#s;stephen

[univcrsty-a-blog]

@visualnxmuses

Stephen shouldn’t be really doing this, but he couldn’t help but feel bad for Minjae when they were in a bad mood. It’s two in the morning and the boy allowed the other to sneak into his dorm room, he didn’t care but he wasn’t sure how the others would feel about it. “What’s wrong?” He sits on the chair at his desk as he lets Minjae take the bed. “You know you can tell me right?”

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“What kinda dog is that?”

gretaphasmatosmartin

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“That’s where you’re wrong...!”

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Ground floor, please.

     Discombobulated and a little disorganized, Stephen attempted to make space in his satchel for the thick copy of his mother’s script as he waited for the elevator to find his floor, the tight space proving hard to shove paper into. Remnants of loose-leaf paper, blue pens and coffee-stained napkins still haunted the bottom of the bag’s central pouch, and as the doors opened, he boarded, hesitantly giving up so he could navigate his long, clumsy legs and dial the ground floor. For a moment, he peaked at the person beside him: a woman unintentionally almost hidden behind an encased bass taller than her, shorter than him. But a moment seemed to stretch from seconds to a little over a minute; his vision was completely taken by her cloud of tight curls, the shape of her black coffee eyes, the way her hand tapped the goosebumped casing, fingered the notes, practiced a life in her head. 

     Maybe that minute was just fifteen seconds, maybe she’d stolen his gaze for shorter than it seemed; but he pressed the already florescent G button towards the bottom of the available, unlit numbers on the pad, then he returned his focus to stuffing the plump packet of selectively highlighted paper into his tiny, stylish satchel. 

camillelafaye

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     “It’s that time ‘a’ th’ month again,” Stephen started, “where I ask y’t’delete that dick pic I sent’cha ove’ two years ago...”

newtrashers

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“ ‘ey, Camille, there’s somethin’ I gotta---” Stephen said nervously, pausing as the waitress poured him a refill on his coffee. In only six successful dates, they’d already incorporated the tradition of ordering desserts instead of dinner on nights where they didn’t have much time to spend together; and since the beginning, he’d known her excuse involved her music and her night job. Tonight, he’d reveal his excuse for sharing these shortened dates with her. 

               “There’s somethin’ impor’ant I gotta tell ya.”

camillelafaye

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After thinking it over for a second, Stephen said, “Y’know, Sid, this might be su’prising, but uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

newtrashers

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“Wha...?” He jerked awake, trying to process what he thought was said; limbs slowing when he saw the other watch him. “I’m not sleepin’. Promise...”