Maybe that African belief of like, a photo taking away a piece of someone’s soul is true. That would make sense,” Allison wondered aloud, putting a finger to her chin thoughtfully. Considering her mother had been filmed and photographed for over thirty years, not much could be left at this point, if anything.  Her pupils expanded and eyes widened slightly as Wyatt’s face came into a closer proximity. “I mean, enough for now,” she smiled. “I have a broad palate, though, I think that’s how you say it. I need my choices, Wyatt.” Allison nodded towards him, a teasing smile on her lips. “’Fine’ does not cut it on Instagram. I’ve gotta like start doing pilates or running. Something god-awful like that. I snack too much to not do that.” Allison stood up and walked her plate over to the sink. “Okay, I cook next time,” she remarked, returning to her seat near the boy. The alcohol almost completely worked out of her mind meant that she was again more aware of movements and distances between them. Her cheeks flushed as she met his eyes with a small grin. “Thanks. For the food.” At this proximity, though, she was more thinking of his caring actions and his comment in the car. His kiss on her forehead. He really was something else. 

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

[baawri]

[wyattrhds-blog]

“I guess it isn’t really home that I miss…I mean, yeah. I miss the guys. And I miss that taco place around the block—” Wyatt sighed, eyes melting in submission. “So. Home. But like— I don’t know. Being able to exist. Without cameras or vows. I kind of just want to smoke weed in my underwear without having to worry about being arrested and put on the cover of the New York Post with some cheesy ass headline.” But that wasn’t all he wanted, not anymore. He wanted her. Whenever. Wherever. Without hurting Margo or being judged by the entire developed world. Wyatt wasn’t really sure when that changed; before or after they spent the night together— but it did. It was less about how pleasing her form was, and more about how much he didn’t want her to do stupid shit with someone else. He didn’t want her to get chip crumbs in Gus’ bed instead of his, and he didn’t want his fraternity brothers to take his place during beer pong. Wyatt liked everything better when she was there, and almost nothing when she wasn’t. Falling into Allison was an equation without a solution. You had to do all the long math before you figured out there wouldn’t be an answer, and when you did it was too late. Algebra made sense, though. Girls never did. “But yeah, we should cook more often. I’ve gotta stop eating out. I haven’t had a mono ab since before puberty.”

[allisonhasbrouck]

“That’s such a specific wish. But I get you. I’m pretty sure somebody’s gonna get  a picture of Jane Easton’s daughter drunk as hell in Paris and send it to some gossip blog, which I’m sure will result in just a lovely chat with her when I get back,” Allison sighed, rolling her eyes. The prospective of talking to her mother never put anything close to a smile on her face. “Or she might actually pick up her phone and call me, that would be a new one.” Allison raised her eyebrows as she bit into the last piece of the grilled cheese. “So basically, I just want to do all the stupid shit I usually do without getting judged on national TV for it. And getting tweeted at about it.” She let out a small chuckle as she thought about the messages she received over social media thanks to the reality show. Including the ones over the last week that had question after question about why the formerly attached at the hip best friends had not been seen in the same room together. After reading those-- and the ones that swore they could see that Allison and Wyatt were  #goals-- she’d been quieter online, checked her phone less often. Everything had been quieter without him, actually. Without him around, her life became decidedly empty-feeling. There were so many things she wanted to do and share with him constantly, especially since then. Perhaps that was what the saying “you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone” meant. Either way, she was glad they were here together, now. Although not as together as she’d like, and maybe it was just her. Maybe this together was enough for him and it was all he ever wanted out of it-- she hated the not knowing. Allison had always been an inquisitive person, wanting to have all the answers, but this was a question she’d never be able to research or read up the answer to. It was in Wyatt’s mind alone. “Yeah, we can make all kinds of things.Pastas, chickens, new dishes, smoothies... And work out. I should probably work out,” she remarked, looking own at her figure.