heliotrope & marigold !
𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖊 : 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ?
* with a prestigious education of having barely passed year twelve under dubious means, roarke is of the expert opinion that there’s no way normal human behavior can explain his mother coming within even a five kilometer radius of papa kincaid, so there must be some kind of fateful force between a pending trainwreck like THAT. so, yeah, soulmates are hundo-p legit.
𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖔𝖑𝖉 : 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 ? 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ?
like it’s his fuckin’ job. he might be suffering from an incurable case of emotional promiscuity, but he’d rather die than lose his hard-earned title as a cliche. roarke likes to get all art heaux fake deep about it, turning to his nearly-mummified lyric journal to scribble down something the antithesis of profound. he tends to handle it well until, of course, that deadly threshold between that casual sixth and downright lethal seventh tequila sunrise is crossed. that’s right around when his auditions for the next season of bad girls club tend to begin.