6ittersh9t:

You squeeze his hand gently, stroking his palm with your small, warm thumbs as your hand tremble slighty. You’ve been shaking only that much after the shit of that night, and that didn’t helped – the alcohol did, but this you don’t speak out loud. 

You hear him with your non-exhistant ear and nod slowly. ‘’Okay,’’ you choke out, tears pressing to get out; stubbornly, you keep them back inside with a small smile, nuzzling his forehead as best as you can. ‘’Sounds good…’

You clear your throat in an attempt to heal it a little, before smirking a little and pressing your lips against hers for a brief kiss. Your eyes remain closed as you pull away. “Name’s Brad. You can call me The Best Sex of Your Life.”

6ittersh9t:

He winches, and you tilt your head at him, taking the cup away from his hands to cool down some before he can drink it. You are not totally heartless again – you still care about him, therefore your coming at his place.

‘’Yes?’’ You inquire, quieter than you were going to speak originally. His words stops abruptly and you frown in worry, taking a step closer to him before he attracts you to him. You freeze in terror, skin cringing at his touch – a thing you have been doing a lot, cringing at sudden contact, but you calm down as soon as you feel that he’s warm and still wants you. You probably know what the hand on your scarred stomach means, but you don’t want to think about it, at all. You return the nuzzle with a small, shaky sigh, and lower your eyes from his gaze to not start crying. You have cried enough, yet your eyes are glossy already.

He still can’t talk, which… you suppose that it is a good thing, really. Nor can you, and you swallow a lump in your throat as you tangle fingers with him, squeezing his hand reassuringly as the free hand gently pets his hair, nuzzling his head hid in your shoulder gently.

‘’… Missed ‘ou,’’

You can’t answer her straight away, but the way you press your hand against hers with the fingers entwined shows that you missed her too. Just as much, if not more. You miss the old her - the one who wasn’t mad at you for things that were out of your control.

After a few minutes you manage to get back enough of your voice to speak a few words to her. You lift your head and lay your forehead on hers, giving a light and gentle sigh. “Can we start over? From the beginning?”

6ittersh9t:

Severely doubting that he would have been there by your side managed to shatter your mind into pieces. As you told him, you are rather unstable by yourself – since Rufioh fucked you up again, not once. Twice, in just the span of one night. And the fact that he wasn’t there after what the hell you just experienced made you angrier than usual. There could have been a troll with black hair standing by his side and worriedly asking him if he was alright – and instead there’s a blonde one, with dark bags under her eyes and thinner than usual glancing at him with a pair of pretty, empty eyes.

He launches himself towards you, and you immediately take a step back and freeze – you have been repelling ody contact since you got drugged, not knowing what he was about to do. You frown as he voids himself back up again, offering an hand that is not needed – and you take and toss away the wire in a corner of the room, pushing the cup of tea in his hands instead.

‘’You told me that you were coming,’’ it’s the laconical response he gets. ‘’But you didn’t. So I did.’’

You take the cup of tea in your hand, downing it, before remembering that temperature is a thing and wincing. You should not have done that. You sigh, rubbing your throat for a moment before looking at her.

“I woulda come i–” You’re cut off by your ability to talk leaving you. Your throat hurts way too much to handle words. You do the closest to a sigh that you can manage, before sitting down and reaching over to take her hand, pulling her over and into your lap. An affectionate nuzzle at her shoulder shows that you’re still interested, but your hand pressed flat against her stomach shows that you need something from her. You pull back and look up at her.

“N-.” No. Talking definitely still isn’t going to work. You give up for now, laying your head on her shoulder again and taking her hand in yours. It’s nice to forget that the rest of the world exists every once in a while.

The amount of ball growing it took to land you where you are right now is almost unbelievable, but you’re here. You’re leaned against Ella’s doorframe, watching her work. She doesn’t know you’re there yet. It’s not the place that you needed to grow up to go to - it’s what you’re about to say.

I mean, you could back out. You don’t have to do this. Not right now. Or ever.

No. You have to do this.

“…Hey, El.”

6ittersh9t:

Keep reading

Had you known the thoughts going through Simon’s head, you probably would have asked her to leave. You’ve been through far too much shit for her to put herself before you again. You’d have been stood right by her side if you could have been. You’re about one more example of her putting herself first away from leaving her - if it could be called that.

You eventually notice her presence and… it’s been, at least a week or two since you saw another person. Or. Troll. At first, you’re not exactly sure how to react, but it’s not long before that curse you have begins to kick in and you can’t stop yourself from getting up and trying to hug her. Of course, the wire wrapped around your leg manages to stop you, and you fall over. Your instincts kick in just in time and you void through the floor, before rising back up and becoming a physical object again.

“I didn’t expect you to show up.”

6ittersh9t:

==> He’s taking too long, and you were almost falling asleep on your own couch; either he’s making himself more desiderable, or wants to be punched in the face. The second one is particulary alluring, but you know yourself to lash out better.

==> You teleport over at his house, thinking that maybe he doesn’t care about you as much as he proclamed to, and the glitching around your hands returns due to rage.  Your look isn’t better either, due to dark shades under your eyes and your ribs showing, but those are masked under your sweater.

‘’Brad?’’

==> Your tone is monotone, and so is your voice, deprived of colors and intonations. Perhaps if he slides out of his hiding place running you may forgive him… but it’s a thing that it isn’t happening. You are already resignated to that. You’re resignated to many things.

The recent weeks of your life have been filled with this. You get an idea that might work as to how to fix the problems your team is having, and you distract yourself for hour after hour with pen and paper, scratching down ideas that just might work to get you and the rest of your friends out of this hellhole and into the new universe.

You’ve been writing with an almost dead pencil for the last half an hour and you’re so tired that you haven’t even noticed. Your thoughts are presenting themself on the paper before you as you ‘write’ them regardless. Now, to just… multiply that by six, carry the four, round to the nearest… god damn it. You toss the piece of paper aside and punch the desk, gripping your head in your hands afterwards and laying it on the desk, taking slow breaths.

It hadn’t even occured to you, in your barely-mentally-stable state, that Simon had even arrived.

Sorry for being late on replies today! I’ve been trying to distract myself from pain most of the day and have been on painkillers. :’(

I’ll do replies as soon as whatever the fuck is wrong with my neck/back sorts itself out!