#ryvnnecross

[aryasilverstone-blog]

[ ` text → buttercup ᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )ᕗ ] aYE [ ` text → buttercup ᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )ᕗ ] GUESS WHO JUST LEFT THE HOUSE

( sms → blossom ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ ) SOMEONE WHO NEVER LETS US HAVE FUN TGT( sms → blossom ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ ) IM COMIN FOR YA MI LUV( sms → blossom ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ ) BTW WE GOTTA TRY THIS STH( sms → blossom ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ ) TELL ME U HAVE ALCOHOL( sms → blossom ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ ) OR I CAN BRING EM

[kangjvn-blog]

` at last

— ryvnnecross​

Blue plaid pajamas, a t-shirt, and slippers. On a couch, feet up on an ottoman, and an empty plate on his stomach. Keenan was in a comfortable bliss. Not only that, but he was within a short distance from the front door. That one door will be the man's rite of passage to a new relationship with his little sister.

Any time now, he'll be opening the door to a face he hasn't seen for nearly a year apart from the little, mandatory get togethers. With opening this door, he'd learn how to forgive. He'll learn patience an malleability, all this solitude was put forth to the test. Could he trust her? Of course, they were related by blood and that mere claim will be enough to hypnotize his bad judgement.

He didn't realize that he was watching Gossip Girl until he was suddenly distracted by a knock on the door, which he half expected. Quickly, Keenan switched to a hockey game and placed his plate on the ottoman while making his way to greet none other, but the great Ryanne Cross.