#romance.

[filtheopathic]

wearing his jersey to his game just so you can flash him in it

[novaonline]

You Had Me At “Miami”

Chris sturniolo X new girl

Fluff!

Summary: A girl named Aurora moved around her whole life due to her parents work, now recently moving from Miami to Boston for the school year. Due to traveling she’s never been able to stay in a stable relationship. Now being in Boston for her sophomore year, she meets Chris Sturniolo. An air headed, cocky, arrogant, jock. The kind of guy who normally would never turn Auroras head but he somehow does. As their paths start to cross more she has to figure out if he’s just a mistake or the reason why she’ll finally find a place to belong.

Part 1: “Miami huh?”

You’ve moved around basically your whole life, from one city to the next due to your parents line of work. You were well off and it was worth, it but sometimes you wished you could just stay in one place. Often having to leave your friends and relationships behind.

You want to experience real teenage love, you’ve been so close to it every time and it ends up getting taken from you. Felix, Alan, Elijah, the list goes on and on. Now you’re in Boston Massachusetts, it’s your first day of your 10th grade year in high school.

You walk to school getting into the building and finding your classes. You read the sheet of your first period in your head. “First period Mrs liner, that shouldn’t be hard to find.” You aimlessly walk around the halls until you find the class and take your seat.

In front of you is a boy who looks around the same age as you. Tall, longish brown hair, blue eyed. Kinda attractive but you brush it off thinking, “No Aurora, it’s too early, it’s the first day of school to start finding someone cute.”

As the class starts Mrs Liner taps her freshly clicked pen on the table, making groups of kids stop talking to look up at her. “Ahem, welcome to your first day back to school students.” Some of the kids roll their eyes and keep whispering with their friends about their next classes. The teacher follows up by saying, “let’s start with introductions shall we?” She sits down on her rolling chair gesturing to the kids in the first row to introduce themselves.

The first person to introduce themselves was a girl named lilac longish dark pink hair that you can tell has been dyed over well over to many times. Lots of piercings in her face and bold makeup. She starts by saying, “Back in this hell hole again, if you don’t know me I’m lilac.” The teacher rolls her eyes and gestures to the other kids till the list reaches the boy in front of you.

He stands up scratching his neck fluffing up his hair in the back of his head. He starts with, “Hi.. I’m Chris Sturniolo…16… I play football and I uhm am ready for football season to start.” He sits down quickly after that. Normally you’d just roll your eyes at a guy like that, just your average meat head jock right? Only football and one thing they want from girls on their mind right? Well you should be thinking that, but something about Chris alludes you to think he’s more than just that.

The list of kids slowly gets down to you and it’s your turn to stand up and introduce yourself. You feel the nerves coursing through your veins as you stand up and introduce yourself. “hi, I’m Aurora I moved from Miami to Boston and I’m excited to see what the school year brings!” You sit down quickly, god why did you have to make that sound so nerdy?

Chris turns around at you giving you a cocky grin, “Miami huh? Might as well start calling you that.” Your cheeks turn a reddish color out of embarrassment. “Y-yeah Miami.” He turns back around with a light chuckle at his own joke. “God he already seems so arrogant.” You thought to yourself.

Shortly after that, the teacher starts the lesson. Some stupid “get to know you sheet!” that feels the same every year no matter what state you’re in. Your eyes keep flickering back to Chris every now and then, seeing the way he laughs at all the dumb comments his friends make. And the way he touches his hair every five seconds.

Class ends and everyone starts to head out, then you get stopped by that girl Lilac. “Yo wait.” She says grabbing your wrist. “Yeah?” You reply back. “ Aurora right?” “Yeah??” “I think you should stick with me cmon let’s go.” She grabs your hand pulling you to lunch.

Up first, it’s kinda awkwardly aimlessly sitting there picking at the slop the lunch lady slammed onto your tray. Lilac is the first to speak up, “What lead you to Boston? If I lived in Miami I’d never leave.”

“My parents work, it requires them to move around the whole US sometimes even different countries and I’m stuck with it.”

You reply back to her with the bitterness about it almost transparent behind your words. “Well damn, at least you get to explore the world right.?” Lilac replied back with she was the first person you met that had an optimistic approach on it, everyone only saw the dark gloomy part of having to leave what you know behind.

“Never thought of it that way.” You said taking a bite of your food. “You should makes life easier.” Lilac said back. As lilac was about to speak again your eyes shoot up as you see a whole tray get spilt on her from none other then…what.? Chris Sturniolo?! I mean yeah she seemed a little cocky and arrogant and he had his head up his ass but that seemed low to do to someone. Lilac turns around, “watch where you’re going dick!”

He turns back giving her a big smile, “sorry must haven’t have seen you there weirdo.” He keeps walking away laughing with his jock friends. Lilac sighs as you stand up quickly and try to clean her up. “That’s my ex, he’s bullied me ever since I broke up with him it must’ve hurt his ego badly or some shit.” She says as you get the remaining food off of her. “Oh, I’m sorry that has to suck.” You say sitting back in your seat with a sympathetic look on your face.

She responds with, “Nah really know worry I’m used to it, what’s your next class.?”

“Oh, I have history with ms Milo.” You say.

“Lucky! I have Mrs Boris bio class.” Lilac groans. There a little more chatter between the two of you before it’s time to leave for class. “I’ll catch you later Aurora.” Lilac says walking away before you can answer.

You start walking around the long almost windy feeling hallways trying to find ms Milo’s history class. After countless bumps into people and almost walls you find yourself in front of her class room door. As you’re about to walk in someone tries to walk in at the same time as you, you look up and see none other than Chris Sturniolo.

Let’s hope I have the energy to finish it! (Not proofread don’t judge!)

Not romanticizing any of the triplets at all think of them as almost separate people while reading this.

[sctir]

LETS FUCKING GO

[aishite9]

Why is love so unattainable? Even if u did infact manage to obtain it, it slowly disappears, just like the fireworks—it slowly sparks then blows up to shine in its peak, and then...just gone in a blink of an eye.

[i-know-the-endss]

just want to point out how the music that played during penelope and colin’s first kiss (and continually in colin’s dream sequence, though it is much more atmospheric and orchestral in that scene, hinting at its fairytale, dreamlike quality) plays for a few beats when he walks in the room and they notice each other, and only stops when they look away.

they’re both thinking about it. they can’t stop thinking about it, or each other. it is only the belief that the other does not want this that keeps them apart, even when what they both want is to be together.

[unopenablebox]

🌸 was very charmingly on board with the project of coming up with aesthetic opinions and ideas for a chuppah once i promised that, if it becomes clear that i'm not maintaining a pace that can be achieved comfortably in the time available to me, i will cheerfully accept using some sentimental tallit as a chuppah cover instead of fucking my wrists up by pushing myself

[boundwithpurple]

“What do you like best?”

“Best of all, at the moment, I like Racine.”

He thought about Racine and about Women in Love, and about Frederica Potter, and could make only one connection.

“Vénus toute entière à sa proie attachée.”

“No, not that, the awful balance of the ineluctable. Let me tell you my clever thought about the Alexandrine, which I couldn’t get in my A level script, or hardly, because the questions were so circumscribed. I’m breaking with knowledge about Racine I shall never tell anyone, and after a time I shan’t know it. That’s terrible.”

“You will,” he said. “Tell me about the Alexandrine.”

He was a good teacher, not, like Bill, because he charismatically communicated passion and a sense of importance, but because he could listen, he could ask the next question, he could hear a train of thought. He made a space of time in which Frederica could tell him about the Alexandrine. He sat, with the warmth of Jenny’s crimsoned flesh fading from his arms and belly, and looked at this girl, who had always roared and rumbled at him, vacillating between the Lawrentian hyperbolic and the Just William bathetic, and she told him, cleanly and neatly, quoting at length and with increasing calm and order, about the structure of one Alexandrine, and then two, and then strings of them, from Mithridate to Athalie, from Britannicus’s heavy ironies to the flame in the blood in Phèdre. She sat neatly and on a hard chair, and he thought she had a good ear, a very good ear, and then remembered she was a muscle-bound actress, and smiled to himself, at which she said, as though she had heard his thought,

“I love it because it’s all so chill and precise on the page, it’s so lucid, and yet I can’t imagine it being acted without extravagant gestures and a kind of roaring noise that would quite ruin its symmetry. I can’t imagine anyone acting it who didn’t just stand still and occasionally sweep an arm up and down, or drop his head in his hands. Do you think so?”

“That seems right.”

“I love you.”

It followed so naturally, the whole explanation had been a love-offering, so made and so received, he reflected.

“I love you,” he said, as simply as he could, wanting her somehow to know that her cautious and tentative, then fluent and abstract and impassioned words had moved him as another woman, rosy and naked in his hearth, had not. The inviolable voice with a vengeance. No, not that, only how rare it was to offer anyone a thought. He had always been told she was very clever and taken it on trust: she had told him so herself often enough.

“I love you because you are very clever,” he elaborated, to show her that he now knew it.

“I love you because you can write.”

“Are those good reasons?”

—The Virgin in the Garden, A.S. Byatt