Carrying around four extra cupcakes, Jason sashayed through the deserted hallways being in elated mood. He honestly didn’t have any reasoning to why he was so ecstatic but he thought that maybe since he had extra deserts, he should share them with at least someone. His eyes darted for a target, and to his luck, he was quite surprised on the person he found. Finding himself in abeyance, he didn’t know if he should even head to the the male direction but what the hell, might as well.
“Well, we meet again.” His lips curve into his infamous smirk, before waving around the cupcakes between the space in front of them. “Want some?”
[ sms: emrys ] good morning, emrys! i hope you have a good day today!
Send ✉ for a text that wasn’t sent
[ sms: emrys ] you’re really cute and i wanna touch your butt.
Send ☎ for a rushed text
[ sms: emrys ] please hurry by my dorm with food this is an emergency (not really but please come)
Send ☏ for a loving text
[ sms: emrys ] i dont really know u like that but i lava u ok ????[ sms: emrys ] well ill love u if ur nice to me[ sms: emrys ] pls be nice to me.
Send ⁇ for a drunk text
[ sms: emrys ] duuUUUuuUuuude[ sms: emrys ] tell me why i saw a monkey walking down the hall[ sms: emrys ] lol monkeys are sO HAIRy wtf
Send ø for a late night text
[ sms: emrys ] hey, are you awake?[ sms: emrys ] i want to talk to you about why the sky is blue[ sms: emrys ] actually, nevermind. i hope you’re sleeping.[ sms: emrys ] nOT THAT I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU. but it’s late.
Send ✘ for a hateful text
[ sms: emrys ] hoW CAN YOU EAT PUDDING AND NOT SHARE WITH ME??
[ text ] i can pull anything off, but i highly doubt it fits
[ text ] might fit you, though.
[ text ] why don’t you take it? i don’t know who ordered it but either way…
[ text ] can i see a picture, pls?
[ text ] i wanna see how the dress looks before i actually decide if i want it or not
6. Our muses are destined to be each other’s eternalrebounds.
You think that maybe he’ll stay this time, but he’s asethereal as smoke and incidentally it’s what brought you two together in thefirst place. It should be laughable, you think, a villain and a prince, and he’salways been annoying before that but he seems to find his words when death isbetween his teeth.
You think that maybe this time, he’d stop telling you to notfall in love with him when you should be telling him the same thing. Except younever realised how cold his eyes were, winter behind warm smiles like he’salways trying to make it feel like autumn, crisp and not as chilly as he wantsyou to think he is. You’ve always had fire in your eyes and you used to loveautumn because everything feels like it’s dying in the most beautiful way.
(And he isbeautiful, you begrudgingly admit.)
When he leaves you don’t ask for him back.
He’s too much lightand brightness, but you never would’ve thought that he could love so well inthe dark.
You have Perriane, who keeps you busy, and you have otherduties, too, which mainly involve rejecting any offers of alliances withrun-of-the-mill villains (they always lose, you’ve observed) and instead tryingto be a firm leader (you’ve been called a tyrant once or twice; it doesn’tmatter because they don’t understand).
You move on, too, in your own way, but no one does quite asgood and thorough a job as him, whoyou see almost daily in the news, praised by the masses. Hate against this man ispractically taboo.
But they don’t know when he comes back to you again.
You tell him that this should be the last time. You’rekings, now, in your own right, and you’ve been at this longer than he has. He’sjust a child, you think, but there’s wisdom in the things he says and you’venoticed that he’s no longer the stuttering boy who rescued a puppy from astorm. (He still blushes, and oh,does he blush.)
There are two things that always bring him back to you: a)he wants a distraction, or b) dating a hero isn’t always sunshine and rainbowsand vomit-inducing happy endings.
This doesn’t mean you don’t come to him when you feel likeit, but at least you’re consistent with how you use him: dating and sleepingaround with like-minded assholes isn’t quite as thrilling as fucking someoneyou’re not supposed to. And maybe he thinks the same, but you’re only togetherwhen you’re both pretending to be human. (Because being as perfect as StevenWhite must be some inhumane feat.)
He grows older, more handsome, and he’s stronger, and youdon’t know how that works, but you’re not complaining, either – not when he’smade you scream into sheets that feel like they’re going to scream back fromthe way you hold onto them. Not when he’s caressing your cheek one moment and allowinghis fingers to dig into them the next, making you watch the way he enjoysfucking you. And he does – God, he does– and you have never been religious but you think he might make you, if hestayed a little bit longer.
But cigarette smoke isn’t supposed to stay in your lungs andthe both of you exhale just as quickly.
They call him the snow prince and there’s something oddlyfitting about how he only seems like he’d stay.
He’s always gone by the morning, and you’ve stopped countingdown the seconds until he returns.
With his inherent need for personal space and his habit of avoiding social interaction, Emrys had planned out his seat for the entire year for each of his classes, making sure he always got to the classroom first (or at least was within the first five students in the room) to claim his seat. So when he had arrived for his fourth period class, he wasn’t expecting another person in his seat.
“Hey,” he huffed, kicking the leg of the chair, “my sea–oh. Oh. You’re that dog rescuer, aren’t you? Didn’t know we were classmates. But that’s besides the point. Get out of my seat. Now.”
To say that his dedication to both academic and extracurricular activities was exhausting would be an understatement. Half the time he didn't know whether he should focus on the fencing scholarship or the dance team or his swimming (which, he thought, was better than the rest), or any other clubs he chose to join. His carefully-structured weekly schedule was repetitive and tedious and as tiring as it could get, and when he could, he slept.
This just happened to be one of those moments, when the teacher was late, and he simply sat in the first seat he deemed to be a nice spot, head falling promptly against the arms crossed over the desk. So when his seat was disturbed he jolted awake, not wanting to appear like a lazy student, and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes (as if that could help). "O-oh..." It took a while for him to realise who it was, and when he did, he scrambled off his seat, turning an interesting shade of crimson at being caught unawares and vulnerable. "I -- oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't -- I didn't mean to...ah...I'm sorry if I offended you!"
He scrunches his nose and looks at the boy curiously. He doesn’t ever recall cheating, or even being in a relationship (he really should know that). “What’re you talking about, Em? Cheating, I’ve never-- oh.” He’s talking about that cheating. He gives a hearty laugh and pats Emrys’ back, ignoring the small frown given upon contact. “You kiddin’ me? I’d never cheat off your assignments, yeah sure, other classes, but not advanced writing.” He grins, seemingly proud of who knows what. “I’m actually passing that class.”
