[dailyellefanning]

[eltoromagico]

tonight we’re golden

[faye-westaway]

“It’s um…” He couldn’t stop smiling. Why couldn’t he wipe this stupid smile from his face?

“It’s an apology, of sorts.” He folded his hands in his lap, eyes admiring the handsome spread of dishes he’d prepared. It felt strange to smile and apologize at the same time, but the way Faye beamed so sweetly, it made him so happy he thought he could burst. “I felt just terrible about those things I said to you last winter, back when… well… y’know.” When he’d overstepped his bounds and taken advantage of her lovely kindness. She deserved so much better. So, he was going to be better. “I’m sorry. You were right. I shouldn’t have shut you out like that. I should have taken the time to explain myself.”

Sitting up a little taller, he paused to suck in a deep breath. He’d been practicing this moment for weeks. Still, his stomach curled up as if he had just walked on stage to give a speech. As long as his mind didn’t blank, everything would be fine. He crossed his legs in front of him and held onto his ankles as he smiled down at Faye. “If you don’t mind, I want to explain why I said those things to you. I’d like you to know why I hid from you, why I am who I am. Because I cherish your friendship. It’s like you said, friends don’t hide things from each other.” His broad shoulders shook with a casual shrug, as if brushing off the weight of the statement he just made. As a silly afterthought, he added, “And I thought snacks might make it less of a sad story. Snacks make everything better.” He lifted the plate beside him so she could reach. “Cucumber sandwich? I know they aren’t near enough to buy your forgiveness, but they’re pretty decent.”  

Faye surveyed the platters of food once more in wide-eyed wonder. She wanted to tell Jude that what had happened between them last Christmas was in the past, that she had since forgiven him, but she could tell that he had gone through a lot of trouble getting this picnic apology together for her. Instead, she chose to listen to him. It was true, she had wondered then why he had shut her out of his life, why he hadn’t wanted to let her in when it seemed so easy for the others to wrestle the truth out of him. Why had he shared his secrets with Imogen, but not with her? She had been jealous and hurt by his rejection.

“Food is always a winning combination,” she agreed, taking a sandwich from the plate he offered out to her. She picked up a napkin and set it down neatly in her lap along with the sandwich, which she left untouched for the time being. “I am very touched that you’ve decided to share this part of yourself with me… honoured even, but I hope you know that I don’t hate Jude. I never did, even after what happened last year.”

She gave him a small, hopeful smile. “But I will listen to your story.”

[eltoromagico]

tonight we’re golden

[faye-westaway]

“We’re almost there, now. Don’t peek!” Jude guided Faye slowly up the grassy knoll. He shuffled tiny steps behind Faye while he directed her onward with gentle hands on her shoulders. Every now and then, he would glance down to make sure that her hands were still covering her eyes. It would ruin the surprise if she knew what he had planned for her at the top of the hill that overlooked the forest on one side and the flat campus football fields on the other. He’d been so careful to plan the hilltop picnic in secret.

He’d laid out his large, fluffy picnicking blanket long before she got there. It was weighed down with a rich array of snack foods–sliced fruit, crisps, tea sandwiches, cheeses, a pumpkin pie, and a large thermos of Mexican-spiced hot chocolate. He’d even bought a bouquet of red chrysanthemums from the grocery to lay in the center of the blanket, where Faye would be sitting. Paired with a magnificent afternoon of sunshine beaming through bright, wispy clouds, it was about the most romantic setting he could think of for this painful apology. He owed her this much.

It was time to tell her everything he’d been hiding.

“Okay,” he muttered, his grin wide with excitement. “We’re here. You can look now.” His hands slid from her shoulders as he stepped back. He watched her closely from where he stood, shyly admiring her soft, light features. He wished he could give Faye a thousand picnics, a million sweet gifts of food and tokens of love, an unending shower of happiness, but he would never have that power. Hopefully this would be enough. “Have a seat, grab a plate, it’s all yours.” He nudged her toward the blanket before taking a seat beside the bundle of autumn-colored flowers.

The long blades of cool grass tickled Faye’s shins as Jude guided her up the slope. She had no idea where he was taking her since he instructed her to cover her eyes. It was a beautiful, crisp autumn day, and the sun had decided to grace them with its presence for once. Faye felt the warm rays of sunshine on her hands, the wind combing through her wispy, blonde hair. She could hear geese honking somewhere above them, high up in the sky. Jude’s hands moved her forward, towards whatever surprise he had in store for her.

“I promise I’m not peeking!” she assured him with a laugh. “I’ve got my eyes squeezed shut underneath my hands.” Things had changed between them since the night of the charity ball. As much of a monumental failure as that event had been, an unspoken agreement had settled between them, a promise to let the past stay in the past and move forward together towards the future. Slowly, like a newborn colt learning to use its legs, they had learned how to enjoy each other’s company again, to live in the present and just let things be.

The old Faye would have worked herself up into a frenzy over such a cryptic invitation, but the new Faye had simply accepted it for what it was - time spent in the company of someone she cared about. When Jude finally granted her permission to look, she spread her fingers and peeked through. What she saw left her breathless. An assortment of food had been laid out on a thick blanket, each plate spread out in perfect symmetry.

“Jude…” He had thought of everything, right down to the beautiful bouquet of little red flowers centered between them. Faye sat down next to him, tucking her legs to one side and smoothing down the front of her dress. Her eyes shone as she raised them to meet his. 

“What’s all this for?”

[faye-westaway]

The silky tones of bow on string, each tuned to perfection and singing in harmony with those around it, filled the air and gave weight and elegance to the night’s affairs. Ava watched as beautiful men and even more beautiful women glided past her in all their finery, a shimmering champagne glass held delicately in her perfectly-manicured fingertips. This, not university, was where she excelled. She was at home among the rehearsed pleasantries and beautiful gowns and familiar, distinguished faces. This was a beautiful-looking - yet under the surface a very precise and disciplined – dance; one that she knew very well indeed. It was almost comforting to find herself going through the motions after a year in Durham.

There were some here tonight, however, who didn’t feel quite so at home in such a setting. Right now, Ava was watching Faye. The poor thing had had an absolutely hideous time since the beginning of the year, and Ava had been hoping that Faye would enjoy a nice night of pretty gowns and frivolity – a distraction from the seriousness of the past few months. However, the girl looked nervous – uncomfortable even – stood among the revelers in her stunning floral gown.

Ava would just have to bring her in on the fun.

Picking up another flute of champagne from a passing server, she made her way across the floor to the girl in blue.

“Faye darling, you look like an absolute dream!” she gushed as she approached her with a warm smile. “Honestly, just heavenly.” She offered out the fresh glass and glanced around, trying to determine if there was anyone nearby who could have been Faye’s date for the evening. It was probably Jude, to be fair. “So what lucky boy did you come with this evening, then?”

Amongst London’s rich and finest, Faye found herself very much alone. She stood with her hands folded neatly together in front of her, her back straight and rigid. She wished she hadn’t let Rory go when they had arrived to the ball together. She felt more comfortable with them around. They could strike up any given conversation at the drop of a hat. Faye had never been much of a conversation starter, and she was even less inclined to mingle after the incident. Ulfric’s power over her had left deep, ugly scars that were only beginning to scab over.

As it were, she had only agreed to come because Ruth had asked her to. She felt sorry for her friend. Things had happened between them, most of which she remembered very little. Sometimes, the memories of her possession slipped into her dreams and made themselves visible to her. She never knew what was real and what was just an exaggeration of her mind, but the experience in itself was enough to make her break out into a cold sweat and awaken with a startle each and every time. Her heart would beat viciously inside her chest, as if she were still being chased by the haunting visions of her dreams. Thud thud. She could see a shadow moving in her peripheral vision. Thud thud. She could hear the scratchy noise of claws on the wooden floor. Thud thud. Those shiny yellow eyes were staring back at her in the dark.

Ava’s voice brought her back to the present. Faye blinked and forced a smile on as she accepted the champagne flute. Her hand shook a little as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of the bubbly mixture. “Thank you, Ava. You look radiant tonight,” she replied politely. “Oh, um, I actually don’t have a date. Did I need one? I’m not sure how charity balls work, I’ve never been to an event this grand before.” She looked around, hoping she didn’t seem out of place amongst the couples moving to and from the dance floor. “Did you bring a date?”

[eltoromagico]

and/or

[faye-westaway]

Faye’s insistence that she chaperone him back to Mr. Song’s house was so cute that Jude bubbled into fits of laughter. “That’s sweet, but really, I’ll be ‘right. This neighborhood is like… like the library of London. Ain’t nothin’ scary happenin’ here. Not compared to me hometown anyhow. I mean, I got mugged walkin’ home from primary school in me hometown. The worst thing that might happen here is I get yelled at. I can handle gettin’ yelled at. Stay here. You’re havin’ a good night, yeah? I don’ wanna steal you away.” Steal her away was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and carry her away somewhere they wouldn’t be found, so the two of them could talk privately and watch the sun rise. Even through the haze of smoke prickling inside his skull, he knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. He didn’t deserve her smile. That didn’t make letting her go any easier.

Instead, he felt a warm wash of relief as she continued to offer her help. Even now, when she was dressed like a goddess and she captured the eye of every boy in the room, she didn’t seem to notice or care. All she wanted was to help. Jude’s smile widened, turning slightly devious, when she questioned how he’d found the time to smoke a spliff amidst the bustle of all these people. “My date’s been missin’ for hours. I got all the time in the world. Besides, what else is there to do around here other than drink, eat, and talk to judgmental strangers?” Jude turned as if to lead Faye away to the hidden little balcony he had discovered before the realization struck him that just because she was asking didn’t mean she necessarily wanted to light up with him. “There’s… this perfect balcony overlooking the garden.” He turned back around to face Faye. “Cleo an’ I had a puff—or three—it was brilliant. Poor girl’s had a tough year. It was soooo brilliant to see her let go an’ smile for a bit. She deserves the world, yeah? Maybe she has me tie. I think I took it off while we were talking…” He leaned from toe to toe peeking over the heads of the other party-goers in search of little wispy Cleo.

All things considered, Faye probably didn’t need protecting. She was strong enough to outlast the wolf, after all. However, boys and wolves were two completely different kinds of beast, and—like Cleo—Faye had been through a very harrowing year. She deserved better. “Faye, darlin’, look around.” Jude leaned over to mutter in a conspiratorial hushed tone while he gestured at the grandeur around them. “All these people, they’re tainted. Even our friends. They’re neck deep in money an’ politics an’ power. As lovely as they are, they’re stuck in it. It’s like bloody Game of Thrones. All of them were born for this world where every smile, every handshake, every name dropped is a political move in a grander scheme.”

Nudging her back to face him, he set his hands gently on her small, bony shoulders. “But you’re outside of the game. You’re beautiful an’ new an’ exotic to them, an’ you don’t come with a book of rules to follow. You’re everything they don’t have—freedom, honesty, a certain unpredictability… If you don’t believe every boy in this room would fight to take some of those from you and keep it for themselves, then… Well, then I’m glad to hear that you still have some naive innocence.” He shrugged with a wide grin.

His fingers brushed over the bare skin of her shoulders as he dropped his hands to his sides. “True, boys ain’t the most menacing of monsters, but I’d rather not give them the chance to hurt you. I promised a long time ago that I’d keep you safe an’ I’ve done a pretty shit job so far, so I’m hoping third time it sticks, yeah?”

Faye arched her eyebrows incredulously at Jude’s comment. If a child had been mugged in her hometown, the story would have been splashed all across the front page of their local newspaper. The candid way in which Jude explained himself seemed to suggest that what had happened to him was a fairly common occurrence in his neighbourhood. Still, it didn’t make it any less sad or tragic. “You’ve never told me much about where you grew up,” she remarked quietly. “It doesn’t sound like it was an easy area to live in.” She couldn’t imagine growing up in a place where one had to constantly look over their shoulder every time they went somewhere. Her own childhood was filled with memories of adventures in neighbouring fields and forests.  She had always had the freedom to roam wherever she wanted to.

“Cleo smoked up too?” She found the news surprising, though it also made her sad. So much time had passed without her knowing. Ulfric had stolen nearly six months of her life, time that she would never get back, that she could have used to enjoy what she had left to love. She still didn’t know if she believed that they would all die in two years’ time as the authors had predicted, but the thought still unsettled her all the same. Cleo had been through so much since Christmas. The guilt pulled at her heartstrings. She hadn’t been there for her best friend.

She watched the rich and the beautiful weave together in an intricate dance of power and politics. They lived in another world, one that was out of reach for people like her and Jude. But she didn’t envy them. The ornate decorations and glittering lights, the caviar and champagne bottles, the smiles and handshakes, they were all smoke and mirrors. She had read somewhere once that some of the richest and most famous people on the planet were amongst the loneliest individuals in the world. “If that’s true, Jude, then they must lead a very sad existence,” she said, watching a mother fussing with the ribbon on her daughter’s dress.

A shiver ran down her spine as Jude’s fingers lingered a little longer on her skin. Her face grew warm with embarrassment at her body’s reaction. “Will you walk me home?” she asked suddenly. Her blue eyes twinkled beneath the dimmed spot lights. “I’m tired and I could use some fresh air. My brother’s place isn’t very far.” She brought her hands together in front of her. “It’s ok if you don’t want to. I can take a taxi.”

[imogenxsong]

my habit of choice

[faye-westaway]

“ruth does have an eye for aesthetic,” imogen answers, staring off into nothingness, her eyes gleaming in amusement at some joke faye wasn’t even aware she’d told, memories of high school dances and the preceding dressing room mischief imogen and ruth had found themselves in only a few years prior crossing her mind like polaroids swiped across a table to make room for something else. “ahh, you’re too kind~”

“a farm wedding? oh, i’ve never been to a farm wedding. not a proper one, anyway. my father’s secretary’s daughter married in a remodeled barn, but it was so very re-furnished it was hardly recognizable as a barn from the inside. i’ve always wanted to go to a real farm wedding, the photos are just darling.” imogen rests an elbow on the bar, chin in hand as she muses. faye might be uncomfortable at talking so much, but imogen could easily make up for both of them.

“no, not every event is this… formal,” she answers. “don’t get me wrong, there are a few of these a year, but far more brunches, socials… sporting events, believe it or not. auctions. auctions are interesting. you want to dress like you wouldn’t hesitate to slit a rival’s throat, but not in a vulgar way. like you’d do it politely. somewhere between hillary clinton and anna wintour. just know that i have never been without a pantsuit since i was eleven, and i know the staff at the dry cleaners’ by name.” the bartender, a dark-featured, ponytailed boy who couldn’t be much older than imogen and faye, hovers nearby with his widest, customer-serviceiest smile in place; imogen waves him away.

“i’m alright,” she answers. “i keep running into people i know and they all ask the same questions, good god. it’ll be better when i’ve finished my rounds and they can all go back to ignoring me. god, des and i used to get up to all sorts of trouble at these things. once you make sure everyone’s had their chance to say hello, it’s like you disappear. if we didn’t have to hang around for the speeches, i’d probably- oh, i don’t know…” she taps her fingers along her jaw, running through potential adventures, most of which involve breaking into rooms she shouldn’t be in, re-appropriating some alcohol, and possibly fleeing into the night. jude’s offer to skip the whole thing and crash a wedding still rings in the back of her mind, and for a moment she wonders if he’d still be up for bailing, but her clutch buzzes loudly and pulls her back to reality.

“probably… i’ve heard this building has an indoor greenhouse somewhere, i’d probably be pirating cuttings to be honest,” she answers, half-distracted while she checks and quickly answers the text that had interrupted her. finished, she shoves her phone back into her purse and turns her full attention back to faye. “you… are you okay?” she blurts out, taking note of faye’s near death-grip on her drink. “your glass isn’t trying to escape, is it?”

“It was beautiful,” Faye agreed, recalling the twinkling fairy lights her cousins and Leo had hung up inside the barn and the wooden benches her father and uncle had carved themselves for the guests to sit on during the ceremony. She had been only a little girl then and had played in the fields with her cousin’s dog while the rest of the family had helped Eleanor get ready. Spot had been a good dog. Were he still alive today, she wondered what he’d say to her now that she had the ability to communicate with animals.

Brunches, socials, auctions… Imogen’s posh upbringing sounded like a movie rather than real life. Faye had never considered the possibility that people under the age of seventy-five attended auctions. Her granny had gone to an auction once to purchase an antique vanity table. A well-worn piece of furniture with a wealth of history embedded into it, her grandmother had cherished that table until the day she died. The vanity table now sat in her parents’ bedroom back in the Lake District. “I never realized that auctions were so fierce,” she said, casting a side glance at her friend, the very reincarnation of power and fire. She had no doubt that the sight of Imogen in a pantsuit was a beautiful and frightening image.

“They’ve got an indoor greenhouse?” Faye glanced around the ballroom. Ruth and Marco’s home was as grand as a castle and bursting with people who probably had homes just as large and expensive as this one. So much wealth under one roof… she shook her head, wondering if they could even understand the value of money beyond the means of their exclusive little world. At least the money being raised tonight was going to a good cause. “I wonder if they’re happy…” She voiced the thought aloud without realizing so.

Sheepishly, she loosened her grip on her champagne flute when Imogen pointed out her stiff posture. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m not really a fan of crowds since…” She sighed and took a sip of her bubbly drink without finishing her sentence. “I thought a drink might help me relax. I didn’t want to seem out of place, but I suppose I don’t really belong here anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” Marco, Ruth, Imogen, Ava, Dane and Des were a part of that world, Jude had Imogen and Cleo had Marco, Wren and Rory had each other and Luca seemed content all on his own… where did that leave her?

[ellefanningcompilation]

[eleventh-elle-fanning]

[ellefanningcompilation]

[eltoromagico]

and/or

[faye-westaway]

“Oh, no, don’t bother.” Jude carefully tried to pry his hand out of hers, as if he feared she might snap if he pulled away too quickly. “Imogen’s gone. She grabbed Ruth and made for the exit back when Eduardo um…” Was it wrong to say he burned his daughter at the stake? These social things had so many rules. “When he made his speech. I’m sure they took the car. I haven’t seen either of them since then and they ain’t pickin’ up their phones either.” He looked down, fidgeting with the buttons of his tight collar. He couldn’t stand the way Faye looked at him, pity and regret. Just another one of Jude’s ugly messes. He fixated on his shiny black shoes, the ones he’d had to buff for over an hour to get the old scuffs off of them.

“It’s alright. I’ll walk home. Mr. Song’s house isn’t far. All these rich folk live on the same street actually, it’s just really long. The longest street in London. It goes an’ goes an’ goes. That’s how you fit all the nice gardens. An’ if I don’t make it, I’ll find a fancy bit of grass an’ lay down ‘til mornin’. At least I’m dressed good enough I shouldn’t get arrested right away bein’ mistaken for a homeless. That is…” His gaze lifted from his shoes to peer around him at the ballroom. “If I could find where my tie went… That was an expensive stupid piece of cloth.”

Jude’s eyes paused on the handsome, well-dressed blonde boy Faye had been talking with. His attempt at a good-humored smile fell flat. His chest ached too much to feel the humor in his words. “I’ll go. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t a barged in like that. He seems nice, an’ I’m just makin’ a fool of meself. I wish…” He swallowed down the lump of emotions that writhed in his throat uncomfortably. Slowly, he turned to look Faye in the eye, with no shortage of shame burning on his cheeks. “I wish I could protect you, but I can’t, can I? There’s always gonna be charming boys an’ danger an’ liars in the world… Mierda, I’m way too high to fight off every pretty boy here for your honor. Why are rich people so darn attractive? I need a snack an’ a lie down.” He stopped listening to himself long ago as his thoughts continued to spill freely from one to the next out of his mouth.

“Oh, they’re gone?” She had noticed Imogen dragging Ruth through a side door during Mr. Marino’s speech, but she hadn’t realized that the two of them had left the premises. That put Jude in an awkward situation. She loosened her grip on Jude’s hand when she felt him trying to pry his fingers away. “Oh no, I can’t let you walk home on your own. Let me walk with you, at least.” She didn’t know London very well, but the thought of letting Jude leave in the state he was in without anyone there to chaperone him made her feel uneasy. Big cities always had trouble lurking around every street corner.

“It was a lovely tie,” she agreed, glancing down at the floor as if she might catch sight of the beautiful piece of fabric there amongst the polished black dress shoes and sequinned high heels. “Do you remember when you last had it on? We could try retracing your footsteps…” The We came out unintentionally and she felt her cheeks colour with warmth. How easy it was to fall back into old habits. Her eyes widened at Jude’s revelation. Of course, his strange behaviour had nothing to do with alcohol. “When did you manage the time to get high?”

She sighed softly at his explanation. “Oh, Jude, I don’t need protecting from boys,” she said quietly. She suddenly felt very old and tried. They had all been treating lately as if she were made of glass. She understood the reasons behind their concern. Ulfric had come very close to destroying her, but that still didn’t make it any easier to stomach… Cleo who made sure she ate every meal, Rory who had gone out of his way to help her get ready for the ball, Jude who magically showed up to walk her to and from the clinic... she was touched by their care and attention, but she didn’t feel as though she deserved any of it. Ulfric had been her fault.

“Do you want to raid the buffet table before we leave?” she asked. “I think my clutch can fit in a few hors d’oeuvres if we can squish them in a napkin…”

[eltoromagico]

and/or

[faye-westaway]

Undeterred, Jude patiently waited for the lovely boy to take his hand. The longer he stood there, the more uncomfortable the strange tension in the air became. Good, he thought. Maybe he’ll get the hint and kindly jog on. When the boy’s soft, pale hand finally grasped his, Jude gave it a hard squeeze. Jude’s hand easily swallowed up the stranger’s slender, graceful hand in a muscular grip. His smile remained, cold and steely, even as the pretty blonde boy turned away from him.

“Pardon me,” Jude interrupted before Faye could answer for him. “I’m right here. You’re shaking my hand. You could ask me.” He finally released the boy, tucking his hands away into his pockets. His mind was working in rapid rhythms, calculating each moment ahead of time almost as fast as his heart pounded in his chest. “O’ course she knows me. I’m her brother.” He announced with a proud smile, a calculated risk that could quickly resolve his imposing stranger problem. Dios mio, Faye was going to kill him for this. It didn’t matter. If it got boys to stop hovering around her with hungry wolfish eyes, it was worth it. Leo probably wouldn’t mind Jude playing him for the night. He was protecting Faye after all. That’s what brothers do, protect their little sisters. He could only assume that the brother he’d never met would appreciate it.

“Are you having a jolly good night, Dash? Dash. That’s a weird name. Are you fast, Dash? You play any sports? I play football meself.” Of course he played sports, all these twats played likefifteen sports. They could afford it. If the boy named Dash didn’t play sports it’d be like… like…Mierda, it’s so hard to be clever on the spot. Jude’s eyes wandered to the floor as he tried to think of another pun name. He noticed the soft fluffy skirt of Faye’s dress brushing at the ankles of his trousers. Faye… Now there was a fitting name. She was like nothing he’d ever seen. Her beauty and kindness, could only be fitting for a fantasy being, a faerie of the deep woods, dressed in flowers and smelling of the morning mist that hung in the treetops. She was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen, every motion of her thin fingers, her hips, her shoulders, all filling him with a deep wonder and a painful, guilty longing.

Had someone said something? Jude blinked his stinging eyes, and looked up from where he’d lost himself in Faye’s enchantingly draped shape. “Sorry, what?” He looked from Faye, to the stranger, and back. “Your dress is so beautiful, Faye.” He added without thinking. “You look like… like a dream. A good dream. One without wolves.” Great. Fantastic choice of words. Just shut your mouth, Jude, before you ruin the whole night.

Why was it always so much harder to get his mouth to do what he wanted when Faye was around? Those sky blue eyes had a way of scrambling his logic until he couldn’t form a proper thought any longer.

“Her brother...” Dash repeated slowly, the words rolling off his tongue with mounting disbelief. Faye was glad that he had his back turned to her so that he couldn’t see that she was just as surprised as he was to learn that Jude was her brother this evening. “You don’t really look or sound alike… are you adopted or something?” Faye opened her mouth to interject, just as Jude started babbling on about Dash’s name, mocking him for it. The look of confusion on her face melted into one of sheer horror.

“Actually, it’s short for Dashiell,” he said politely, though Faye noticed that his smile was gone and the twinkle in his eyes had faded. “I used to play lacrosse, but I don’t really have much time for sports anymore.” She didn’t understand what had possessed Jude to act this way. Was he drunk? No, his powers made him immune to the effects of alcohol. She noticed Jude’s eyes on her dress, following the shimmery fabric, lost in thought. His stare was not one of brotherly love. The words that followed confirmed it.

“Oh, um, thank you, Jude,” she said. She felt Dash’s hand on the small of her back.

“Is he really your brother?” Dash leaned in and whispered to her.

Faye shook her head. “I’m so sorry. He’s my friend, he normally doesn’t act like this. I think he’s drunk. I should go and find his date so that she can take him home.”

“Oh ok…” He sounded disappointed, and she felt sorry for him. As stuck up as most of the patrons were, Dash had been a welcomed surprise tonight. He was funny and intelligent, and didn’t seem the least bit put off that she was a Northerner. She wasn’t certain if he really did care to see her after tonight, but she supposed there was no harm in trying.

“I’ll text you?”

Dash nodded. She grabbed Jude’s hand and led him away from the pretty Cambridge boy. “Come on, Jude. Let’s find Imogen so that she can take you home.”

[reversed-paradise]

[eltoromagico]

and/or

Even though his eyes stung angrily from the smoke and the exhaustion settling in, he couldn’t shut them, not for a minute. Not when the mesmerizing image of Faye drifted in and out of his line of sight. There she was, purity and softness and a quiet strength radiating from her small delicate shape. Her smile set his heart thundering madly like a machine gun.

It wasn’t fair at all.

He didn’t ask to fall in love. He never wanted this feeling bunching up in his throat. Over and over again, he had insisted, he wasn’t in love with Faye, he couldn’t love her now, not after the hell he put her through. He remained close, cautious and nurturing, but maintained a safe distance as well. No, of course he didn’t love her, that would be irresponsible. He merely worshiped her every little breath, the way her long fingers moved through the air, the clear tone of her gentle voice. His body itched to hold her. A heat like Imogen’s magic fire writhed under his skin. Jude adjusted his suit jacket and chewed nervously at his bottom lip.

Don’t make a fool of yourself, be cool. Dane’s warnings still rang in his ears, almost as loud as the chiming of laughter and glass tapping against glass. The slow rush of cool air into his sore lungs was like stepping into a cold shower, refreshing, if a touch alarming. He stood to his full height, adjusted his collar (Wasn’t he supposed to have a tie? Where in the world had his tie run off to? A la mierda.), and hoped he didn’t stink too much of his secret spliff he and Cleo shared out on the balcony. At least that part of the night had gone swimmingly. Swimming, like a Pisces? Jude snorted to himself at his own god-awful pun in his head.

He was still snickering giddily as he leaned over a waiter and lifted three glasses of champagne from his tray. That’s right, three. The first two were held firmly tucked against his palms with his thick thumbs while the third dangled precariously between the fingers of both his hands. But there was no time to be impressed with his pro drink-carrying skills. Carefully, he lifted the drinks up above the heads of the other guests as he tiptoed around clumps of chattering people with obnoxiously long skirts or ridiculously square jutting shoulders all the way to where Faye stood, ambushed by a gorgeous young man with a perfectly clean-shaven face and a shitty little intrigued smirk.

Be cool, Jude reminded himself.

“Hullo, someone please take this afore I drop it.”

Okay, could have been cooler.

He offered out the drinks, but when he was met with only baffled and incredulous stares, Jude sighed. “Faye, please…?” He held the carefully balanced third drink in her direction. As soon as she took it, he gave her a wide, relieved grin. “Thank you, love.” Offering out one of his two glasses to the handsome stranger, Jude added, “An’ this one’s for you. Cheers, mate.” When the blonde young man tentatively took the glass from Jude’s hand, Jude immediately moved to tap their twinkling glasses together. He downed the entire flute of champagne in one gulp before he set the glass down on the bar beside them. Magic exploded in his stomach, icy tingles climbing up his chest into his throat from every drop of poison. He shuddered. “Oh wow.” Now that he had a free hand, he extended it with gusto. “Hullo, I’m Jude. Who are you?”

@faye-westaway

[faye-westaway]

Of all the boys that had approached Faye that evening, Dashiel Whittaker was the only one whose company she actually found herself enjoying. Dash was one of the most beautiful men she had ever met. His chiseled jawline, high cheekbones and perfectly tousled blond hair belonged on a magazine cover or a twenty-foot billboard overlooking the freeway. He was the sort of pretty that deserved to be featured in a black and white Calvin Klein ad. The thought of picturing him in his underpants caused Faye to blush a deep red. She was grateful for the hall’s dim lighting which proved to be forgiving of her indiscretion.

“When are you heading back to Durham?” Dash asked her, his bright blue eyes giving her their undivided attention.

“Tomorrow.” She was surprised by the calmness in her voice.

“That’s a shame. You should come visit Cambridge some time. I’m sure you’d love it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t really know my way around campus.”

“Don’t worry, you’d have me as your personal tour guide.” He flashed her a smile that made her go weak in the knees. Her hair felt hot around her neck and shoulders. She was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing to one another, how easy it would be for her to lean in and kiss him on his beautifully-shaped lips.

“Haha, I thought law students didn’t have time to humour visitors.”

“A law student will always make time for a cute Northern girl,” Dash replied, and Faye was worried for a second that he might hear how frantically her heart was beating inside her chest. Jude’s interruption surprised them both.

She stared at her friend incredulously before silently accepting the champagne flute he offered out to her. Dash took the second glass, the look of confusion evident on his lovely face. They both stared at Jude as he necked back his drink in one go. Dash stared at the hand Jude offered out to him for a brief moment as if it had grown a head before finally conceding and returning the handshake.

“Dash,” he said, looking back to direct his next question at Faye. “Um, do you know him?”

[rorycaston-blog]

light a fire inside those eyes

@faye-westaway

Makeup couldn’t heal Faye, not after everything she went through, but Rory hoped it would at least help her feel a little more confident at the ball. They hadn’t spent much time with her, since that night they banished Ulfric, but they were pretty sure Faye was keeping to herself. Rory wanted to be there for her, but they weren’t sure if they were the best person to talk about feelings with. But they could make her look beautiful. And sometimes looking good on the outside, helped aid the inside a little. 

Before leaving their hotel, they did their own makeup, figuring they wouldn’t have time after doing Faye’s. While their suit was somewhat tame, they went full glam with the makeup–up to the false lashes and blinding highlight. With their suit tucked safely way in a garment bag, they took a cab to Faye’s brother’s flat. 

When Leo answered the door, the first thing Rory noticed was how attractive he was, and for a moment they could only blink at him in surprise as they tried to remember how to speak. “Uh–hi,” They forced a sheepish grin. “I’m Rory. Faye’s friend. Or her makeup artist for the night.” 

[faye-westaway]

Faye opened up the sleek garment bag hanging off the back of her brother’s guest bedroom door for the fourth time that hour. She had told Ruth that the dress was too much, that as much as it was beautiful, she didn’t deserve to wear such a delicate piece of fabric. But Ruth had insisted, even offering to pay for the dress herself. In the end, Faye had handed the cashier the credit card that she was meant to use for emergencies and watched what little savings she had in her bank account vanish with one swipe of her Visa.

It was a lovely gown, but Faye didn’t feel very lovely in it. In fact, she didn’t feel much of anything these days. She was too busy to feel, she reasoned to herself on nights where sleep evaded her and troubling thoughts sought her company. She had re-sits to revise for. She hadn’t been herself during exams. Her results were horrendous. She needed to catch up, she needed to get back to where she had been before… before it had happened. Faye sighed and fingered the intricate, flowery pattern of the dress with her thumb and index finger. The material was so soft.

Her brother knocked on the door and poked his head in. “Do you want to eat here before your big fancy party?” he asked. “You know rich people eat insects right? Snails, caviar, frog legs… frog legs, Faye.”

“A frog isn’t an insect,” she pointed out. “And neither are caviar or snails for that matter.”

“But they’ve all got eyes, and you don’t eat things with eyes, Faye. That’s just gross.”

“I’m sure they’ll have greens, Leo.”

The sound of someone knocking on the front door interrupted their conversation. Leo’s head disappeared from the doorway. Faye opened her bedroom door a crack to listen to her brother’s conversation.

“Oh thank god, you’ve come to save the day,” she heard Leo say. “Faye! Your friend’s here to put on your nice face!”

Faye rolled her eyes and elbowed her brother out of the way to greet Rory. “Hey, come in. Ignore him.” She nodded her head in Leo’s direction. “My father dropped him on his head when he was a baby.”

[imogenxsong]

my habit of choice

“you look like you could use a drink,” imogen states in lieu of the standard pleasantries. faye’s been free of her captor for a while now, things should be back to normal, but things rarely work out the way they should. faye’s expression, posture- sure, she’s always been a little uptight, but there’s a certain tension there that wasn’t before. it’s unsettling.

“you look amazing, by the way,” she adds, slotting herself next to faye at the bar, casually waving for the bartender’s attention. “that’s a lot of shoulder for you, isn’t it?” imogen gently nudges at faye’s arm. “how’s your night so far, gorgeous?”

@faye-westaway

[faye-westaway]

The music, people and sparkling lights of the grand ballroom spun around Faye like a merry-go-round. She tried to keep calm, remain focused on the young man who was standing right in front of her and talking to her, but she couldn’t shake the sense of dizziness that had been plaguing her ever since she had set foot inside the Marino-Harts’ estate. Fear’s claws kept an ironclad grip on her heart and lungs. It felt like her throat was closing up, like her mind was going to explode. Run was the only word that seemed to come to mind. She politely excused herself from the conversation and made her way to the bar. Maybe she just needed a drink to help settle her nerves.

Everything was making her jumpy these days. The loud rumble of a lorry driving past her bedroom window, the sound notification on Cleo’s phone, the slam of a door in the hallway… she had tried her best to return to ‘normal,’ but did she even have the faintest clue what ‘normal’ was anymore? The female presence suddenly at her side startled her. Imogen, looking sinfully beautiful in a dress as black as night and that glittered like the stars when she moved, was here to keep her entertained. Faye loosed the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding in up until now.

“Thank you,” she breathed, unclenching her fists and wiggling her fingers to get some feeling back into them. “It was Ruth’s idea… I don’t think I would have been able to pick up something as lovely as this if I hadn’t gotten her help. You look beautiful as always, Imogen.” She gave a friend, a small yet timid smile. “My night’s been… well, to be honest, it’s been a lot to take in. Have you always gone to events like this? The grandest party I ever went to was my cousin’s wedding and it happened on my uncle’s farm when I was eight. I was a flower girl.” She felt her cheeks grow warm when she realized just how much she was talking. “What about you? Are you having fun?”

[astrologicalaestheticss-deactiv]

The Signs As Colours: Virgo 

 “White is purity, it is undivided light - light not broken down into colours.”

[faye-westaway]

Faye Westaway’s Charity Ball Outfit