ANGEL / DAMNED.

“Yes, but only because I love you.” She grins, nudging Raven a little with her arm. “You have to let me live vicariously, now I’m destined to become a spinster. Besides, you know I’m happy you have someone you can go lots of places with.”

     michael didn’t mean to end up at raven’s house.  showing up without warning was risky enough during the day, let alone at 2 AM.  but he hadn’t been able to sleep and rather than sit in bed, scrolling aimlessly through twitter, he decided to go for a drive.  no destination in mind.  it isn’t surprising his subconscious led him here, though.

     after a few minutes of debate, he unlocks his phone.

( text to: rae! 👑 🖤 ).  are you awake? ( text to: rae! 👑 🖤 ).  i’m, uh… outside. in my car.

          she’d lied about taking                   her  meds  for  the  fourth  night  in  a  row  earlier.   raven  believed  that  it  was  better  not  to  sleep  at  all  than  to  sleep  without  dreams.   still,  that  banishes  her  to  a  night  of  staring  at  the  ceiling,  waiting  for  something  to,  for  anything  to   -   the  ping  of  her  phone.   it  surprises  her,  but  not  as  much  as  the  message  she’s  received.

He’s there by virtue of the brunette near the bar, and her uncanny ability not only to track him down, but also to read him for filth when it comes to the girl currently occupying the stage at the Gaslight Café.

James doesn’t move to sit down, but rather he lingers near the back of the room. The tables are fairly packed, and finding a seat at one would mean taking his eyes off her, which is something he’s really not willing to do. She’s luminous - she’s beautiful, and he’s completely entranced.

He gives her a moment with her friend once she’s finished her poem and left the stage to warm applause, and a wry comment from the club’s emcee about her being a rare example of why they keep doing these poetry nights - she’s talented, not like the self-indulgent poets who make up most of the rest of the bill. 

Midge notices him first, offering a quick grin before indicating that Raven should probably turn around. When she does, he finds his own smile becoming decidedly brighter.

“Hi.”

      she uses the breath she                   takes  before  she  begins  each  evening  to  do  a  lot  of  things.   the  audience  only  sees  the  surface   -   the  feet  planted  apart,  the  head  tilted  down  slightly,  the  eyes  fluttered  shut   -   but  they  can’t  hear  anything  but  a  quick  inhale.   that  inhale  holds  a  thanks  for  midge,  because  without  her,  raven  wouldn’t   BE   onstage  at  all.   it  also  holds  a  small  prayer  that  she  won’t  stumble  over  her  words,   and  a  quick  reset  of  her  body.   in  that  one,  fluid  moment   -   raven  sheds  the  insecurity  from  her  skin  so  that  she  can  occasionally  use  it  in  her  poetry.

    and when she begins,                    whether  it’s  with  a  smack  of  the  ground  as  she  hits  it  running  or  a  single,  steeled  statement   -   it’s  something  to  marvel  at.   from  there,  raven  spreads  her  wings  for  a  few  sacred  minutes.     afterwards,  she  opens  those  wings  to  midge,  pulling  her  into  a  tight  hug  as  she  squeals  about  the  emcee’s  compliment.   no  matter  the  praise  she  receives,  it  surprises  her,  and  raven  is  convinced  that  the  night  can’t  possibly  get  any  better.   not  until  she  turns  around  -

“I’m here to escort you to poetry night at the Gaslight. Unless,” She’s clearly teasing her now. “You’ve had a better offer from a certain boy…?”

HOLDING HANDS IS LOWKEY EXCITING.  ;   ACCEPTING!   ;   @seizingdays 

HOLDING HANDS IS LOWKEY EXCITING.  ;   ACCEPTING!   ;   @wontbelame

HOLDING HANDS IS LOWKEY EXCITING.  ;   ACCEPTING!   ;   @wontbelame

        young lady in white stands                   before  them  clutching  fistfuls  of  her  skirt,  drinking  in  a  sight  that  she’s  dreamed  of  for  a  long  time.   there  is  someone  in  front  of  her  saying  that  they  love  her.   there  is  someone  before  her  filling  in  a  part  of  her  heart,  replacing  fantasy  with  reality,  and  yet   -   a  dark  eyebrow  is  quirked  up  in  skepticism.  i  love  yous  don’t  scare  raven  falco.   she’s  been  betting  on  i  love  yous  since  bedtime  stories.   no,  i  love  yous   confuse   her,  especially  now.   she  doesn’t  have  the  best  role  models  when  it  comes  to  relationships.   her  parents  don’t  exchange  i  love  yous,  and  for  a  simple  reason,  one  that  she’s  aware  of:   her  parents  do  not  love  each  other.   and  she  doesn’t  know  what  it  looks  like,   the  romantic  kind  of  love  they’re  proposing.   if  they  were  not  themselves,   maybe  she  could  grasp  onto  those  three  words  a  bit  easier.   but  raven,  who  has  grown  considerably  just  through  knowing  them,  can’t  find  anything  tangible  to  cling  to.   not  yet.   not  while  they’re  still  stuck  on  the  idea  of  who  the  other  could  be  to  them.