Discover Top Posts Tagged with #07|02|21.

LOCATION: Saint’s home in Shoreditch DATE: 07|02|2021. CLOSED: @lookatlaura

It’s late, and Saint was supposed to be back at his home twenty minutes ago. But like with most things, his attention gets soaked up in something else, his mind malleable to whichever atmosphere you’d placed him in. Chameleon hearted, a man that shifts and changes like the phases of the moon, taking on different personas and characteristics to fit the person he’d been with. As he makes his way back to Shoreditch, mind dizzied from a few glasses of wine and dog walking beside him on a slacked leash, he already begins morphing from the sort of Saint that his friend, Kashvi, would want to speak with, to something softer. Palatable and charming, the sort of Saint, ultimately, that someone who had been made to wait alone for more than twenty minutes, being let in by his cousin Zacharias, might actually want to date.

So naturally, upon his arrival, slipping keys into the lock and twisting the door open, he meets Laura with sorry eyes. Dark green hues that do their best to show genuine sorrow, as he slowly moves to take a bouquet of flowers from hiding behind his back and lets Indi off from her lead to roam the house freely. “I’m so sorry, I know we said 8:30 and I’m not going to feed you any excuses. I got back here as quick as I could,” a statement supported in his appearance, pale complexion delicately flushed pink and tawny hair messy and more curled than usual. “Hey,” Saint walks over to the sofa, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on the other’s cheek, a small and moderately intoxicated chuckle falling from his lips before handing the bunch of white peonies to her, “I’ll make it up to you, ok? Whatever you want, you say the word. I have wine, champagne... I don’t know, orange juice if you prefer? Name it.” As Saint pushes himself to stand back up straight, he slips the wool coat from off his arms and throws it to lay over the arm of his sofa, making his way over to the open planned kitchen as he grabs for a half drunken bottle of red wine he’d been begun the night before and pouring himself a glass.

Crimson liquid emptying into the cup, he glances back over to the woman in his living room. Perfectly at home with his doberman happily making her way to accompany Laura at her side. It’s an unusual depiction, particularly for Saint, someone that had spent almost seven months alone. The solitude of a single lifestyle that perpetually felt un-whole, made frail and lessened by the vacancy of his ex. But this he could get used to, or so he’d humour himself with the familiarity of the company whilst it were readily available, or so, he would force a mind that misses someone who only sought to destroy him, and replace it with another. In the hopes that this time, for however brief what was happening between him and Laura would occur, it wouldn’t end in oil spills or raging wars.

#conversations.#c | laura.#07|02|21.

LOCATION: Kashvi’s place DATE: 07|02|2021. CLOSED: @kashvis

‘We should talk’, it’s what the pixels of his phone screen merge to say, a text sent that morning from Kashvi Singh and, in Saint’s mind, undoubtedly encouraged there by Remus. But in the name of humbly obeying the request of his Seraphim, Saint replies swiftly, agreeing to drop by her place that evening to clear the air in the company of dogs and wine. After all, following the phone call shared with his brother a couple of nights ago, a hiss down the line in the dismay that he needed both his best friend and his brother to lay down whatever pitiful argument bloomed between the pair, Saint is left no other option but to oblige. 'I'll be there soon, just bumped into Kitty in the park. Didn't jump me this time but she did make a threat towards Remus, I'll tell you more once I get there', and send.

Once outside the door, he exchanges a glance with the Doberman, Indi who had just witnessed one torturous conversation, still happily wagging her tail with the sort of infectious joy he'd only ever got from animals. Ringing the bell, Saint waits, rolling from heel to toe in the cold February breeze, a sparkling of frost promptly begins to cling to street lights and cars on the road outside that caused his cheeks to flush an almost violent shade of pink. Ringing again, he hears the bark of Kashvi's greyhound from inside, informing her owner of the guest waiting outdoors, until finally, the door swings open and Saint greets the woman with a hesitant smile. Tiredness held in his posture, in the way he can't quite muster his usual boyish grin before parting his lips to greet the other, "Good afternoon," Saint leans forward, as was typical, placing a short kiss on either side of his friend's cheek before entering and letting his dog off of the leash. "Look," he begins the moment she turns back around, shrugging his coat from his shoulders and folding thick wool material to hang over his forearms, "I know that I upset you. I had no right in talking to you the way that I did. We're both Virtues, you're my equal, and it's unfair for me to still act as if my name means anything in terms of ranks. So I'm sorry."

He’d rehearsed it enough times to mean it, to stop himself from grimacing at the admittance of his stature, giving up his proclaimed vigour in the gang in the name of truce. Of peace and unity in a time where their gang couldn’t afford to fall apart from the inside out. “I just get carried away with things, you know. Remus and Juno bossing me around has been driving me crazy for months, but it doesn’t mean that I should have snapped at you,” he nods, green gaze settling oh her own.