lmtd edition

[dispatchr]

      —    · · ·    ❝ clouds  come  floating  into  my  life,  no  longer  to  carry  rain  or  usher  storm,  but  to  add  color  to  my  sunset  sky. ❞                                                                                                            

an  independent,  private,  plot-based,  original  character.   tabitha  shaye.  a  dispatch  operator  based  in  the  universe  of  fox’s  9-1-1.  a  study  in  perseverance,  optimism,  finding  true  love,  inner  strength,  and  compassion.  affiliated  with  @firebucks​.    calls  taken   by   alex,    he / him.      —   carrd.      

[dispatchr]

not making heavy promises or anything, but i’m back around a bit. either here or over at @jcrichton 

[dispatchr]

it was without thought tabitha had joined the march from dol amroth,  with hands ill-equipped to handle a long blade,  but deft at tending to injuries caused by the like.    the city's walls of white and gray had been  crowned with fire and blood,  in what felt like a time without knowing.    without ending.    screams and cries echoing beneath citrus streaked skies.  a darkness too near looming and ready to descend upon all. 

that's where she'd first had  the ranger  in her gaze,  breaking some spell of dark thought with broad shoulders and a wounded gait.    barely enough time to brace herself as he stumbled into her arms,   the horns turning to memory in the aftermath of battle,   destruction now left to those far too weary to clear it,   yet finding the strength.    it was with all her own summoned strength that she laid the ranger down in a hall for the wounded  made from remains of someone's home. 

 ❛   i  felt  your  absence.  ❜    -  @enfate​

now the hours had passed to mark the turning of a day and tabitha found her way back to the comfort of the stranger’s blue eyes,   a smile offered at the soft words he murmured.    a warmth finding the rise of her cheeks.     it felt a foolish thing,   to let a happiness into her heart here,   where so much shadow still lingered,   but it was outside of her ability to govern it.    the unexpected way she felt light in his presence. 

❝ i was not absent long,  so i hope you did not suffer too greatly. ❞  her fingertips find the back of his hand as she settles at his side,   tracing a thoughtless pattern as she looks up to him.    ❝ hopefully the supplies i gathered will help to ease any lingering pain.❞

[doofusmaximus]

Vanessa Morgan

[vanessamorgandaily]

on set truth or dare w Vanessa Morgan

[dirty]

whats your type?

Angelic

[dispatchr]

BUCK  ( firebucks )

[ sms :    tabby.   delivered 12.12am.  ] ⇢     they’re there. [ sms :    tabby.   delivered 12.12am.  ] ⇢     let me know that you’re in. [ sms :    tabby.   delivered 12.12am.  ] ⇢     and im cute always.

✉   [  prince charming  ]  :   officially  and  safely  onboard  sir   ✉   [  prince charming  ]  :   and  that’s  fair  u  r  very  cute   ✉   [  prince charming  ]  :   for  the  record  i  still  had  it  under  control   ✉   [  prince charming  ]  :   is  bobby  gonna  be  mad?

[20o1-deactivated20240129-deacti]

I hope you all fall in love with someone who never stops choosing you and I hope you feel at home when you look at them ♡

[dispatchr]

BUCK  ( firebucks )

his bones ache with the weight of loss,    the same sickness swelling in his chest whenever he thinks too hard about the last time,    how it felt when she ripped herself away from him.    there’s a shudder when @dispatchr· says the words,    when everything in him wants to fall into her arms,   rest his head on her stomach and pretend that he believes this will last,    that he believes he gets to keep any of her goodness.    but he wants,    and he wants and he wants,    and he’s almost sick with it,    body folding in on itself as he sits down,   tries to convince himself that his legs aren’t shaking.    it’s easy to imagine saying yes,    to let himself be hopelessly naive and stretch out the cautious closeness that has built between them,    fall back into loving her as if he doesn’t hold scars from the last time she threw him away.    and maybe he should have predicted something like this,    known that letting her close,   letting her touch his body like it means something,    would have ended with his heart punctured and bleeding out.

but how can he say no?    how can he deny her anything even when he can’t believe it will last?    he knows his love is too much,    knows it can never find a home where it gets to stay but there’s something like hope still in him,   and there are days when she touches him and he thinks it means something,    thinks she wants to pull him back to the small moments of home he was allowed and let him stay there.    and he wants it so badly,    he can feel it trembling through his bones and he doesn’t think when he speaks.       ”  —  i want to. i want you. i just…   “     there’s still the tiniest amount of pride that lingers in his bones,    that tells him he needs to protect himself because the next loss could kill him,     because he knows what it feels like all too intimately.       ”  i can’t do this again tabby.    i can’t lose you again.“

the  plea  is  cut  from  a  tapestry  of  regret,  guilt,  and  selfishness.    brilliant  colors  twisting  with  desire  and  need  to  create  an  illusion  that  she  hadn't  been  the  one  to  cut  down  the  love  that  had  once  bloomed  between  them.    they'd  settled  at  the  crossroad  of  friends  ,  and  she'd  been  content  in  that,    or  that's  what  she'd  told  herself.    that  keeping  him  at  arm's  length  was  good  enough,    that  she  could  exist  in  his  world  at  a  casual  distance  and  not  be  driven  toward  further  regret.    a  sound  practice  in  theory  that  did  nothing  to  stop  the  gravity  she  felt  every  time  she  was  in  his  presence.    a  hand  falling  on  his  arm,    shoulder  bumping  against  him,    fingertips  brushing  the  back  of  his  hand,    it  was  as  if  she  couldn't  help  falling  into  him.    now  with  four  words  she'd  pulled  him  down  beside  her  on  the  couch.    she  knew  in  the  back  of  her  mind  the  damage  she  risked  causing  to  both  of  them.  

she  never  should  have  invited  him  over  at  this  hour,    not  with  the  way  they'd  returned  too  easily  to  casual  intimacy.    a  fraction  away  from  their  lips  meeting  more  than  once  under  the  guise  of  friendship.    now  she  had  him  here  in  front  of  her  and  there  was  a  wildfire  burning  within  her  at  the  proximity.    ❝  you're  not  losing  me,  ❞    she's  not  proud  of  the  way  she  shifts  to  her  knees,    movement  slow,    giving  him  room  to  protest  as  she  settles  herself  on  his  thigh.    the  denim  rough  against  her  cotton  briefs  and  bare  thighs.    ❝  i'm  right  here,    i'm  not  going  anywhere.❞    she  reaches  up  and  runs  a  hand  through  his  hair,    soft  touch  lingering  as  she  stares  into  ocean  blue  eyes.    ❝  we're  just  going  to  take  care  of  each  other  like  we  used  to.  ❞    a  reassuring  smile  curves  full  lips,    and  she  wants  nothing  more  in  this  moment  than  to  kiss  him.  ❝  —  please  buck,    i  need  you.  ❞

[dispatchr]

HUSBAND  ( firebucks )

apologies write themselves against the gentle upturn of his smile,    amusement lightening the blues of his gaze even as he reaches for the water to hand across the table,    care still in every action.       “   i didn’t realise until i ate some,   and by then you’d already eaten yours.   "     innocence plays across his cheeks,    a warmth to the shades,    happiness that cannot be filtered out offered towards her.

heat  continues  a  steady  rise,    even  against  the  soothing  chill  of  the  water  and  ice.    she  wasn't  a  total  wimp  when  it  came  to  spicy  food,    but  she  wasn't  exactly  an  enthusiast  either.    a  mouth  full  of  pain  wasn't  something  she  went  looking  for  regularly.    ❝  i'm,  ❞    she  finishes  her  water  and  blinks  back  tears,  ❝  —  fine.  ❞      a  light  cough  and  she  clears  her  throat.    it's  a  good  thing  he'd  already  married  her,    this  wasn't  her  most  sexy  dinner  showing.    she  does  offer  him  a  smile  as  she  recovers  her  composure,    ❝  that  stuff  is  not  joking  around. ❞

[dispatchr]

HUSBAND  ( firebucks )

guilt swims in the hollows between his bones,    a heavy, dense feeling that he struggles with,    rising through his throat as ashes unable to be swallowed well.    they wear tiredness as mirrors of one another,    each carrying bags around their eyes and if his arms weren’t sore,    ribs were broken in his chest and bruising through,    he’d reach up and try to wipe them away from her smile,    knows the last night has carried a fear into her body.    she won’t accept his apologies.    he’s already tried to press them against her skin and make her understand,    but each time comes with her way of pushing past it.    still,    his gaze wanders over her body,   down the new swells and curves to the bump that fills him with love every time that he looks at where their baby is resting,    checking for signs that this has affected @dispatchr· further than she’s saying,    further than a care for him will allow her to say.    he doesn’t want to ask about her car,    wonders if it would have been this bad if he’d been in the jeep and not the one where the keys were closer to his hand before he left.    it’s unimportant now,    won’t change that he’s in the hospital again.

“   —  i’m good.   ”      there’s a strength to the words he’s repeated,    a conviction as if he can press it into her bones and make her believe it too,    show her that he’s staying there with her,   that he’s not going anyway.      “  it’s okay, baby.    they gave me the good pain drugs and i ate a bit ago.    i promise i have everything i need.  ”      steady,   reassuring;    he’s careful around the words as they fall,   speaking with her as if he can soothe her back to normalcy,   keep anything else from touching her for a moment.    it was just an ice - cream run,    he was always meant to come home.      “   just come sit down here with me?    by my leg,    i won’t feel it,    i just need you to come sit a moment.   ”

tension  had  made  a  home  in  tabby's  chest  and  she  fought  for  every  even  breath.    care  for  the  delicate  life  depending  on  her  in  each  inhale  she  forced  into  her  lungs.    she  paced  near  buck's  hospital  bed,    hand  rubbing  soothing  circles  over  the  rise  of  her  stomach.    she'd  spent  the  last  eight  hours  in  a  nightmare  of  her  own  creation.    it  had  been  her  craving  that  drove  him  out  the  door.    the  promise  of  satisfaction  was  just  a  few  minutes  away.    the  corner  store  was  open  well  past  midnight.    a  quick  trip  made  a  hundred  times  over.    except  this  time  he  didn't  come  back.    too  much  time  followed  after  the  jingle  of  keys  and  a  smile  pressed  kiss  against  her  cheek.    an  hour  passing  in  the  drag  of  ticking  minutes.    another  text  unanswered,    another  call  to  voicemail.    another  hour  before  she  calls  bobby.    the  late  night  gruff  in  his  voice  clearing  quickly  at  the  welling  of  panic  and  anxiety  in  her  tone.  

❝  —  baby,  ❞    her  voice  waivers  with  uncertainty  at  buck's  gentle  request.    there  was  too  much  guilt  in  her  eyes  to  level  her  gaze  on  him,    instead  she  watches  the  crawl  of  the  clouds  beyond  the  window.    every  time  she  looks  at  him  she  thinks  about  him  trapped  in  the  unrecognizable  twist  of  metal.    the  pictures  of  her  car  painting  a  horrific  scene  she'd  been  unable  to  forget  since  seeing  them.    ❝  i  shouldn't…  you're  hurt,  ❞    everywhere    she  wants  to  say,    but  knows  her  voice  will  only  break  on  the  word.    ❝  you  need  to  rest.  ❞

[dispatchr]

BUCK  ( firebucks )

she moves and he’s stuck with one thought,   a sharp punch that says:   follow her.    and then says:   follow her anywhere.     and he knows that he walks in with a heart wide open,    hands calloused from catching the pain of the world,    and he knows it is soon and it is hopeless,   but if getting carried away was a sport then perhaps he’d be the champion at it.    she holds him almost on marionette strings so he follows her,   sits on the seat right by her side as if it was made for him,   bones accommodating,    twisting out to create space for her,    to be near the warmth he feels from her.    there’s an intensity in the way he watches her,    making a list of colours from pink hair,   to the deepest brown eyes he’s ever seen,    all counted up so he can conjure her up later,    foolish and heart - hopeful,    knowing that the fire was only meant to burn him but wanting to reach out and grasp it anyway.

words are drunk up,   collected in the box he keeps for matters of interest,    ready to be called up whenever the moment takes him;   he imagines himself describing her later,    collects words like saccharine and breath - taking and celestial so he can conjure her up in a way that might see fitting,    might be big enough for the way he’s caught watching words fall from @dispatchr·‘s mouth and wondering if he could get lost in them.    her question catches on an old wound in his chest,   becomes pushed past too - quickly,    not allowing ghosts to wander up the stairs to this place and make a wreckage of his hope.       “  —  pennsylvania. maddie and i just made our own paths out of there and ended up here."       an easier version,   doesn’t trace the roads back to a gaping wound;    he wants to seem whole for her.       ”  your godfather seems like he knows good people then. why’d you pick la? it’s a good place, it’s good that you did, just … there’s a lot of places in the world. “

it's  too  easy  to  fall  into  the  comfortable  moment,    letting  their  smiles  and  gazes  dance  in  the  blossoming  warmth.    something  she  wonders  if  he  can  feel  too,    or  if  it  was  just  a  simmering  attraction  on  her  part.    considering  the  man  drinking  tea  with  her  was  a  stranger,    maybe  she  was  just  making  it  up.    that  spark  between  them  unlike  anything  she'd  felt  before.    it  feels  natural  to  lean  in  further  toward  him  when  he  speaks,    weight  shifted  to  regard  him  while  warming  her  hands  around  her  mug.    a  touch  of  surprise  colors  her  brown  eyes,    she  had  been  fairly  certain  he  was  a  california  boy,    but  apparently  just  good  at  blending  in.      ❝  —    i  wanted  somewhere  big  and  new  to  start  over,    to  get  lost  in,  ❞    she  hesitates,    the  risk  of  oversharing  a  very  real  possibility  for  her.    a  bit  more  care  and  measurement  given  to  her  thoughts  to  ensure  the  darkness  didn't  slip  through  the  cracks.  

❝  but  also  not  too  far  away  from  my  safety  net.  ❞    the  smile  she  gives  him  is  maybe  too  big,    too  real,    but  he  seems  to  effortlessly  summon  everything  light  within  her  to  the  surface.      ❝  my  godfather,    noah,    we're  sort  of  all  each  other  have.    i  guess  i  also  want  to  be  close  enough  to  make  sure  i  can  be  there  for  him  too.  ❞    the  tea  helps  soothe  her  nerves  as  she  takes  another  sip.    undeniably  enamored  and  only  falling  further  with  every  second  lost  in  blue  eyes.    she  teases  her  bottom  lip  between  her  teeth,    watching  him  intently.    ❝  so  what  do  you  think  of  the  tea?    not  being  a  tea  guy  and  all,    i  promise  i  won't  be  heartbroken  if  you  don't  like  it.  ❞    she  cuts  off  her  own  rambling  again  and  prays  the  heat  in  her  cheeks  isn't  too  obvious.

[iconicgirls]

[dispatchr]

FIANCE  ( firebucks )

tiredness becomes a creaking in bones,   a blanket refusal to move from sitting sentry,    the guard by her beside,    unyielding in the devotion that takes over his bones.     statue - like,    he gifts adoration the same way many fall to their knees before saints,    gives hands that make only one promise;    i’ll hold you.     and over,   and over,    he finds the truth in that promise,    carves it into his own bones until it becomes inseparable from cartilage and reworks the entire structure of his body until he knows only that parts of him were built to become a home for her heart.    and there he stays,    endlessly,    swallowing back the new sadness that has taken hold of his throat every moment she forgets the ring on her finger,    forgets that she had agreed to stay there with him when he’d been grasping for it as a lifeline.    that fear that has taken hold in the hollows between his ribs is pushed back beyond a rose - touched smile,   sweetness written into the blues of a gaze that finds her,   making a light despite the purple shades that sit under his eyes,    the slight shake that remains in bones and reminds him that they have not yet found the other side;     he can love the light back to her smile.    he has to try.

“  —  it’s okay."       it’s crushing him.    it’s a weight that he can’t quite explain,    mingling with a fear that one of these times she will wake up and she won’t want to say yes,    won’t want him and all the futures he has built up will disappear.    his fingers wrap gentle around hers,    offering a warmth out,   a way she can centre herself on him;    this isn’t about his fears,    his endless worry that he’ll be alone after everything,    that there’ll never be a place for him that stays.    so he swallows,   upturns his lips until they form something of a smile,   gentle,   an attempt towards a sunshine she can find warmth in.      ”  it’s okay, because i will ask you every day while you remember as long as you promise to keep saying yes.“     he has learnt her injuries inside out,    could make a map of the bruises and breaks over her body and is careful now,   brings her hand up just enough that he can kiss by the side of the ring,    hope refusing to drown itself out where it lingers in his gaze.      ”  and i’ll do it properly later too, one time where we can get all the pictures and you can have your nails done before. we’ve got all the time to get it right, baby.“

wishing  is  an  undeniable  pressure  in  tabby's  chest,    sitting  atop  her  lungs  and  threatening  to  smother  her  beneath  crushing  weight.    she  tries  to  focus,    to  think  back,    to  find  some  semblance  of  memory  in  the  shadowy  emptiness.    but  there  was  nothing  she  wanted.    there  was  her  reflection  in  the  bathroom  mirror.    the  same  as  every  morning.    a  quick  trip,    something  to  drop  off  on  campus,    and  then  back  to  the  loft  for  a  lazy  day  waiting  for  buck  to  get  home.    everything  after  that,    all  the  threads  of  her  reality  were  broken  or  frayed,    a  blur  she  couldn't  be  sure  weren't  the  yarn  spinnings  of  dream.    one  thing  that  lingered  in  her  awareness,    unable  to  be  shaken  loose,    was  the  pain  and  the  fear.    it  reached  out  every  time  she  summoned  the  courage  to  look  behind  her.    because  there  between  the  memories  she  wanted,    buck  proposing  to  her,    putting  that  ring  on  her  finger,    there  were  a  dozen  things  she'd  prefer  remain  forgotten.  

even  now,    as  she  lays  prone  in  the  stiff  hospital  bed,    her  body  hurts.    arm  aching  where  the  iv  threads  beneath  her  skin,    head  pounding  with  the  effort  to  process  everything  she  was  experiencing,    mouth  dry  from  the  medication  that  kept  her  from  breaking.    but  she  doesn't  want  to  press  the  magic  button  again,    doesn't  want  the  sweet  kiss  of  relief,    not  if  it  carries  the  risk  of  falling  back  into  the  darkness  that  keeps  devouring  her  memories.    the  reassurance  of  buck's  smile  provides  a  temporary  anchor  to  consciousness.    she'd  deal  with  the  pain  as  long  as  she  could  be  with  him.    ❝  —  every  time,    yes.❞    she  offers  as  she  tries  to  return  the  warmth  he  gifts  her,    voice  trembling  with  the  effort  to  speak  through  the  burning  throb  in  her  jaw.    her  grip  tightening  around  his  hand,    his  touch  the  only  thing  holding  her  above  drowning  in  it.    ❝  i  love  you  and  i  want  to  be  your  wife.  ❞

[dispatchr]

BUCK  ( firebucks )

his are aching bones,    forced upon by a weight he knows now,    can name for the way it has pressed upon him since the first breath.    he,   unwanted;    discarded parts meant to be used for another,    but when that other is gone then what left but the parts now ripped from his body,    an empty stare that finds him wanting.    he cannot know now if it is salvation or the knife that he knows the truth,    that it now lingers within ossein and all thoughts,    all longings,    have a reason pressed upon them?    he thinks now that his was a home burning,   ghosts trapped inside and he cannot know how to escape the maze of haunting when it has pressed itself so close to his skin.    and he is lost,    unanchored in a strange state where he knows and unknows himself,    where he is everything he built from the ashes and something new and entirely shapeless.     this darkness comes with candles,    and there in the middle is @dispatchr·,   a sugar - sweet voice and palm reached out and he wants to crumble into her waiting arms,    but he cannot be sure that she will wish to hold this hurt with him.    how can he expect her to want him when others have not?

“ — no, it’s okay. "      the moon is soft on his skin and it wraps cosmic shades around her and he thinks she is something holy,    some kind of saint meant for more than sinners like him.    he would love her like worship.        ” you can stay, if you’d like that? i — i want you to stay. “

the  unknown  and  unspoken  carve  a  chasm  between  them,    fear  like  ice  dragging  a  chill  up  tabby's  spine.    so  many  new  secrets  locked  behind  her  lips,    shredding  the  inside  of  her  mouth  like  broken  glass.    this  wasn't  them,    the  silence  and  the  doubt,    it  was  new  and  uncharted  territory.      ❝  —    of  course  i  want  to  stay  with  you,  ❞    her  voice  is  thin,    still  unsure  how  much  albert  had  disclosed  to  buck  about  what  had  happened  while  he  was  out  of  the  state,    and  the  questions  sparked  by  her  own  vague  letter.    (  not  knowing  what  she  feared  had  already  come  to  pass,    the  devil  of  her  past  confronting  the  saint  before  her  ).    and  while  they  both  had  their  own  demons  to  fight,    she  would  give  anything  to  ease  the  darkness  that  had  crept  into  his  eyes.    she  would  set  aside  e  her  fear  of  the  fatthat  might  find  her  if  she  continued  to  stay  at  the  loft  with  him.

❝  let's  go  for  a  walk,  ❞  she  steps  out  onto  noah's  front  porch  to  join  buck  in  standing  bathed  in  the  dim  yellow  of  the  street  lamp  and  the  white  glow  of  the  moon.    ❝  we  have  a  lot  to  talk  about,  ❞    she  reaches  for  his  hand,    threads  her  fingers  through  his  and  hopes  he  won't  withdraw.    what  had  driven  him  away  from  her,    the  veil  of  silence  curtained  between  them  from  his  side,    at  least  she  could  breathe  knowing  it  wasn't  him  hoping  for  her  absence.    or  he  wouldn't  have  driven  all  this  way  to  find  her,      ❝  there's  a  walking  trail  down  the  street,    it's  well  lit.  ❞

[dispatchr]

EVAN  ( @firebucks· )

there’s condensation on the café windows that wasn’t there before,     one of those rare days when the skies open and the streets coat with rain and he knows it’s an unrealistic thought,     but he almost imagines that he conjured it,     that all the aching inside of him has found a way to leave his body and affect the world.     he watches the rain because it hurts too much to look right at her,    because even though he wants to collect every image of @ceremonially he can get,     keep them in a scrapbook so he can remember her when she leaves again,    he knows the ache in him is too raw,    too real.    didn’t he want the world for her?    the truth is,    the love remained,    had worked itself so deep into his bones that he cannot see for the way it threatens to spill out of him now,    and he doesn’t want guilt for her,    doesn’t want her to know that he can still feel the knife,    that the blood still remains.     he knows if pushed,    he would hand her the last of him,     place it into her hands and let her rip him into smaller pieces,    let her do what she wants until there is nothing of him left;    he cannot imagine loving in another way.

there’s a strange feeling that comes with the words,    a horrid sense of pride that he feels when he knows it was him,    only him,    who made her feel like that,    and he recognises it with a bitterness that brings bile to his throat.    there’s a contradiction in him,    a desire to be unforgettable and cling to her life like a ghost,    and the desire to know she is happy,    that she is loved and the world is giving her everything she wants.     but he is hers,    he is hers in a way that cannot be undone,    and he has tried everything to wash her from his skin,    to erase her smile with pretty ones elsewhere and he has looked for her in every one.    how can he sit here and pretend that he isn’t pleased that she didn’t forget him,    that he isn’t happy that he didn’t vanish from her mind?    he should be a better man.    he meant to be,    but she’s here and she’s so beautiful that it hurts to breathe when he looks at her,    and he can’t bring himself to regret any of it.

❛   i don’t —  ❜       it takes a strength he doesn’t know he holds to look at her,    to force his eyes to blink away tears that threaten to form and look her straight on,     pretend her beauty doesn’t feel blinding when it isn’t his to hold.     there’s a softening to the set of his shoulders,    a way his cheeks turn upwards to spare her any unnecessary pain,     to pretend she hasn’t just twisted the knife a little deeper.         ❛  i don’t want you to be unhappy. i never wanted that, tabby.  ❜         that bit,    at least,    isn’t a lie.     somehow he thinks it’s the most honest thing that he could have said,    that it is the only thing he needs her to know.    he wants a whole world for her.        ❛  i always hoped you’d find love.  ❜

there's  a  weight  to  tabby's  bones  that  makes  them  feel  threaded  with  lead.    the  guilt  in  her  veins  warming  her  skin  and  drying  her  mouth  as  she  watches  evan  avoid  looking  toward  her.    the  words  she  leveled  between  them  were  knitted  from  shame  and  regret,    and  he  deserved  better  than  this.    than  her,    and  he  always  had.    but  when  it  came  to  him,    she  could  be  so  selfish.    it  had  been  her  idea,    to  meet  at  the  cozy  cafe,    a  former  favorite,    not  realizing  it  would  make  her  feel  like  they  were  haunting  a  memory  and  not  here  together  now.    she  knew  she  was  asking  too  much,    more  than  she  deserved,    to  see  him  again.    after  stumbling  into  each  other's  orbits  that  day  at  dispatch.  

it  had  been  a  cruel  joke  of  fate,    feeling  like  she  was  just  getting  her  life  together  again  and  seeing  him  standing  there,    same  long  legs  and  broad  shoulders.    the  sight  of  her  like  something  toxic,    the  same  depth  of  sorrow  tainting  the  blue  of  his  gaze  that  she'd  seen  the  day  she  pushed  him  away.    the  day  she'd  let  fear  decide  her  path,    the  claws  of  her  own  insecurity  so  deeply  embedded  in  her  psyche  that  she  did  everything  she  could  to  drive  a  wedge  between  them,    to  smother  the  flame  of  his  love.    to  cast  enough  doubt  on  her  own  feelings  that  he'd  have  no  choice  but  to  release  his  grip,    even  though  what  she  felt  for  him  never  truly  waivered.  

now  the  pain  in  his  eyes  as  he  forces  a  smile  feels  like  her  due  punishment,    ❝  —  thank  you,    for  saying  that.    but  i  owe  you  an  apology  evan.  ❞    there's  a  metallic  taste  bitter  in  her  mouth  as  she  bites  the  inside  of  her  cheek,    trying  to  hold  onto  the  threads  of  her  courage.    ❝  i  was  wrong  to  end  things  between  us  the  way  that  i  did.  ❞    an  attempt  to  swallow  is  made  against  the  scratchiness  of  her  arid  throat,    and  she  has  to  pick  up  the  coffee  in  front  of  her  and  take  a  sip.    ❝  it  wasn't  fair  to  you,    and  the  things  i  said…    weren't  true.    i  just,    i  want  to  say  i'm  sorry.  ❞    a  quick  inhale  to  steady  her  voice,      ❝  you're  the  best  person  i've  ever  met,    and  i  hope  maybe,    just  maybe  we  can  be  friends?  ❞

[dispatchr]

GUARDIAN  ( firebucks )

there’s a depth to the laziness as he spreads across the bed,    gaze ever lingering on her body,   swallowing up every inch of skin and writing it in his memory,     locked deep where he can keep it away from prying eyes,    keep it his own.    her first words are met with a huff of laughter that inches from slightly open lips,    still kiss - soft and silken from the activities before,    ever hungry for another taste of her.        “   you can tell me,   but i’m going to end up disagreeing with you.   "      because he cannot understand it,    cannot imagine an inch of her that he wouldn’t be completely enamoured by.    it’s unthinkable in every single sense,    unable to do anything without throwing his whole self into it.

there  was  certainty  within  tabitha  that  she  could  never  tire  of  the  comfortable  warmth  between  them.    evan  was  her  favorite  hiding  place,    behind  closed  doors,    where  his  arms  held  the  promise  of  more  than  just  her  protection.    brown  eyes  meet  blue  in  a  measuring  look,    he  was  her  every  dream,    day  or  night  her  thoughts  lingered  over  him.    ❝  —  i'd  change  my  family  tree,  ❞    her  voice  remains  calm,    on  the  edge  of  nonchalant  as  she  slips  pink  lace  up  her  legs  and  over  her  thighs  to  settle  at  her  waist.    bra  still  unaccounted  as  she  returns  to  the  bed,    reaching  to  cradle  his  cheek  in  her  hand  and  settle  a  kiss  on  his  lips.    ❝  no  more  sneaking  around,    no  more  political  charades,    just  you  and  me.    happy  somewhere  away  from  all  this.  ❞