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シ ☁ "Who did this to you?" "Do you trust me?"

シ my muse walks in on your naked

Esme tended to forget to knock — it just seemed unnecessary and it wasn’t like she got embarrassed easily, no matter what she found on the other side of any door. So barging into Maksen’s room unannounced wasn’t out of the ordinary for her. What was unusual though was how very unclothed the raven haired male was as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in through the window. He was tangled up in bed sheets, arm draped over his eyes as though fighting off the traces of early morning in order to steal a bit more sleep. His hair was mussed and Esme could almost envision fingers having raked through it in the time before he fell asleep. She followed the lines of his body in one swift glance before lifting her gaze back to his face, seeing his serene expression and finding pleasure in the fact he was having a good sleep. Where most people might have turned and instantly walked out, Esme folded her arms with a tiny, appreciative smile. Not creepily staring but just appreciating the obvious beauty of her friend and confidant for a moment before clearing her throat to make her presence known. “Wake up sleeping beauty, I need to talk.”

I DID THAT WRONG LEMME RETRY

Esme and “shy” weren’t words that one would string together in the same sentence. It didn’t matter that she was fresh out the shower, only a towel wrapped around her body as Maksen said he was on his way over. She was comfortable with him and comfortable with herself so really, did it matter? Of course, she knew there were plenty of people who would disagree with her policy and advice against texting back for Mak to just let himself in. Esme didn’t listen well to others. She’d just dropped the towel, outfit for the day in hand when Maksen walked in. A giggle erupted from the girl’s lips as his face flushed completely red upon realizing Esme was very naked in front of him. He stammered and seemed to forget how to use the door, scrabbling for the handle to no success as he covered his eyes with his free hand. “Maksen, Mak,” Esme smiled, dashing over to grab the plush lamb robe from her bed and draping it over her body. “God, don’t pass out or something. It’s okay. See? All covered.”

☁ our muses are trapped in a fire together

It was probably unsettling, how calm Esme felt as the heat of the four walls surrounding them brought perspiration to her face. Perhaps it was all in Maksen’s tight grip on her forearm, keeping her steady despite the smoke curling above her heads. Perhaps it was just his company alone and the knowledge that self-sacrficial Maksen would stop at nothing to save others, especially the young girl he’d practically helped raise when she was much littler. Licks of flames shot up the wall furthest from them and Maksen’s grip tightened. “We’re going to get you out of here, Esie,” Maksen’s lilted voice, raspy from smoke inhalation assured her as he used his sleeve to try jiggling the knob of the door they’d approached. Esme believed him without a doubt in her mind.

"Who did this to you?"

It’s a strange question filtering into her ears as she curled into the comforting embrace of the familiar male, his hands brushing soothingly up and down her back as she swallowed down choked sobs of fear. It was a nightmare that had caused her panic — the same one of the man in the dusty room, holding her hostage with a gleam in his eye that said her chances of getting out unscathed were near to none — not any person. Esme supposed, however, that it was sort of obvious if you knew her that she wasn’t the type of girl to have a nightmare out of the blue, that her bad dream had foundation if she was this rattled. Esme swallowed a few times, just clinging to the loose fabric of Maksen’s shirt, feeling a little bad for soiling it with her tears. “I just —,” she started, her voice a croak more than anything else. “It wasn’t… I don’t want to…” Esme closed her eyes tight and considered her next words very carefully. This was Maksen. If anyone else could take the news of her childhood as well as August, it was him. “I have to tell you something…”

"Do you trust me?"

A much younger Esme held tightly to the handlebars of her bicycle, knuckles white with tension as she shot a panicked glance into the brown eyes of the boy currently clutching at its frame, keeping her upright. She didn’t like the tone of his voice, the smile implied he was going to let go. They were progressing slowly, Esme’s tentative, patent leather covered feet turning the pedals with hesitation. She let her teeth clamp down into her lower lip and tried shaking her head. No, she didn’t want him to let go. She couldn’t do this without him. Instead, Esme found herself nodding, glossing black ringlets bobbing spryly with the gesture. “Yeah,” she squeaked out, betraying herself; Maksen’s smile was bright and almost made up for him releasing his grip on the bike. “You’re doing it!” Esme vaguely registered as, wobbly and uncertain, she pedaled the pastel pink contraption down the rain damp street. “You’ve got it, Esie! You’ve got it!” And perhaps she did. Until… “How do I stop?!”

#these got rambly i'm sorry #baby!makesme for you #answered;#wutmaksen #now its even longer #well done nat