#angelescents

[sugatalks]

                                    ' what makes you think this time will be different ? we ended this for a reason . you can't just get lonely at two am and expect me to jump right back in your arms . '

[sugatalks]

                                    ' that dumbass got what was coming to him . he should've known better than to try an' put his hands on you . '

[fadinglights]

continued from here, @angelescents

freddie shows a sheepish smile, thanking the man with a slight bow, the gratitude sincere. “thanks a lot, i really appreciate it.” slowly, he follows his neighbour inside the apartment and his gaze wanders to search for the charger, before he goes ahead and plug his phone in after attempting to dry it with a tissue. “i hope i’m not interrupting much." he says, the sentiment genuine as his gaze returns to his neighbour again, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans as a nervous habit. he isn’t so awkward around people usually, being the bright and sunny barista in a quaint cafe that’s well loved by the locals, but it’s not so often that he’s caught in such a dishevelled state either.

[luckydime]

closed starter for @angelescents because they liked this post !

"i've never had a stalker before, i'm kind of flattered," eli said as he approached the familiar face, cocky grin plastered across his own. "how'd you even get in here? did you fake an emergency or something, pretend to sprain an ankle? that's cute."

[wretchds]

    💌      ˙  ｡  𖦹  °   𝙝𝙚𝙮  @angelescents  …  𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚  𝙜𝙤𝙩  𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙡  !

“i'm  starting  to  think  you  wouldn't  be  you  if  you  weren't  getting  into  fights  with  anyone  you  meet.”  it's  an  observation  steeped  in  adoration,  obvious  in  the  way  the  hand  poised  around  her  waist  grips  her  that  slight  bit  tighter.  “ease  up  a  little,  won't  you,  beautiful  ?  they  were  just  bein'  nice  !”

[wretchds]

    💌      ˙  ｡  𖦹  °   𝙝𝙚𝙮  @angelescents  …  𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚  𝙜𝙤𝙩  𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙡  !

humiliation,  hot  and  red  on  her  cheeks,  has  given  way  to  some  sort  of  damning  numbness,  the  look  on  her  face  devoid  of  any  emotion  that's  stirred  within  her  in  the  last  few  seconds.  she  doesn't  need  to  turn  to  know  it's  poet's  frame  that's  made  its  way  closer  to  where  she  stands  at  the  counter,  but  she  does  anyway,  unfeeling,  stage-ready  smile  playing  at  her  made  up  lips.  “she's  pretty.”  kleya  means  it;  hates  that  she  does.  “i'm  glad  she  enjoyed  cherie's,  it's  a  good  spot.”  she'd  know,  of  course;  she'd  brought  him  there  to  begin  with.  she  likes  to  think  hearing  them  bring  it  up  over  the  red  carpet  didn't  make  her  more  than  a  little  nauseous.