bruna marquezine, she/her + cis female, 22 | well of course you’ve heard of CALISTA REIS, right? they are a third year student living in linacre taking history at rye university, and as per the blinds, they are like the taste of rose water, tears made of tiny diamonds & poison scented perfume.
hello hello! my name is alex, i’m 23 and you can find me in the cst. this is the most i’ve WORKED on a character before actually playing them gdfsh so i’m excited to be here & to meet all of you !! here's a little something about calista because as i said, i wrote a bunch and don’t expect anyone but me to read all of it
if you’re feeling curious here’s her doc (it’s a google slide because i hate formatting google docs, sorry), it’s got pretty much everything but keep in mind i’m still thinking of wanted connections!!
here’s a pinterest board i have yet to organize :)
and at last, some bullets for miss calista (you can listen to this is me trying by taylor swift while you read):
her dad’s a very important business man in brazil but they moved to the usa for the children’s higher education.
when she was little she wanted to be a princess (still does) and i think that’s funny because she’s probably doing better than most princesses at the moment.
eldest daughter of three, loves her brother and pretends her sister isn’t a thing. (speaking of, if you want to bring her brother hmu, he’s of age).
she’s her family’s most precious jewel and her one task is to make sure she shines bright. on paper it sounds like a great deal but she’s just so sad all the time.
don’t get me wrong she loves loves loves the attention.
calista just has a lot of love to give and as she grew older she came to realize people she thought loved her, only wanted her for her beauty or her money or her last name so that’s still a hard pill to swallow.
[SEXUAL ABUSE TW] when she was 14 she was abused by the person she called her best friend by the horse stables and she hasn’t told anyone but she also hasn’t been the same person since... or been able to even get close to the smell of horses. [END OF TW]
it’s gone downhill since then, every day that passes she has less of an idea of who she is, all she knows now is to follow her mother’s instructions but she’s honestly suffocating.
she’s a charmer when she needs to be but really, once she understood the world is built on bullshit, she figured there was no point on wasting the little love she’s got left on people who don’t care for it.
so calista can be a cold bitch if it’s not in her best interest not to be. if you want a pretty girl to hold your hand as you stroll through campus, she can do it but there’s really no need to fake pleasantries when you both know you’re only doing it for the status.
she’s a history major because daddy thought it a good idea to have her go to college but... she’s honestly kind of enjoying it, too bad she’s not expected to do anything with her major.
a cool, absolutely beautiful and poised exterior, little do people know she’s about to crumble.
how she deals with it all? maybe talking to somebody? oh hell no, instead she sometimes switches on the “bella swan in new moon” mode and does something reckless to let off some steam. she’s careful not to be caught by the cameras though because she does have a reputation as the pristine princess to keep.
she’s a romantic at heart though, still hopes she’ll some day find true love and somehow find herself in the process. if you try to fool her... your chances of succeeding are high honestly but watch out because she’s got a 0 tolerance policy on people who wrong her or those she cares about.
she has a talent for spotting the thing you love most and finding a way to destroy it for you so thread carefully.
super jealous, super vengeful little angle. tell her she’s pretty once in a while and she’ll go easy on you.
if you read that whole thing i want you to know i love you very much !! for connections i can do it all please! she has a hard time trusting people but we can also do fake-ish friendships so please come come, we’ll think of something.
her hand lingers by the silver railing of the yacht. a line of crystal water runs across and under the white boat... and then one of deep blue that makes her heart race, her skin tingle. she stands in her favorite yellow bikini, the sun burns and calista... is utterly happy. the ocean breeze kisses her skin with a familiarity that almost brings a tear. the girl glances back, a teasing smile adorning peach lips as she turns her back on the ocean and sets both feet on the yacht’s edge. “oh don’t tell me you’re worried about sharks”.
Mai wouldn’t let any of the professors treat her like that — she would be complaining to the dean, file a complaint, and the teacher would be lucky if they still had their job by the end of it. But she supposed not everyone was as keen on winning as she was. “If you say so,” she agreed, biting another piece off of her remaining croissant. Her eyes fell to the book, and she tilted her head to the side. “Hm, that rings a bell.” More than that, but she didn’t want to let that show. “Did you read it already?”
calista nods happily and falls backs a step so their eyeliner wouldn’t be too messed up, neck cramped and all. she does say so. it’s fine. missing one class won’t be the end of the world and her parents quite frankly wouldn’t pat a lash if they found out anyway. if anything they’d be a little concerned on how serious calista is actually taking her education in rye. the other tilts her head and it brings calista a small smile on the corner of her lips, she turns the book to face her now, examining it one more time– its thick cover, its glossy pages, its heavy weight. “i did, yeah. I think I like reading better than attending class, honestly”.
“if i have to read one more article over the theories of some old greek god, i might have an actual heartattack.” he mumbled, in hope that the two of them wouldn’t get called out by the librarian again for being too ‘loud and disruptive’ as she called it.
calista lets out a a chuckle, one she soon cover with a dainty hand after a glance towards the grumpy librarian. this is exactly why she prefers coffee shops to study and read. “i’d much rather read about greek myths than your philosophy nonsense”.
Kasey nodded, as though such a question warranted a certain answer. “Yes, these things have a way of doing that. This happened last week when I found a pin in a snow bank. I don’t know how long it was there, but it was waiting and melting, just until I saw it.” She gestured to her collar, where an enamel maneki neko waved its one paw in Calista’s direction. “I love him, but one day I’ll give him to someone else, I think. Good luck is even better when you pass it on, that’s what my grandma loves to say.” She nodded encouragingly as the other woman took the bag. It was a bit of brightness passed between them, and it made Kasey smile. “I’d give you a marker to put in there, but I really need those for my next class.”
perfectly shaped brows knit together. trying to follow. trying to understand. it’d honestly amaze her the amount of effort calista’s actually putting in the otherwise silly conversation. but what she’d often pass as silly and even childish, today it’s rings like magic, tastes of stardust and… she likes it. it’s new and warm and somehow comforting, her hands squeeze the material– her material. brown eyes meet kasey’s and the drift down to the tiny cat hanging by her neck. it’s cute and quirky. not something she’d ever hold on to but then again, she never thought she’d ever hold on to the case no resting in her hands. a smile surfaces her features– soft and dazed still from a bad night’s sleep and an even worse waking up. “that sounds wise” she admits with a nod, the idea of giving instead of taking and taking until they left people dry… her family’d way. “no please it’s okay. this is… more than enough”. and then an earnest: “i’ll take good care of it”.
“i asked first,” she challenges. an ill attempt to buy herself more time, to find some type of adequate answer to give to the girl. if she’s being sincere, it comes back in flashes. a hazy dream filled with random snapshots of a night she couldn’t quite forget and yet couldn’t bring herself to remember. the night becoming more like still life portraits that she could try to paint from the emotions that ran through her body those fateful hours. if she were being honest, she’d tell cali how she was the catalyst that caused louisa to run full force into a web of questionable decisions. spite born out of loneliness, something she took out on cali when she showed up on duke’s arm. no doubt that the alcohol she’d consumed only intensified the negativity that was running through her veins when she lashed out. her best friends words cutting deep knowing that cali never shot to miss, the venom laced words were meant to hurt, and more than that, were actual truths. self-loathing turning into self-projection as lu thought she found a cheap shot to direct her ire towards except for once, teddy managed to surprise her and fight back. her sobriety was questionable by then, words fueled by the recklessness of one too many drinks. spewing poison she knew would sting though words she normally would never dare say. there were limits, boundaries, even louisa was usually rational enough to know the difference. usually. irrational logic made her seek an eye for an eye, even if teddy hadn’t been the one to initially hurt her. funny how she ended up being the one to physically add to that pain though. in hindsight, that should have been the tipping point of the night. it wasn’t every day she got punched in the face but then again, it wasn’t every day she felt butterflies for the one person she swore up and down she hated. which despite one chaotic decision after another that seemed to follow her that night, sitting outside with mikel had easily been the most confusing part of it all and somehow the most real. if she were to be honest, she’d share the moments that seemed to be most ingrained in her mind and in her heart. except, louisa’s never been one to be honest. not even with the one person she’d call her twin flame. which was perhaps why their friendship worked so well because despite how well the two knew the other, there was also a silent understanding that there was more to both that met the eye. keeping each other close while at arm’s length all at once.
the world tilts to a side, ear resting close to her shoulder. calista remembers when ana sat her down in bed, brushed her hair into a loose braid and traced careful fingers through her golden skin, tracing figures in her arms. birds and butterflies, her touch a permanent mark of magic on her skin, they danced and took flight, landed behind her ears, laid soft kisses on her rosy cheeks, a freckled nose from staying too long in the sun, and finally on her eyelids. ana’s voice echoed throughout the room in a velvet tone as calista drifted to sleep. she remembers listening to the story of alice– the curious girl whose mind and wonder open portals to impossibilities. how she glimpses a white rabbit and follows through an endless fall, how she then walks into a room, taps a finger against her own reflection and walks through the mirror. louisa challenges and she can’t help but feel as if time has stopped: or hope it has because calista’s walked through a reflection of her own in which the air has texture and weight. She can almost see herself– the pair of them crossed legged. it’s as disorienting as it’s eye-opening. how come nobody had ever told them? how come nobody had ever hinted at it? she can see it clearly now, the absolute misery revolving them or was hers too great it tainted louisa’s wild fire? i asked first. a challenge laced with a smile, with a tease, with a spark. how effective it was to hide so much doubt and fear, calista might’ve not even noticed had she not been in… well whatever this hell of a state is. she wonders if the frigid water has managed to set that relentless fire in a slumber but she doubts it, and doubts it once more as the girl takes another gulp from the wine, feels her stomach stir managing some storm and her lips tug downwards just slightly. annoyance. it brews. it warns she’s not up for whatever games lu thinks she can play in here. not today. a roll of eyes, “well what do you want to know?” the words leave her lips as she buries herself further into the couch and its pillows. suddenly she gets the feeling reliving the night’s events once again is not such a good idea… the thought makes calista nervous, brings her hand down to rest on her lap, to tug at the hem of her shirt. “i…” she decides to skip the events involving lu. “had some good amount of vodka and tequila and some other random drinks– nothing did too much damage. i danced for a bit, smoked a lot– watched this girl collapse in front of me as i had a cigarette outside. astoria got a little dora the explorer and dragged me to this room upstairs to watch the stars. that house is the stuff of nightmares by the way, they should really invest a little on it or find themselves a better venue. what else? i don’t know, i talked to a lot of people and I honestly don’t remember all of them, yolo and… this random guy at the bar. whatever. oh i actually talked mikel into shopping some decent clothes, bambi spilled god knows what on my skirt– i’ve sent it to two dry-cleaner’s already and it honestly killed the night for me but i couldn’t find stupid duke anywhere so i just drank some more and eventually found my way out”. a shrug, words vomited almost in one breath, most of them plain… not a night to remember. granted, she’s left out a bunch of details– some juicy even, but maybe she’d warm up eventually, maybe the wine would losen up her tongue and she’d spill.
there she goes again, with a smirk like a snake. she knows louisa grew up with some passion for torment and chaos, with a incessant need to taunt and provoke and calista could take it. she could roll her eyes and play along– even enjoy it, throw in some clever words of her own and just laugh in the end. people who’d delt with them both could probably venture to say the pair were two sides of the same golden coin, but calista knows better and perhaps that’s what makes them get along, but also what sets a ticking bomb in between their laced fingers. louisa may have a thing to bark and growl but calista has no business barking, a quietness surrounds her until she’s provoked to bite, sink fangs. louisa’s smirk is a bark– loud and playful maybe. another challenge, one she just doesn’t want to take. textured air, it weights and presses against her chest, the beginning of this quiteness, the only warning. an inhale, and an exhale, a sip from her drink– cup halfway through. it tickles her throat at first, but then it becomes heavy and silky, the silent burn brings a smile to her tired eyes– they should honestly be doing some face masks if she looks as rusty as she is feeling. gazes meet at the question, louisa’s eyes acting like a mirror, a reflection. calista searches an answer in them, the answer to a question she’s never had the guts to ask but here it is at last. it’s not shocking or surprising. they’ve known each other for years now, the question and her, they just hadn’t met face to face. lips part and two options lie in front of her. she tries, she really does try to reach the second one, the one that’s warm, but she can’t. hand brushes past as if it’s grasped a ghost. eyes widen for a second and a part of her wonders what lu makes out of this whole little scene. she hopes she doesn’t taunt, she doesn’t think she can stomach it right now. “i don’t” she answers at last, biting her lip and looking down. it’s not a lie and perhaps that’s why it burns her lips. why it takes a blow to her heart. breathe in, breathe out. a pretty smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. her feigned sweetness hurts like a spike buried into her chest, a poison that’s not deadly but it stings like acid and it spreads. brown eyes meet hers once again and she wonders if she knows how much she’s hurting her, how much she wants to brace herself. my bad, max. calista takes a sip from the wine, a bitter smile surfaces and it comes hand in hand with a chuckle that crashes against glass. the rim of the cup leaves her mouth and it almost rings as it brushes past her lips. a small detail that reminds the girl for some reason of the white powder and the little stash she keeps in a locked drawer, tongue swipes against her bottom lip– perhaps a thought to keep to herself. perhaps it’s enough, the mess she’s become. and she hesitates to say more on the matter, and then louisa agrees to dropping the subject but she’s opened a faucet that’s faulty and it keeps giving and giving. she’s unsatisfied and with a glimmer of hope that maybe words from her own tongue and her friends ears will somehow arrange her thoughts and feelings, and not only that, but set them on fire and watch the ashes fly far far away. calista comes to throw a blanket over the pair and makes an effort to tuck lu in as thoughts stir and eyes don’t meet. “it just can’t happen, you know? shouldn’t. i’d only mess him up.” glazed eyes, pleading for reassurance. a confession that hadn’t yet left her lips until then and it leaves her an even bigger mess, almost desperate to catch the words and hastily shove them back inside.
and it hits her again. the little detail of her gaze observing her touch, averting eyes full of love. how did she not see it before? how did no one ever tell them? the brokenness that lies beneath their skin, that ties their roots– thirsty and aching for another soul to hold on to. perhaps she did know, but never had she dared face it. a delicate portrait hanging onto nothing but rotten thread, threatening to crumble into dust. calista doesn’t let go and her eyes deep and dark say so as they search louisa’s own. she can almost look into the little workshop her friend keeps, the one that works twenty-four hours as it spins and spins a wheel of lies. a careful selection, some clever crafting and a whole lot of acting that creates this perfect mask. one that is allowed to lift rugs and open drawers in other people’s business, to set fire on them if it’s necessary, but it’s crafted in silk of spiders– strong, intruder proof. calista hesitates to speak or to say anything other than what’s been said already… how wise is it to push? and how important of a part should wisdom actually play in this little gathering of theirs, with wine and strawberries that for some reason remain untouched. she can very well turn the tv on, a glance at the remote reinforces that idea… and yet thick thick air warns against it. not for louisa’s sake, but for hers. perhaps a happy middle then, one that doesn’t push much further into a confession of sorts, but that merely drives away from the lies, gives that busy workshop a rest and a goodnight’s sleep. eyes narrow a bit, calista shrugs and takes a hold of a strawberry. “I wouldn’t vote for you after that, querida”. She throws back, the hint of a smile (one that’s soft, not sharp) as she takes a bite of the strawberry and closes her eyes for a second at the miraculous taste. dark chocolate and a sour sweetness to the fruit. “the truth, what else?” her words are harsh– hard enough, she supposes, but her eyes remain full of love. encouragement in her touch.
it has been said that a virtue is a mean between two extremes. however, this mean is difficult to accomplish because no one is perfect, especially not our muses — show us their bad side. bold the extreme of each virtue your muse is more prone to. take in even the slightest preference or tendency.
bonus: put a * after each pair of traits that has changed sides during their life. feel free to tell about it in the tags as well.
POLITENESS: untruthfulness vs rudeness
FIDELITY: obstinacy vs fickleness
WISDOM: guile vs folly
TEMPERANCE: abstinence vs dissipation
COURAGE: recklessness vs cowardice
JUSTICE: vindictiveness vs indifference
GENEROSITY: wastefulness vs stinginess
COMPASSION: segregation vs cruelty
MERCY: apologism vs hatred
GRATITUDE: complacency vs nostalgia
HUMILITY: weakness vs egotism
SIMPLICITY: simplism vs magniloquence
PURE: naivety vs corruptness
GENTLENESS: passivity vs irascibility
CANDOR: exhibitionism vs insincerity
HUMOUR: buffoonery vs boorishness
A 2B pencil sits in his hand as he presses it against the page, lackadaisical sketch forming where there should be coursework. The History of the Golden Age, that’s what his focus should be on— specifically, the artistic styles that emerged from it. But instead, Adrian finds himself much more entertained by capturing the landscape, the harshness of winter fading is beautiful in it’s own way. The sun feels warm against his face and so Adrian chooses to enjoy the day and worry about other things later, until another student manages to plant themselves right in the middle of his frame of reference. “Excuse me, could you just—” he begins, but cuts himself off just as quickly, thoughts flipping in direction as new inspiration hits, “actually, do you mind staying there? That’s perfect.”
.
a mindless walk. perhaps to get a view of the coming sunset but mostly to kill time in between classes… with only one hour in between them it kind of seemed foolish to drive home only to have to drive back ten minutes later. forest green boots make their way through a pebbled path until– calista turns at the source of the voice. eyes widening slightly at his proximity– but more so at the fact that she hadn’t even noticed his presence. the sun warms them both, calista in a pretty white turtleneck and a brown coat folded over her arm and hugged against her chest. brown eyes scan the scene: a young man (rather good-looking), pencil in hand, sketchbook in position. an artist. did this make her his muse? a soft smile graces rose lips, immediately grateful for the little distraction, a piece of fantasy gifted to her reality in this sunny afternoon. “facing the sun?” calista nods towards the landscape before them. “or you?"
it’s not like calista, to step outside of the comforts of her home in the middle of the night… not that it’s unreasonably late but there’s something about the stars shining bright like tiny diamonds in a black sea, a dark sky. she feels herself falling into some kind of trance, stepping out of her car and walking through the streets of rye– her brother would call her mad, her mother would throw a fit, but for now the brunette find comfort in the siren’s melody that lures towards the park… until a distant memory comes into view. she’s spent so many days lately walking underwater, in a daze she can’t escape. calista hesitates to approach for a second, thinking it perhaps some hallucination or dream, a happy vision walking between the real world and the land of dreams. she tucks a strand behind her ear and takes some steps forward, a pretty and pleasant smile painted on peach lips as she approaches the somewhat familiar figure: “do you know which way’s that pretty white gazebo? the one that kind of looks like the one in the sound of music?”
“No but diamonds are my best friends besides my actual human best friends.” She replied.
“Who? Cause I really want some now. Are they here?” She asked as she briefly looked out at the crowd of people dancing to their hearts content.
“I don’t remember if I asked your name, did I?” Carmen asked with a smirk before knocking her drink back and promptly ordering another one.
The alcohol in her system was already taking effect, she wasn’t sure what number of drinks she was up to at this point.
with a tilt of her head, eyes unconsciously fall on her hands, her fingers and the bling that dazzles for a moment as the club’s light finds the diamonds sitting on her fingers– a pretty band of them, cut and designed into a silver ring. callista wiggles her fingers for a moment, nodding with a smile at the girl’s statement. they were, in a way, better friends than most of the ones on her phone’s contacts. at carmen’s question, her gaze lifts to meet the crowd: a mass of crashing bodies bathed in flashing red light. dancing, touching, tasting– and a standing beauty with green streaks coloring blonde hair, stars shining on the temples, glitter frosting her collarbone, her hands. calista nods as if to say ‘that’s your girl’. “the one with the stars”. not her girl, but a girl she knew would provide nonetheless… and then a silly smile. her name, so rare for people to ask it without already knowing it. “calista” it flows from her lips like honey. calista, fairest.
He can’t really recall the last time he had stepped foot in the mall, perhaps that day he was too high ended up watching that Christopher Nolan film that no one understood but he swore he did, thanks to the aid of weed. A couple of minutes here and he already wants to leave, this place on Saturday afternoon was sensory overload but he had promised Cali that he would let her pick something for him to wear, and yes, he was regretting this decision. “This feels wrong,” he says, looking at Cali with sheer panic in his eyes. “It all looks the same, I don’t think we can find anything here.” It’s an excuse and a lousy one but he also believed he couldn’t find anything in these stores that he would like. “Do you have a store in mind or are you gonna drag me through several stores?”
contrary to popular belief, the brazilian beauty visits the mall perhaps… less than twice a year. not because she doesn’t actually enjoy shopping, but there’s a comfort in isolated boutiques, a certain purpose to them too. you didn’t just drive up to a boutique to walk in and out in less than five minutes, no, you entered and were greeted and browsed and tried things on and perhaps were even offered a drink or two. so, this situation really a happy compromise for the pair, even if mikel doesn’t exactly know it. she rolls her eyes in a playful manner, hands holding onto the prada purse hanging from her shoulder. “i will happily drag you to the city if you think we won’t find anything here”, calista says– though it could also count as a threat. “i was thinking armani would be pushing it, so how do we feel about banana republic?” calista turns around trying to get a glimpse of their surroundings through the bright lights and moving crowd– what do they even have in here?, “i’d say prada would be my best choice but… i don’t think they have it here”.
louisa can’t help but laugh at cali’s response, knowing what it is she means. in the years lu has known duke, there hasn’t been a time where she’d call him reliable save for the occasional yearly rendezvous the two had established years ago. he may be a lot of things, all which have caused louisa to hold a great deal of affection and endearment toward him, the occasional annoyance mixed in as well, but none of that meant he’d be the first person she’d call in an emergency. hazel eyes trail after cali as she watches her pick up the bottle, gaze widening ever so slightly as the brunette fills her glass before proceeding to fill lu’s. *so it’s that kind of night*. lu knows better than to question it, instead she’s careful to bring the glass back to her lips in order to keep the liquid from tipping over. despite calls not giving her time to answer, lu doesn’t question it. instead, she happily follows behind. “fine but i want the full details,” she reminds her as they head up the stairs. a brow quirks up expectedly as calista looks back at her. maybe it’s because of how quick cali is to respond or how simple the explanation is but there’s something about the way she says it that doesn’t have louisa convinced. not one to let things be, lu doesn’t quite drop it just yet. “that’s it?” she repeats with a small smirk on her lips, even out of affection she can’t help but stir the pot. “word of advice, you may want to tell him that — he doesn’t seem to be one who has gotten the memo that he’s just zac’s brother.” misnaming the boy’s brother a tactic to try and get something else from cali’s reaction, the curiosity with that situation being one that’s not about to stay dormant. funny how when the tables flip, louisa isn’t just as keen to sharing. “i got into a fight with teddy,” she repeats, a hint of exhaustion in her tone from the amount of times she’s had to explain it. she feels almost like a broken record, saying it over and over again, never once it actually becoming any less embarrassing. though, what follows from cali’s lips leaves before she’s even able to tell her that she’s fine leaves her wishing the focus had been on the fight with her step-sister. her stomach flipping in a somersault at the sound of mikel’s name, her questions only causing immediate regret at the fact that she brought it up to begin with. “no.” her response is instant, almost falling on top of cali’s words as her immediate reaction is to take back what she said. except, she has no idea how. perhaps in a split second of hoping to get some clarity to calista, she decided to admit to what happened that night but hearing the words echo back as she let them become real and cali’s questions of trying to clarify louisa’s action, only left her aching for the ground to open up and swallow her hole. “yes,” she corrects herself as hazel eyes search for calista’s, gaze almost pleading for a brief second for some type of answer. if there’s anyone whose seen the bare bones of her soul, it’s cali. though the flicker of helplessness lasts a mere second, louisa frankly quite rattled to feel like that’s a road she wants to go down. instead, the edges of her lips curl into saccharine smile, eyes flickering with mischievous as she tosses her a careless shrug. “what? you can still hate someone and make out with them,” she protests, carefully choosing her words as to not give away what it is she’s actually feeling, “i was drunk and he was there.”
the full details, she wants the full details. truth is the night is foggy and the cloud still looms over her like some sick reminder of that which she cannot hold, cannot have, cannot enjoy. calista remembers stepping out of the car with flushed cheeks and a hand wrapped tightly around an arm, she remembers eyes drawn to the pair, practiced smiles offered, kisses on cheeks, on hands like some princess walking into a ball. she remembers the constant chill running through her back whenever she came to gaze up at the ceiling– dusty and creaking. the mindless encounters, the pretty lights dancing, thick smoke leaving mouths, accumulating, intoxicating. the moon and the stars, a crashing body and the taste of tequila, vodka, the bright kitchen crowded with booze and red cups and salt, bambi’s pleading eyes and her voice raised and out to sting venom, her white skirt lost but more than anything the chance of oblivion lost. she remembers alright but it’s all so very meaningless she may as well not recall anything but the constant need to go home– even if the word home back then did not mean her house at linacre, did not even mean her house back in rio. looking back on things, she still perhaps feels like going home. calista takes a sip from her drink… maybe it’s a gulp but her actions with louisa there are rarely ever to put up a show. swift, quick, somewhat honest but never leaving much chance for comment, always kind of hoping she does not actually notice. she gives a little shake of her head, hand discarding her question, “you first” the girl commands, adjusting her seat on the couch.
calista looks down at her fingers fidgeting with the sock as she replies “what? do you want it to be more?” a smile, teasing but teasing at what? It’s not like the thought has not crossed her mind after all of those years. it’s not like she doesn’t notice the stolen glances and the lame-ass excuses. she may not be one of rye’s stop students but calista has spent her entire life analyzing social situations and adapting herself to them, turning them around and making them work in her best interest…. but the truth is the girl is left absolutely clueless when it comes to turning that situation around and the thought of it more often than not just brings her down. so she just doesn’t, she avoids thinking about it and settles to thrive under his pretty smile, his jealous gaze, his unconditional attention. lashes flutter up, gaze meets lu’s at last and she has to take another sip from her drink to shove down the knot in her throat, dry up the gleam in her eyes because god she will not cry. a bite at her bottom lip that threatens to draw blood, “it’s max” calista corrects with a roll of eyes, “you know who I’m talking about” a pause, and then a tilt of her head because…. lu did know, did she not? “right?– anyway, we’re just friends and we both know that so drop it”. an effort to shut down something she knew all too well would be harder to shut down. the memory of a walk home late at night with the pretty stars and his dumbest jokes and their smiles and their occasional held hands… it’s comforting but it carries something bittersweet. like some parasite well hidden in the fibers of the memory, hidden until messed with because then it’ll scream and fight and destroy anything in its path. “are you cold?” she tries to divert, hand reaching for a soft throw on a basket by their side.
maybe, some other time, some other day, louisa might’ve been able to get away with it. but it’s cold, the house’s been empty for most part of the week and it’s hollowness has come to settle certain melancholia in the girl. a little more than usual sometimes, it comes and goes in waves, sometimes it’s just a mist in the air and some other times it just threatens to drag her downing uncertain depths where it’s pitch black and she can only see her breath. concern floods her– at what she can’t even begin to say, think. ‘i got into a fight with teddy’– that’s one, brown eyes still search for the remains of the fight, the black eye. Not surprising, not at all. and even though calista has no issues with teddy whatsoever (even considered her a friend of sorts sometimes), a hand that reaches for her friend serves as a reminder of where her allegiance lies. she doesn’t fish for an answer or some further explanation because what doesn’t sit well in the topic ahead. later, they could come back to that later. calista decides and pays careful attention when the word ‘no’ leaves her lips. And then a yes, a plea lingering in her eyes for just a second before twisting into mischief, one calista cannot buy, will not buy. Fingers wrap a little tighter– in confort of reproach, perhaps actually both. eyes dig into louisa’s with an arched brow “and I don’t doubt that” she points out, comments of the past hinting calista through the past, the two leaving crumbs of bread for her to follow in silence and amusement at times… but this feels different, this feels dangerous. “you know louisa, with that performance you’re only getting to the oscar’s as somebody’s date”. sharp and maybe a little risky, maybe deserving of one of her tantrums… but necessary nonetheless.
