Discover Top Posts Tagged with #thousandyearsmile

[ Okay, so maybe she's a little tipsy. Nothing wrong with that.

(Nothing wrong with getting lost in the eyes of a man sitting a few stools away, either.) ]

Hey, I don't normally do this--[ lie ]--but I've just got to know your name.

22, 36

22.Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?

[ Once upon a time, the answer would’ve been Joyce-then-Giselle, their elbows knocking together as they sat piled next to one another on her bed, and maybe she doesn’t tell her everything, maybe there are secrets she keeps tucked close because secrets will always, always be her sword and shield, her armor, but it comes very close.

Once upon a time, it would’ve been Elliot, freckles like the stars and eyes too blue, a skinny shoulder against hers as they sat up late at night because Elliot couldn’t sleep and Josephine was always a little restless, because for all that she saw through him he saw straight through her too, too wise for someone so young.

But now it’s Caleb, who pushes a coffee cup across the scratched tabletop of a diner and lets one corner of his mouth quirk upward, who splits boxes of take-out with her because half the time she doesn’t feel like cooking and half the time she’s awful at it anyway, who is a pair of steady hands on her shoulders and kindness she doesn’t deserve sometimes because she pushes him away when she’s angry and bitter and hurting for things he has no control over, things he’s never done, things he will never do.

He is not the first best friend she’s had, or the

second, or the third, but she is no less thankful

for him — sometimes, she thinks she might be

thankful for him most of all, because she thinks

of an unfamiliar city and a bus stop and the

prettiest sunrise she’s ever seen.

Once upon a time it would’ve been someone else, but she’s not sorry that it’s someone she never expected now. ]

Caleb, probably.

36.Who was the last person you took a picture of?

[ There are photographs all over her apartment, in frames and tacked to the fridge and in boxes in the linen closet. They remind her of where she’s been and who she is now, what she’s gained from something she’s lost. ]

I think it was Romeo.

#answered #jaybirdsinging #thousandyearsmile #ahopefulgeneration #anotherloosecannon #no #all these feelings

Kes or Caleb.

[ It shouldn’t be a choice she has to make.

Because she can have both, can’t she? She does

have both; she has them both in her life right

now and maybe she didn’t have them always but

that doesn’t matter because they’re such large parts

of her now, tangled in her veins, wrapped up in her

bones, settled beneath the surface of her skin.

And it’s not a choice she’s willing to make because she can’t think of a time or a place or a reason she would be put in a situation like that; her mind struggles to wrap around the concept of it, even, the idea of choosing one over the other.

Because she sees Kes’ shaking hands and

his sad eyes and missions and together but not

and years and years and a bar and a drink and

a cigarette and the twitch of her fingers toward

his sometimes but she also sees Caleb’s face in the

rain and the curl of his smile and the ratty hat he

took to wearing and hope and a second chance

and

she can’t choose.

Because she loves both of them, loves them in ways she understands and doesn’t; loves them like she’s suffocating, sometimes; loves them like it’s all she has and it isn’t but would that be such a bad thing, if it were true?

(Loves them in very, very different ways

but that’s nobody’s business but her own.)

So to make her choose —

as though it could be that e a s y —

makes her laugh, really, the sound too

sharp in her throat. ]

That's not a choice I'm ever gonna have to make.

[ And because she's a little angry that someone would even a s k , ]

Real pointless of you to even suggest it, honestly.