Paint Me Like One of Your French Girls

Spend Your Nights Wasted in V A I N // Yves Darnell, 32, Painter

[yves-darnell-blog]

sofie-gardner·:

“No, you’re right- you can’t. I don’t want your money, fancy dinners are or jewelry. “ Sofie shook her head, a soft smile pulling at her lips as she looked up at him with genuine compassion instead of the icy glares she’d been shooting his way moment before. “You’re going to cook me breakfast?”

A small amount of relief washed over her as she felt the crack in her heart seem to mend. Maybe everything would be okay,maybe, she mused I won’t be alone.

“ Yes, I’d love to come over for all of this. Any excuse to sit in my pajamas and watch movies with you. Just, do you still have my clothes at your place, or did you toss them?”

“You know I threw out almost everything that was in my old place,” “But I kept your things,”He wasn’t sure why he kept them, it could have been that he just didn’t have the heart to throw them away, and that he secretly hoped she’d come back some how and claim them. “But I don’t have your pajamas,” He mumbled. They hadn’t had a sleepover or any need for ‘bed clothes’ so they never found their way into his closet. “You can borrow a pair of mine,” He said with a cheeky grin. “Or we can stop buy the Fluer Du Mal?”

[yves-darnell-blog]

woman-out-of-wood·:

Laila took a sharp inhale in, recognizing this man as the strange one from the restaurant. She had taken a picture of him, only to delete it, but now she wondered if she should have kept it on hand, in case he proved to be a bigger creep than she thought. He seemed…. hostile. Exceptionally so. She’d rather face that one drunk man from the bar asking if she wanted to ‘take a gram’ and ‘head to Berkeley.’ Hopefully he didn’t recognize her from that encounter. Though, she did have a distinctive appearance, what with her Amazonian height and childish bangs. 

Damn it.

“Are both these rooms devoted to the same artist?” Laila asked, gesturing in front of her, and then behind her. “Or is it just the room?”

He sighed, for the most part Yves wasn’t very fond of strangers, but he promised to be on his best behavior for the gala owner and someone else. It was the first time since Berlin that he was showcasing his work to this magnitude, it was shocking the amount to leeway they gave him. Maybe it was his renowned fame, but they allowed him to choose all the pieces and the theme that went along with them. 

“Both rooms are dedicated to the same artist,” “If you read that little pamphlet your holding , it would tell you all you need to know about everything.”

[bookmania]

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and Song of Despair (via bookmania)

[yves-darnell-blog]

sofie-gardner·:

“Yves, you blocked my number, you fucking moved for Christ’s sake…I don’t know what to do to make that right. You were going to completely cut me out of your life.” Sofie licked her lips, pulling her arms against her chest. “I’m always right.” She replied stubbornly. 

“You have to figure out how to make it up to me. I can’t tell you how to make this right.”

“I know I can’t buy your affection with expensive jewelry and fancy dinners,” “But if I may be so bold as to invite you too my new place,” Yves cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I would like to cook for you,”

Yves wasn’t much of a chef in fact for some time he had hired a woman to make his meals and clean his flat. But what he did make he was very proud of.

“ How about breakfast for dinner, pajamas and a classic film noir.”  He knew it was a very big stretch asking her to come back to his house all things considered, but he wasn’t sure how else he could prove himself to her.

[yves-darnell-blog]

wolfgangkohler·:

Wolfgang stood up, feeling the effects of the alcohol heavily while on his feet looking to find himself more booze. However gravity had other plans and he ended up falling right back onto the couch where he had been sitting, “I’m very perceptive, I even added in that cute eyebrow furrow you do when you get annoyed with me,” the German teased, settling himself back onto the couch, “I haven’t decided on an ending though,” he pointed out as he picked up the manuscript to flip it open to the last page, “Does Stirling Monroe get with the girl of his dreams after all? or stay a lonely playboy for the rest of his life?” he eyed his friend, before taking a long drag from his cigarette,

“Care to fetch me another bottle?”

Rolling his eyes Yves made his way back to the far even of the room. He pulled open the glass doors, scanning the labels. “You drank all the malts, I only have the Japanese stuff left,” Sighing he pulled out the bottle without waiting for a response. 

He wasn’t sure how to take Wolfgang’s statement, Yves supposed that the author wouldn’t be able to finish his book until he did make a choice. What a sly bastard. 

Yves was about to hand the alcohol over when the lights flickered, than went out completely. 

[yves-darnell-blog]

woman-out-of-wood·:

@yves-darnell·

Every week, the online publication would list various events to check out in town, organized by price and type. Free events, events that ranged in the single digits, and things that cost a hundred dollars or so, they were all there, ready for any eager reader who wanted to try something new. One of those events, Laila learned, was an art gallery showing of some relatively new artist with a name she didn’t recognize. Of course, she didn’t recognize the names of many artists, outside of whoever was reviewed for the publication. The amount of errors a newer reporter would have in covering an event like that was astounding.

So, for this event, she figured she might as well check it out herself, just in case there were errors that she needed to fix for someone else’s story later on.

The second she walked into the gallery, she doubted herself. What was I thinking? I don’t know anything about art. It’d be a shame if she were approached by the artist unknowingly, only to insult his work. It was a him, right? She reread the name printed on the promotional material. Yeah, a him. I at least got that right. Be a shame if she made more errors than an incompetent reporter did, that’s for sure.

The more embarrassing thing, however, was her suddenly getting lost and wondering if she landed in a separate exhibit. So, she stopped a random person and hoped to get directions.

“Have you seen the-?” her speech cut off when she realized she recognized the man, and she stepped back, turning away in embarrassment.

He had completely forgot about the gala showing all together and wasn’t planning on going until he heard Wolfgang might pop by. 

Four drinks in and there was still no sign of that German prick, he checked his wrist watch huffing as he read the time. 9:20. What a dreadful evening he thought, grabbing another flute of champagne from a nearby waiter. He was about to take a sip when someone poked his shoulder. “Have I seen what?” His tone was flat, annoyance clear in his body language. “Speak up, don’t waste my time.”

[yves-darnell-blog]

sofie-gardner·:

Sofie stood there her arms pulled tight against her chest; “You never asked, Yves.” She spoke slowly, looking him up and down expectantly. “You made these assumptions and never spoke to me about my feelings. “ Sofie’s tears were drying against her cheeks now as she moved her arms down to her side, the key she was holding closed firmly in her palm. “You should have asked me, you should have talked to me but you just keep closing me out.”

His shoulders slumped, losing all the tenseness of a defensive stature. It was so easy to follow his predicable pattern, it had worked on every other woman in his life. But she was not every other woman, he should have known better. 

“You’re more than right,” He said combing back his hair. “I want to make it up to you, how can I redeem myself?”

[yves-darnell-blog]

sofie-gardner·:

“Why couldn’t we be more than friends? Why do I have to say I love you, why can’t we just go slow- why can’t we just take our time?” Sofie cried out feeling vulnerable and bare. Pushing against his chest she shook her head. “You assumed that because I didn’t say it back that I don’t care.”

Yves jaw went slack, his chest fluttering. “I did assume yes,” The words came out in an uncharacteristic stutter as he tried to fathom what she had just said. “You’ve never told me this,” He tried to suppress a small smile that pulled at his lips, feeling as though there were butterflies where his caution should be.

[yves-darnell-blog]

wolfgangkohler·:

“That is the reason why the merciful god put me on this Earth, to mock modern story tellers with my trickster ways,” man Wolfgang was drunk, he had nearly finished off the entire bottle of straight whiskey. “I couldn’t use a french name, that would make it obviously about you,” he pulled a package of cigarettes out from his back pocket, offering one to his friend, “Did you read the sex part or just skim through? I made sure you were well endowed if you know what I mean.”

He did have a point, the story practically screamed ‘this is Yves Darnell’  A french name would have just been the cherry on top for the masses. 

Yves leaned in to take the cigarette, smelling the heady scent of booze on the other’s breath. The man not only had a talent for erotica, but also one that involved clearing out his liquor cabinet. This wasn’t the first time he was subject to the German’s grabby hands. “Aside from my cock, I was more worried that you wouldn’t capture my wit or charisma,” 

[yves-darnell-blog]

sofie-gardner·:

Sofie nearly pulled away when his thumb reached out to brush her face but instead found her leaning into his touch; damn him, she thought while a sob pulled from her lips. 

Sofie shook in his arms as she cried, the fight fell against his chest and her fist balled into the fabric of his shirt. She wanted to hold onto him for longer than he would allow because all too soon he was pulling back and leaving her cold enough to shiver. Sofie was sure she desired him, longed for him, and could she love him? The feelings were there she could feel them knotted and tangled into a mess of words that she couldn’t quite get to form past her lips. 

“Why-” Sofie choked out a sob and shook her head, her fingers still held into the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you get to say what I deserve?” Sofie’s bitter tone seeped into her words as she uncurled her fingers from his shirt. “You’re jerking me around Yves, why does it have to be all or nothing?”

He sighed, the lines in his face hardening to an edge. “I’m doing no such thing,” You think I’m cruel?” “Well how cruel is it to ask me to put aside what I feel to satisfy a friendship, that skirts around one big lie and sexual tension,”  Yves folded his arms. “ But I can’t pretend that it doesn’t kill me anymore,”

[yves-darnell-blog]

wolfgangkohler·:

“Well then, perhaps you can bring it over to her,” he grinned knowing very well that Yves relationship with Sophie was rather complicated. Hell he wrote a whole story about it. “Your words hurt me, Yves,” Wolfgang sighed turning his head to give his friend a once over with another stupid smile. “Would you have preferred something more along the lines of, Bartholomew?“

He scoffed. “Do butcher the literary world while your at it sir,” Bartholomew, really? “ One would just assume you’d pick a classic Parisian name like Francois, or Javier,” “But than again I’m not sure what to assume since you described me as, tall, brooding and with a strong manhood, whatever that means.”

[yves-darnell-blog]

sofie-gardner·:

“Because I didn’t say it back?!” Sofie shouted pushing her hands against his chest. “You’re such a child! I don’t owe you the words, I don’t owe the words to anyone. Shouldn’t my actions speak louder than that!” Sofie screamed, her heart hammered in her chest and made her vision tunnel only on him. “You completely cut me out because I couldn’t say it back, but you didn’t even care if it hurt me, if I gave a damn, all you care about is yourself.  You weren’t even going to tell me you were just going to ghost me, pretend I never existed?!” Sofie didn’t care about those looking on as she shouted, she swore her heart was beating louder than she was screaming anyway.

Sofie yanked on the ends of her hair, her face was line with tears as she shook her head angrily at him. “You want an answer, I hate you! You’re a loathsome man without any regard for how your actions affect others. That’s what you wanted? You wanted me to hate you? You wanted to do to me what everyone else already had?” Sofie hummed, “Well then do it but don’t be a coward about it, don’t run from me, face me Yves, tell me you don’t want me in your life, tell me you’re leaving, tell me you don’t give a damn but don’t you dare run from me like some little boy, be a fucking man!”

 Yves came to cup her face, thumb running along the tear tracks and mascara lines. 

He was a man with pride bursting at the seams, but for her, he had shrunken down to the likes of a coward.  They both knew that whatever they shared couldn’t make them happy, so why did she seek him out? Being with her was so tediously painful, while she smiled and teased him, more than anything he wished to run his fingers through that long dark hair and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. He wished she could understand his selfish nature. 

Long arms came to wrap around her slender frame, holding her still. “I don’t want you to think well of me, while I don’t think well of myself,” One final push and she would be gone for good. “In my own private heart, I do not respect myself,” He let go, hands lingering for a moment. “Yes you do deserve a proper man, but I’m not him.”

[ijustwannabelegit]

As I get older.

[yves-darnell-blog]

wolfgangkohler·:

Wolfgang placed the manuscript on the couch and leaned back lifting his glass to his friend as some sort of a cheers, “You know what they say when you’re written into a novel, you live forever,” he shrugged, “so really you should be thanking me, and this is where I’ll say “Ihre Begrüßung.” Wolfgang shrugged pouring himself another glass of alcohol. Taking advantage of his friends hospitality.

“no, you’re the only one who’s read it, do you want her to know?“

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure she would be more than flattered,” Yves rolled his eyes at the look his friend gave him. “I on the other hand, am not,” Flopping onto the sofa beside him he grunted. “Do you really picture me as a Sterling?”

[envie-roleplay-deactivated20181]

@yves-darnell

There was only so much more of the silence Sofie could take, enough had been enough and she needed to get answers, and she needed them now. The skirting around, the things about him she just couldn’t grasp it had piled up and made her chest ache until it felt like should couldn’t breathe. So Sofie made her way to his apartment, the key swung around her neck as she made her way up only to open the door into an empty room; he’s gone. Her heart fell and Sofie felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Backing out of the apartment she ran into a neighbor, “Do you know where this tenant went?” Her voice shook as she spoke the only answer she received was a shrug as she took the steps back down to the lobby, practically running out of there as she went. 

Sofie felt like she couldn’t breathe, had he abandoned her too? Swallowing the lump in her throat Sofie pushed through a small crowd of people to see him walking in. She did not hesitate, or waste anytime. It was as if she were on autopilot as she closed the distance between them and swung out her hand to make a harsh impact with his face. “You’re a horrible heartless man!” Her bottom lip shook and before she could stop herself tears spilled over her cheeks and she had the sudden urge to do lines, her body shook as Sofie glared at him not once taking her gaze off of him. “After everything you know about me how could you do this to me? You said you love me but this isn’t love. This isn’t how you love someone.” She didn’t care she was making a scene, that people were stopping to stare, she cared that her heart had splintered in her chest and the world felt like it was crashing in waves against her making everything blur and swim before her in an unsteady way that dizzied her and made her stomach roll.

[yves-darnell-blog]

Yves looked back at man at the front desk, this hadn’t been the first time he had been slapped in the lobby of this apartment. It was only natural to assume that since he no longer lived here, there would be no more angry women showing up at his doorstep.

Tonguing the tender skin of his cheek, his eyes avoided her piercing gaze. He hadn’t expected to see her, normally people took the hint when they heard the dial tone or the friendly voice saying ‘this number is not in service’ .

He let her speak, not once losing his composure, only shifting on his feet ever so slightly. When she was finally done he squared his shoulders. “I’m not sure what you wish me to say,” “Yes I love you, but you made it abundantly clear I have no obligation toward you,” Yves strode towards her, lips thinned with anger. “Get off your high horse, I gave you everything and you couldn’t even give me a simple answer,” He was inches away from her now. “Is that how you love someone?”

[yves-darnell-blog]

wolfgangkohler·:

Making himself at home after pouring himself a glass scotch as he relaxed on the couch, crossing one leg over the other as a side grin crossed his features. Lifting the glass to his lips and giving a little lopsided shrug, “Please, retain your excitement,” he looked up from his glass to his french friend, “I wanted you to be the first to read it.”

Yves tossed the manuscript back at his friend and pinched the bridge of his nose as he paced. “You stole my life and slapped it on paper,” “That has to be fraud,” he muttered. 

Wolfgang even had the balls to leave little intimate details of his relationship with Sofie, ones he was sure he never told the man.“Does she know?” 

[yves-darnell-blog]

@wolfgangkohler

Thumbing through the thin pages of Wolfgang’s manuscript Yves became increasingly annoyed. “This is about me isn’t it,”