Send me a symbol: ✎ ♥ ☯ ☠ ★ (Noah)
✎: For an unsent letter from my muse (May be AU if you want, just let me know what kind of AU you want).
Dear Noah, I hate you. I hate how you make me feel even though we’re so far apart. You’re the best parts of me and I hate you for taking them away. I hate that you ended things and I hate how desperately in love with you I still am. It has been five months since the day you tore my heart out and it still hurts. Why? You didn’t even say goodbye! Who does that? Who does that Noah? I’m not over you and I hate it. I hate myself for loving you and I hate you for loving me back. How can you expect me to move on and be happy when you’re the only thing I want? Did you ever consider what I wanted? Did you ever stop and think that you were being selfish? I honestly don’t even know why I’m writing this– I’m not good with words and it just makes me want to tear it all up and cry; clutching onto a stupid photo of us, but what’s the use? I mean it’s not like you care anymore right?
♥: The favorites of my muse, you’re allowed to specify what you want.
Coffee Dates.Romantic Comedies.Noah Justice for Innocents(I wasn’t sure what to do for this one)
☯: Here, have a hug from my muse.
Jumping up and down at the great news about her father’s health Rosalie couldn’t contain herself. She was becoming to think for the worse when she got the phone call from his physician, but with news that the chemo was in fact working just fine she was through the roof even if it wasn’t guaranteed to stay working she was just glad her dad was getting better a little bit at a time. Turning quickly as she placed the phone on the hook to see the familiar statue of Noah she flung herself at him. Wrapping her arms around his waist she squeezed tightly, her face against his chest and she could smell him and he almost hadn’t changed. Her head was spinning from the familiar sense and good news that she didn’t realize how long she had been hugging him before she removed herself to tell him the news.
☠: Your muse has died, this is how mine reacts.
Rosalie is dressed in a very old T-shirt that forever was stained by grease and smelled of gasoline with a hint of him. She hadn’t said his name in what felt like years, but could have been hours. The sprightly female was nowhere to be seen as she curled up in a bed that wasn’t her’s, but his breathing him in and she hadn’t left the room for days as she couldn’t find the strength to even bathe much less go out in public. Her diet was liquor and maybe some stale crackers, but she didn’t care how it could effect her own body all she wanted to was to be numb. To forget the past week to ignore the pity looks she had received at the funeral, the suffocating hugs. She wasn’t herself. She was a ghost that floated around a dark room clutching onto a pillow and sobbing, the always hanging question of why floating in the tension of the room as she passed out into a drunken slumber before waking up and repeating.
★: The stars are shining beautifully and my muse wants you to see them.
“Come on Noah! You’re going to love it and I don’t care how cold it is.” Rosalie exaggerated her bottom lip jutting out in a pout as she gazed up at the older male tugging at his forearm. “Stars are pretty and I know they’re always there, but I’ve missed them just– Please? Just for like five minutes and then you can go back in they’re just so pretty tonight and you need to see them,” Even bringing her shoulders up to her ears in a shrug. “Who knows maybe you’ll get some inspiration for a novel.”
