black && blue

✧･ﾟ:* — her e y e s and words are so icy oh but she b u r n s like rum on the fire h o t and fast and angry as she can be i walk my days on a wire. anastasia reyes.

[legcndss]

          “i’m STILL pissed about last night. some other bitch was trying to work my corner. what kind of person just goes and tries to take over another girls corner? jesus fuckin’ christ, people these days.”

[anastaslas]

“wow. that’s terrible. how are you going to get your revenge? murder?”

[honeytngue]

‘ EXCUSE ME, do you happen to know how much a polar bear weighs? ’

[anastaslas]

“really? out of all the lines, you’re going with that? please tell me you’re kidding.”

[elliemahcney-blog]

Ellie, unsurprisingly, had her nose buried in a book as she curled further into her cozy corner of the Starbucks she’d been sitting in for the last hour or two. Her books were spread out around her, notes joining them and a pencil tucked between her teeth. She’d always been a fairly diligent student and studying well in advance of her finals was occupying most of her time as of late. She glanced up at the clearing of a throat and flushed deeply, “S-sorry, hi. I’m t-taking up t-too much space, a-aren’t I? H-here, let me—” She trailed off as she cleared the table of everything she wasn’t immediately concerned with, allowing the person across from her the opportunity to sit. “I-is that enough room?”

[anastaslas]

“no, no, i wasn’t—” anastasia couldn’t help but chuckle softly. she had been clearing her throat not to get the woman’s attention but to get rid of the itch in the back of her throat. “this is more than enough room, actually. sorry for crashing your studying, i’ve never seen it so packed here,”

[siiriiusoblack]

Miles sat on the small bench, observing the small crowd as they passed. Probably the first round of tourists for the season seeing as they all dressed up, ready to meet the love of their life– their soulmate. Miles laughed lightly at the idea, he knew a few people who hadn’t found what they were looking for in a soulmate but were stuck with them all the same. “I don’t know why they come all the way here for two weeks, expecting to find their other half whenever their soulmate or whatever could’ve been here three weeks ago and they totally missed them,” Miles shrugged. 

[anastaslas]

“yeah, i bet that hasn’t crossed their minds. they probably think the stars will align and fate will bring them together.” the idea couldn’t be any more idiotic and anastasia can’t help but roll her eyes. “you think people would realize by now how ridiculous the entire thing is,”

[anastaslas]

[kylehttp]

un(bound)

[kylehttp]

the elevator did not come quickly, and he could still hear faint laughter from the room. they stood in small talk silence with his half-assed fear to break the thin veneer that kept the unsaid still unsaid. “i’m sorry about that back there,” tight-lipped and tongue-tied, he said, watching the numbers descend towards them. small coffee dates in small coffee-stained papers of small stories of love and dreams and the loss of love and the loss of dream. he told her, with the doors opening and as they shuffled in with three other people inside, that perhaps it was only because writers so rarely wrote of hospitals being romantic  ( and that he was sorry, and that he was going to change that ). 

one of the men inside sneezed a floor above from the cafeteria, softly and politely, and he wished him the appropriate blessings before they stepped out of the elevator; his nails digging deep into his fingers, biting the gnawing magnetism to place his palm on the small of her back as they walked.

there were no chairs but there were metals benches with light blue paint peeling on corners and the little lattice holes. there was music playing to fill the stale air, and he tried to figure out what song it as the track ended. “why don’t you - uhh - why don’t you – i’ll just go get us some coffee.”  no display of etiquette to pull a chair for ana, then, which was a debate of whether it being fortunate or not. his dollars were wrinkled and some were folded, but the cashier behind the little register still smiled at him, greeting him with a small ‘hey’ and asking where his father was – russell or richard, perhaps, was what she meant. he entertained it with small pleasantries as a young man dispensed coffee out of a thermostat. these places always had the most watered-down yet strongest cups. he wondered what their tea would taste like, then.

lenny kravitz was softly singing from the little stereos along the walls of the cafeteria, and a hospital staff had his head swaying through the beats. his phone buzzed in his pockets and it was from antonio: “ask her her favoites! and stop looking as if you’ve won the lottery without even though you never purchased a goddamn ticket!” antonio supplied that the last part was all mr. king, and he did not doubt it.

ah – maybe he should have done that earlier because he thought he saw the young man put too much cream into their coffees. weird.

“i hope you, uhh – “ sliding down and over the benches was so much easier when he was in high school and in a hurry to not be the nail stuck out, lest be hammered down, “i hope you take your coffee with extra cream on them because uhh – “ and then he was laughing, chuckling and eyes closed in musing and lips bit. he looked at her through his lashes and his aged dreams. “sorry, i just thought about how the first time i met you and i wish they served beer here – you know, for the atmosphere.” there were no guitar music nor smoke in the air, but still. he lifted his little cup with nimble fingers and raised it to a toast. “so, friend,” the word did not taste as sweet as the other words he had been itching to paint her with, but the coffee made it easier to swallow down, “what’s your favorite color?”

schoolboy words with a schoolboy crush.

[anastaslas]

“oh, no! it’s okay.” she reassured him, flashing a smile for added measure. "they kind of remind me of the of the seven dwarves,” she laughed, eyes moving to land on him. “do you see it? like, they all have their own personalities.” mr. king was her favorite, she told him. and antonio because he complimented her and gave her ego a nice boost. she didn’t even pay attention to the other occupants, eyes glued on kyle as if he’d disappear if she looked away for a second. 

while she wasn’t very fond of coffee (it made her hands shake and the crash after the caffeine wore off was far from pleasant), she happily accepted kyle’s offer. “coffee sounds great, thanks.” long fingers tapped against the metal of the bench, another restless tick making an appearance.  an older couple a few tables away from where anastasia caught her eye. they huddled together, sharing a plate of what looked like dessert—well, it looked like they were sharing but it was mostly the woman who was eating the dessert while the man looked on, body shaking slightly with the laughter that escaped him. 

kyle’s return snapped her out of the reverie she had fallen into. she watched him slid into the seat in front of her and she grabbed the plastic cup from his grasp. the drink was halfway to her lips before kyle started laughing and although she no idea what he was laughing at, a smile still stretched across her lips. it was like hearing his laugh for the first, realizing just how beautiful it was. his laughter danced in the air between them, reminiscent of a foxtrot and she couldn’t help but join in. “oh, right. beer would be nice, but this—” she held her coffee cup out to his. “will do for now. cheers!”

his question caught her slightly off-guard. when was the last time someone had asked her that? she couldn’t remember. but it was so innocent and she had to mull about the question for a moment. what was her favorite color? she didn’t have one. her eyes met his and— “blue.” yes, she decided, blue was her new favorite color. “definitely blue.” she wanted to tell him the blue she was referring to was the blue of his eyes, reminiscent of the color of the water of oceans surrounding tropical islands she dreamed of one day visiting. instead she added: “like, baby blue.”

“we’re not playing twenty questions, are we? i haven’t played that since i was in high school, years ago.” she joked, giggling at the memory of how the game would always somehow turn...not so innocent. “and your favorite color is...?” she held a finger up, eyes traveling upwards as her mind worked to come up with a guess. “green?”

[athencdora]

❛ — DOES anybody know how to handle a 4 year old because I have no idea what I am doing right now. ❜  

[anastaslas]

“you’re asking the wrong person. i can barely handle myself, a 28 year old woman.”

[lorcansalamanders-blog-deactiva]

“Oh, I don’t lose.”  Charlie laughed.  “But I’ll be happier when I win with fries in one hand and tequila in the other.”

[anastaslas]

“you don’t lose?” anastsia repeated, eyebrows raised, “well, there’s a first time for everything. are we going to talk trash all night or are we actually going to play?”

[alinakoivisto]

   “—dude, I’m pretty sure I’ve never had such a long fucking debate with anyone about anything, my buddy damn near talked my ear off. I’m tellin’ ya, if you wanna get all like, Kumbaya and bond and shit - you could either do a ropes course and y’know, hear me out: you can go the group sex route.” Jimmy held his hands out as though he’d just delivered the greatest fact ever uttered in the known universe, “You don’t have to make it fuckin’ weird, I swear it’d work.”

[anastaslas]

“i have so many questions, i don’t even know where to start.”

[kylehttp]

un(bound)

[kylehttp]

the room heavy with muted light flooding in, it was warm and he stood by the edge of the maddening crowd, shifting from ana to eliza to ana to the flower to ana. the dreamgirls still on the tele with eliza all teeth and chuckling, saying her unabashed thanks, and he thought he had never seen his neighbour so welcome and still. women are gifts of god and they brighten up the room. his head was light and weary, though, rested upon a corner of walls and the gnawing guilt of doom.  he breezed his palms on the pant legs of his jeans, stepping into the room with the laughter bleeding through already instigated inside jokes - both a curse and a blessing. the gardenias were with lesser petal, then,  lying on bedside table, obscuring ryan reynold’s face on an old magazine. he briefed the cabinets for a cup or a coffee mug with the singing of humour not dying down behind him. the last clean cup had mr. king’s pristine handwriting over it. he tried to remember if he still owed the man coffee ( 

the future was never as mysterious as it seemed, really. predicting it was merely reading through the paces and phase, careful little white lies to plaster over little holes on the haul of the boat. he should habe know, he should have known. these little jokes and little hints with little glints of the eyes from the all-knowing. dear god, how was he to swallow the brewing unstillness in his belly. someone was squeezing his arm. joseph - with his lighthearted grins and thirst for knowledge - inspired ease and the invitation to be part of the joke so that he may be less of the joke, asking him why he won’t take a sit in a room with only a small settee and a plastic chair; he could not say no. 

he sat, then, by the foot of the bed, excusing himself through the small crowd. antonio spoke through variations of english and italian, and he imagined it to be another reference to his white lie that he didn’t understand, because then everyone was laughing again; because his ear and eyes were too busy  eliza’s feet were socked and her toe dug deep unto his hip, casting question and possible answers. “alright, alright, but if i were to be given flowers, i’d like to be roses at least, or tulips.” he was coy and looking at ana, imagining bedside tables with glass vases full of water and floating lilies. 

“kyle, son,” the room would always still when russell spoke; eliza’s toe receeded, too, “you are far too high maintenance to have anyone court you, son.” 

the burst in laughter once again. the air conditioner’s fan rotated and the curtains swayed; light came through the space and hit ana’s skin; kyle’s eyes never left her. he thought he heard alfred call him a pining boy in blue, jacques saying something in hazy french that seemed like red face and idiot. he did not waver until –

“god, this is disgusting. i know this is a room but not your room.” eliza had her fingers deep into the gardenias and picking petals, richard quick to supply that whatever the outcome be, it would always be he loves her. 

 his gaze tracked spans of her skin and then her eyes, his blush blooming like summer over apple orchards and tempered glass. “i, uhh, i – i think i’ll just go and get a glass of water from the cafeteria for the flowers, and maybe coffee for everyone?” his neighbour was the only no, demanding her favored liquor instead. “ana?” please come, please come, please come.

by the window, sebastian shook his head and sighed, “god, what a cheap date.”

it’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not a date!

yet.

[anastaslas]

anastasia had very little experience with soulmates. she generally chose to stay clear of them and their artificial connection. but this, sitting in a room with kyle and eight people with a mark that linked them together, was okay. the way eliza would reach for something, only to have carl grab it before she could so she didn’t strain herself and the way richard remained by the door, almost as an afterthought with the amount of distance he kept from everyone else but still wearing a look of adoration directed at eliza. although it still wasn’t something anastasia yearned for, she understood that eliza was lucky to have found her soulmates as it meant she wasn’t alone. well, she’d still have—

kyle. he was talking, a flush of pink adorning the apples of his cheeks. “i’ll come with,” she offered, giving eliza’s hand one last parting squeeze before gliding towards kyle. sebastian’s comment didn’t go unheard and even ana couldn’t fight the laugh that fell from her lips.

and because she enjoyed to tease kyle a little too much, she lightly bumped his hip with hers once they were out of the crowded room. "i’ve never been on a date in a hospital before.”

[lorcansalamanders-blog-deactiva]

“Well with tequila and fries, it’ll be plenty more fun.”

[anastaslas]

“will you cry when you lose, as well? that’s the only thing i can think of that’ll make this any more enjoyable than it already is.”

[anastaslas]

[kylehttp]

un(bound)

[kylehttp]

he was praying for strength before he even knew that he was weak - all pink and soft and all heart. the bouquet was white and beautiful and between his small chuckles and apologies for not being their sooner, he sucked his teeth and craned his head because these flowers were going to die in muted beige and sparse light coming through thick curtains, and they will not longer be white but brown and decaying – all-feeling, all-heart; but he passed it of smiling and still so, so humble; cheeks blooming plains of shy. “oh, no, ana, you didn’t have to bring this many flowers.“ and he almost forgot that they were for eliza - his neighbour, and not for him. he spilled his gratitude again, fingers digging into the back of his neck and scratching his mark. a habit he did not even know when he picked up.

in her hands the small flowers looked bigger and more subtle, but compared to the bouquet– he reached for the bunch of small, yellow flowers, playful and teasing and at ease, pleading almost through his toothy smile, “please, please. let’s just – let’s throw those out; i mean, compared to these – “ a gardenia lost a petal from all his thrashing and his prayer came answered because he found himself just laughing it off, light-hearted.

the room overlooked the ocean but the sun never flooded in; but every morning, on of eliza’s soulmate – the eldest, russell – would draw the curtains and stand before the panes; kyle mused that he was half-praying and just simply half-there, simple and mundane. and below that small window, downtown arcata would bustle everyday through the rising heat ( yet still not warm enough for kyle’s skin ), daily traffic as music; the expanse of the pacific stretching long and wide into the horizon – kyle told ana this during their elevator ride up to eliza’s room, making small talk about weather and work and water hoses. in mid-laugh at the mention of it, the elevator doors open and there stood the seven soulmates – an array of disarray. he must have whispered something bad or near-discontent because carl - mr. king, the barber - was parting through the small crowd and pushing him in; standing right between the tiles and the elevator door; jacques - with a scowl and coffee in hand, keeping the door open with a steady finger over the button. oh, god, doom, doom, doom.

“oh my, you are a real beauty,” carl - mr. king, mr. king - greeted with his hand out and reaching for ana’s; and kyle heaved with eyes stark and large because he could already see antonio - the italian who only used german cars - stalking closer and closer with a huge grin in his face – oh, no! all the hand gestures he knew did not seem to deter the man for he kept coming and, – shit. 

charming and smooth were only antonio’s  ways as he took ana’s hand and kissed it, debonair; mr. king grunting oohs and aahs and – ‘look at this little shit trying to steal the attention again.’ kyle was mouthing ‘no, no, please, no;’ all the other men with raised brows and soft nodding in understanding stood still with jaws slack. but antonio, oh antonio.  “ah! bella! you must be kyle’s soul – “ 

his palm was hot against his cheeks, but his cheeks were hotter still; the gardenias hanging low and slipping from his other hand’s grip and he could already imagine the petals falling one by one. his lithe apology was starting to sound very much like: ‘listen, ana – ‘ and that was when antonio gaped and boarded the bandwagon.

“oh! oh! mi dispiace, bella – i meant kyle’s friend.” his syllables were long and even kyle did not buy it. “friend, of course, friend. you are not his soulmate. no, kyle? it very nice to meet you, of course, bella, very nice.” just as his hand fell away from ana’s, so did kyle’s from his face. and there in the small space in front of them was russell, stern and square, looking at kyle directly through the eyes and risking to show his disapproval through a small tsk. and when the eldest introduced himself through rasping tones and polite smiles, saying the word friend twice, kyle remembered how to breathe. he smiled, then, at ana and wondered how much weight this one lie would bring upon his shoulders tomorrow. 

russell coughed ( or perhaps merely cleared his throat ) before asking ana if she’d like to see eliza now, arm offered in a gentle crook and smile thin but true. jacques was quick to retort that it was about goddamn time because he could no longer press the button any further  and risk the nurses berating them for stalling at the elevator. they started their short stride to the room in muffled questions and cursing and kyle thought he heard ana laugh, and it made his heart swell – all-feeling. he handed the gardenias to ana two door from the room, telling her that eliza would appreciate it better if the flowers came from her, and the way her eyes lit up made his heart swell – all-giving.

it sank, then, just as the rest entered the room, when mr. king pulled his arm and glared at him, hissing behind the tallest of the group: “you are lying to the person made for you. you should be ashamed of yourself.” mr. king entered the room with a smile and left the door hanging open.

he started praying again.

[anastaslas]

for a moment, ana could only eye kyle. her lips were stretched into a wide smile as he thanked her over and over again. “it’s okay,” she assured him, waving a hand at him. “i get a good discount. plus, it’s an even exchange.” she motioned to the flowers he had handed her. sure, they were a bit pitiful and wilted but, to ana, they were just as beautiful as any other flower (simply because kyle had gifted her to them). she twisted away from him when he tried to grab the flowers from her, a hand moving to push gently and playfully against his chest. “what are you talking about? i love them. no one’s ever given me flowers before.” his laugh, just like his smile and everything else about him, was beautiful— a melody she never wanted to end. 

one would think kyle was speaking the secrets to the universe by the way anastasia listened carefully to each word that his lips formed as they rode the elevator together. she found herself enthralled in his story, so much so that she was almost startled when she was addressed by another voice— deep and croaky. she had moved closer to kyle, brushing against him gently before taking ahold of the outstretched hand. “oh, thank you,” she laughed, shooting kyle a quick glance while holding in her laughter. she let go of the man’s hand, only for another to grab onto her hand and for a pair of lips to press gently against the back of her hand. soulmate? her eyebrows pulled together, features displaying the confusion she felt at the italian man’s words. she had just begun to turn back to kyle, mouth open to form the burning question before the man corrected himself. “oh, yeah,” she breathed, almost in relief. “we’re just friends,” she finally turned to kyle, eyebrows raised as she mouthed: “what the fuck?”

accepting the man’s offer, anastasia placed her hand in the crook of the man’s hand. the men were absorbed in some argument and while ana couldn’t figure out exactly what it was they were quarreling over, it was amusing to listen to them speak over each other and resolve absolutely nothing. she glanced over her shoulder, meeting kyle’s once again and flashing him a bright smile. “the room is just right here,” said the man leading her (russell? she thought that’s what one of the other men called him), his hand patting ana’s gently. 

“you could’ve warned me there’d be an ambush of soulmates,” ana whispered before he handed the flowers back to her. her eyes had lit up, bright and twinkling before she nodded. working at the flower shop, she was never granted the opportunity to see the reactions of the recipients of the flowers she sold, instead having to face the sorry faces of cheating husbands and neglectful sons. she sent him one last parting glance before slipping inside the room, unaware that kyle had been held back. 

four new faces turned to ana once she entered— one woman and three men. “joseph, richard, alfred, eliza, this is kyle’s friend.” there was that word again, the same connotation laced to it that the italian had used in the elevator. she’d have to ask kyle about that later, she decided before stepping closer to the woman in the bed. “hi, eliza,” she began, feeling suddenly shy and self-conscious. “kyle wouldn’t accept flowers from me but he said you’d like some so i brought you these,”

somewhere from the back came a: “what a fool!” and the room interrupted in laughter. ana caught kyle’s eyes, givng him a playful wink—unaware that she had missed the joke some of the others were in on. 

[lisbon]

[kylehttp]

ft. @anastaslas & @theodre

[kylehttp]

un(bound)

[kylehttp]

scene three: he woke but he did not remembering sleeping, slipping slipping, slipping. on his arm was the embroidery of the small pillow he had rested upon on – threads, gimp, tassels – and that, too, he did not remember having. what he remembered was that  it was morning ( or so he thought for he could not hear birds tweeting); simply machines humming and the occasional curses by a gang of co-soulmates sharing chairs, biscuits, and cigarettes in bathroom stalls that had clear, stark signs that said ‘no smoking’ - but morning still; for he thought he had woke from his strained slumber and replied in hazy lines of compliance to the text messages he had accumulated the night before. ( – yes, ryan; no, cole; i miss you, too, mom; i’d love to see you here with the gardenias, i’m sure they’ll brighten up the room. ) there was a nurse, too, with dark hair and the brightest smile checking his neighbour’s iv and stats and saying words that sounded very close to better and butter and exercise and tea and —

dreamgirls was playing on the tv box high up on the wall, muted for faux privacy and intimacy; undisturbed sleep was hard to fish in a drought, after all; and there were two other people sleeping on hospital settee, faux serene. his head was heavy and it found itself resting upon the embroidered pillow once again; settled  by the foot of the hospital bed and sat on a plastic chair; his limbs folded under. his neighbour was sleeping, or so he thought she would be for that was all she ever did when she was not ceasing banter or being part of them. he was not sure, but he thought he heard himself whispering ‘what time is it’ into the open space, sleep creeping slow through the haze of supposed music and the face of beyonce. he stretched his arms further into the bed, sliding over the smooth linen and bumping into his neighbour’s feet, ready to slip, to sleep, to dream gardenias over dark hair.

“it is afternoon, where the hell is my tea, francis?!”

kyle stood fast and frantic, his knees hitting the frame of the bed, the plastic chair falling behind him. one of the soulmates in tweed was by the door frame, hands deep in his pockets, hiding his pony mark, and demanding; and kyle could only pacify him with soft s h u s h. eliza - this neighbour - precise to the queue, snored fully below him; and he could here carl – ‘it’s mr. king, if you want to keep your stupid beard, boy’ - groaning from his rest with boots scraping the floor, saying through yawns of laze, “who the hell even takes coffee at two pm, jacques?” a protest was forming on tongue, because no, it couldn’t be two in the after: he had places to be, words to write, miles to run —- he had a text message from ana that he did not remember receiving. he had to run, he had to –

“what’s the matter, kyle?” the  deepest of voices from the biggest of men had the sweetest of thoughts and the largest of hearts – uncurling from one side of the settee, colored pink in the cheeks and clad in leather and grease.

kyle missed a few letter as he typed a quick answer, arguing between yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, yes – y e s. he sent his short message with a brief sigh before announcing to the room that his soulmate was about to come over and bring flowers.

eliza awoke in queue, coughing fits unmuffle before her laughter broke. “well, you are not gonna have a soulmate for long if you look like you haven’t showered for three days with your ketchup stains and unsexy bed hair. dumbass.” she unmted the tv and hummed to the tune of the dreamgirls theme song. s h i t .

the common bathroom by the end of the hall was small and blue and sparsely lit yet there were eight of them there, then, fitted shoulder to shoulder and fussing - someone was laughing, and someone was gasping, someone was howling and whistling an old tune, and someone had their hands over kyle’s shoulder’s, pushing him down to sit on the a plastic chair they had sneaked in. he breathed through his mouth, throat running dry, phone clenched between his fingers and forgetting about where he was until fingers started to make waves over his hair. he was incoherent and stumbling through his words until he was being shushed, consoling and pacifying; the eldest of the group - russell - had his arms folded in front his chest, half-perched on the small sink, recurring his words of ‘you still look like shit, son; and we’re to fix you right up’

he ended up with his beard freshly trimmed with scissors borrowed from the nurses’ station, clean blue shirt that was not his, and perfume that smelled older than he was; standing in a square of tile by the lobby, wishing he was the plant he was next to. shit, shit, shit – the confessional priest was going to smite him for the all the bad words he had just spouted, but when he saw her - afternoon light on her hair and d i v i n e - he forgot about god and heaven for a few seconds and just smiled.

he remembered how to breathe and give her the small flowers they had picked from the parking lot, though. 

“hello.”

[anastaslas]

patience wasn’t something anastasia possessed very much of. it was something she had inherited from her mother, along with her eyes and inability to carry a tune. her mother would turn bright in the face whenever her patience wore thin, expletives in her native tongue filling the air surrounding her. and while it had scared her when she was younger, it was now something she carried with her as an adult. her dark sneakers tapped quickly against the white ceramic tile of the hospital floor. she shifted in her seat, flowers in the seat next to her as she scanned the hospital lobby once again. kyle was nowhere to be found. she was alone in the area of the lobby, except for the woman sitting a few seats away from her. her head was bowed, lips moving in a silent prayer and anastasia turned away. while she hadn’t prayed in years, there was something so intimate about praying and she felt as if she was intruding and witnessing something not meant for her.

it had now been half an hour since she had first entered the hospital. she kept telling herself five more minutes, five more minutes. five, ten, fifteen— kyle was still nowhere to be found. she wasn’t quite sure why she was still sitting there, hand now in her hair as finger worked a strand of dark hair around and around. she had never been able to sit still, much to the chagrin of her mother and teachers. her body was never still, just like her mind. thoughts seemed to tumble and bounce from each corner of her mind, bumping into each other and never seeming to make any sense. like now, as her mind managed to produce every possible explanation as to why thirty-two minutes had passed and kyle was still nowhere to be found. 

she didn’t get the chance to settle on which explanation was the most plausible because there he was, closing the distance between them with only a few short strides. she stood just as he reached her— “hi,” she practically cooed at him, reminiscent of a preteen girl greeting her crush.  she returned the smile he sent her, warm and natural as the corners of her eyes crinkled with delight. it took her a moment to realize that he was holding out flowers to her, too mesmerized the way his eyes, framed by long lashes, matched the shirt he was wearing— bright, blue and beautiful.

“—are these an apology for making me wait so long?” she joked, taking the flowers from him and handing him the bouquet she had picked out that morning. extra time had been spent on arranging the flowers just right. she then raised herself on her tiptoes, her arms moving slowly to wrap around kyle’s shoulder to pull him into her body in a quick hug.

 “it’s good to see you, kyle.” 

[lorcansalamanders-blog-deactiva]

“I can offer you tequila and fries…but I’m not so sure about the financial stability.”

[anastaslas]

“i guess tequila and fries will do for now. i’d put the order in now, i don’t think this game is going to last very long.”

[kihowon]

“I actually got it at Urban Outfitters. A very cool place for young people, like myself.”

[anastaslas]

“’a cool place for young people’? why do you say it like that? i’m young, i’m hip, i know what urban outfitters is,”