crash and burn, you're not alone

Multi-muse blog for Nyxzie threads

[nyxziewrites]

nyxziereplies:

FIRST IMPRESSIONS ARE EVERYTHING / JACK, ALEXANDRA & MARK

Alexandra couldn’t help but frown when he obviously zoned out of the conversation, and if he hadn’t have been Mark’s friend then she wouldn’t have hesitated in saying something to him.  She might not have wanted to be here either, but she was making effort to at least pay attention, and she knew that she had no right or reason to be irritated with the way he drifted off so easily. Was she boring him? “I don’t think any seventeen year old has luck.” she commented with a more forced smile then she had before, and Mark squeezed her waist with a laugh. “Nah, I did babe.” he interjected, as she merely rolled her eyes playfully and bumped her hip against his, her expression clearly not believing him for one second.

Mark was clearly unbothered by his friends lack of interest in the conversation, too wrapped up in the fact that his best friend was finally meeting the girl he wanted to marry, the girl whom had no idea that at this very moment an engagement ring was sitting in a secret spot in the apartment he was in, hidden from her eyes whenever she pried herself away from her dorm to come visit him, spend the night. He was just waiting for the perfect moment, a few months away when she graduated, to ask her to marry him. She was the one, as corny as that sounded, he knew it. When Jack said that he should go, that he couldn’t stay, Mark’s brows knitted together as his mouth opened in protest. “You just got here–” he began, eyes locking on Jacks as he leant towards Alexandra.

Alex was surprised at being addressed, leaning forward a little to hear what Jack had to say before a small smile curved her lips. “A marine with no navigation skills, that’s a recipe for disaster isn’t it?” she asked with a chuckle, wondering whether the sudden playfulness was real or not, compared to how distant he had been before. Was it her? From the way Mark spoke, it sounded like it was something she did, at least that was how she felt. She didn’t protest when he said he had to leave though, and elbowed Mark to shut him up. “It was nice to meet you Jack.” she replied gently, waiting for the man to take his leave as Mark reached to say goodbye to his friend. 

He hadn’t intended to leave the party so early, and in fact his announcement that he couldn’t stay had surprised even himself. But as soon as the words had blurted from his mouth, they felt right, and he knew it was the right call to make. The look on their faces was to be expected, open-faced disappointment on Mark’s and a furrowed brow on Alexandra’s. He could only wonder what she must think of him.  

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and the words were the sincerest that he’d uttered all night. He was sorry that he was a million miles away, sorry that he couldn’t rally a smile and just let himself go for the night, sorry that this had to be the way he met his best friend’s future wife-- something that they had been talking about for years. The timing was just unfortunate, and he couldn’t stay. He tried for a touch of joviality as he explained in half-truths. “I may not have a girlfriend but I do have a very important woman in my life, and I promised my mother I’d come over tonight.” 

His excuses delivered, he reached out and clasped Mark in a hug, clapping him on the back as he did so. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, before pulling back to look his friend in the face. “Don’t get lost on the way home,” he smiled softly. Letting him go, he turned once more to Alexandra. “It was great to finally meet you, I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon. Enjoy the rest of the party,” he nodded, smiling as he reached out to shake her hand again. With his goodbyes said, he nodded at the couple once more, before turning on his heel to weave his way through the crowd to the door. He was certain Mark and Alex would quickly find other company; he himself felt lighter with every step out towards the door, though it wasn’t enough to offset his heavy heart.

[nyxziewrites]

nyxziereplies:

I ONLY LOVE IT WHEN YOU TOUCH ME | NATE & CASS

Another shift down, and a little bit more of his dignity gone with every dollar bill shoved at him and in his sparkly costumes. Each time he entered that club, each time he gyrated in some desperate woman’s face he told himself it would be the last, that he didn’t exactly need this lifestyle or to do what he did. But, the next night without fail, he’d be in there again doing the same thing. He didn’t know why he did, he didn’t need money, his parents money kept him in the lifestyle he’d grown up accustomed to and they had no idea of his drinking habits being more then a social custom of his. He kept out of their lives and they kept out of his, for the most part. His little sister hadn’t exactly got the message, and he strolled down the street towards his apartment deleting the missed calls and wiping his screen clear of messages from her. All the same, call me, why aren’t you picking up, mom & dad are worried, luke’s looking for you.

The last one did have him laughing, Lukas being in a worse state then he was and given the fact he was Liv’s twin brother, Nate felt her attention should be more focused on the wreck their brother was not himself. Least he knew he was a piece of shit, Luke still felt he had no problem. As he turned another corner he tugged a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shaking the packet so that one began to stick out and placed it between his lips as he used his thumb to scroll through contacts for a distraction. He almost skipped past the redhead from the club, not that he didn’t find her fun, but more the fact he didn’t go back twice in one week. He liked to keep a couple of weeks of more between visits, partly to make it clear it would be no more then that, but also so that they didn’t see him regularly enough to deduce how often he was drunk, or how rarely was he sober.

But he couldn’t deny Cass was different, not in a oh shit, I’m feeling things different, but a distraction for longer then normal, kind of way. So, with that he pressed dial and held the phone to his ear, half expecting the woman not to pick up. When Cass answered he smiled a little, not answering right away as he balanced his cell between his shoulder and ear, tilting his head to keep it in place as he lit the cigarette. Taking a long puff, it wasn’t until he exhaled that he responded, coming to lean against the nearby wall. “I didn’t plan on calling.” he replied honestly, sober he could lie a bit more proficiently, as he was now he stood now chance. “You free tonight?”

When he admitted that he had had no intention of calling her, Cass took no offense at the words. At least he was honest. If she was honest, she hadn’t been sure she would ever call him again either. In fact, she hadn’t even saved his number in her phone. He had been fun, but in her experience, confident men like that could be a one-trick pony. And she wasn’t in the business of being disappointed; better to cut her losses while she was still ahead. Reaching her room, she closed the door behind her and dropped onto her bed onto her stomach, still holding the phone to her ear as she lay propped up by the elbows.

Was she free? “You’re in luck,” she replied slowly, turning over the decision in her mind. “I might be. Depending on what you had in mind,” she added as an afterthought, her smirk bleeding into her voice. Of course, to some extent she’d agreed to meet up with him the second she’d decided to answer her phone rather than send it to voicemail, but it was better to make him work for it. Just a little bit.

[nyxmuses]

before the storm | kat & shep

[nyxziewrites]

nyxziereplies:

Kathryn mock gasped when she heard another dreaded nickname stem from his lips and she turned the faux scandalised look on her best friend before her palm connected with the man’s shoulder once more. “You did not just call me that, that’s it I’m giving her your number too.” she was back at her cell phone once more, fingers rapidly moving across the touch screen with an ease that only the youth could possess as she quickly responded with Shep’s ‘other’ number for when she failed with Sloan - clumsy her really, Shep and Sloan were pretty close in her address book she just mistakenly sent the wrong one. She wouldn’t actually send his number, even for revenge, so petrified by the mere thought of Shep getting a girlfriend and forgetting her that she would honestly do anything she could to make it so that he wouldn’t. Kat never said she was a good person now, did she? 

“Actually, I wouldn’t call it hate, as we both know I never have it in me to hate–” another lie, Kathryn threw herself into everything with such a passionate manner, she loved wholeheartedly, hated with a fury that would make even the most heartless fear for the safety of the person she hated, but she would never admit to having it in her to hate someone so much. “But, in tenth grade she did make out with Matthew Henderson at that thing, the stupid party his sister was throwing remember? Anyway, she made out with Matthew Henderson despite him being there with me and then had the audacity to say it was because he’d already slept with me and was bored. Need I remind you that contrary to popular belief, tenth grade me was a virgin.” she huffed a little, still holding a grudge for something that happened going on a decade ago, but no one said the Andretti’s didn’t hold grudges, that was what her family were known for of course. 

She hated that look on his face when he spoke about breaking a leg, and hated herself even more for being the asshole that put it there. “Shep..” she began weakly though she knew it was pointless, she knew that any argument was stupid. He was right, she knew that, but she also knew that saying no to Gio was asking for trouble. She’d never done that before. She also knew that Gio wouldn’t believe her phone went dead, he knew her too well and it was an unspoken rule in their family to have their phones on them at all time, you never knew when you would be needed. You were constantly ‘on call’ as such. “Shep you know I can’t say no… he’ll kill me.”

He laughed easily, the sound neither forced, the way it was around coworkers, or subdued. This was the way it always was around Kat. He took the blow to his shoulder in stride, neither stopping his step or in his laughter, and instead made only the slightest dramatic wounded face. As she continued, however, his face changed from wounded to something akin to horror. “That would be one hell of a three way date,” he remarked as he imagined sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant across from Audrey Matthews and Sloan Andretti. He was 99% sure Kat was kidding in her threats, but if she weren’t, he supposed he had to prepare to have to let Audrey down gently...

As she prattled on about their high school years, deflecting from what she didn’t want to talk about, Shep had to shake his head. “Glad to hear we’ve grown up and are no longer holding onto grudges from high school,” he pointedly praised her, his voice filled with obvious sarcasm. “I don’t even remember half the people from high school, let alone enough to hate them.” It was a half truth. There were certainly people who still stood out in Shep’s mind-- friends, neutral acquaintances, and of course those he didn’t like-- but for the most part, his most vivid memories of high school were of Kat. They may have run in very different social circles, but their friendship had bridged even the chasms of the high school social scene. 

Just as it had thus far survived their very different outlooks on crime. As her face fell, he knew he hadn’t succeeded in keeping his voice or his face as neutral as he’d wanted to; somewhere his disapproval had bled through, and here she was, begging him to understand. He stopped walking and caught her by the elbow. “I know,” he sighed, looking at her in a way that he hoped reassured her. He wasn’t happy with her racing, but mostly he wasn’t happy with her family for putting her in that kind of danger; or for making her look so afraid of them. Despite the fact that he felt grimy from work, he tugged her toward him and pulled her into a hug. “I know,” he repeated into her hair. “You don’t have to explain yourself. Not to me.” 

[nyxziewrites]

nyxziereplies:

A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME / RAE & VIV

Despite everything, it felt good to offload on Viv. Sure she had her brothers, but they had their own shit and they weren’t a girl, sometimes she needed a girl to vent it out to. She loved the boys more then anything, loved being one of them and one of the Outsiders. But sometimes, sometimes she just needed to be a normal teenage girl and rant about these things, even if there were no problems to be solved. If she told Trevor, he would go after ‘Just call me Brad’ and pummel the man to the brink of death, further cementing her mom’s already low opinion of her older brother.

“She hit the fuckin’ roof, said it’s my fault for not gettin’ into college because I spend too much time at ‘that bar’.” she replied, imitating Miranda’s wannabe posh voice. True, she spent a lot of time there even before she left school, and being barely out of high school and working in a bar wasn’t ideal but what other choice did she have? She looked up at Viviane when she mentioned her occupation. “Better then Miranda, ‘I live off multiple divorces’, Diablo.” she replied, arching an eyebrow in response. It showed what kind of woman Miranda was when Raven had more respect for her friend then her mother, at least Viviane was working to go beyond what she did. Miranda made no effort to do so, living off what she knew how and in the most hypocritical way possible. It sickened Raven.

“Yeah, well it’s life. I guess. I don’t know why I even bothered applying anyway.” she replied, dejection dominating her body as she sagged deeper into the cushions. “There’s gotta be ways of this fuckin’ island I mean, Sabrina fuckin’ did it. Why can’t we?” she sighed then, leaning back and resting her head on the back of the couch, before turning her head towards Viviane with a smirk. “I could, but I mean, my laptop would be a different story…” she replied with a chuckle, before a question came to mind. “Where would you go, Viv? If you could.”

Although Raven’s words were laced with bitterness about her mother, Viviane had to laugh at the sentiment. “I don’t know, I’ve always thought there was something glamorous about being a high-profile divorcée...You know just marry old rich men and bleed em dry for all they’re worth... Or I guess if that took too long, just be a black widow,” she continued with a conspiratorial wink at her friend as she gathered up her red hair in her hands in an elegant bun at the nape of her neck. Without a hair tie, however, the hair fell back down as soon as she dropped her hands again. “I feel you though, my mother was remarried before the ink was dry on her name-change paperwork...” It was a sore subject for both of them, mothers. “They just don’t understand the concept of working for things in your life, wherever it takes.” 

Viviane shook her head sharply and leveled Raven with a look just as sharp. “That’s not true and you know it. You could run fucking circles around anyone. Reapply for the spring semester. Or else... or else I’ll file the paperwork for you,” she promised. Viviane had made many, many mistakes in her life, but allowing Raven to give up out of self-pity would not be one of them. It was strange, the protectiveness she felt for the other girl-- she who had prided herself on keeping to herself-- but at times like these Raven felt like a sister to her, and her only lifeline in the world. “Told you, you’re way too plugged in,” she laughed, smirking victoriously at getting a smile out of her. 

The question gave her pause. She stared at the curtains for a few moments more, thinking, before finally looking back at her friend and shrugging halfheartedly. “I don’t know anymore. California I guess. Somewhere busy, with lots of people, none of who know a damn thing about me. And warm. I’d like it to be warm.” She trailed off a moment, not adding in that California was a little ruined now that her father was there, before continuing with an edge to her voice. “It’ll never happen though.” 

[nyxziewrites]

nyxziereplies:

EYE FUCKING AT THE BAR / AUSTIN & MARINA 

Austin’s smirk increased as he kept his attention on the blonde, waiting for that moment when she looked up at him and realised who’d bought her the drink. It had been a bold move on his part, he wasn’t the kind of man to buy a girl a drink like this, he had always seen it in movies and television shows and often scoffed at the behaviour, like it was realistic. It was cheesy and he was usually better then that. Maybe it was Vegas. It never happened like that in real life, yet here he was, being an idiot for a pair of legs and sending her a drink. Austin’s smirk graduated into a smile as he caught sight of the blonde’s smile as she drank it, about to get up and walk over to see if he’d actually been successful or just conned out of a drink when he saw who he presumed was a friend of the girls and he stopped in his tracks.

Well that was that, presuming the blonde would go off with her friend he was about to pass it off as something that wouldn’t have gone anywhere anyway, she would’ve just laughed at the gesture maybe. Took his drink, called him a fool and wandered off to enjoy the rest of her night with her friends. He wouldn’t blame her. When the other girl soon wandered off his resolve to get up and talk to her strengthened and he stood up, grabbing his beer as he moved along to stand beside the blonde. Propping himself by an elbow on the bar, he kept his eyes focused on hers as he briefly thought about his opening.

He wasn’t the kind of guy to use a cheesy pick up line, beyond the drink, he didn’t use lines, cheesy or perverse comments. He kept it simple, always the gentleman or the charmer, it always worked for him and his track record with women proved it. He felt she was different, like she would roll her eyes at whatever line he could try and muster or another and he found himself wanting to pull out more then any usual things that he would use on a girl, more direct, forward maybe. “I’m Austin,” he began simply, smile more genuine as he extended a hand.

It worked like clockwork. No sooner had Jenna moved on than Marina cast her eyes back to the man at the end of the bar-- only to find him gone. Before confusion, or even disappointment, could set in, there was movement beside her and a male figure appeared at her elbow. She turned to look at the man leaning against the bar beside her to find his eyes already locked on hers, and she smiled, pleased. Marina made a mental note-- not for the first time this weekend-- to thank Cassie the next time she saw her for the fab advice. 

There was a moment of silence while she wondered what he was going to say. Something profound? Cheesy pickup line? She herself loved a good pick up line when it was said by someone attractive. Anyone else and she would roll her eyes and mock him endlessly back with her friends, but with a face like that... he could get away with saying just about anything to her. When he did speak, his words were simple, but his voice had a little lilt to it, a familiar tug at her heartstrings to her origins. He was Southern... but she wouldn’t hold that against him just yet. “Marina,” she returned equally simply, reaching out and putting one perfectly manicured hand in his own. Her own voice, while flirty, was stripped of any of it’s natural Southern accent; she’d worked hard throughout the years to get rid of it and any trace of where she’d grown up.

“So what brings you to Vegas?” she asked, conversationally. As she spoke, she turned in her chair in his direction, her knees just inches away from brushing up against his side. She was proud of her legs; might as well give him a better look. 

[nyxmuses]

eye fucking at a bar | marina & austin

@kenziecarrion​

Go to Vegas, meet the investors, make the deal, come home. 

His instructions had been simple but he hadn’t expected his flight home to be cancelled, and he managed a quick text message to his sister before he decided to at least have a few drinks to pass the time. He was missing his vineyard, his home, his dog. He was aching for the peace and quiet that his property provided, away from the bright lights, the hustle and noise of Vegas and everything that it entailed. He admitted, when he first got there it was interesting to watch, he’d been stood in awe by the sheer beauty of it, a lost country boy in a big city, but now he was forced to stay here, the novelty was wearing thin. 

As he sat at the bar, nursing another beer he was preoccupied by his gripes about the airline that had cancelled, staring at the moisture pooling on the bar as if it were the most offensive thing on earth, when his cellphone pulled him out of his thoughts. Looking down at the number, he smiled softly at the sight of his sisters’ name appearing on the screen. “Charlie.” he greeted with obvious affection, and he lifted his gaze up as his sister began to fill him in on the goings on at her university, yet it also meant he finally looked up from his drink and caught sight of the blonde perched on the other end of the bar. 

Stunning eyes, a body that he was subtly checking out as his sister continued to talk in his ear, and as he tilted his head to the side as if cracking his neck he couldn’t help but smirk as he noted long legs stretching beneath the bar. “Charlie, darlin’ I gotta go. I’ll be home soon. Yeah, love you too.” he hung up on his sister, smirking at the blonde briefly before he beckoned to the bartender, “’Scuse me, can you do me a favour? Put one of whatever she’s drinkin’ on m’tab and send it to her?” he asked, leaning against the bar and drinking his beer as he watched the bartender go up to the blonde, “..courtesy of the gentleman at the end of the bar, ma’am.” 

[nyxziewrites]

Marina was used to people buying her drinks. In fact, it was a commodity in which she and her friends traded in for social standing, and a contest she prided herself on winning. She’d gotten 6 this weekend alone, with Jenna close behind at 5, Veronica, Chelsea, and Lauren all tied with 4, and so on and so on. Not that they were keeping score, of course. But everyone knew that Heather didn’t count; it was unanimously agreed on that her Bride-to-Be sash gave her an unfair advantage.  

Fourteen girls on a bachelorette party in Vegas– it was the most cliche of setups and she had loved every minute of the long weekend. The whole city was alive with color and sound: the bright marquees lining the streets, the faux Eiffel Tower all lit up in gold, the flashing lights of the casino games, the shuffling of cards, the counting of chips, the sirens of slot machines– all mixing with the pulse of music and the clinking of glasses. They had drowned themselves in liquor and debauchery, giggling that ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ all the while. But now their party weekend was nearing its end; tomorrow the girls would split up and travel back to their separate states and separate lives, their college days of living minutes from each other a distant memory. They’d decided to pick a little more classy of an establishment for their last hurrah, taking advantage of the opportunity to wear their little black dresses, and gain any last minute points in their totally-not-a-contest contest.

And here was drink number 7, solidifying Marina’s lead. She took the martini from the bartender with a small smirk of victory cast towards Jenna, who was a little further down the bar, and paused for a moment before looking around. It was important to remember what Cass had taught her: this was a dance– there was power in a man sending over a drink, but there was also power in a woman making him wait for her thanks or even just for acknowledgement. Pause, one….two… On three she cast her gaze about the room in the direction which the bartender had indicated, and found herself eye to eye with the man at the end of the bar. She’d noticed him before– they all had, he was classically handsome– but he had been broodingly staring at his drink all night, and hadn’t seemed interested in anyone else. Until now when she supposed he’d found something better to look at. She smiled her thanks, casting her eyes down to the drink demurely, before picking it up and locking eyes with him again as she took a sip. Suddenly there was movement behind her.

“Oh my god Rina, he’s totally cute,” Jenna scream-shouted in her ear. Marina turned and smiled at her friend without teeth, her eyes clearly stating ’get out of here’. Jenna took the hint and half-walked, half-danced away, and Marina was left alone again– in case the 'gentleman at the end of the bar’ wanted to do more than send her drinks from afar.

[nyxmuses]

before the storm | kat & shep

[nyxziewrites]

nyxmuses:

“No you shouldn’t, Stephen–” she replied, bumping him with her hip as she gave him a half hearted glare. Of course, any anger she felt was false and gone within seconds, she never remained angry at Shep for long. It was impossible to, he was too important to her, the most she’d gone was a day, which she still to this day called the worst twenty four hours or her life. He was the constant in her life, the only good most days, given that Sloan was back in town once more and her brothers on edge over some stupid rival trying to cross over into the Andretti ‘turf’, something Kat had no interest in involving herself with. She needed Shep, she couldn’t lose him. 

She hated it though, when Shep realised what was going on without her even talking about her father, and that he had realised immediately what messages were awaiting her. Gio demanding she raced meant that if she didn’t, she’d be in the shit and the chances of her escaping it unscathed were unlikely. Whether her punishment for not showing would be at the hands of her father or her brothers she had no idea, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out. She closed out of Gio’s message, ignoring Shep’s question in favour of returning to the subject of Aubrey.

“Y’know Tommy-with-an-H got nothin’ on you Shep,” she replied teasingly, before sighing softly. “It’s you or Oliver, she had the biggest crush on him in tenth grade and whilst I’m pretty sure he and Sloan are off again, I’m not goin’ there with that. I saw her tryin’ t’paw all over him at Bernie’s the other night, and he basically flat out rejected her in front of everyone.” she smirked at the thought of Sloan rejected and humiliated whilst Oliver walked away. He deserved better and she deserved nothing, it was fitting. “Oooh what if I send her Sloan’s number instead?” she replied, already thinking on how Sloan would react even as she typed the familiar number into the response to Aubrey along with a he’s just dying to go out with you A! as still still skirted around the answer about her Dad. 

Finally, she knew he wouldn’t wait much longer. Looking up at him from beneath her lashes, she tried to pass it off as if it were nothing, arrogant smirk still in place as she shrugged. “I don’t have a choice, it’s only against that Ambrosi kid and he’s shit. It’ll be over in thirty.” she replied, looking at him hopefully.

He winced as she threw his first name out there. "Okay, okay, point taken," he laughed. "No nicknames in the company of others. Though to be fair it always could have been worse, right Pretty Kitty?" As he spoke, he reached out and snaked an arm around her, catching her as she bounced away from bumping her hip against his, and pulling her back to his side playfully. He didn't hold onto her for too long though; even after all this time, he was always embarrassed by how much he smelled like kitchen grease at the end of one of his shifts, so as quickly as he'd grabbed her, he let her go. 

It was clear as Kat babbled on that she was ignoring his questions. He let her chatter swirl around him, not commenting on her sister Sloan's relationship with her on-again-off-again conman. Only when Kat announced her grand idea and started furiously typing did he reply, with a sarcastically mumbled "I had no idea you hated Audrey Matthews so much." He didn’t know Sloan on a personal level, in fact he actively tried to avoid most of the problematic members of Kat’s family, but he knew the woman would rip Audrey Matthews apart and eat her for breakfast. He might have been amused by Kat’s prank antics-- if it wasn't so clear it was all a front. 

Finally she looked up at him, and confirmed what he already knew. You do have a choice: don't go, he wanted to say. Come home with me, we'll sneak in past my parents together, and you can pretend your phone was dead and you never saw the message. But he'd uttered the words before, and they'd never changed the outcome. Kat's father called, Kat went; it was as simple as that. Any resistance he put up would either upset her, or cause them to fight. And he was too tired to fight about Gio Andretti again tonight. "Good luck," he said instead, shrugging in a way he hoped came across as neutral. "Or break a leg, whatever you say to you NASCAR drivers.” His attempts at humor fell flat and he tucked his hands in his pockets. "I'll probably be passed out by the time you're done, but you can still come over if you want. You know where the window is."

[nyxziewrites]

first impressions are everything|| Jack & Alexandra

[nyxziewrites]

nyxmuses:

A chuckle parted Alexandra’s lips as she watched the two friends interact, watching the friend she’d heard so much about and trying to see as much as she could. She wanted to compare him with the image of Jack built up in her mind. Also, part of her wanted to see the man he toured with, and had potential to tour with more - to see if Mark had the right kind of man at her back. The downside of dating a marine was the constant nagging worry at the back of his mind when he did a tour that he wouldn’t come home, that one day she’d get that phone call that would tell her that Mark was gone. If she was even deigned worthy to get a phone call, it wasn’t like they were married yet, despite their numerous conversations about it. 

When the mention of his inability to keep anything quiet was hinted at, Mark held his hands up in surrender, “You should both take it as a compliment.” he told them, as Alex narrowed her gaze at him, though it was obvious by how she looked at him she wasn’t in the slightest bit angry. She was crazy about him, and him her, it was obvious just in how they looked at each other and how they gravitated towards each other without even realising what they did. She didn’t mind his telling stories about her, part of her was glad that he was thinking of her, but she was confused by the look she caught on Jack’s face and immediately it brought a frown to her features. She corrected it a moment later when she caught Mark looking at her, and brought a smile to his lips that had him wrapping his arm around her and pressing his lips to her head. “I had to try, home for a little while between college exams so.” she shrugged a little, “Visiting Mark and seeing my sisters, it’s all I need.” she replied with a sweet smile, causing Mark to grin at Jack. “She’s great, isn’t she?” he asked, though he didn’t need an answer. 

Alexander however, blushed and nudged him. “Shut up,” she muttered, before turning to Jack. “So, do you have a girlfriend, or partner Jack?”

As the laughter at Mark's inability to keep anything secret swirled around him, Jack found himself fading out. As much as he was happy to be around his friend again--after four years of spending almost every moment together, even a week apart felt like a lot-- he was struck by how much he did not want to be here at this moment. When Alexandra turned the conversation back on him, however, he snapped back to attention. "Me? No, not at the moment. But who knows, maybe I'll have better luck now than I did at seventeen," he smiled sheepishly.   

He definitely had never been in love the way the couple in front of him clearly was. He knew Mark was the overly sentimental type; hell he'd spent four years with the man, listening to him tell every story about how he and Alexandra had met over and over again. But there was something different about watching the two in person, with their hands all over each other. He was glad to see his friend so happy, but that was definitely something they'd get made fun of all night for by the other marines from their unit, even those who also had a woman on their arm. 

Later he'd use that as a joking excuse for why he'd left early. 'I had to, you two were nauseating me.' But the truth was his mother's words still echoed in the back of his head, and it was hard to focus on anything else. 

"I actually can't stay, I just came to show my face and to make sure you made it here okay." At the second part, he reached out and punched Mark's shoulder playfully. "The man can't navigate to save his life," he offered conspiratorially to Alexandra. "You being here makes sense as to why he made it at all." The jovial words felt fake in his mouth, but he did his best to muster up a convincing smile.

[nyxziewrites]

nyxmuses:

“I think it’s a prerequisite to be a New Yorker.” he replied with a laugh, one of his favourite things to do when waiting for meetings was people watch and the people of New York always made it so fascinatingly easy. There was always the business men rushing to their meetings, or if later in the night the girls in tight dresses staggering and clutching at each other as they made their way to their night of drunken dancing in clubs and bad decisions. It was all too fascinating, and often he liked to sit there sketching away when someone wasn’t looking. “Must scuttle around and rush to my next destination, it’s meaningless and pointless but I must get there now.” he muttered, as if one of them. “Where are you from ?” he asked, not sure if he actually asked her before, though given their last conversation had revolved around his bad pick up line and art.

“Of course,” he replied, the statement holding little to no arrogance given he didn’t think much of himself as an artist per se. He never got the chance to do his own work, he was always imitating others for Sloan and her father’s own benefit that he lost some of the joy he got from working. Her question had him hesitating briefly, though he hid it will as he tried to figure out how to explain the arrangement he had with the Andretti’s without giving away too much, but also without telling Doll anything that could incriminate her down the line. Not that he was expecting her to be a part of his life that way, he wasn’t expecting anything of her in general, but he knew that he was liking her more then he initially planned on, there was something so fascinating about her. “Uh, I report to someone and she gets the jobs.” he replied, “She gets them from a mix of both, NEA and the museums, private jobs.” he finished and took a sip of his water. 

He had to think on what museum job she was referring to, remembering how they met and exactly why he was there in the first place. “Oh, yeah.” he replied with a shrug, having been there to meet with Sloan though he had spent the entire ‘meeting’ irritated with her randomly appearing in New York and demanding that he do another job for her. He was pretty cornered in now, he didn’t see that there was a way out of it without Sloan doing something so drastic. “It uh, should be a simple restoration. I doubt it’ll take long though, but I gotta go personally deliver it to them apparantly.”

She snorted at his impression of a New Yorker. "Yes, clearly the world is going to end if you don’t get there right now. It's nice to talk to another outsider, it reaffirms that this behavior isn't normal," she laughed, shaking her head. "Oh me, I'm from Santa Monica-- right outside of LA. So pretty much the exact direct opposite coast of here. And yes, I know what you're thinking," she continued before he could. "Yes I am a California girl who ordered a California turkey panini-- what can I say I am a walking stereotype." As if to punctuate her admittance, Doll held up her hands in an open-palmed shrug. 

As she listened to his answer about how he came about commissions, Doll was struck by the feeling that she hadn't really learned anything new from him that she hadn't already known. His answer was vague and didn't really answer her questions, but she figured it wasn't wasn't worth pressing. It wasn't her career so it wasn't anything she really needed to worry about; besides the question had only been small talk anyway. He could keep the nitty gritty details to himself if he wanted to. 

When he continued, however, mentioning that he had to bring his next commission in person, she made a face. "Sounds like the snooty art type. They probably want it to be hand delivered to ensure no middle man gets any dirt on it." Doll rolled her eyes. "You know the help can be so unreliable these days," she continued conspiratorially, adopting a WASPy New England accent. Dropping back to normal, she shook her head again. "Museum curators can be so pretentious, like clearly if this is your job you know what you're doing," she offered in a mater-of-fact tone. "Which piece is it?" she added, trying to remember all the ones she'd seen while they had been there. Granted she’d been a little distracted...

The waitress came back with their drinks and Doll thanked her automatically before picking up her beer. "Well, cheers. To art, and making new friends," she toasted jokingly, before tipping the bottle back and taking a sip.

[nyxmuses]

drunken mistakes | Garrett & Viv

[nyxziewrites]

nyxmuses:

His heart, apparantly he still had one, sunk ever so slightly when she couldn’t meet his gaze and he wondered if they’d ever be able to move completely past it, and whether it would always be something that hung over their friendship like a persistent dark cloud. He huffed slightly and continued to make the drinks that he desired, “Well, moving on…” he muttered, almost bitterly as he moved again with the same abrupt manner that his father had, a sharp turn on his heels and moving towards Viviane as he handed her the drink.

When she knocked back the drink, he tilted his head as he studied her movement, a smirk finally curving his lips. He was at least impressed by the way she could knock back the drinks as well as he could, he always had time for people who could keep up with his drinking, they were too far and few between for him to be truly choosy. 

His eyes drifted down to her rapidly shortening skirt and he groaned internally, his resolve non existent most of the time, now when on his second bottle of whiskey it was completely gone. He sat down with no further invitation needed, “Never,” he replied smoothly, arm resting along the back of the couch behind her head and bringing the bottle to his lips again.  “You’re too tempting, Viv. You know that?”

There was a gleam of appreciation in his grin as she returned the now empty glass to the table in front of her, and Viv raised an eyebrow in return, almost as if to say 'are you surprised?' Her lifestyle was surrounded by alcohol, pouring and serving it to the patrons who were thirsty in more ways than one, and drinking it in order to get through another shift in that shithole of a place. It had given her a tolerance that was much more than most girls of her stature; though she was sure it still had nothing on Garrett's. 

Viviane smirked victoriously as he dropped down on the couch beside her. That hadn't been hard at all. In one moment the look in his eye had changed from whatever she'd seen before, to one touched by lust. Perfect. Lust she knew how to work with. He'd settled closely next to her, and the way he draped his arm across the back of the pillows caused her body to fall directly against his as he weighed down the cushion beneath them both: hipbone to hipbone, her shoulder against the side of his chest. It wasn't a disagreeable position to be in, but Viv always preferred to be a little more in control. She shifted, curling a little more towards him so that she could be sitting sideways enough to lean her elbow on the back of the couch, just above where he had his arm. She let her hand fall onto his arm, brushing just against his shoulder. Her position now gave her more balance, allowing her to reach out with her free hand and take the whiskey bottle from him, and bring it to her own lips. 

Whiskey was always rough going down but maybe thats why she liked it, taking a large swig before passing the bottle back. In response to his words, she smiled coyly. "I try," she tossed her hair, straightening her back in a way that made her chest stand out more. With her now free hand, she reached out and touched his chest, skimming her palm and fingers against the thin fabric of his shirt as she leaned in towards him. She stopped when her lips hovered just below his ear, at his jawbone, "That's why you called me, isn't it?" she purred, her voice soft. "Instead of Anna, Amanda, Heather, Becky." Between each name she dipped her head down and placed kisses along the column of his throat. When she was finished listing all his other options, and teasing him, she lifted her face to be even with his. "You called me, because I'm 'too tempting'. And because I'm so much more fun," she grinned, taking her hand off his chest and stealing the bottle of whisky from him to drink again.

[nyxziewrites]

nyxmuses:

He mockingly clutched his chest, just over his heart as if heartbroken that she hadn’t picked up his hometown, “I’m offended truly, I haven’t quite got the true New Yorker status yet. I moved here officially, just a few weeks ago. But on and off for a couple of years now.” he supplied, though that had always been on Sloan’s orders really, given the access he could get to some pretty amazing art work to study and copy. “I couldn’t quite handle being a true New Yorker though, I mean, have you seen them? They’re like a breed of it’s own, it’s incredible.” he found New York and it’s inhabitants quite fascinating in all honesty, often losing track of time just people watching and trying to study all the different behaviours and movements. He’d never admitted that out loud though. 

The mention of the Mona Lisa had him smiling, “Nah I did that years ago.” he replied shrugging as if it were a joke and no big deal. He’d copied it, once. A near perfect replica that had been busted in it’s final stages, but thankfully by the time they connected it back to him he was long gone, with the proof they’d had destroyed before they could take it to the authorities. Such close call had him desperate to get out, though he wouldn’t for nearly eighteen months after that incident. “No, this was a simple, easy job. Nothing famous.” he replied as if it mattered, and part of him scolded himself for giving away more detail for what had essentially been a lie, he would have to remember more details and knew that he was setting himself up to fail.  Calm it with the lies Oliver, you idiot. 

He nodded approvingly as she ordered a beer, though thought better of making a comment that he was glad she didn’t seem to be the type to order some fruity cocktail. Given how their recent conversations had gone, it would end up with her coming back at him with such perfectly witty retorts he’d only end up embarrassing himself further. “Corona, please and I’ll have the steak, medium, please.” he replied, having already glimpsed the menu whilst he’d been waiting. He leant back in his chair as he politely waited for Doll to order, already having forgotten the waitress was even there. 

She couldn’t help but laugh at Oliver’s theatrics. “All right all right I get it, I suck,” she agreed with a smile. “Wow so pretty recent-- Well welcome to the neighborhood. I moved here myself almost a year ago, and let me tell you it never gets easier.” Despite her harsh words, Doll didn’t hate New York, she just found the people way too Type A for her liking. Almost as if reading her mind, Oliver echoed a similar sentiment and Doll felt the wide grin split across her face. “I know! Car and I joke about it all the time-- they’re like ants, always scurrying around from one place to the next,” she laughed, leaning in conspiratorially and dropping her voice as she spoke, lest she insult any of the people around them. “It’s like-- relax guys, breathe in, breathe out, you’re stressing even ME out.” Laughing she leaned back against the cool metal back of the chair. “Makes me a little homesick for simpler times.” 

Doll took another drink of her water as she listened to Oliver talk about his work. “Of course-- I should have guessed an artist like you would have been asked to do the da Vinci’s years ago,” she parried, her tone as light as his. “So who is it that commissions you to do restorations? Is it someone through the NEA or the museums themselves or...?” 

As she read the menu, half of Doll’s attention was listening to Oliver order; after all, she’d met plenty of guys who were charming on the surface but treated service employees like shit. To his credit, his tone was pleasant, and she found herself relieved. Oliver was a puzzle to her. She couldn’t figure him out, with his smooth lines and chivalrous gestures but sheepish smiles, ordering expensive steak and cheap beer in the same breath. But at least he wasn’t rude, so she supposed she could stick around to learn the rest. In the silence that followed, Doll realized they were both waiting for her, and after giving the menu one more glance-over she picked up her head to talk to the waitress. “Can I just get the California turkey panini? Thanks,” she smiled politely, handing her menu back to the woman and turning to look at her companion once more. Of course he was already looking at her, she chuckled to herself. “So... did you end up getting that job at the museum?”

[nyxmuses]

drunken mistakes | Garrett & Viv

[nyxziewrites]

nyxmuses:

“Of course, he’s cheap in some aspects but James Hunt never skimps on booze,” given his father’s history with the red head he hesitated for only the briefest of moments when he mentioned the man, casting her a look before quickly returning back to what he was doing as if he had never spoken. “It is, might as well enjoy it though, yes?” he replied, forcing a smile to his lips that didn’t quite reach his glazed over baby blues and he turned abruptly on his heels to toward the couch as if he didn’t speak in the first place. 

He poured her a glass though forewent one of his own, the sharp reminder of WHY he had needed to get drunk in the first place having made the idea of getting and drinking from a glass almost impossible. Especially if he wanted to get drunk quicker then normal, which he obviously did by the way his head tilted back and he tried to down as much of the liquid as possible, not quite answering her question. To him, it wasn’t a celebration, more of a desperate attempt to just forget, and to try and enjoy the night for what it was, a simple, James free, drama free (he hoped) night where he didn’t have to deal with Charles, or with some sorority girl on his doorstep trying to make him into something he wasn’t. 

“We, my darling, ma chérie, my sweet and beautiful Viviane, are celebrating being young, free and single and not giving a plain old fuck. Enough reason?”

Something was wrong. Don’t ask her how she knew-- on the surface Garrett was the same as he often appeared to people: carefree, a bit bitter, happy to drink for the sake of drinking to be drunk. But there was an edge to his voice, or maybe a look in his eye, that told her this wasn’t just a carefree night of drinking. As if to confirm her thoughts, Garrett suddenly mentioned his father, and when he glanced back at her, she couldn’t meet his eye, casting her gaze to the floor. That was something that would always hang between them, and while things had been better lately, she knew he would never truly forgive her for that. She would probably never really forgive herself. When he turned back to making drinks, she tried to shake off the knot of discomfort in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t have to ask me to take advantage of good liquor,” was all she returned, with a shake of her curled red hair.

From her perch on the couch, she watched him mixing her drink, while drinking from the bottle himself. If Viviane was a better person, she might have asked him what was wrong. But she was never one that was good with emotional support. She was too selfish, too closed up herself, and she always found it hard to know what to say to make another person feel better. She didn’t spill her secrets to others, and she didn’t ask them to tell her theirs. That was probably why Garrett had called her in the first place. So when you can’t change them...join them. 

Curling her lips into a smile that showed her teeth, she reached out to take the drink from him. “I’ll certainly drink to that.” To match her words, she tipped the glass back and took a large swallow, feeling the liquor burn the back of her throat. Returning the glass to her lap, she cocked her head and patted the open spot on his couch beside her. “Don’t let me drink alone.” As a subtle incentive, she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, making her already short skirt appear even shorter, and took another swallow of the alcohol. 

[destroyedmusings]

stop and start over; Kendall & Oliver

[nyxmuses]

nyxziewrites:

She couldn’t help the urge to smile at the look on Oliver’s face when she talked about Carson; men could be so transparent in their jealousy sometimes. It was something Doll never understood, but she managed to keep the grin off her face the best she could. “He is, yeah,” she nodded, agreeing with his assessment that Carson was a good friend for following her out to New York. “I really didn’t expect him to say yes, I was lucky I guess.” She shrugged, letting the subject drop; she wasn’t the type to dangle mentions of other boys in front of Oliver just to make him jealous, her mentions of Carson were just as much as they needed to be. Doll glanced ahead of her to make sure she didn’t bump into anyone as they neared a more crowded section of the gallery, before turning back to look at him with new interest in her eye when he mentioned already having multiple tattoos. The artist in her was instantly curious about what they were, but she didn’t want to seem invasive or pushy. “Yeah? Me too,” was all she said in reply, choosing not to reveal too much about her own ink either. Conversations for another time, she supposed.

Turning back once more to look in front of her, she suddenly realized that the reason this part of the gallery was so crowded was that it was the end of the gallery, and the beginning of the gift shop; they’d come full circle already. Suddenly Doll didn’t know what to say next. Turning back to Oliver, she shrugged in a ‘that’s that’ gesture. “I guess that’s the whole place,” she stated, though that much had been obvious. “Well,” she continued after a moment’s pause, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “I guess I should be getting back. This was my little break from work… But it was really cool meeting you, Oliver,” she continued, giving him a true smile. “It’s not often that I find another person interested in art– you know, aside from in my classes. We should get coffee sometime,” she suggested. “ You could tell me more about your work…” Doll trailed off, waiting to see if he’d agree. Their whole conversation had started with him boldly admitting wanting to get to know her, but for all she knew, he could’ve lost interest by now.

He had to stop being jealous about the best friend, he barely met this girl. Then again, as he told himself, he was merely trying to ascertain whether he was hitting on a taken girl to save himself the trouble. Not that boyfriends had even stopped Oliver beforehand, “Good to know, wouldn’t want to find out there’s a boyfriend or something.” he replied candidly, before he realised they were at the end of the museum, not that he had paid particular attention to the pieces, and he noted that they’d passed the piece he had come to study so he could replicate without him even registering. “Huh, what do you know…” he mused with a grin, rubbing a hand across his chin with a roguish grin. 

“I should, probably get in there for my interview.” he admitted, the interview probably being nothing more then an Andretti wanting him to do ‘one last job’ despite his attempts at getting them and their toxic sister from his life, and starting fresh. When she suggested coffee, he smiled, glad that she wasn’t entirely uninterested as he pulled the gas receipt that he had used to try and talk to her in the first place and pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and scribbled down his number. He merely handed it over wordlessly and winked, backing away as he made his way back into the museum. 

[nyxziewrites]

only love it when you touch me || Nate and Cass

It was a night later in the week when her phone rang. It took her a moment of staring at her phone to recognize the number, which she hadn’t saved to her contacts. It wasn’t as if she had forgotten or not enjoyed the occurrences of the other night—they had been more fun than she’d had in a while. But in Cass’s experience, ‘I’ll call you’ was as empty a platitude as ‘I love you’ or any other, and she wouldn't have taken it personally if she’d never heard from him again. There were plenty of one night stands she’d never called back. Of course not all of them had actually involved standing, or an alleyway for that matter…

Her identification of the mystery number must have shown on her face, because her brother spoke up from the other end of the table.

“Which one?” Casper asked, not needing to specify what he meant as the phone continued to silently ring.

“The stripper from the club.”

“Words that always foreshadow a healthy relationship,” he returned in a deadpan, not looking up from the sketchpad in front of him. Cass only laughed, completely unashamed as she scooped the phone off the table and turned towards her room. On the last ring she picked up—it was good to make them wait.

“Hey there babe,” she greeted, turning on the purr in her voice. After all, with the time of night it was, there could only be one reason he was calling. “I didn’t know if I’d be hearing from you again.”

@nyxmuses

[gorgossiumwrites]

Hard At Work || Nate and Cassandra

[nyxmuses]

kenziecarrionrp:

It was a thrill– his lips against hers. After all the buildup, the eye contact during his set and the suggestive conversation at her table, finally she had her hands on him. Cass had never been very good at waiting. She pressed herself up against him, shifting her lips in order to part them further as she gripped his hair with the hand still behind his head. As he ran his hands along her curves, she grinned against his lips, knowing he’d be pleased with what he found. Humility was also something she’d never been any good at. 

Cass dropped her lips to his neck and began kissing her way down the column of his throat, looking for sensitive spots to tease him with. This certainly hadn’t been the way she’d foreseen the night going, but now she only hoped he wasn’t about to chicken out on her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had sex in public places but she was pretty sure it would be the first time in an alleyway. It felt dirty and wild and she loved it. Pulling away, she leaned back against the bricks and cocked an eyebrow at him, in a smirking look that said ‘you want to?’.

Even as his fingertips danced up and down her sides he was amazed by what a pleasant turn his night was taking, already clearly lost in the redhead and her magic lips to remember he was supposed to be working, and he’d be lying if the thought of the money he was losing didn’t cross his mind just briefly before he pushed the thought from his mind as his fingers began to dig lightly into her hips as he deepened the kiss. 

When she moved to his neck he bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from moaning out loud as she worked her way down, leaning back against the rough brick with a chuckle as she looked up at him. Instead of answering, he switched their positions, pressing her against the wall with one hand pressed flat against her hip whilst the other moved to her thigh, fingers trailing up her thigh as he moved his hand upwards over her skin.

[nyxmuses]

a house is not a home || raven&viv

[nyxziewrites]

nyxmuses:

As she entered the apartment she pulled her cell from her pocket and opened it to see what messages she’d had since she had last checked it; the usual crap of people sending her tips for the site being at the forefront and despite her bad mood she couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of some of them. 

Whilst she was known for sometimes fabricating evidence of some of the elite’s night outs, with the aid of photoshop of course for ‘validity’, even she wouldn’t stoop to the ridiculous even if it was plausible that Shelby had gotten frozen to an ice sculpture by the tongue when she was licking a part she shouldn’t have been. Photos or it didn’t happen. “I just didn’t want to deal with Trev.” she muttered again, though she’d made it obvious why big brother wouldn’t be the one to go to with this stuff, she felt bad bothering her brother with mother issues, when she was only doing what Mom’s did. 

As if thinking of her summoned her presence, her mother’s name appeared on the screen, calling her for what had to be the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. Shutting the device off, she flopped down on the nearby couch. 

At Viviane’s questions however, she exhaled softly, almost too dramatically for her own liking. “Normal teenage stuff?” she asked hopefully, planning to enjoy every last moment of her teens until her rapidly approaching twentieth birthday, some might enjoy it, she however was dreading it. Especially now she still had no college prospects and two shitty jobs behind her, with a lack of support or understanding from her Ivy League educated mother. 

“Same old. Brad wants to be ‘pals’–” she began, her disgust for the man her mother married obvious as she used her fingers to punctate the pals in her words. “Which I suppose could’ve been valid once upon a time since he’s only three years older then me but then he decided to go and tell my mother I’m working in a bar.” she sighed, leaning back against the cushions. “I’m just sick of being there, she hates the time I spend with my brothers. Hates that I didn’t get into college, which was apparantly all Jack’s fault, because losing a father so young is traumatizing.” 

She shook her head a few times, done talking at least for the moment. She leant forward to rest her elbows on her knees as she thought to all the times Miranda had found some way to blame Raven’s ‘failures’ on her brothers influence, or on the fact that Jack took his own life at a young age, or some other way that made it look like Miranda was parent of the year instead of some uninterested, absentee mother who thought her daughter should be seen and not heard. “I just want to get out of this town, and just… disappear…y’know?” she stated quietly, after a good minutes silence. “It’s stupid I know.” stupid alright, stupid to think getting away from this town was even an option for you girl.

Finally, she dropped her gaze. “I should just go lay low at the cabin for a few days, she can never remember where that is, and no phone signal.” she muttered, eyeing the phone in her lap like it was about to bite her. 

After the door was closed, Viviane wordlessly turned and moved towards the living room area, knowing her friend would follow. The majority of the apartment had been designed by her roommate, whose terrible décor had been established long before Viviane had moved in, and the living space was the worst example of it. The TV was a pretty damn good size, but it was offset by the brightly colored paintings on the walls, and the sheer number of useless vases with fake flowers sprouting up cheerfully. The couches were covered in an annoying array of expensive decorative pillows, which Viv pushed onto the floor before collapsing down on the corner, leaning back against the armrest so she could see her friend better. 

For the most part, she remained silent as Rae spoke, letting her get everything off her chest. She only interjected with the occasional quip, such as ‘Normal teenage stuff, what’s that like?’ and ‘Gross,’ when she mentioned her mother’s boyfriend trying to befriend her, pushing her own experiences with stepfathers from her mind. She sat up a little straighter after that. “Wait, he told your mom about the bar? Shit, how’d she take it?” Viv fell silent again, never sure what to say when Raven brought up her dad. Partially because she couldn’t remember what Rae had told her and what she’d just heard through the rumor mill, and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. But also because-- what the hell was there to say? Instead she tossed her hair as she rolled her eyes, putting herself on her friend’s side above all else. “Yeah well your mom is a piece of work too. Tell her she should count herself lucky, you could be much worse. Like…a prostitute,” she suggested, a self-depreciating smile on her lips. 

But the moment passed and the joking grin faded. “It’s still complete and utter bullshit you didn’t get accepted. You’re so much smarter than most of the people who did get in—sure as hell smarter than me.” It felt like the elephant in the room: that Viviane was currently in her first year at college and Raven had been rejected. Even bringing it up at all felt uncomfortable; she still didn’t know how she’d gotten into school and Raven hadn’t. Especially since she was much older than the typical student. She could only hope Rae didn't resent her for it… At the talk of leaving Walterton, Viv looked away, towards the window. Frilly belted curtains and venetian blinds blocked any actual view, but she looked instead at the brightness of the light that fought its way into the room. “It’s not stupid,” she said finally, without turning back. How many times had she had the same thought? “I used to feel the same way. Now I think I just got used to being stuck…” she shrugged, turning back to face her friend. “Please, you’d go crazy after half an hour of no cell service,” she snorted, trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

[nyxziewrites]

nyxmuses:

Despite himself, he found his lips breaking into a wide smile as he saw her, standing up a little straighter as he moved to pull back her chair for her (a move his mother would be so proud of) before she actually slid into the chair without his help and he lowered himself without missing a beat. As he listened to her excuse, it was obvious by his expression that he wasn’t in the slightest bit bothered by the delay in her arrival, the dorky quip that all good things were worth waiting for at the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t quite voice it just yet. She already probably thought he had more cheesy lines then was humanly possible, he didn’t want to make that worse.

He chuckled a little, leaning back in his chair and shrugging a little, “I’m from Chicago, I’m offended by that statement.” he defended poorly the grin was giving him away too much, though he remembered that he’d given her little about himself to go off during their first meeting, an intentional move given he hadn’t really thought of her as more then a conquest until he realised that Doll wasn’t exactly a girl that allowed herself to be just that. Even as the revelation of his hometown left his lips, he didn’t regret it, an easy smile still present as he shook off her apology with a wave of his hand before it moved to signal the waiter, “Don’t worry about it, I had a work call to finish anyway,” he replied, though Kat’s phone call had more been a warning that Sloan was on the hunt - he’d managed to bite down the comment that he knew as much, the million text messages bombarding his phone had told him so. He’d appreciated her foresight to give him a heads up though, and told her to get her ass to New York as quick as she could, always having liked the youngest Andretti - she wasn’t like her family. 

“Did you want a drink first?” he asked as the waitress made her way over and waited to take their drink orders, “I mean, it’s after twelve.” he supplied, as if that mattered.

It was only once he had sat down again, that Doll realized he had probably stood to pull her chair out for her. Whoops. That type of formal gesture was one she was unused to-- clearly, as she’d brutishly thrown herself down in her own chair. At least he didn’t seem too annoyed that she was late. “Oops, sorry,” she laughed, pulling a face as he corrected her. “I wouldn’t know a Chicago accent from a New York one, shows how much I know. And I know even less about the customs in Chicago, are your people fashionably late too?”

As she got comfortable, she reached out and took one of the complimentary glasses of water the waiter had already poured for them, taking a sip as she caught her breath. She hadn’t run over, per se, but she’d walked very quickly, and she didn’t want to appear too winded. After placing the glass back on the table, she absentmindedly played with the straw between her fingertips as he mentioned a work call. “Oh yeah? They commissioning you to restore the Mona Lisa yet?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the waitress approaching table and realized she hadn’t even glanced at the menu yet. Luckily her choice was made easier by Oliver’s suggestion. “Does that matter?” she laughed when he justified the excuse of getting a drink so early in the afternoon. “Sure, I’ll just have a beer, whatever IPA you have.” That last part was directed at the waitress, who had arrived at their table, with a polite smile and a nod. After glancing across the table for half a second to signal it was his turn, Doll finally picked up the menu as she listened to Oliver order.