be honest with me

honest - /ˈɒnɪst/ adj. free of deceit; truthful and sincere.

[yookatme-blog]

[pinkmonsterr]

[gryoona-blog]

` astray, a&a

` slyantonios​

Shoulders collide and Annelise finds herself hunched over, gathering all the fallen books in her arms. The empty corridor wasn’t as ‘empty’ as she had assumed, especially with the overwhelming presence of him – the one and only. They hadn’t ended on good terms, and so to say, they haven’t spoken since she’d last return from home from the Addilyn estate. And the only regret she has was having ever met him. Her fingers curl at the sight of him; she wanted to run away, she didn’t want to face him because she knew what was coming. She knew she would get it and obviously it wasn’t the good kind. She wrapped her arms around her books securely, as to remedy what was anticipated.

“Uhm, sorry.” “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Lips tug awkwardly, signifying her departure but before heels could turn, her head elevates to look at him. Her eyes shape apologetically, as if attempting to redeem herself. She was wrong to have ever left without a word but she was merely a puppet on stage. An emotion that had her held by its strings, porcelain dolls with ragged hands pull up to bring a stray strand of hair back behind her ear and her orbs drop. The words clutter, in an augmenting storm inside of her, it’s brewing consistently and she finds herself almost, as tempting as it would be, to vigorously shout what was hanging off her mind. But she couldn’t. She knew that the Slytherin would just label it as another one of her excuses. She had always assumed that he never cared, never cared about anything that involved the two - especially when it came to her. She had always assumed that whatever she chose to do, he wouldn’t care. With set precedents prior to him, her assumptions were the same, and time and time again she would ask herself why, but the only answer she could ever pry out of herself was a lift of her shoulder. She didn’t know why. Heavy limbs ease as his shadow casts over her own, sentimentally, she felt herself sinking, drowning into her own guilt and her fists loosen. And her lips lose track of time, gaping for dear life.

“I’ll be more careful next time.” “Have a nice day.. Antonios.”

She couldn’t do it. Annelise just couldn’t do it.

[soshing]

[gryoona-blog]

` dolls, e&a

[jaebim-deactivated20170202]

From a short distance, Elsa spotted a familiar tall, slender figure approaching. She beamed, the way she does when she happens to encounter a friend by chance. But as the other came closer in her field of view, she was swept by an air of frenzy, an unusual feel for the Gryffindor to give off, and it occurred to her that the girl didn’t even seem to notice her prior to an incidental collision.

“Anne?” 

She could sense apprehension in the other girl, an uneasiness which quickly faded her excitement into concern. It was clear that there was something wrong with Annelise and she had been hiding it, whatever it was, though the Ravenclaw figured that it was most likely best not to push it, watching her friend vanish as quickly as she had appeared without another word. 

Paranoia overtook her with force— could she herself have been the cause? Elsa searched her mind for any previous thoughtless actions which could have triggered conflict between the two. She had managed to get on the seventh year’s nerves numerous times, but the signs were usually different; from personal experience, her annoyance was most often characterized by extreme sarcasm, if not complete neglect. This was something different. Family issues, perhaps?

As usual, curiosity got the best of her in the end, and she sprinted down the corridor to catch up to the troubled Gryffindor. “Anne, wait up!” she called, half-hopeless that she would get no response. Her voice lowered to ensure a sense of confidentiality as soon as she was a close enough distance, “Hey, is something the matter? You seem kind of off. Did you sleep last night?”

[gryoona-blog]

Withdrawing herself from the Ravenclaw, she paces back to the Gryffindor common room, only to find herself being followed and for a moment, she swore the porcelain figure was chasing after her. Darkened orbs gasp at the thought of it all, until the familiar voice echoed down the empty corridors and she sighed in relief. She couldn't tell Elsa about the package, no no no. She couldn't tell Elsa about her irrational fear, no no no. She couldn't, she just couldn't. 

As the other spoke she stopped in her tracks, calmed herself down and at this point, thoughts are deluging her mind, plaguing her. What is she going to tell Elsa? What is she going to do with the doll? How is she going to tell Elsa if she asks? 

Annelise spins herself around to face Elsa, her figure straightens and she looks Elsa in the eye only to find herself staring, rather unreasonably at the other. 

“I-I think my biological mother sent me a living doll.” “No, no, no. I’m being serious.” “Elsa. It moved.”

The second her fingers grasped onto the lid, liberating its contents free from suffocation, she had sworn she saw the doll twitch. 

“Look, I’ll show you.”

Annelise pointed at the opened box with the porcelain monstrosity inside, and she quivers in her skin before gently guiding Elsa to get a closer look.She shuffles back, peering past the others shoulder.

“It’s alive, I’m telling you.” “L-look, why don’t you take this with you for the night. A-and I’ll take it back tomorrow..” “Please. Please Elsa, please.”

Eyes dancing in its sockets, nervously as she pokes the other from behind.

[gryoona-blog]

` troubles, p&a

` peterdor

Rain, rain go away. Come back another day.

No matter how many times she chanted it to herself, the rain would not stop. It was stubborn and as ignorant as the tears that flooded her waterline. She was afraid to blink, to close the thin veil where lighter orbs stare up, and she forbids herself to cry. Shes got both hands wrapped over her lips, pressing harder as the tears threatens to spill and for the first time, she feels weak, she feels lost. Set astray by emotions and she feels desolated even with the company of the fellow Gryffindor beside her, she felt empty, so ever so empty.

Now sat two dilemmas on her frail shoulders, each limb weighing down the threat of being broken. One carries the burden of being weak, defenseless and utterly broken while the other held on to the responsibility of being strong, undefeated and brave, she wanted everyone to believe in her facade - she wanted everyone to know, that she was brave and courageous. But with the unfortunate news of her parents - she felt the need to break herself apart and let it all shatter. On one hand, her mother was fine, but her father - her father could no longer send her those small, little thoughtless gifts that meant so much to her, from the tiniest of puzzles that he had constructed himself to the different flavored gum that always seemed to astonish her. 

Her current parents, the Addilyn estate had notified her of these events and she was crushed at the mention of her fathers sudden accident and a part of her cursed her biological mother, cursing herself for ever leaving her father behind. They abandoned her - as illogical as that sounded. 

“Peter, I’m fine.” “You don’t have to do this.” “I’m fine.”

As much as she wanted to believe those words for herself, she seldom found the courage too. She was not fine, she needed him beside her, she was not fine. Glowing red, she lowers her head as brown strands inadvertently fall around her, and at this point - she’s bawling. There is no holding back, she’s lost motivation to keep it together. She was done, done with being strong. 

[gryoona-blog]

` dolls, e&a

` ravelsa

Jaded by the eeriness of the dark, the night prolonged, as if not wanting to end. It crept with vigilance, slowly its fingertips would lace around her as each breath arduously left her gaped lips. Palms become sweaty, tossed under the blankets as her grasp tightens – clenched. Almost numb, senseless she becomes and she is impervious to the pain, the throbbing pain that tousled her heart in its ribcage. A second breath draws in and this time, she is lucky as panicked orbs open and instinctively gripping onto her heart from the outside and she breathes, irregularly but she breathes. Immediately, as dilated pupils shoot for the box that sat by the corner of her bed. She had been neglectful to open it, a part of her was afraid but she did not know why, the other was merely a burning hatred that ignited inside of her. Part of her loathed her biological mother and perhaps the feelings were mutual. But then again, some sort of magnetism pulled her towards it, curiosity killed the cat, and now, it’s about to do the same thing to her.

Trembling fingers caress the edges of the box, hesitant in her actions she retrieves them only to find them hovering over the lid again and again. She swallows, and this time she is certain, that she will open it. Mustering the courage she whips the lid off and before she could react, she scrambles back into the closures of her blanket, gasping for precious air.

The very first rays of dawn sporadically pierce through the timidly dark room. The box had remained opened, untouched and unwanted. However, majority of her was riveting with interest and curiosity but repelled were the emotions of fear. She does little to make contact with it, rushing off to get ready before darting for the door. Stumbling more than usual over her own feet, as she crashed into the Ravenclaw; drained orbs dart back and forth before easing a crooked smile onto her lips.

“Oh, Elsa...”

Cold fingers elevate to rest on her nape as she sighs, sight dropping to the floor. Somewhat relieved, that the doll wouldn’t be running after her. Precisely, she was afraid of a porcelain doll. Its features were dramatically familiar, but she was all too afraid to get a close look.

“I-I’m going to go now.”

[fy-yoona]