𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄.

love is holy because it is like grace ─ THE WORTHINESS OF ITS OBJECTis never really what matters. senol, laleartist. glassblower. thirty-three.

[lalesencl]

❛ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵. ❜

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓. 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘. 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄.

*HEADER CREATED BY BARROWEDITS.

[lalesencl]

LOCATION  ─ AENIMA TATTOOS. WHEN ─ FEBRUARY, FRIDAY 18TH, 2022. AROUND 6.10PM. CLOSED STARTER ─ MALIK YEBOAH.

It was always in the back of Lale’s mind if she was ever going to see Malik again ; memories flood in of the music festival they had met at. It was in the middle of July in Toronto. They were attached at the hip for three days and seeing as Lale didn’t know anybody in the city, it was easy to keep close to Malik and he never minded. The moment he learned Lale was by herself, the young man was determined to keep a watchful on her, and what surprised Lale the most was that he never wanted anything in return. Instead, Malik gave Lale his oversized jacket when they went to the beach, he showed her the local musicians he liked to listen to on Tuesday evening. He didn't have to do any of that. He did anyway, out of pure concern for a stranger.

When the steps through the door of the tattoo shop, brunette scans the space with a cerulean eye with haste. A few moments poss when her sight lands on the back of Malik’s head who was sitting towards the back of the shop. She rushes to him and as soon as she’s close enough, Lale bends forward to wrap slender arms around broad shoulders, giving him an embrace. ❝ Merhaba, merhaba, merhaba ! ( hello, hello, hello!) ❞ Lale hangs on for a second longer before releasing her old friend, letting him stand. ❝ I can’t believe you’ve been in Paris for a full year and this is the first time we’ve been able to meet up. So, this is where you work, ey? ❞ She looks around the impressive shop, nodding. Lale has seen Aenima come up on her Instagram page before many times, but truthfully, when she learned that Malik was going to be an artist there, that's when her interest truly peaked for a tattoo. 

Turning back to face Mal, Lale gives him a small, closed-mouth smile, but she's nonetheless happy. A lot has happened in the last few weeks and it's starting to weigh her down. She can feel it in the middle of her chest. ❝ Okay. Um, ❞ With a quick movements and to ignore the small silence, Lale digs through her messy purse only to pull out an old receipt with a scribble of writing on it in gentle scripter. “Here’s what I would like, but I’ve changed it about twenty times since we last talked about it. ❞ Lale hands over the crumbled and thin piece of paper for Malik to take a look at.

[stefansalvatored]

[lalesencl]

𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐋.​

✧･ﾟ* ☾

Punctuality was important to Lida, especially with the type of schedule she had. From caring for her daughter and mother, to her family’s business and her own social interactions, she was someone who was constantly on the go. Therefore, she hated it when she was the one running late as it fucked up her whole schedule. It meant she had to adjust her time with whoever she was meeting with, which was either lessening the time with them or even having to reschedule which she despised since she’d rather have it over and done with.

It’s why for today she cleared her whole mid-morning and afternoon because she was meeting with Lale. After their last encounter, she learned that she needed time after every discussion to recuperate as it was not only emotionally taxing, but if she wanted to NOT have her emotions get the best of her, she needed that brief time period to regain her bearings. 

Unfortunately, she was running late and talk about impeccable timing…She hoped Lale wasn’t getting the wrong impression that she didn’t want to see her. Lida wanted to try…For the sake of their relationship and for those around them, especially when her daughter was ecstatic after hearing that she was living near her auntie. However, she got held back as she had to meet with Senol Palace’s superintendent over their utilities. It took longer than usual as they had to trek throughout the hotel. 

Finally making it to La Bibimerie, Lida fast walked to their table and greeted her younger sister with an apologetic smile while she was about to take her seat. However, as soon as Lale stood up, Lida paused and then approached her as she greeted her with kisses on both cheeks, before finally sitting down. They were in public and formalities were a must. “Üzgünüm geç kaldım. (Sorry, I’m late) I got held up at the hotel, were you waiting too long? We could order right away.” 

Listening to her sister’s words, Lida stopped and met her gaze as she shook her head to respond to her first query, “I haven’t, but I do love Korean food…So it’ll be interesting to taste their French twist on it. Do you frequent here?” Pressing her lips into a thin line, It was a no brainer that Lale was trying her best to maintain her composure, but being her older sister she could see right through her. “…APPEAL to me.” she repeated. Biting her tongue, Lida knew better than to make a snide remark nor take offence. “Right…Well, thank you for the invite and I appreciate the thought. If it helps, I wouldn’t have cared if you even took me to McDonalds.” 

❝ It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. ❞ Lale was just happy her sister was here, like always. It usually started out like this though, didn't it? ❝ I was thinking about the same thing, I’m ready to order if you are1 The waiter should be around shortly. ❞ She cranes her neck quickly to see if she could spot the waiter. Lale was starving ❝ I haven’t been here before, no. I figured it might be a fun thing for us to try together. ❞ She smiles proudly. It’s cheesy when she says it like that, but she can’t help it. She’s always wanted a big sister. Her big sister. On her travels, she’s met people, a lot of people, befriended them, hated others, many, many people she doesn’t remember the name of but she’ll know them if she’s looking that their nudes ... But none of them had become this found family trope she had hoped for. Sure, they’d exchange numbers, Twitter and Instagram handles, but Lale can’t stand to be lonely - she needs the physicality. Lale doesn't want Lida to be just another Instgram handle. ──── Oh, fuck. Does Lida even have Instgram?

By now, her attention has turned to the waiter who was FINALLY coming back to fill Lale’s empty mimosa glass. She hadn’t even realize she nervously downed it all. She also slips in her order, Racine de lotus and Salade De Concombre Oi Muchim. ❝ Yeah. Yeah, you know, ─ because you’re ─  ❞ By the time her sight has landed on Lida, Lida is already looking at her with such a stare that she loses her words. Before she could explain, her sister was already offended. What she was going to say was the place, like her sister, is unique and unapologetic. But the words are lost defeat. ❝ ... Oh, ❞ Is all she can say, disappointed that restaurant like this doesn’t seem to be like it would be the choice to impress Lida. But that isn’t the case at all. Lale is disappointed in herself for assuming she would have the taste buds of something high maintenance or of the finer realm. ❝ Okay. Well, I’ll remember that for next time ... ❞ It all she says, lapsing into a silence as she sits anf waits for their food.

As the pregnant pause continues, the more Lale begins to fiddle around with her fork. ❝ ... I want to see mom. ❞ The brunette ends up blurting out, unable to keep the real reason she called for Lida to meet her. She wants to see Damla. Wants. It sounded so child-like, eager. ❝ I will - I will see mom. ❞ She wets her lips, changing her words hasty to sound more firm, less vulnerable. She’s too scared to show anything else to Lida, Before Lida can ask, she says while drawing her sight down toward her plate, though her tone is still rather snippy. ❝ I don’t know why. It just feels like something I have to do ... Closure, maybe ... ❞ It would make the most sense. It was a buck up and get your answers now before the source is gone, kind of thing. Lale wants to know so many whys. Why did Damla give so much of her own destruction to her child? Why didn't she passed on more of her? Why did she never stroke her hand or play hide-and-seek? Why did they have to teach Lida to not like her?  

Setting the mimosa glass down, empty once more before lunch had even made it to the table, the brunette talks on casually, almost as a joke, ❝ Besides, my therapist believes I’m in a good headspace to start asking questions. ❞ Sometimes, Lale really believes that therapists are just out here to be nosy and listen to other people’s family gossip, but hey, at least it felt like someone was listening.

[lovestereo]

Visit Original Link

[lalesencl]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍.

.

Ashamed, Jean immediately grabs the napkins and brushes the blood away from the bar before taking a clean one and resting it against his bleeding eyebrow. The pressure doesn’t feel good, it hurts, but he keeps it there still. “Sorry.” He apologized, glancing her way sheepishly. He hopes that his presence doesn’t intrude on her night but he feels like he already has. He concern is touching though and he sends he a smile. 

“Thanks for the napkins.” Its the least he can say when she looks so worried for him. He doesn’t want to worry anyone but he really doesn’t want to go to a hospital and he came straight here from the meeting with his client. Perhaps he should have stopped at home and cleaned up more before coming here.

Dark brows furrow in concern. She wonders if Lida would be scolding her if she knew she was attempting to help a bloody and beaten stranger. Lale doesn’t know where he’s come from, she doesn’t know what he could have been doing. Very truthfully, this person beside very well could have just killed somebody and he’s either being incredibly calm and level-headed about this or he’s just lost his mind ... And yet, Lale still calls over the bartender to ask for a glass of ice and a few paper towel.  ❝ You don’t have to say sorry to me, ❞ Lale shrugs while fully facing the stranger. The longer she stares, the longer she becomes interested. No, really. Where the fuck did he come from? This shit isn't normal, right? ❝ Just for ... My own safety and everyone else’s safety in this club ... ❞ The brunette begins while grabbing the glass of ice and wrapping the towel once around it and hands it to the stranger for the swelling, ❝ Do I have to call the police? Like,  no one is going to bust through these doors and try to take you, or something? Because pal, you look like Liam Neesons, but like, if Liam Neesons got his ass absolutely handed to him. ❞

[lalesencl]

𝐂𝐀𝐎𝐈𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐑.

STARTER: @lalesencl​ LOCATION: Belleville, Evening

The storm had been brewing for a few days but no one had expected this. Caoimhín had always boasted about the mild winters in Paris having been used to the bitter winds and rain of Dublin. Now he was in the midst of one of the worst snowstorms he had ever experienced, and the young man was growing anxious as the night went on. He took it upon himself to go check in on some of his neighbours, worried about those more vulnerable, and had started a safe exit to Belleville Restaurant. The apartment complex was no longer safe, especially now that the power was out, so the residents agreed to all gather at Belleville Restaurant, thanks to the generosity of Mila. 

He was heading back upstairs to do some final checks and grab some blankets and hoodies from his apartment when he saw the brunette. She had been there earlier when he left, waiting outside her friend’s apartment door, but time had passed and she was still there with no sign of her friend. “Everything alright?” He asked, stopping to look over her. Blue eyes glanced out the window at the snow falling and he looked back at her with concern etched on his features.

“It’s not safe here with the power being out… it’s pitch black and those stairs,” he flicked his torch back at the staircase. “They’re a death trap waiting to happen.” Caoimhín sighed and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. ”I’m heading to Belleville Restaurant, if you want to come with me?” They didn’t exactly know each other, but he had seen her in passing a few times, calling on his neighbour, so he hoped she would trust him.

The winter storm came as all storms must, not a warm care with the gentle hand, but yet to rip and tear what could not stand its brutal onslaught - the responsibility of sheltering as much wind and ice and snow from Paris fell to the the old trees and buildings. But the city soon realized nothing was stopping this wickedness  Big snow swirled everywhere, the world outside was dangerously cold, and the big snow held the houses down and the people in. But not Lale. ❝ Defne! Defne, orada mısın? ( defne! defne, are you in there? ) ❞ Lale yells at the door, slamming a fist onto solid wood. She can only think of the worst as she violently begins to shaking the handle, desperately trying to get into the quiet apartment. Maybe she had gone already? That was most likely. That's what Lale was hoping with all of her heart.

Looking over to where a concerned voice had suddenly come from, she doesn’t know where to begin to explain what isn’t alright. She had to leave her budgies behind with her landlords. She knew Lillie and Eugène where going to do everything in their power to keep the birds warm and safe, but how could she not worry? Then, there was the fact that she couldn’t get ahold of Lida and her niece. All communications had gone down by the time she arrived at Defne's apartment. She didn't even think about sending a text before leaving her apartment, she feels guilty because of it. Now, she has to worry about an elderly friend. Lale tries to smile that comes with the kindness of the stranger’s help that’s offered, but she’s took exhausted to let it reach her ears. It took her two hours just to trudge over here, and it’s apparent by her mittens that are dripping wet and her coat that’s beginning to become heavy with melting snow that she's come along way. 

❝ I can’t leave. My friend - I haven’t heard from her in ... In hours ... Her name is Defne. Defne Abaci. She’s older, has a silver pixie cute. Have you seen or heard from her at all? ❞ Worried eyes move to the closed door and she rests her forehead against the frosty door, closing her eyes and sighs heavily. ❝ I can’t leave. I can't leave her ... ❞

[lalesencl]

𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐔𝐗.

       He’s so distracted by the turmoil of having to attend the reunion alone, and all the attendees continuing to waltz in, that he almost doesn’t hear her condition, let alone the fact that she’s agreed to grant him this one favor. “Whoa, ok… non, non non.” Adrien shakes his head, the expression written all over his features a telltale sign that that most definitely wasn’t what he was intending. In fact, the mere thought makes him queasy. As he strives to convince her that that most certainly isn’t the case, he processes what she’s just said. “Attendez… des gens ont demandé à prendre des photos de vos pieds? / Wait, people have asked to take photos of your feet?!” The mere thought both confuses him and makes him feel uncomfortable; who in the world—?! He prays away the discomfort, shifting his mind to the more pressing matters at hand. “I can assure you that isn’t the case. I promise. It’s uh…” It’s then that Adrien actually captures his counterpart’s gaze, immediately captivated by the sight of her eyes: doe like, lined with thick lashes.. aqua marine blue. One in particular a piercing shade of white.. they’re the most striking pair of eyes he’s ever seen, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t completely entranced. At least, momentarily. “—Erm.. it’s my high school reunion tonight, and uh.. I’m running into a lot of people. So, I need you to be my date. If it’s not too much to ask, of course.” 

Lale’s first and only instinct was to try and suppress the chuckle that slips up her throat and catches it on the tip of her tongue. His reaction can’t help but be seen as somewhat comical. When she was little, because Kivance and Damla put a leash on their daughters, Lale had to learn how to be mischievous in different ways. Hiding under the bed and grabbing ankles, giving her sister a completely melted popsicle in the dead of winter and running before Lida would notice was completely and totally not allowed. Learning how to be mischievous with her words was never really the thought out plan, or even an idea. It just sort of happened one day. Mostly because she has always been more spontaneous and playful than others, almost overly. And eventually even nervously. Laughter does have the power to override other emotions momentarily, so that's what she tends to strive for. But lately, she's been off her game, and she blames her families very sudden appearance in her life. 

❝ Bébé, les gens m'ont demandé beaucoup plus bizarre qu'une photo de mes pieds. ( babe, people have asked me for a lot weirder than a photos of my feet. )  ” Lale waves a hand at him as he tries to backtrack. ❝ It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m so sorry that I brought up my feet in the first place. ❞ Delicate shoulders shake gently with laughter. She takes the martini glass, completely unfazed by the frosty, chilled exterior on her fingertips. ❝ Mmm, mhm. Sure. ❞ Lale says, continuing to tease him mercilessly, which is apparent by the playful scrunch of her nose and the tut of her chin. ❝ Ah? ❞ An eye flickers over Adrien’s shoulder, thankful for the six inch heels she's wearing tonight, the dots started to connect ; the scene makes a lot more sense to her now. ❝ So, you basically want me to be your hot date. ❞ Tossing pin straight hair over one shoulder, a cerculen blue hue lands back on the stranger, a one sided grin on rose-coloured lips. This is going to be fun.

Placing a graceful hand on one shoulder, Lale spins the man around to face the crowd before linking their arms together, drawing them closer. As they begin walking, Lale doesn't waste time in playing the part ; her chin now rests on his shoulder, looking at Adrien with an adoring eye. ❝ What's your name, what do you do for a living, and what's your third favourite hobby? ❞

[gvzel]

AYÇA AYŞIN TURAN   |   1.04 ﹣ Zemheri

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Giulietta degli spiriti (Federico Fellini, 1965)

[lalesencl]

𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐋.

lale​:

Taken aback by her sister’s fire-rapid questions. Of course she has. ❝ That’s all I ever thought about as a teenager. But, I’ve come to accept that it’s not our fault. Not fully. We keep each other at arms length because ─ because that’s how our parents loved us. ❞ Lale shrugs, but the movement is stiff and forced while she continues to look out the window, trying to copy her sister’s standoff-ish nature, but lacked Lida’s tough skin, Lale was a glove turned inside-out, softness showing. ❝ Yeah, I wanted space, but not from my own sister! ❞ Lale cries loudly, even going as far to stomp her foot in futile manner and toss her hands up in the air, defeatedly. ❝ I knew I was never going to work with dad or become part of the hotel business. I knew it, but I tried! You say it’s a two way street. I tried, Lida! I fucking tried. So why was I shunned?” Lale can’t fight the unravelling of tears that well up in her eyes or the dormant anger that’s been concealing itself inside of her ribcage

Lida lashes out and Lale leans back into windowsill with a heavy sigh and closing her eyes tightly. She normally doesn’t lash out and this gives her the sign that Lida is reaching the end of her line. ❝ I get it. I get it, Lida.” She wasn’t ready to have this conversation. They both weren’t. They were both still too bruised and hurting from their growing pains and their words to each other only felt like salt in the wounds. ❝ You feel betrayed, you felt like I left you behind, right? I wanted to hurt mom and dad. I never meant to hurt you in the process, ❞ She whispers. Maybe it’s for the best, Damla forgetting Lale. It would definitely be a lot easier even though Lale already felt like she was nothing in Damla and Kivance’s eyes. She wasn’t sure if they’d ever see her as anything more than flighty, or unmanageable. 

Lale has to furiously blink back tears after Lida gives her the information that their own mother said the same thing. Her throat stings and tightens painfully. Sometimes, she just wishes she was WRONG. Deep down, she didn’t mean what she said. In many ways, she still feels like that same little girl who was just trying to get her parents attention without having to plead for it. 

Lale opens her mouth to tell Lida that she would consider the possibilty of seeing her mother. When she was ready more ready, perhaps. Then, Lida slips in the last few words and Lale’s lips are sealed. Her tongue roles against pink gums and against front teeth, the unsaid words rattling around against her tongue. With one last look, Lale steps back, giving her sister space for her to leave. ❝ I won’t keep you any longer. ❞ Gesturing to the door, Lale accepts that her sister wants to leave, ❝Please, go … Please. ❞ 

✧･ﾟ* ☾

Their parents were to blame, Lida wasn’t going to argue with that. However in her eyes, as they were growing up, she felt as if she had put in more effort than Lale when it came to their own. Lida was the head and her younger sister was the heart, it was evident that they both saw things on different playing fields. However, she was hit with the reality of Lale’s true sentiments in all this. She admitted to feeling like an outcast, shunned by the one she thought she could trust and suddenly, a wave of guilt and realization washed over Lida as she stood there not saying a word. 

Where did SHE go wrong? 

Perhaps it was due to being consumed by their parents’ expectations or maybe because she was caught up in the woes of her own life, from the divorce to her pregnancy. Lida only had herself at the end of the day and that lone wolf mentality stuck when she didn’t even realize that she could have had Lale by her side, even if she had done all this sacrificing to prevent her from getting roped into a legacy that she wanted no part of. 

With a hardened gaze, Lida simply shrugged it off and murmured, “What’s done is done.” No use in dwelling in the past when the present was the only thing that mattered. Further to that, she was emotionally drained at that point that she refused to carry out this conversation any longer. “Well now you know, so take what you will with all this information.” With that being said, Lida took her belongings, not even bothering to slip on her coat and immediately beelined her way to the exit without another word. 

── 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃.

[lalesencl]

𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐋.

✧･ﾟ* ☾

Lida thought she was being reasonable. Were there any lies to her words? In fact, what has Lale been doing these past couple of years? Cause she sure as hell wasn’t with her holding it down for their family. “It was a generalized assumption.” she replied in a monotonous tone. So much for practicing this discussion, she did the one thing she said she wouldn’t do and that was to push Lale to the edge. “It’s not like we have the best fucking relationship. Do you ever look at OTHER families and see how their siblings would interact? Did we have that kind of bond? Cause last I checked we had each other at arm’s length.” Lida’s aware she’s at fault too, but her pride didn’t help with showing any signs of empathy. The youngest Senol held her heart on her sleeve and if anything, the closest feeling Lida had of love was with Lale than her own parents—but that was all in the past. “I thought you wanted space…Away from all THIS.” She pointed at herself seeing as she was the one wearing the business formal clothing. “It’s a two way street, Lale.” They both didn’t know what they were going through, but Lida was trying to make it clear that her sister should have tried too. 

And suddenly, a switch flipped in Lida as she hissed out, “Well, FUCK YOU too.” Setting her mug down on the coffee table, she could no longer stomach anything as it would leave a bitter taste in her mouth. Just like her own attitude. “Right, cause the world revolves around you. You’re the VICTIM. Got it. Gladly, we can forget about this and move on. God, this was a fucking mistake. I’m so fucking stupid for even TRYING…” She got up from her seat and frustratingly ran a hand through her brown locks. She needed to leave. Lale probably didn’t care that their mother was sick. It’s not like they had a relationship to begin with. 

Just as she was about to walk off from the scene, she stopped and took a breather while observing Lale’s reaction to the news of Kamla’s sickness. “She’s sick.” she deadpanned. “And soon enough, we’ll REALLY be nothing to her.” Not that it meant anything, especially since it’s not like they mattered. They were trophies, OBJECTS of their success. A heavy sigh escaped Lida’s lips as she slowly calmed down and regained her composure. Taking a couple of cautious steps towards her sister, she pressed her lips together before emitting a sardonic chuckle, “Funny, she said the same thing. However, I practically fought for the concept of you knowing…” Forcing to meet Lale’s gaze, she wanted her to hear her out. “I thought it’d be shitty if you found out last or not at all. Hell, it’d be worse when she’s on the brink of death and she doesn’t fucking recognize you. I know…Damla and Kivance don’t even deserve the title of being called parents, but…” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head. It now hit her that this was probably a mistake. What was the point in Lale knowing? Lida mentally kicked herself as she realized that she was far from being considerate.

“You know what? My APOLOGIES. I shouldn’t have BURDENED you with useless news.” 

Taken aback by her sister's fire-rapid questions. Of course she has. ❝ That’s all I ever thought about as a teenager. But, I’ve come to accept that it’s not our fault. Not fully. We keep each other at arms length because ─ because that’s how our parents loved us. ❞ Lale shrugs, but the movement is stiff and forced while she continues to look out the window, trying to copy her sister's standoff-ish nature, but lacked Lida's tough skin, Lale was a glove turned inside-out, softness showing. ❝ Yeah, I wanted space, but not from my own sister! ❞ Lale cries loudly, even going as far to stomp her foot in futile manner and toss her hands up in the air, defeatedly. ❝ I knew I was never going to work with dad or become part of the hotel business. I knew it, but I tried! You say it’s a two way street. I tried, Lida! I fucking tried. So why was I shunned?” Lale can’t fight the unravelling of tears that well up in her eyes or the dormant anger that’s been concealing itself inside of her ribcage

Lida lashes out and Lale leans back into windowsill with a heavy sigh and closing her eyes tightly. She normally doesn't lash out and this gives her the sign that Lida is reaching the end of her line. ❝ I get it. I get it, Lida.” She wasn’t ready to have this conversation. They both weren’t. They were both still too bruised and hurting from their growing pains and their words to each other only felt like salt in the wounds. ❝ You feel betrayed, you felt like I left you behind, right? I wanted to hurt mom and dad. I never meant to hurt you in the process, ❞ She whispers. Maybe it’s for the best, Damla forgetting Lale. It would definitely be a lot easier even though Lale already felt like she was nothing in Damla and Kivance’s eyes. She wasn’t sure if they’d ever see her as anything more than flighty, or unmanageable. 

Lale has to furiously blink back tears after Lida gives her the information that their own mother said the same thing. Her throat stings and tightens painfully. Sometimes, she just wishes she was WRONG. Deep down, she didn’t mean what she said. In many ways, she still feels like that same little girl who was just trying to get her parents attention without having to plead for it. 

Lale opens her mouth to tell Lida that she would consider the possibilty of seeing her mother. When she was ready more ready, perhaps. Then, Lida slips in the last few words and Lale's lips are sealed. Her tongue roles against pink gums and against front teeth, the unsaid words rattling around against her tongue. With one last look, Lale steps back, giving her sister space for her to leave. ❝ I won't keep you any longer. ❞ Gesturing to the door, Lale accepts that her sister wants to leave, ❝Please, go ... Please. ❞ 

[lalesencl]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍.

Where: Le Rouge 

Time: 9:45PM 

@paristarters​

Bloodied, bruised and utterly spent, all Jean wanted was a drink. His ribs twinged every time he moved and his head spun with each new step to the bar but still he persisted. He wondered, in his state of bloodied pulp, if they’d sell to him but it was a risk he was willing to take. Finally, he made it to the bar and gingerly took a seat and ordered his favorite. “Old Fashioned, please.” 

Lale watches with a far away look as likes climb by the numbers to the photo she posted earlier today on Instagram. She sighs heavily, shoulders heaving, head hanging a little lower than before. So many likes, so many nice comments. Why doesn't she feel better? Squirming uncomfortably in her seat, the artist raises a hand to the worker behind the counter, catching their attention in order to ask for another gimlet. Just as she locks her phone and flips it over to not watch as the screen keeps blinking one notification after the other, a voices comes from one side and out of instinct, looks over to see someone who looks like he's in a lot of agony.

❝ ... Oh, ❞ Lale blinks once, twice. At first she doesn’t know what to do. ❝ ─ Oh, my ... Aman tanrım ( oh, my goddness ). ❞ Then, she turns sharply with her good eye flickering over the stranger and all of his ... blood. ❝ Do you ─ Do you need help? ❞ She doesn't exactly wait for an answer. Before the words had even finished coming out of her mouth, Lale was already half way over the counter and reaching an arm over the bar to grab a handful of napkins for the bloody stranger. ❝ You have some blood dripping onto the counter, from your eyebrow, I think. I can't actually tell. ❞

[linkinmoon]

― Andrei Tarkovsky, from Sculpting in Time

[lalesencl]

[lalesencl]

𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒.

It was late into night and Tiago had found the nearest open pizzeria having just finished a long shift at the hospital. The places open at this time were always a tad questionable, but he had to admit it didn’t taste too bad. Probably because he was starving and already half way through the cheap bottle of red, but he was happy. The doctor topped up his company’s glass, then his own and then grinned at them. “Not so bad, huh?” He swirled the wine in one hand and then settled back in the chair, eyes moving over the other person. “What has you up so late?” It was a reasonable question being that not many tended to eat dinner this late in the night, but he wasn’t complaining as it was nice to have dinner with someone. @paristarters​

Lale was so excited to be finally eating, and it was clear by the way she was not hiding while stuffing the last bit of cheesy mozzarella goodness into her mouth happily. She even does a happy little dance in her seat ; shoulder shimmying to the music in the tiny corner pizzeria. Coming down from the high she had experienced through most of the night more than likely also had an affect on how hungry Lale was. The food stuffed her mouth so widely that her cheeks at no other option but to puff out. Her day was a long one where it started early and ended late. With her mouth still completely full, Lale can only put up an enthusiastic thumb of approval. Wiping off her hands ands mouth of grease with a napkin politely. ❝ I was at an art opening. Hence, why I'm dressed as if I just stepped out of The Matrix, ❞ The brunette gestures to her all-black-everything outfit, aside from the sapphire earrngs she wears with the matching necklace, the pendent hanging from a dainty, silver chain. ❝ How was it at the hospital? ❞ Lale asks after taking a sip of wine that stains soft lips dark cherry. ❝ Did you see anything, like, gory? ❞ Comes the second question right after, and she sounds a little too interested in the details if Tiago had a story.

[zonnesproetje]

every time someone tells me they love me, however casual it may be, it feels like the world comes to a halt for a second . someone Loves me . me ! how wonderful