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@darkernotes-blog
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
“…Does it matter, though?” He ducked his head, staring at his fingers. “I love her, yes, but is that enough? I know, I know—it’s not my decision to make, only hers, but…” She deserved more, and he didn’t know how to give it.
"You said it yourself," John answered. "It's not your decision to make. Honestly, Donovan! She's happy with you. You make her happy. Stop thinking so hard and be happy. With her."
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
“Of course! That’s why I am with her. If she wants me, she has me, but…” Donovan shook his head. “That doesn’t mean I deserve her. Just… Just look at me, John. She’s… she’s amazing, and I can’t stop doubting things for a damned second.”
"That's the thing, Donovan. I'm looking at you and in spite of all your doubts I see a man that's irrevocably in love with Miss Hailey."
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
“Because…” His expression hardened, and Donovan regarded his friend with an expression of utter seriousness. It was his heart he was about to expose, and it scared him. “Because I think too much, and I think—day and night, all the time—that I don’t deserve her.”Â
"You don't deserve her?" John mirrored Donovan's seriousness. His words echoed disbelief "Don't you think she's the only one who can decide that?"
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
Donovan grinned, amused and annoyed at the same time. “Honestly, it shouldn’t be surprising that you can compliment and insult at the same time.” Even though his words were laced with a heavy dose of sarcasm, gratitude shone in his blue eyes. “I suppose I ought to listen to everyone saying it, and stop doubting myself so much.”Â
"I suppose you ought to, yes." John shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He smiled small. "If things are getting serious between the two of you, then why are you still doubting your worth?"
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
“They are good,” he said, and there was a gentle grin adorning the writer’s face, a smile that screamed happiness. Letting go of the fork, he leaned back. “I was lucky, am very lucky, and…” He trailed off; there was so much he could say, but now wasn’t the time to rant. “Ishvala knows why she loves me, but she does, and I’m glad.”
"Donovan!" The man sighed, annoyed. "We don't  need Ishvala to know why she loves you. You love her, and you do so selflessly. Of course you might induce one or two headaches, always second-guessing yourself and doubting everything you do, but she would be a fool to let you go."Â
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
“A mess…” Donovan echoed. He moved the fork around the plate, absentmindedly playing with his food. The rest of the salad would go untouched; his appetite was gone. “I don’t think so. Like you said, she trusts you. And that’s quiet an accomplishment, right? I think… I think you can help her escape whatever mess she’s in.” That much was obvious. “Be there, and let the pieces fall into place.”
"Let the pieces fall into place." Sounded like wishful thinking, but what else could he do? John crossed his legs and rested his hands over his knees. "I suppose I'll do that. It worked for you," he added, smirking. "How are things with Aneira?"
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
“Of course I’m usually busy! Because I work, unlike someone I know.” His words held a note of accusation, but the smile curving his lips betrayed the serious tone. “And it’s rich,” Donovan insisted, mirroring John’s smirk, ”coming from you, always busy with your music. Or Hazel.”
"Don't mention it." John's smile faltered and he sighed, his posture turning sluggish at the sound of her name. Hazel. "I don't know if I'm walking forwards or backwards when it comes to her, but at least she trusts me. A bit. In a way." He took a deep breath. "I care for her, and she cares for me, but we are a mess."
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
“Hello to you too, Mr. Dark.” Donovan shock his head with a smile. Even now, it felt awfully strange to say his friend’s last name. Besides his preference for dark suits, there was nothing particularly obscure about John. “You can sit. I’m not waiting for anyone today.”
"Really?" Disbelief was noticeable in his cheerful voice. He took a sip of his drink and stared at his sandwich. "That's strange. Don't take it personal, Mr. Redwood, but you're usually busy with work. Or Miss Hailey."
Boys Will Be Boys -- @writerofamestris
"I think I'm sitting here," John said, slipping into the chair across from Donovan's and placing his plate on the table. "Or are you waiting for someone?"
Besides his guitar, John adores cats.
Headcanon -- Reading People
John has a tendency of assuming far too much about everyone else's lives, to the point that it could be unnerving and improper if he spoke every thought that crosses his mind.Although he's rather private and keeps to himself like a lone wolf would, he likes to play Sherlock Holmes from afar.
You could say people-watching is a little hobby of his.Â
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, grinning foolishly as his hat shadowed her eyes from the glaring sun. It was sweet of him, really; a bold move she felt inclined to accept with a little smile. Around them, Central City was waking up. A passerby walked a pair of dogs and a couple’s lively declarations colored the air. John turned the corner; she followed, matching him step for step. “Charmin’, but ridiculous.”
It was more than she had meant to say, the words slipping past her lips before her brain agreed with the thought. Sometimes it’s better to follow our instincts, Hazel mused, repeating his words in her heard. A frown, however briefly, crisscrossed her brow. “Your way of thinkin’ sounds so very adventurous,” she continued, “but I like plannin’ things, John. Can we go to the park?”
"Do you, really?" he asked. For some reason, he couldn't wrap his mind around her words and believe them. There was something brash about Hazel. A hint of adventure. A hint of adventure and danger that shone crystal clear in her eyes, in her posture, in her movements, in her everything. "I'll grant you your wish, but..."
He though for a second, taking the street towards Central's prettiest park. Was Hazel afraid of her instincts? "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself through convincing me." That was the only hypothesis he could reach, considering what little he knew of her. "Truth is, you're afraid of your impulsiveness."
As he spoke one of his nastiest habits was showing. He liked reading people. Liked to discern who they were from afar. But with this woman, currently wearing his hat, everything was a little different. He wanted to fully discern her, but he wanted to be close to her while he did it.Â
After showering, her skin no longer sticky with a coat of sweat, Hazel glared at her choice of wardrobe. She was going to take a walk with John, a man that wore expensive, well-tailored suits most days. In contrast, her clothes were plain and… unremarkable. Always the same. Putting on her gloves, she refused to look at the scars that trailed her fingers, but a sigh escaped her lips.Â
“Hey,” she said, meeting him outside. “What route, sir?”
"I never plan the route," he told her, crossing the street. She followed. "I just walk around, and go where I feel like going. When something catches my attention, I turn in that direction." He took off his hat and placed it over hers, eyes sparkling amusement. "Sometimes it's better to follow our instincts."
She almost said no—scared of the friendship that was growing between them. But then she saw his eyes and found herself nodding. A natural reaction, a decision no longer in her control. “Wait for me. I won’t take long, okay?”Â
"Of course." He beamed, the smile edgy and prideful. Hazel was no longer as careful as she had been. Maybe, and he hoped that was the case, she was getting used to the idea of having him around. "I'll wait outside." Â
spiralsinmyhead replied to your post:
((Of course you don’t get it! ;) Too much for someone your age, oldy!))
--No comment, my dear. -___-
Besides, Âża quiĂ©n engañas? You're just a little girl, love. ;)Â
((Nice guitar pictures, sweetheart. :P))
--YOU found them, silly! :P I don't get tumblr... XD
Since he was child, John's emotional survival has revolved around music. Trapped between his father's indifference towards him, then his abandon; and his mother's absolute devotion and surrender to alchemy, the guitar became his best-friend, his escape, his permanent companion.
To this day, his instruments are his most precious possessions.Â
