#callcolette

[rock4justice]

Vintage #UPTOWN #Condo close to BART, Freeways, nightlife, coffee, restaurants, Lake Merritt. #CallColette ☎️ 510.326.1119 - CalDRE#01704863 (at Oakland, California)

[dimitriisms-blog]

♘ [When she was like 5 and he was 18], ♛, ♢, ♥, ♦ - All from Nicolette [Attack me with those Sibling Feels™ basically]

♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort 

       “listen up, little one,” he says, smiling down at colette’s small figure wrapped in his arms. “one day, you’re going to achieve great things, and become a great person – with or without dad’s permission.” he mutters darkly, but still he brings her close, their ‘secret hideout’ still ever intact as he lets her nuzzle against his chest. “and whenever you’ll need me – i swear to god, kiddo. you’ll have me.”

♛: Sharing a dessert

          “did you just– take that last piece without looking?” he stares down at the empty tray of chocolate chip cookies, dumbfounded, before the outline of a small smirk graces his lips. “that’s the last time i ever share something with you, idiot; you’re so going to pay for that.”

♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

          “don’t let dad know i was here, okay?” arms full with art textbooks, the young man rushes down the steps, his little sister trailing behind him. “he’ll think i’ll want to start coming back regularly – which is literally the furthest thing from what i want, really. could you get that?” door now open, dimitri rushes out onto the front porch and down the steps – but not before giving colette a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “you’re the best, kiddo; love you lots!” he exclaims with a laugh, waving goodbye as he hurriedly begins to walk back to his car.

♥: Your muse crying about something

          arms are quick to wrap around the girl’s now fragile-looking frame as anger boils inside her. “was it jaxson?” he questions, “was it dad?” silence envelopes them for a moment, the shuddering of the teary-eyed girl breaking dimitri’s heart bit by bit, piece by piece. “tell me who did this to you.” he’s whispering, stroking her hair and trying to keep calm though he’s close to seeing red. “tell me who’s to blame, and they’ll be sorry they ever even considered hurting you.”

♦: Slow dancing

           “i can’t believe i’m learning this from you.” he bemoans, half jokingly, as he’s swaying to the rhythm in time, his arms both on colette’s frame. he figures, though – if he were to learn dance, it was best he learn it from his own sister. he chuckles, wrapping colette in his arms as they remain in time to the music, his head resting on hers as he smiles, and he sees her return the expression. winking down at her, “love ‘ya, sissy.” he says, and even in his joking tone – he’s sure colette knows he means it.