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@ruinaa.
he presses his fingers to her cheek, glancing over her face, the pained look in it. his eyes flick with green, and his nostrils flare, jaw tight keeping himself from running past her and shifting. shilah takes in a breath.
“ -- he’s gone too far. “
OPEN.
“ -- then i’m your dad now. “
@wthwolves // shilah ❛ i do not think it means what you think it means. ❜
“So what? How well could you possibly know him? You’re a grown man. Grown men don’t share things with other grown men like that.”
She’s defensive, and unkind in how she backtracks.
“Whatever. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”
@daysandhayes.
“ don’t say that. “
100 SMALL DETAILS FOR KISSES; accepting. @ruinaa asked for: a kiss on the cheek turns into a kiss on the lips.
there are many nights like these. it doesn’t feel mundane; not like the past, where the days seemed to blur together in a haze of boredom, a mixture of dullness and disassociation. this was good. this kind of mundane was precious, something he wanted to hold close. what he did hold close.
eventually, she catches him looking at her, and not the tv. a look is passed between them before she moves from her spot on the couch to lean on him, wrapping the blanket around them both. it’s warm, it’s cozy, her breath hitting his neck as she dozes in and out of late night tiredness. he doesn’t suggest they move to the bed, knowing that roman will be home within the next hour to get them both there.
she shifts to look at him again some point, probably to check on him, as she does. shilah presses a kiss to her cheek, and to her other.
on the second kiss, she is the one who turns her mouth to kiss him on the lips. it is how they are now; warm, and soft, and comforting. he leans heavy into it before it ends, and they wrap themselves around each other tighter.
@soulmissed.
“ listen to this old man, alright? “
@brutlist.
“ cute. it’s cute, right? “
LOVE STARTERS; accepting. @ruinaa asked: “ you could stay here. with me. “
they have made it to a little place in the city where the music is a good, low rumble in their ears. the stiffness of the exhibit -- not his own, as he wouldn’t make so many rules and regulations and have such unfeeling things -- has finally left their bodies. they dance to shake the rest of it away, drinking the fun cocktails that are offered while he slips cash across the bar. maybe they have a little too much fun trying them all; but it was the weekend. they were together. they could have fun.
and they do. hours later, a little sweaty and a lot drunk, they sit at one of the lounge points in the club. her head is in his lap, his feet up on the table, and they could both fall asleep at this point, comfortable with one another. they don’t talk for a while, but she finally turns her head to look up at him.
he doesn’t want to ruin the night, but it does make his heart sting. “ -- you know i have to leave on sunday. “ shilah reminds her, gentle. “ -- i’m sorry. “
