#erealiae

[literare-at-ayarn]

for @erealiae, daniel holloway : starter call.

" i just want to be sure you know that, like . . . " there's a slight shrug of shoulder while twisting her hands ever so little. " i know i don't live here, so if you want space or something. it'd be fine. "

[literare-archive]

@erealiae said : your hair's a mess.

there's only a grunt muffled into the pillow she is curled around. she can handle her alcohol. she do ! she can ! but it was just supposed to be lunch with drinks with summer, sloane, winter and bailey. it however moved onto dinner with drinks and then sitting on the front porch of summer's house for the better part of the evening. how she had gotten home ? that's not a memory she can really collect. definitely not her own doing that she's gotten out of her jeans and shirt, and into some pj's. head lift every so little, eyes squint in the light and stomach lurch at the small movement.     ❝   oh, i'm going to die.   ❞      low mumble as she focus up on cade for only a second or two, a groan pulled from the back of her throat as she relax back into the mattress. ❝   i'm dying.   ❞      a declaration, something she is quickly getting accustomed to actually. would be better than this headache and the last thing on her mind right now has got to be how her hair is looking.

[litearra]

imogen cardulo      ——      ❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜    

leaning against a wall, fingers drumming against his biceps. wonders when @erealiae got ruthless, training with garrick tavis must be paying off - fighting like it was second nature at this point. he misses the innocence, thought he would have to protect her, now it seems more likely that he is the one needing protection. at least if he did not wield the signet he did.     ❝ i just…. i wonder where my little sister went… when you grew up? ❞     no judgment in his voice, simply surprised by the growth spurt she’s been taking lately. or if he’s just been blind altogether.

[literare-archive]

@erealiae

not sure her boyfriends excuse was real, when he said some family emergancy had come up, but she can't blame him. wanting to get away from the death glares coming from across the table, the awkward tension that rippled through the air when any of them spoke. a quick kiss before he leaves, and gaze follow him until he's out the door of the diner, before slowly looking over to cody.     ❝   what the hell was that ?   ❞      hissed out, a scowl upon features before flicking one of the curly fries from her plate at him. really tried to move on from her crush on cody, and she found someone that had caught her attention. at least a little bit. quite liked hanging out with him, and they had a lot of the same interests. it felt like a good connection, a good way to move on, and she really wanted them to get along. it'd have made everything easier. but instead everything marcus had said, it became some sort of competition, or was met with a snide comment. ❝   he's a really great guy, and you were honestly so mean.   ❞

[literare-archive]

@erealiae

she love this man, more than she ever thought possible to love someone. done so, she think, since that first night they talked together. this wonderful boy that made her feel so special. so safe. and these last couple of weeks, ever since his brother started at briar, she couldn't help but hate seeing him so unsure. second guess himself. getting into more fights on the ice. these things, all the tell tale signs that everything wasn't as it used to be. as it should be. would love nothing more than to take it all away if she could. bright blues flicker across the small group, from connor, to levi and finally landing on lucas. perhaps most could differentiate between the two, simply because of the permanent scowl that seems to be upon her boyfriends face these days. at least right now. but there was these little things about him that was different from his twin. a little bulkier. the small scars here and there that she had spent so much time tracing. how he carries himself. these little things she loves about him. walking up to the three of them, passing the other two : arms wrap around his middle, chin resting against his chest, peering up at him.     ❝   hi, baby.   ❞

[literare-archive]

@erealiae + starter call.

he really think there's blood and grime covering every inch of him right now, gun in one hand & sword in other, silently tracking back to where they started out. not sure what happened exactly, feel like an ambush. one that shouldn't have happened. and he lost imogen somewhere along the way. picking up on no sounds, no shoes against pavement, no breath, no heartbeats. nothing. and it strikes him then, how he might not see her again. not alive. it sends his own heart beating too fast, too uncomfortable in his chest. hears it then, the quick tap of feet, the familiar scent beneath everything carnage. turning and shift down another street, closer, closer, closer. and when he see her, there is no stopping the relief. gun holstered at his side & he jogs towards her, taking her in for any obvious injuries, anything amiss.  

[literare-archive]

@erealiae said : if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous.

it earns her a low grunt. because yeah, he's fucking jealous. it's a green eyed monster on top of his shoulders, whispering every way he could lose cassie. and there's quite a few of them. they're finally going somewhere, maybe he thinks at least. she stayed the night & it still feel like all it takes is one wrong word and she'll bolt. some asshole's attention, it feels like a big fucking threat. hates the feeling. feel like poison, straight to the heart, spreading through every limb. hand rub against his chest, small grimace while shaking his head. not used to this. not used to being with just one person, not used to anything serious . . . not used to feeling the urge to punch someone for talking together. air exhales sharply, gaze following until he is out of view & only then does he look back to her.     ❝   yeah well . . . maybe i am.   ❞      low grumble, small shrug of shoulder. and it fucking sucks, because he has really no right to feeling this way.

[literare-at-ayarn]

for @erealiae, dean forester : starter call.

she wasn't one to dress up. ever. hell, she prefered the worn jeans and simple tank top over anything else. some dirt under her nails, horse hair sticking to her clothes, hair in a simple ponytail. it felt like the most natural thing. letting quinn curl her hair so it lay in soft waves over her shoulders, and put her one of her white sundresses before the festival felt odd. kept her cowboy boots on tho. cleaned them up a bit before leaving the house. supposed to wait for her best friend, and going down to the stables of course felt like the right thing. she'll suffer quinn's wrath if she got dirt on her dress before even getting to the festival. standing by one of the boxes of her favorite horse at the barn, keeping a slight distance, not leaning against the door as she usually would. " hi, buddy, " a soft murmur while hand lay flat against the stallion's head, a rare soft smile tugging at the corner of lips as he nod his head against her hand. pushing in closer. head turn and dark gaze land on dean when he rounds the corner, shifting a little on her feet. if she didn't know better, she'd categorize it as nerves bunching up in the pit of her stomach. been biting his head off every time they had interacted lately. and she couldn't really say why. not like he'd really done her anything. maybe somewhat a olive branch she reach out as she turn more towards him, arms loosely cross over lower abdomen. " you're not going to the festival ? thought quinn made everyone go, "