𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆

[weak6]

*is a freak, but is too shy to go in for the first kiss*

[underusedmodels]

[hilaroze]

——— 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑲.

It’s presumptuous to assume that anything is out of my control, the comment is poised on the tip of his tongue, a syllabic pointe ready to pirouette into existence - but, no. Brook didn’t know a single woman who would take kindly to the thought of being within reach of any man ( even if he was the man in question ), least of all the one sitting in front of him now.

“That’s still a farce,” he opted for instead, “Masquerading as another’s fate would be the equivalent of me walking into this very room fifteen minutes ago and offering our waiter a Benjamin,“ honesty was rarely his forte, a risk he only took if he was sure of the outcome, “if only so I would have the guarantee of speaking to you.”

A conspiratorial glance to his right and he took in the couplet that would have been his own, “They would have had me sitting beside you all morning pretending to listen to whomever sat in front of me, all whilst truly eavesdropping on your conversations to find a lull to insert myself in.” He drew his hands together as he finished speaking, the fingertips of his right hand grasping the engraved ring on his left and turning thrice before leaning forward quickly, voice dropping several octaves to a mere whisper, “Thus I became the master of my own fate.”

“What would you say to that?” Brook’s voice returned to its normal tenor as his spine curved back against the chair once more, “Will this be worth the pay off?”

Hila’s hand travels to the large pearl hanging from her necklace, gently twisting it this way and that. She prefers princess necklaces, or opera-style for adventurous evenings, but has chosen a collar for today. It fits snugly, midway up her neck, clasped like a pair of hands. As she toys with her jewelry, she attempts to discern a proper response. His little story has rendered her speechless for a few fleeting moments. She studies him with an unabashed stare all the while; her thoughts are paint strokes rather than words. Recently, she acquired a new color. Its exact shade is a mystery, as rich and complex as midnight, thick and lustrous enough to appear polished. His silhouette should be — will be — made of it. 

“That depends on what you think you’ve invested in,” she ventures at last. Unspoken is that her time, to give no mention of herself, is worth far more than a hundred bucks. “You have inserted yourself into my morning — and, we have spoken, however briefly.” Hila reaches for a sugar cube to stir into her tea as she talks. She plucks one from the bowl, examines it briefly, and drops it into the teacup. “The clock runs out in a minute or two, and then you’ll be on your way to another table, fated or not,” she continues, stirring little circles in the cup, taking care to avoid scraping the sides. 

“What more can I give you in that time?” The tea is no better, but she uses the cup to conceal her smirk. “I'm curious, really. If you walked away with buyer’s remorse … Well, that might break my heart.”

[hilaroze]

——— 𝑫𝑶𝑴.

“rosey posey,” the empty teacup in the middle of the table has an echo, and it spins the greeting of the lighter-haired woman around like a marble, popping it back out with new syllables. honey bunny. rosey posey. they talk in the same breathy intonations, a girlish trick learned over time.

dom fits her fingers into hila’s and rubs her thumb over the skin it can reach. “i’m here. if only we’d worn hats – then we could make out as park avenue presbyterians and claim religious sanctuary.” that’s the only qualification dominique could ever find on the fabulous dressed people who wound in and out of stone churches on sundays. it was the only thing she considered when she contemplated religion. she has more to say, but stops, a fixed-hush look of concentration pinching her features as she lifts a hand towards hila’s chin. it’s a look only girlhood and plenty of mirrors perfect, and she makes a vague noise from the back of her throat to say open. there’s a smudge of her lipstick on the outer corner of hila’s mouth, and dom pushes her thumb over the discolouration to take it away with her. she wipes the finger pad on the tablecloth and returns her whole hand to hila’s.

“better.”

the sensation of touch brings with it the keenest sense of heartbreak — a pang, sharp as being stuck by a needle, more a stab than a prick. the feeling is nearly enough to bring tears to her eyes, but hila contains the burst of emotion with a tight smile. how could she have been so careless? a compact mirror is nestled in her purse, tucked between a pair of sunglasses and a sleek case containing tissues. if she peers to the left, her reflection is warped yet visible in one of the flower vases. as with all of providence’s best rooms, mirrors hang in intervals about the walls. its students seek to gaze at themselves for a variety of reasons, many borne of something much uglier than mere vanity. hila is no exception, and yet the thought that she might be out of place in any way had not crossed her mind until —

until dom reaches out to make it better. 

matter out of place is pollution, is profanity. the metaphor blooms like algae before she can wrap her head around it; who else has seen, after all, this little mistake? her anxiety is small but heavy enough to suffocate. hila’s thoughts begin to spiral out of control, until she shuts them down with a quick affirmation: nothing dom touches is anything but sacred. before she can work up the courage to excuse herself and flee to the nearest restroom to reapply her entire face, the moment is gone. she watches it disappear, like some specter flitting over the top of dom’s glossy head, before her gaze lowers to meet her eyes instead. 

hila sniffs daintily, shifts just so in her seat, and offers a quiet, “thanks.” 

returning to the topic at hand, she replies, “that is more elegant than what i had in mind,” despite having had nothing in mind at all. “ ‘ seven chances, ’ that sort of thing. i should like to be chased by a hundred veiled brides through central park, but it’s the set-up we could have borrowed for ourselves. can you imagine?” she drops that phrase, her favorite, as she leans away. it replaces her own incredulous designs with whatever the other person can devise on their own; and, she trusts dom’s imagination with all of her heart. meanwhile, the waiter failed to return with a fresh cup of tea; hila busies her hands with thumbing circles into dom’s knuckles instead. 

she murmurs, “no, the simplicity of church ladies is more realistic.” noting that she has spoken too quietly to be heard, she picks up a conversational tone to finish, “anyway, there’s a conversation to be had about some news – ” she reaches out to lightly tap dom’s nose. even under duress, she could not be forced to pick dom’s best feature. the deceptively rounded tip of her nose is a favorite, still. “but, not here.”

[explicitcherry]

the rumors are true, i am an angel.

[hilaroze]

——— 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑲.

“Believe in fate?” It was a nasty habit he had, queries echoed back to their inquirers - they would never hear it from him, Brook had always held a vindictive pleasure in tripping people up ( he could almost hear the scrawl of pen against paper, Noah’s discernible glare fixing upon him on the couch ) and this was his choice method of doing so. He leaned back, propping one ankle against a navy-encased knee; a stance he had found himself in so often, when they inevitably carved a memoriam into stone, this was the pose he would be frozen in for eternity. “Of course not, darling.”

“Fate implies that there’s something outside my realm of control and I refuse to accept that as truth,” the corner of a mouth quirks up, fingers curling delicately around the slim handle of the porcelain mug that had replaced the teacup, “‘ We are the masters of our own destiny, the makers of our own fate. ’ I think Churchill had it right,” the coffee felt cheap on his tongue, bitterness seeping into every crevice of his mouth; he didn’t pull a face as so many would opt to, instead choosing to ignore the grounds floating along the surface to glance over Hila’s face, her chin, her lips, her nose, before settling once more in her eyes, “Would you agree?”

As Hila listens to his explanation, she imagines herself feeding him the lines. Hand over hand, strips of paper covered in her handwriting, a ghostly smile. The words and what goes whispered beneath them are precisely what she hoped he might say. Indeed, had she been him, she would have offered the same worldview in a neat couple of sentences. Her lips curl into a smirk at the mention of Churchill — everyone has their references, along with their tells and kinks and quirks. ‘ Is he cataloging me, too? ’ she wonders.

For her part, Hila wishes she believed in fate. If she were a figure in someone’s dream or an automaton filled with code, then worry of meaning might never come to her. Or, it would be an inborn answer. Blissfully ignorant, unable to question anything beyond her own desires, she would act singularly as part of something larger and more significant than herself. Like being unconscious, being beholden to destiny opened up a world of false possibilities. She tended to overlook the truth in favor of pretty dishonesty. 

Instead of describing this to him, she says, “I would, although Churchill wasn’t including everyone when he said that. Of course, I like to think I make my own path.” This is partially a lie, but she appears more coy than guilty as she utters it. “And, I’m sure you make yours. But — you said something beyond your control; how about someone? I think some masquerade as fate for others.” Hila sips her tea, conscientiously checking her posture as she does.

As an afterthought, she adds, “ — Priscilla believed Elvis was godlike.”

[hilaroze]

——— 𝑫𝑶𝑴.

setting: sunday, august 17th ; weyerhaeuser ballroom, providence college

purpose: ( event ) providence’s orientation tea ; round no. 4

with: @saintdcm​

BEFORE SHE SPOTS DOM, Hila is attempting to salvage her tea with a few sugar cubes. One. Two. A pinch — three, four, five of them. Someone stood in the ballroom hours before now and made the decision to place the bowls within easy reach, assuming college students were capable of behaving themselves better than a gaggle of preschoolers. Though it has been nice to see familiar faces, Hila’s interest in orientation, packaged neatly into cute games with study-backed professionalization outcomes, is dissipating. She reaches one hand into the sugar bowl, her fingernails scraping a few gritty cubes, and pulls out a handful. They plop, one after another, into her cup, turning a sickly shade of brown even thinner than the tea itself. She taps the top cube with her little spoon to force them down. 

Hila is sucking on the spoon while her free hand’s fingers tap a rhythmless tune on the tabletop when she finally sees Dom approaching. By way of greeting, she smiles around the spoon. She realizes, belated, she has no interest in explaining the mess. Her hand shoots up, straight into the air, bracelets tinkling, fingers curling into wave. One of the waiters is at her side in a few seconds' time, apologizing for the delay as they remove the dishes.

“Oh, honey bunny, please say you’ve come to rescue me,” she breathes, reaching out for Dom’s hands. “We should have made up a colorful excuse and gone for ice cream instead.”

[hilaroze]

——— 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑲.

“Let me stop you.” Brook’s deep tenor cuts across the murmur of tea against china and the waiter comes to a halt, blank eyes glance in his direction, slender tie threatening to drip into Hila’s teacup in his pursuit of the one settled in front of Brook, over which a broad palm has spread, “I’d prefer coffee.”

“Hey, you,” the edges of the words are softened as he turns his attention away from the bashful apology and steadies on the woman across from him. Lips tug northward as a quip about destiny settles on the tip of his tongue, as if he hadn’t slipped the very same waiter a hundred to switch his placement ten minutes prior, “Looks like fate is on our side today, hm?”

She’s mid-taste when he turns his attention to her. With a small, sweet smile, Hila resumes lightly touching the pad of her little finger to the freshly poured tea in her cup. As expected, it’s less than the scalding temperature she prefers. She concludes, after a quick tap to her tongue, that they've chosen to go with the cheap variety. His coffee has a slim chancing of being better, though she might ask for a sip anyway. ‘ Disappointing, ’ but the beverages are far from the main event of this particular occasion. 

“In at least one way,” she replies. She contemplates that word — our — and chuckles. “If you believe in fate, of course.” 

This speed-networking, not speed-dating; she’s supposed to ask what his daddy does and what internship kept him busy all summer. Do you have prospects, do you have connections, or should I move on? Hila is unwilling to be bored out of her mind so soon, and especially not with him sitting across from her. 

“Do you, Brook?”

[hilaroze]

[text] Let me make you dinner tonight. // [drunk text] Please don’t hate me I’m too tired and too dizzy to be hated

❓❤️ brook ❤️❓

[ H → B ]  i had plans.  ( 02:05 PM )

[ H → B ]  ... i'll cancel. 💋 ( 02:05 PM )

/ / / /

[ H → B ]  what an elegant and effective apology! ( 02:57 AM )

[ H → B ]  you owe me three dozen roses. to start. 🔪🌹 ( 07:31 AM )

[hilaroze]

# / & / %

💙🐦 bby birdie 🐦💙

a RANDOM text.

[ H → B ] i had daddy go by the promontory while he was in ca. he brought some bottles for us to sample, literally just arrived.

[ H → B ] sleepover ? unrelated but related, i have so much to tell you.

a LOVING text.

[ H → B ] baby-doll, you keep me young. 

[ H → B ] i’d be wholly lost without you. 💝💋

a CURIOUS text.

[ H → B ] what are you doing tonight? please say something absolutely insane.

[hilaroze]

all the text symbols ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ

🍯🐰 💛 honey bunny 💛🐰🍯

a MORNING text. 

[ H → D ] i made pancakes. but the plan has gone awry.

[ H → D ] they’re malformed, it’s hideous. & i used salt by accident. 😭😭

[ H → D ] pls come downstairs and help me.

a text that WASN’T SENT. 

[ UNSENT ] so i did something stupid and i’m going to try to explain it by text instead of just calling you because im embarrassed and also i saw on someones snapchat that youre having a great time right now and i dont want to kill the vibes with my problems but 

[ UNSENT ] can i call you.

[ UNSENT ] youre supposed to know i need you dom. i shouldnt have to put it in words.

[ H → D ] i’m calling in 2 minutes. please pick up. 🙏🏻

a RUSHED text. 

[ H → D ] at blue hill with daddy & you won’t BELIEVE who’s here.

[ H → D ] the audacity, it’s impressive. everyone is gaping. internally.

[ H → D ] wait they’re coming over what. i’ll update you later 

a DRUNK text.

[ H → D ] DOM 

[ H → D ] I MISS U SO MUCH

[ H → D ] PLES COME BACK FROM TH EBATHROOM NOW

a SUGGESTIVE text. 

[ H → D ] bought some new shampoo & i have a feeling it’s truly divine.

[ H → D ] let’s wash our hair & have a sleepover?🧡

a LATE NIGHT text.

[ H → D ]   ⁠— image sent ⁠—

[ H → D ] couldn’t sleep so i painted this. thoughts? 👀

[ H → D ] i think it’s you, somehow.

a HATEFUL text. directed @ dom? thank u, next

[ H → D ] 🔪🔪🔪🔪 im furious dom. i hate feeling this way. i’m supposed to be a sweetie, but i really and truly understand mary haines right now. im going to explode. 

[ H → D ] or cry

[ H → D ] i’m already crying, fucking hell

[ H → D ] hit him with your car for me.

a RANDOM text.

[ H → D ] just finished “she came to stay” and i’m ravenous. do you have any recs?

a SCARED text.

[ H → D ] got in a really gross fight with samantha just now which is whatever and honestly she deserves it. she’s crying & i can hear her down the hall. she’s a paper doll, absolutely no substance, just performative but 

[ H → D ] i really don’t know what i’m going to tell daddy.

[ H → D ] he’s going to be so disappointed.

[ H → D ] probably won’t talk to me all week.

[ H → D ] i can’t deal with that dom,

[ H → D ] not now. 

a LOVING text.

[ H → D ] 👩‍❤️‍👩💖💕🍭

[ H → D ] i got us a reservation at dorsia.

[ H → D ] *** per se @ 6pm, as it were

a CURIOUS text.

[ H → D ] heard from birdie that you bought me something in paris 👀 i can’t bear to wait, so i’m heading over now. bringing dessert.

an EXCITED text.

[ H → D ] i have a letter for you. come get it. i want to see your face when you read it. 

[ H → D ] 💓💓💓💓💓💓

an ACCIDENTAL text.

[ H → D ] no, you don’t get it, i will literally die otherwise 

[ H → D ] oh 😅

[ H → D ] ignore that.

a HEARTBREAKING text. 

[ H → D ] i keep thinking about it. it’s really driving me up the wall, except not in actuality which feels … somehow worse. there has to be more than whatever this is. i’m so empty, dom, it’s like an abyss in my chest. i can’t even fill it with lies anymore. i can’t even fill it with “oh, it’s fine, what more could you want.” i can’t even fill it with you anymore.🖤

[hilaroze]

text] When I think things are about to change … I’m always proven wrong.

🔪 harry 💚

[ H → H ] 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ H → H ] drop your location & i’ll come.

[hilaroze]

[drunk text] Can you pls remind me tomorrow of how much of a fool I made myself tonight

💙🐦 bby birdie 🐦💙

[ H → B ] NO ! i would NEVER embarrass you like that, bby !!!!!

[ H → B ] 😘

[hilaroze]

[drunk text] You are the most beautiful girl I have ever known

🍯🐰 💛 honey bunny 💛🐰🍯

[ H → D ] i asked u to nver lie 2 me dom

[ H → D ] u own a mirrow

[ H → D ] a  roo m of  them actuadlyl

[rpmememaker]

Send “✆” for a MORNING text. Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT. Send “☎” for a RUSHED text. Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text. Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text. Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text. Send “#” for a RANDOM text. Send “@” for a SCARED text. Send “&” for a LOVING text. Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text. Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text. Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

[whambamthankyoubram]

more texts for you bitches

ANGSTY TEXTS, BITCH

[text] You should have told me you wanted me out of your life. [text] I should have never let you back into my life. [text] Okay [muse’s name] what’s the deal, pretty sure this is you…listen if you want me to leave you alone, please just tell that. [text] Please don’t walk away. [text] Please don’t do this. [text] When are you going to realize I want nothing to do with you? [text] You want nothing to do with me, I get it. [text] I’m an idiot. You fooled me again. [text] When I think things are about to change … I’m always proven wrong. [text] I just want you to be happy. And you’ll be happier without me. [text] I just hate that someone could make me trust [him/her/them] the way that I did [text] The truth is I’m not over you. [text] The truth is I never really wanted to be with you. [text] I’m seeing someone else. [text] How the hell did you get my number, stalker? [text] You’re so selfish. [text] I just saw you leave with [her/him/them]. [text] FUCK YOU AND YOUR DUMB CUTE FACE

LOVING TEXTS, BITCH

[text] Did I tell you today that you’re the most adorable? Cause, yeah. [text] Be careful. [text] I’m only saying it because I love you. [text] I’m only saying it because I care about you. [text] Okay, I’m bringing coffee. [text] I’m thinking dinner and a movie later this week? [text] Let me take you out, please? [text] Let me make you dinner tonight. [text] I want you to be happy. [text] You’re always safe with me. [text] I can’t stop thinking about you. [text] I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. [text] I know you may not feel like you are, but you are loved. And important. Please don’t forget that. [text] It was so good seeing you. [text] You don’t need this shit. [text] I’ll be there in five minutes. [text] Let me help, please? [text] You’re important to me. [text] Stop falling asleep in the bathtub. You’re going to drown and die and leave me and I’m not having that. [text] I would gladly watch Netflix and eat Thai with you any day. [text] I’d give up my phone charger AND the last piece of gum for you. That’s love. [text] Hey beautiful no judgment but why is there a bucket of KFC chicken in the bathtub??

ANGRY TEXTS, BITCH

[text] If you don’t want me to bust your window, I suggest you answer the phone. Now. [text] To quote Mean Girls, you’re a fugly slut. [text] Are you SERIOUSLY bringing that up right now!? [text] Lose my number, asshole. [text] You’re so predictable and obnoxious. And it’s not only me who thinks so. [text] …The least you could do is answer, wtf. [text] You’re a piece of shit human being and an even worse friend. [text] This is YOUR FAULT. And you can’t even pretend like it isn’t, because you know it is. [text] Why couldn’t you just stay out of it? [text] Holy fucking shit, take a hint, asshole. [text] Go fuck yourself. [text] What the fucking hell is wrong with you? [text] You can take your stuff back as long as I don’t light it on fire first. [text] I have cramps and a migraine so you do NOT want to mess with me right now [text] Bye and have a very fuck you day

SEXY TEXTS, BITCH

[text] Just let me suck your dick and be happy. Let me have this. [text] Why are you so hot…like honestly, it’s not fair. [text] Yeah, you looked good in your [dress/shirt/pants] last night but really, they looked way better on my floor. [text] Come over. With condoms. [text] You should come over, clothing optional. [text] I feel like a nasty slut and I LOVE IT [text] Sorry I got drunk and texted you about my sex life [text] Sex on a rooftop - trashy or adventurous? [text] If you’re not at my apartment, shirtless, in five minutes, I will be personally offended. [text] I don’t think he likes that I’m always sending him pictures of me in my bra but he needs to get it together [text] It’ll be like The Notebook, except with way more of my penis. [text] I didn’t know that all of his brothers would be hot and musically inclined, too. That’s a dick move on behalf of biology. [text] I DON’T WANT YOUR DICK. I WANT BRUNCH. [text] So is it your turn now to pretend like dating someone else would stop us from fucking? [text] I just need some of your time and all of your body. [text] I am available for nakedness [text] I think about [him/her/them] when I masturbate so I guess you could call it love

DRUNK TEXTS, BITCH

[drunk text] So wat are you really over me no w [drunk text] AND I UNFOLLOWED YOU ON INSTAGRAM TOO, BITCH [drunk text] You are my queen and my savior and I love you forever [drunk text] You are the most beautiful girl I have ever known [drunk text] I’m eating macaroni and cheese on a slice of pizza and autocorrect just wrote that text for me pretty much, what’s your night like [drunk text] Listen up slut, you’re one hot piece of ass and if [he/she/they] doesn’t realize it, it’s their loss [drunk text] but what’s the point of a Disney sing off party if you’re not here. You have to be be the Pumbaa to my Timon [drunk text] Can you pls remind me tomorrow of how much of a fool I made myself tonight [drunk text] FUCK YOU YOU’RE GORGEOUS [drunk text] I think maybe you and me should like go out and eat pizza or something check yes or no [drunk text] Please don’t hate me I’m too tired and too dizzy to be hated [drunk text] I hate (him/her) but less when I’m drinking. Thanks, alcohol. [drunk text] Omf g you need to get over here now I think I’m dyin [drunk text] SWEEEEEEEET CAROLINE

[yassmines-deactivated20161205]

me: *puts lipstick on, kisses the page and sprays it with perfume, passes the attendance sheet*