#roxy tbt

[ofcaliginous]

@tvistedminds​ ( for anvi )

❝ can i take you to my therapist ?? because he thinks i’m making you up. ❞

[ofcaliginous]

@howlingwind​ ( for gia )

❝ bury it deep inside you and just cry in the shower like a normal person. ❞

[faltlines]

@desiredisarray:

i’m fairly good at cheating death, she says, and eggsy doesn’t cry. he doesn’t. there are tears in his eyes, threatening to drown him. to clog the back of his throat and wrap around him like a snake cutting off his oxygen supply, but he doesn’t cry. he doesn’t let up either, though. maybe because that will show how close he is to it. how close he was to losing everything; kingsman, harry, roxy, his family. he can’t quite believe that it’s starting to slot back together. that it is just buildings and traditions and bullshit that he doesn’t care about. he’s still with his family. he’s still okay. still breathing, fighting, earning another day in this shithole. he wants… he doesn’t know what he wants - but he can’t let go. not yet. any time in the immediate future would be too soon. far too soon.     “yeah,”     he murmurs after a while, and if there’s a lump in his throat still, then neither of them are going to talk about it because that’s how it is.     “seems that you fuckin’ are. jesus fuckin’ christ, rox. how the fuck did we end up like this?”     it’s easier to talk when they aren’t looking at each other. when he isn’t as vulnerable as he feels. raw and exposed to the nerve.

when eggsy doesn’t let go, she doesn’t question it–– perhaps because she doesn’t want to let go either. if he did cry, it wouldn’t matter. in fact, it would be damn well understandable. roxy had cried herself: countless times since headquarters had been blown to bits. but she was alone and that made it easier. for now, she just keeps her arms wrapped around him, eyes shut and face pressed into his shoulder, relieved not to have to look at anything, not to have to keep watch. relieved to be a girl in a room with her best friend. “ i dunno, ” she says quietly, one hand finding his shoulder to give an affectionate squeeze. “ ‘m just glad we’re both here. ” she doesn’t say safe, she doesn’t say alive. the words don’t bear saying, not right now. trauma sits on each of them, heavy–– and while maybe someday it’ll do them good to sit and talk about it, roxy sees no point in ripping the bandages on so fresh a wound to see if its healed.