#ceceliazedler

[evaduartes]

Letter thing 4 Celia

✉: My muse writing a letter to yours, or replying to one your’s sent.

Celia,

You can't tell Mick or Noah about this, I'll never hear the end of it, but I wanted to write you something. I think I'm writing this because I'm too scared to say it, because if I scribble it down you might be able to crumple it up and toss it away and we can pretend that you had never seen it, but if I say it, it'll be there and in front of us and I'm pathetically terrified of scaring you away.

I dunno what Levi's been telling you, but I've been talking to him. Actually, knowing Levi I know damn sure he's mentioned it to you. I worry about you, a damn lot. You're so quiet sometimes, it makes me scared. Everyone's got their demons and I wouldn't be too dumb to think you don't have your own. This isn't going to turn into some lame note about trust falls, I don't think I'd do that to you, besides, you know better.

I want you to smile, more than anything. There's something that hides it away and I want to see you light up so often that your cheeks hurt. If I'm Starboy then you damn well deserve to be a girl that makes the sun jealous, because I want you to glow.

You don't have to share your demons with me and I'd never ask, so long as you're not ready to tell. But I hope that one day they find themselves compatible and entertain one another, because you never should feel lonely either.

I'm being a fuck boy right now I think, but I mean it, all of it. I'll take you to Mexico, I'll take you across the world if you want to go there. Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, so long as you pay me back with even a smirk, I'm ready to come with you.

- Max

[evaduartes]

☤ anderson and lu hi

☤: My muse having to take your to the hospital, reason may vary.

Lucien grimaced, he had his legs tucked up, feet on the seat of the car. Long arms wrapped around them, tugging them close as he pressed his forehead to the denim that stretched taut over his limbs. His hair was pushed back, sweaty, and he decided to forgo the seatbelt— an unwise decision as Anderson slipped into the drivers seat.

“Want me to drive?” He rasped, pale eyes glimpsing up at the blonde, the laugh that followed making him cough and shake his head. “Fuck.” It was just a fever, he’d insisted that he didn’t need to be taken to the hospital, Anderson knew enough about taking care of people anyways. The decision to go to emergency was made earlier in the morning when dry lips cracked and then bled and his temperature was taken and panic struck behind hazel eyes; hidden— but he’d caught it.

His stomach lurched at the other boy’s jerky driving, his mind thrumming as Anderson launched into a monologue about the plague; likely a poor topic given the circumstance, but he managed a smile. It brought comfort to him, to share knowledge, and Lucien shivered in the warmth of the vehicle. A sandpaper voice wrapped smooth around him, “Hey Anderson?”

The blonde paused his speech, sucking in a breath before he looked over at Lucien. The expectant look made him curve his lips wryly, his hand pressed to the cold of the window.

“Tell me something sweet, ‘cause I’m on my death bed and everything.”