sourlys ♡ jules .
❛ you shouldn’t say things like that so easily , it makes it seem less genuine . ❜ logic is lacking , but to her , serious remarks should be the hardest to communicate . truth hurts , that was fact . declarations on the playground back then were simple , staying confined within school walls and just barely following them on their walk home . now , sweet sentiments loomed over her head with a weight that dragged them down , because they either meant forever or until one random monday where things suddenly stopped working . jules was a realist , but she wasn’t willing to take a chance on those odds . going in without any expectations made it easiest , blind dates becoming routine because she wanted nothing out of them . hardened notions were built on from a child of divorce , it all seeming like a waste of time as she became observant towards the relationships that fell apart around her . however , if it came down to arthur and her , she knew it wouldn’t mean so little . that’s what scared her most . ❛ why not ? we are best friends , after all . it could be fun . ❜ voice is loud so he can hear while she ignores the irritation pricking at the back of her head , faux smile dimpling cheeks . maybe best friend was too strong of a term , but they weren’t exactly exes , either . ❛ yes , i’m worried , because without me you’d be completely fucking hopeless . here , they’re not there . ❜ throws his sweats at his face , tactfully making it seem like an accident . ❛ change . ❜ and with that , she retreated to her tiny kitchen , pouring him a glass of water and starting a brew of coffee —— she doesn’t need to ask him how he likes it .
the thing is : he’ll wait for her . as long as it takes . and even if nothing happens at all , arthur will never muster up enough bitter feelings to regret every year he’s spent at jules’ side . he has nothing but patience and an un - breakable will . it doesn’t help that she has been the ever - lasting constant in his life , arthur holding onto her permanence with needing hands . often times , it felt like if there was no jules then arthur would cease to exist : no root holding him to reality , no beacon to force book - driven fantasies out of his head except for her heady dose of realism . he’d long since learned that home is better defined by the people you’re around rather than a place ; and she was the closest thing he had to it . he’d watched her through starry eyes as they grew up , has learned to know her better than himself , always admirable of the fact that they each seemed to hold the pieces the other was missing . they were just always jules and arthur . he’ll slip out of cold - bitten jeans in favor of the sweats he clumsily works his way into , padding across linoleum tiles to reach where she’s putting together drinks . ❛ actually , i’ve decided that we’re enemies now and that i don’t like you at all . ❜ but his words hold no actual bite . he aches to reach out to her , fingers itching to place themselves at the nape of her neck as a thank you for the water and coffee , for everything . ❛ if you want me to leave , i can . ❜ finds the world around him a little less out of focus , sheepishness coursing through his veins . scratches at the back of his head . ❛ but if you let me stay the night , i promise i’ll make breakfast . and be out of your hair before work . ❜
