An eyebrow slightly raised as her default emotionless expression was now plastering across her features, she fixed her gaze at the taller female in front of her.
❝ What ? Do you need me to spell it out for you then ? ❞
she hadn’t meant to snap. eris wasn’t one to make enemies –– no, she much preferred being well-liked and manipulating friendships to suit her needs. and so she schooled her glare into a softer expression, chewing on her bottom lip as she surveyed the damage. looking up from the mess on the floor that was once her drink, she tried to look as contrite as possible.
❝ no, no, sorry–– i didn’t mean to snap, it’s just been a lousy morning. your blouse... ❞ she gestured sheepishly at the coffee stain that had bloomed across the chest of the stranger’s white blouse. ❝ my place is right around the corner, if you want a change of clothes. i’ll get the blouse dry-cleaned for you too. ❞
my sunshine and my source of joy. there are probably a billion ways to begin this letter, but knowing how gay we are for each other, i figured that this would be the cheesiest, most cringeworthy way to start things. i can picture it in my mind already, you yelling at me about how grossed out you are and how embarrassing i am, but i know you love me, so it’s all cool.
and as with all cliches, let me begin with how much i appreciate that you’ve somehow stumbled into my life, and how much you mean to me. no, but really, you are one of my best friends and nothing in the world could ever replace you. we’ve laughed till we cried and cried till we laughed together, and i am truly grateful that things are uncomplicated with you and between us— there is nothing more that i could ask for. because you’re someone that i can trust wholeheartedly, someone that knows me better than i know myself sometimes, someone that makes me really fucking happy.
we’ve been through a lot of hard times together, when neither of us felt like talking, when we found it hard to even smile, let alone laugh. but i’m glad that we’ve— or i’ve, at least— found solace in each other.
although you put up a really tough exterior sometimes, i know you’re actually a huge softie that tends to overthink and overanalyse unintentionally. and i also know that it’s hard to deal with all these thoughts all at once and it gets overwhelming to the point where it starts to feel suffocating. and here’s where i want to step in. i know that i’ve been absent from your life as of late, with both of us busy and real life getting in the way, but i want you to know that i’m always a message away if you ever need someone to listen or simply just someone to laugh with. i’ll always be here for you, and i love you so so so so much. you are far stronger than you think you are, don’t ever forget.
⌠ mutually assured destruction ⌡
any situation or course of action which ensures the total eradication of all parties involved;
an ode to the monster i am.
► ( + kjungsj ) 01. bloodsport, raleigh ritchie. // 02. fourth of july, fall out boy.
✿ -five times my muse almost texted yours, and the one time they did.
i.
the yelling hadn’t ceased, not for awhile at least. with fists clenched and teeth gritted, profanities spewed carelessly from parted lips, eyes round, angry and bloodshot. a fight that none of them had anticipated, one of the few that drove them apart.
“You think something like that would hurt, after all I’ve been through?”, he hisses, teeth bared. there’s hurt that flashes through his dark orbs but it’s gone as soon as it comes, hidden behind a carefully moulded guise, one that’s been shaped for years, walls up and features guarded.
she says nothing, only staring back at him with hard eyes— he swears he sees her falter, barely for a tenth of a second, but it’s something. it’s ignored, forced into the deepest crevices of his mind, forgotten.
with clenched fists, veins protruding and temple throbbing, he leaves, slamming the door behind him. a quiet voice inside his head begs him not to leave, but he does, he has too much pride to stay, even for her.
regret sinks heavy in his chest, but he’s stubborn. it doesn’t stop the fingers that hover over the glass screen of his phone, almost, just almost sending her a text. the backspace is hit as soon as everything’s typed.
ii.
she doesn’t leave his mind, even on the trek home. it’s a long journey, they live far apart but it doesn’t stop them from travelling to visit each other often— it never feels like a chore. but it’s different this time, with guilt and regret weighing heavy on his heart, a lump lodged in the back of his throat, unforgiving. fingers make their way through his already tussled hair, combing through messy tufts as he allows a frustrated sigh to leave his lips. anger is taken out on a rock, one which he kicks down the street almost violently. “she’s clearly the one who’s wrong so why am i feeling like this?”, he mutters to no one in particular— perhaps at the moon, one that seems to shine down on him menacingly, casting a shadow upon his features. the grip on his phone only tightens as he unlocks it to find no messages from her. there’s hesitation, but no action to contact her.
iii.
it engulfs him— the clench of his heart as he rethinks the day’s events, the very knowledge that he had a part in it all, the phone screen that lights up, a message that’s not from her— it pours over him in a thick blanket, he can’t focus on anything else. she’s everywhere, from the inside jokes that have him snickering when someone says “window”, to the colour of the house opposite his— her intense hate of pink. regret washes over him in waves, but pride has him turning his phone off and attempting to turn in.
iv.
it’s awful, waking up knowing that she’s probably gotten as much sleep as he has— close to none— with violet underneath tired eyes, lips chapped and body aching. the thought of her crying herself to sleep has his bottom lip trapped between canines, adam’s apple bobbing— a step closer to picking up the goddamn phone and sending her a text. fingers trembling, a short string of words is typed out. the pad of his thumb ghosts over the backspace button, but at the last second, taps on ‘save as draft’ instead.
v.
weary, the message is opened again only a few seconds later.
it’s not sent.
vi.
a deep sigh pushed forth from unwillingly parted lips, it’s sent.
[ text :: jiae ] Look.. I’m sorry.[ text :: jiae ] Don’t cry, okay?[ text :: jiae ] You deserve more than anyone to be happy.
I hope you've got a well-prepared cool ass party for my birthday. (` she walks past the elder before settling down on the couch and crosses her legs, twirling a few strands of her hair around her finger with a wide, rather cheeky grin plastered across her features. ) Make it happen, unni.
...sure, come on in. [she mutters as the younger girl simply strides past her as she opens the door and makes herself at home; but the sight is endearing, and the expression on her face speaks of fondness and not annoyance as she joins her best friend on the couch, casually throwing her legs over the younger girl] Don’t believe the online articles that call me an ‘it’ girl. You know better than anyone else that I like to stay in my room all day -- my idea of a cool ass party would probably just be you, me and Kieran.
