ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠

Simone Ashley for Burberry's High Summer 2026

god, sometimes it almost feels as if he lives for the moments he can successfully make jonas laugh — like it's some sort of coveted prize that very few people have ever learnt how to press the right buttons to receive. it brightens his features in an instant, stretching a grin back to his lips. “ i could rock his world. ” he hums as if considering the suggestion. “ maybe then we'll finally start to get some of our post on time. ” though charlie can't deny he's quite happy to be cut off from the rest of the world, the reminders of his old life in the city all a delayed and sometimes non-existent problem to deal with. the smile still slips from his lips at the retort, throat clearing softly as hands find comfort in his pocket. “ yeah. ” he agrees. “ sorry. i'll, uh — i'll chase them on it when we get back, remind them there's a deadline they've already missed, see if they can speed it up. ” even if the idea of the place has never felt like home, the one he's built in this town certainly not being in an empty house with nothing to go back to. he's already disrupted jonas' life long enough. “ you're aware you're exceptionally high maintenance, right? ” charlie does his best to return to the familiar joking, smile slipping back to his lips when it had never crossed his mind that jonas might be willing to help him lug a christmas tree back home through the snow. his attention shifts to the lights and sounds of voices ahead, brightening quickly at the sight of the makeshift huts in the middle of the square. “ wait — ” he hums, reaching for jonas hand to pull him back before the blond's able to race off in the direction of the coffee shop and heating. “ christmas market first, they'll have ornaments. ”

witnessing  how  the  smile  dropped  from  the  corners  of  charlie’s  mouth  almost  made  jonas  wish  he  could  take  the  words  back.  swallow  them  again,  squash  them  before  they  managed  to  slip  from  his  lips  and  rob  him  from  that  carefree  sense  of  contentment.  something  he  used  to  find  nauseating.  jonas  couldn’t  recall  when  the  absence  of  it  started  to  feel  nauseating  instead.    “  i  doubt  anyone  in  this  town  even  knows  about  the  concept  of  speeding  it  up,  ”    jonas  retorted  with  a  faint  huff,  remembering  his  first week  in  town,  waiting  over  an  hour  for  coffee  because  dorothy  running  the  downtown  cafe  was  too  invested  in  gossip  about  the  neighbours.  but  that  same  ease  of  pace  was  the  reason  he  preferred  being  here.  not  having  to  feel  as  if  the  world  moved  in  fast  forward  around  him,  while  he  was  so  caught  up  in  his  same  old  stories.  perhaps  the  deadline  would  be  put  off  once  again  until  after  christmas.  and  perhaps  jonas  didn’t  mind.    “  is  that  supposed  to  be  a  gotcha  moment?  ”    the  blond  let  out  in  something  of  a  sigh,  his  brows  creased  as  he  shot  a  look  at  charlie  over  his  shoulder.  now  he  wouldn’t  admit  to  it  verbally,  but  the  other  wasn’t  entirely  wrong.    “  i  think  it’s  only  fair  the  person  who  wanted  the  tree  so  badly,  gets  to  lug  it  all  across  town.  ”    jonas  then  shook  his  head  with  the  faintest  hint  of  a  smile,  feet  aiming  to  go  in  the  direction  of  the  cafe  before  something  warm  caught  his  freezing  hand  instead.  on  instinct  his  own  fingers  curled  around  it,  and  the  element  of  surprise  enough  to  make  him  follow  without  initial  question.    “  what’s  this  one  even  supposed  to  be?  ”    the  man  scoffed  a  little,  holding  out  some  oddly  shaped  ornament  from  one  of  the  stalls,  dangling  it  in  front  of  charlie’s  face.  conveniently  forgetting  he  was  still  clutching  his  hand  too.

he feels nauseous, like they're in a bad dream nate hah never realised he might need to be afraid of. it's been stable for so long, their relationship, the home they share together — it's only now that it suddenly feels as if it's always been made of cards, one strong blow enough for the whole thing to fall, and he's not sure which of them is about to cause it. “ i don't know. ” he exclaims, hands thrown by his sides in defeat. “ i don't know anything anymore, max — you don't tell me anything. ” where he's been. how he's feeling. what's going on in that beautiful head. once nate would have claimed to be an expert on it, could have read the expressions without the words to make sense of them. now he's just as shut out as the rest of the world, except it's worse, to feel so much distance when the other male still shares the space in the bed next to him. max doesn't have to be lying, he's not telling him the truth either. “ fine. ” he bites back, the glaring weight of the other male's gaze suddenly far worse than the absence of it nate was complaining about moments prior. “ you want an accusation? ” he shouldn't do it. max can go have his warm shower. he can heat up dinner. though they'll spend the evening apart, the faint noises of the other male stepping through the bedroom, his own faint murmur of tv until he eventually goes to join the figure already asleep in bed. some fragile home he doesn't know how to be a part of. “ i think you're done with this, ” words shatter the silence, mouth open and suddenly he can't stop speaking. “ i think youre done with me, you're just too much of a fucking coward to say it. ” he can't stand there any longer, not to meet max's gaze as his own words tear bullet holes in his chest. legs stride quickly over the living room, moving to grab the raincoat he'd discarded hours earlier. “ i'll make it easier for you. ” he's already moving to the front door, too afraid of waiting around to hear what max has to say. to learn it might be true.

“  you  don’t  fucking  believe  me  when  i  tell  you,  so  what  does  it  matter?  ”    lingering  frustration  bubbled  to  the  surface  with  those  words.  turned  the  blame  right  back  around  even  when  it  was  max  himself  who  posed  the  question.  but  nate  questioning  his  intentions  cut  deeper  than  any  other  words  could,  hit  harder  than  his  fists.  because  if  all  else  crumbled  around  him,  there  was  always  supposed  to  be  his  person  at  the  end  of  that  road.  who  knew  him  better  than  he  knew  himself  and  could  read  the  creases  in  his  forehead  and  the  tired  look  in  his  eyes.  so  why  was  he  reading  it  all  wrong  now?  staring  right  through  him  rather  than  straight  into  his  innermost  thoughts.  not  seeing  him  and  accusing  max  of  not  wanting  to  see  him  either.  the  seriousness  of  the  situation  did  not  even  settle  until  nate’s  feet  moved  across  the  living  space,  gathering  his  things  like  it  did  not  tear  him  apart  to  leave.  and  that  made  something  burn  inside  him,  blaze  from  the  tips  of  his  fingers  down  towards  his  toes.  and  the  heat  was  anything  but  comfortable  as  his  hands  balled  into  fists,  squeezing  hard  enough  to  cut  off  circulation  in  the  hopes  it  would  smother  the  flames.    “  fuck  you,  nate.  how  long  were  you  waiting  to use that  excuse?  because  you  can’t  fucking  wait  to  leave, can you?  ”    max  couldn’t  even  tell  the  tears  that  welled  in  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  too  overwhelmed  with  the  other  parts  of  him  roaring  inside  his  head  much  louder.    “  but  it’s  fine.  just  go.  i  can’t  seem  to  fucking  do  anything  right  these  days,  no  matter  what  i  do.  so  i might as well fuck this up too. serves me right, doesn't it?  go  find  someone  who’s  less  of  a  joke.  or  a  coward.  ”    he  couldn’t  look  at  him  anymore,  wetness  covering  his  cheeks  as  max  stormed  off  in  the  direction  of  their  bedroom.  but  instead  of  reaching  for  the  door  handle,  his  fist  connecting  much  too  hard  with  the  surface  instead,  leaving  a  hole  and  a  sharp  pain  shooting  throughout  his  hand unlike ever before. the saving grace being how the door swung open, allowing him to sink into the clean bed sheets, even when they provided no comfort.

he  pauses  for  a  beat  longer  than  he  should  —  reality  weighing  down.  the  phone  call,  being  her  emergency  contact,  seeing  her  in  a  hospital  bed.  and  the  worst  part  —  feeling  out  of  reach  even  when  she's  right  in  front  of  him.  "they  called  me,"  he  answers,  stuffing  his  hands  into  his  coat  pocket.  "said  you  had  me  as  your  ...  emergency  contact."  another  pause,  another  moment  of  silence  that  lingers  too  long.  “what  happened?”

the  artificial  hospital  lighting  made  him  seem  like  some  figment  of  her  concussed  imagination,  conjured  and  pasted  into  a  place  he  didn’t  quite  belong.  perhaps  it  would  have  been  simpler  if he was.  perhaps  aileen  could  have  allowed  herself  the  comfort  of  having  him  near  without  the  refusal  to  show  weakness  gnawing  at  her.    “  right,  ”    she  bit  through  gritted  teeth,  cursing  her  past  self  for  trusting  the  relationship  enough  to  change  the  contact  info. even  when  he  was  simultaneously  the  person  she  wanted  to  see  most  and  least.    “  most  of  it’s  a  blur,  ”    the  past  few  hours  nothing  more  than  snapshots of memories,    “  but  doctors told me  i  must have fainted,  hit  my  head  when  i  went  down.  ” nothing she would not recover from, and therefore plenty of reason for him to turn straight back around had he wanted to.

icy blue orbs flicker between hers that glare right back at him , and he can't help but chuckle a bit . he leans forward , meeting her in the middle . " you can pretend you don't all you want . but you're here for a reason , you could've walked away by now . " he points out , owen maintaining a smug grin on his face .

perhaps  she  could  have.  and  for  sure  she  should  have.  walked  away  that  was,  from  him  and  from  the  smugness  that  seemed  to  bubble  to  the  surface  the  longer  she  entertained  his  presence.  but  she  was  rooted  to  the  chair  opposite  him,  not  moving  an  inch.    “  what  would  be  there  to  miss?  ”    her  voice  was  quiet,  gentle,  almost  patronizing  in  a  manner.    “  your  glowing  personality?  the  mediocre  sex?  ”    the  blonde  shook  her  head  with  a  small  huff,  refusing  to  let  him  have  the  last  word.    “  it’s  too little too  late,  coming back  now  you’ve  figured  out  you  can’t  do  better than me.  ” @orb1ter

"looking  to  run  off  already?"  his  eyes  flicker  to  her,  leaning  back  against  the  headrest  as  she  pulls  away  before  he  even  has  a  proper  chance.  it's  not  as  if  zach  was  some  great,  morally  upstanding  guy.  but  after  a  few  months  of  hooking  up,  getting  a  little  too  cozy  in  bed  whenever  they  ended  up  in  the  same  town  —  maybe  he  wanted  answers.  closure,  at  least.  "yeah,  we  do.  look,  i'm  all  for  being  a  booty  call.  but  that  kind  of  shit's  got  an  expiration  date,  and,"  he  pauses,  counts  mentally.  “this  is  what?  seventh  time  in  the  past  six  months  you've  been  in  my  hotel  room?”

his  words  felt  like  a  low  blow,  even  if  that  didn’t  make  them  less  deserved  when  she  had  quite  the  habit  of  running.  from  home,  from  commitment,  from  a  version  of  the  truth  she  didn’t  like.    “  we’re  keeping  count  now?  ”    corners  of  her  mouth  pulled  into  a  grin  that  threatened  to  take  over  her  face,  had  she  not  swallowed  the  urge.  finding  some  sense  of  satisfaction  in  being  memorable  enough.  in  whatever  way.    “  doesn’t  the  clock  restart  on  that  expiration  date  every  time  we  say  goodbye?  we  make  the  rules  ourselves,  don’t  we?  ”    things  didn’t  have  to  be  difficult  like  that.  when  they  pretended  to  start  fresh  whenever  their  paths  crossed  again,  even  when  it  was  hard  to  deny  he  knew  her  better  than  anyone  now.  from  the  spot  behind  her  ear  that  made  her  melt,  to  exactly  what  triggered  her  flight  response.  no  amount  of  restarting  the  clock  made  them  forget  any  of  that.    “  unless  you’re  getting  bored  of  it.  ”

                    " my parents want to meet you, so you know what that means. stomach flu or gangrene? gangrene is definitely more serious, but stomach flu would be easier to pull off. "

“  ganwhat?  is  that  contagious?  ”    nostrils  flared  into  a  scrunch  of  repulsion  at  whatever  disease  genenieve  had  made  up  this  time,  as  the  umpteenth  excuse  to  cancel  dinner  with  her  parents.    “  this  might  be  an  unpopular  idea,  but  what  if  we  just  agree  to  see  them?  i  am  great  with  parents.  parents  love  me.  ”

                    " i don't see what the issue is. at least they asked me out. "

leo  thought  she  had  asked  her  out. countless of times.  tried  to  at  the  very  least.  had  told  her  she  had  a  spare  ticket  for  a  gig  the  following  week,  asked  if  she  wanted  to  come.  and  just  a  few  days  ago  asked  about  her  favourite  restaurant,  to  suggest  the  two  of  them  should  check  it  out  sometime.  maybe  she  hadn’t  said  the  precise  words,  but  wasn’t  that just a matter of semantics?  she  blew  out  a  defeated  huff,  holding  onto  her  last  shred  of  dignity  around  isobel.    “  there’s  no  issue.  i  guess  i  just  needed  to  make  sure  they  were,  you  know,  right  for  you.  ”

huffs out a breath, unsure of how to express his concern without defying her autonomy or absolutely shattering the image she has of him. of the person, and not the criminal. of the boyfriend — or whatever, complicated title they've given each other — and not the felon. “ i don't know how to tell you, ” a frustrating truth, followed by a shake of his head, gaze searching hers for understanding before it drifts. at her accusation, warranted but false, calloused digits reach for her hand. “ leo ... no. i promise you, it's got nothing to do with that. ”

frustration  gnawed  at  her,  wishing  to  know  the  truth  before  her  mind  would  continue  to  spin  stories  about  what  it  could  be.  who  it  could  be  he  was  seeing,  even  if  he  rushed  to  deny  that  presumption  as  soon  as  it  slipped.    “  and  you  can’t  try?  ”    she  wanted  to  trust  him,  would  have  trusted  him  blind  had  he  not  given  her  such  a  halfhearted  excuse,  that  made  the  doubts  creep  in.  leo  let  him  take  her  hand,  the  warmth  of  his  palm  closing  around  her  comforting  as  much  as  it  made  her  feel  nauseous.    “  what  else  is  so  bad  you  can’t  even  tell  me  about  it? what am i supposed to start thinking?  ”

he wasn't going to admit that he knew the exact number of days since he'd last seen her, not when it seemingly hadn't crossed her mind. he didn't need to make it any more clear that he can't play it cool. “ yeah ? is everything okay ? ” genuinely cared, but tried to bite back the worry in his tone. “ i — yeah, sorta. it's felt quiet around here. i actually had to work. ” he attempted a playful grin, but it felt more like a grimace.

“  yeah.  of  course.  all’s  fine,  ”    were  the  words  aiming  to  shrug  off  his  apparent  concern,  her  head  shaking  almost  a  little  too  furious  in  her  attempt  to  be  casual.    “  noah  reached  out  again.  and  we’ve  just  been  talking  about  things  a  lot.  ”    the  same  noah  that  broke  it  off  weeks  ago  because  he  wasn’t  sure  what  he  wanted,  now  insisting  he  knew  for  sure  what  he  wanted  all  along  was  her.  it  messed  with  her  brain,  even  more  so  when  sitting  across  from  warrin.    “  i’m  here  now.  and  i  do  require  constant  personal  service  from  my  waiter,  ”    she  jested  in  the  most  lighthearted  tone  she  could  muster,  dipping  one  of  her  fries  into  ketchup  before  popping  it  into  her  mouth.

                    they were both so fundamentally different, it was perhaps no surprise that their relationship didn't, couldn't, last. june was ever practical, tobi was ever emotional. " inflate its importance? " she repeats, practically huffing in disdain. " do you often kiss people without meaning anything by it? how do you just turn your emotions off like that? " the accusation isn't entirely fair, the fact that they even lasted as long as they did is probably proof of that, but it sure did feel that way. that tobi was always the one on the brink of collapse, always desperately clinging on, always begging to be noticed. " if i actually did mean something to you at point, prove it. "

once  more  june  couldn’t  seem  to  get  through  to  her.  couldn’t  tell  her  the  right  thing,  what  she  needed  to  hear  to  understand  this  was  the  only  way  it  could  be.    “  i  don’t  make  it  a  habit  to  kiss  people  who  could  end  my  career.  both  our  careers,  quite  frankly.  it’s  hard  enough  needing  to  see  your  face  plastered  all  around  the paddock every  single  day.  ”    there  was  a  frustration  bubbling  to  the  surface,  having  little  patience  left  for  tobi’s  emotional  side,  for  tobi’s  almost  idealistic  side.  even  when  watching that side of her was making her fall in love with it all over again too.    “  if  me  doing  the  hard  thing  for  both  our  sakes  isn’t  proof  i  care,  i  don’t  know  what  is.  ”

                    " i never claimed to have a high pain tolerance, " comes words coated in a sullen pout, one that causes her to flinch because that hurt too. she didn't have a high pain tolerance. she was easily frightened, reckless and cried inconsolably after every kill. despite all that, seeing milena in what she perceived was trouble made her jump into action like she not all of those inconvenient shortcomings. " i didn't want anything bad happening to you! " the protest is a little louder than perhaps strictly necessary. " and thanks to me, nothing did. don't i get a thank you? "

one  hand  moved  to  cup  her  jaw,  the  pad  of  her  thumb  rested  against  her  cheekbone  to  stop  her  from  flinching  as  milena  continued  to  patch  her  up.  paying  little  mind  to  her  protests.    “  and  you  don’t  think  i  could’ve  handled  the  situation  myself?  ”    came  the  immediate  rebuttal,  questioning  and  almost  accusatory  gaze  sent  in  mica’s  direction.  even  if  she  didn’t  quite  mean  it.    “  right.  where’s  my  eternal  gratitude?  i  would  know  a  way  or  two  to  thank  you,  but  from  how  much  you’re  jumping  around,  i  think  you’re  too  roughed  up  to  handle  it  right  now.  ”

❝   i  do  things  without  her.   ❞      he  says,   but  he's  frowning.   (   if  he  has  trouble  conjuring  up  an  example,   that's  classified  information.   )     then,   as  if  spontaneously  processing  the  entirety  of  her  remarks,   ❝   —   what  do  you  mean  all  of  you  are  thinking  it?   cut  me  some  slack.   i'm  lost  here.   ❞

mason’s  halfhearted  protest  just  earned  a  knowing  stare  from  manon,  eyebrows  creased  into  a  doubtful  frown.    “  like  what?  she  pouts  so  hard  she’s  near  tears  when  you  leave  to  get  her  a  drink.  ”    she  wanted  to  gag.  but  at  the  very  least  she  respected  her  best  friend  enough  to  stifle  the  urge,  in  the  hopes  she  would  get  through  to  him.    “  none  of  your  friends  like  her.  she  keeps  inviting  herself  to  everything,  and  we’re  sick  of  it.  she  wants  your  world  to  revolve  around  her,  and  clearly  you  don’t  even  see  it.  ”