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“Weddings have a way of inspiring hope, don’t they? They make us believe in the power of love. Maybe that's just my own corny mantra, I don't know. I think It's cool to see two people that are willing to dedicate their lives to one another. Enough with me being gushy though, I promise I'm done. How has your night been? I feel like I had to come over and talk to you." @ashtcnirwinx
Delilah paced the space of their – no, her, loft. Even if Ashton still had the lease on it with her; it fully belonged to her as of now. Not for much longer, but it was her only piece of space that would be tainted by him all over again. She already had to deal with the painful day-by-day memories he left behind after their one fight. It had been months, but only recently was she able to toss some of his tings out in an attempt to move on Only, she was a fool whom quickly rushed out and scattered his things back inside. A lovesick fool.
With a mixture of a loud sigh and a groan, she smashed her clenched fist to the brick walling that loomed by her side. Not enough to hurt herself, of course. She wasn’t nearly that self-destructive anymore. Angered, yes. Bitter, yes. Hurt, yes. But was she going to grovel? No. He’d stay for awhile and things would go right back to normal, she was sure of it. Clenching her jaw, she dropped her arm to her side and swiveled around to face the door that he’d be heading through with out no time. She actually wondered if he still had a key or if he’d have to knock and let himself in like a friend... or worse, a stranger. He felt like the latter.
Walking over to the door, she unlocked it from the top and made her way towards the kitchen. She’d come off casual. There was no way she was waiting for him or wanting to see his face as he strode into what they both owned. So, she focused on making herself some black coffee; because, honestly, this was the next best thing compared to getting absolutely trashed... and she wasn’t about to let him see her in such shape after all this time.
Roman was- well. Huffy and stressed and he wanted to cuddle up with someone. So he went to the only person who he knew he could count on- Ashton. The other male had been there for him through basically everything bad in his life, as far as living in America was concerned- through Chance leaving, and then Figsey leaving. So he was the obvious choice now that they’d both come back and pretty thoroughly hurt him. “Open up!” he whined slightly, unable to help himself as he knocked at the other male’s door quickly, not letting up as he held a bag of croissants in his other hand. They were his favorites to eat whenever he was upset. @ashtonxsamuel
Christmas 2015
“Merry Christmas everyone,” Owen laughed, rubbing his eyes as he held up his glass of eggnog. He’d spent probably more than a few hours the night running a few last minute errands, and making sure the presents were arranged perfectly underneath the tree- after all, Santa didn’t make mistakes and Dexter did still, in fact, believe in Santa. He’d even drank the glass of milk, incredibly grateful that he’d convinced the boy that Santa would appreciate chocolate milk more than plain. “Do you want to open your presents now, or breakfast first? I’m cooking today- one of the many gifts to my fiance being that I’m handling the cooking. I promise to try not to kill you.”
@chasity-brunswick @luca-berinut @ctrl-ashton
