𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍 ?

penny doesn’t respond at first. there’s too much swelling in her chest, too many words tangled somewhere between her ribs and her throat, too much that could come out wrong if she rushes it. she looks at drew — really looks — and it almost breaks her. because despite everything, despite the silence and the confusion and the ache that’s been her constant companion for the past two weeks, she still feels it. that pull. that unshakeable gravity that keeps drawing her back to this person no matter how many times she tries to build walls around her heart. “do you know how cruel it was?” she finally says, voice soft but shaking. “not what you did before. not the past. not the cheating.” a pause. her eyes sting, and she blinks hard, willing the tears to wait. “i’m talking about this. you just — disappeared. without warning. after everything we’ve been through. after all the work i had done to get to a point where i’ve been dancing around the idea of us again. letting you back in..  and i know it wasn’t about me or you trying to hurt me, not directly, but god, drew, it did.” her arms cross, more for grounding than defense. “i gave you space. because i thought maybe something had happened. that maybe you needed time. and i didn’t want to be the person who made it worse by crowding you. but every single day that went by without hearing from you — it started to feel less like you needed space and more like you’d decided i didn’t need to be kept. like you’d just… left. again.” she shakes her head, correcting herself. “no. not again. because you don’t do that. you don’t disappear. not like this. that’s why it hurt so much. because it’s not who you are — at least not who i thought you were anymore.”

"i don't know how many times i can say it." drew finally snaps. after penny's heartfelt confession, she can hardly keep it in. a thread within her severs. the last sliver of rope pulling taut and creaking until it unravels entirely. she's chewed on penny's words, tasted their bitterness and digested them. but as tensions rise, the bile comes up right along with it. all she can do is expel her boldest, innermost thoughts. "i'll be here, okay? i'll stay. i know i've fucked up. do you just like -- do you get off hearing me admit it?" drew circles the counter to create considerable space between herself and penny. the physical divide is certainly representative of the one that is blurring the line between them. the greatest point of contention between the two of them. penny's anxieties and drew's tendencies to toe the line between wanting to fix things and wanting to be free. it's not fair for either of them to be on this see-saw of opposition. then why can neither of them get off the ride? it may seem like drew is completely disregarding all of penny's concerns, that each and every syllable goes in one ear and right out the other. but they hadn't. instead every word ricochets off the walls of drew's mind like an idle dvd screen. and when one thought hits the corner of her brain, a new thought pops off. "obviously this all still matters to me, i wouldn't come back here with my tail between my legs every time if it didn't. we're both fucking battered and burdened. you're upset over what i did and what i continue to do. and i'm upset over what i've done and continue to do, it's a vicious cycle." the fridge door swings open and the blonde grabs the milk that is sitting unexpectantly on the door. she plops it loudly on the counter, the plastic jug sinking in on itself at the bottom upon impact. busy bodied, the girl walks over and fills the tea kettle as her thoughts continue to race. "what'd you say? i'm a hurricane. yeah -- i'm a hurricane. i come, i tear through the fucking place, and we try to rebuild and repair. you can either move away or get a raincoat and weather the storm --" the tea kettle is placed on the stove with a screech and the flame beneath it flickers to life. her voice breaks slightly as she raises her voice. "because i don't know how to fix me. i can make all the promises i want but i don't know how to -- god, i don't know. stop.. being a monumental fuck up?" the tea kettle is whistling before drew can even register how much time has passed. her frantic hands flip the cabinet doors open and closed, open and closed. she quickly realizes that she doesn't know where the mugs are anymore. how much has changed about this place. how once finding the mugs was second nature and now it's a disorienting quest. it become clear -- once things were so easy for them. as common as breathing. and now things had changed -- and this quest to get back to familiarity was a wild one neither of them knew how to navigate. tears are brimming the corners of her eyes as she cuts the heat on the kettle, utterly giving up on the search for the mugs. "i'm messy. i'm cruel. i make jokes. and i've changed and i don't know if it's for the better. i try to be honest. i try to stay -- i try to be here. but it fucking sucks to be reminded or everything i've done wrong.. every single time i look at you. and i'm not looking for your sympathy. it's entirely my fault. i love you. and you love me. but it's fucking destroying us."

it's all a little cinematic. the way the two of them talked about traumatic experiences and immediately after seemed to fall into flirting without missing a beat makes morgan breathe a laugh at her phone. tini's icon smiles back at her and she reads the last line of tini's reply. "what?!" she says out loud, a grin on her face. "scandalous…" morgan jokes to herself. "what if we both share?" her thumb taps the send arrow quick enough that she can't take it back, even if she wants to. thoughtless. the blonde has an arsenal of spicy photos, ones she rarely sends out. it's always a risk. she's made it through enough of her career without her nudes appearing online, and she doesn't intend for them to. for some reason, morgan feels the need to take a photo of herself now instead of a generic stock photo she has saved. an original -- for two reasons. the first, tini deserves it an individual photo for herself. the second, if tini ended up leaking her photos (she's hoping and praying her instincts are right and tini is, in fact, a good person) morgan would be able to tell who did it. her hands reach for the hem of her sleep shirt, tugging at the loose material and pulling it up over her head. it slips from her fingertips to the floor, revealing a navy blue lingerie set. it seems silly to be wearing something so nice by herself, but morgan spent enough time alone to know that sometimes she just needs to feel pretty to someone, even if it's herself. she poses on her bed, one ankle crossed over the other and snaps a photo in her vanity mirror. she's sure to keep her face out of the picture. the only telling detail remaining is a few tendrils of blonde hair on her shoulder. she presses the send button quickly, before typing, "just a taste."

the image that flashes across her screen causes her breath to hitch. tini is immediately shooting upright to observe the attachment in its glory. the pale skin shadowed by the night sky. the blonde hair that plays peek-a-boo makes her grin, a sliver into the identity of the person on the other end of the tether. the thrum of her heartbeat pounds against her rib cage and the trill of it all makes her gleefully smile. "tasteful." is all she can think to reply as she searches her mind for an idea of what could even come close to the ethereal image gracing her screen. tini rises clumsily from her head, legs quite defiant as her head is sent reeling. the redhead kicks off her oversized sweatpants and adjust her thong on her hips. they're a typical gray, from the target five pack pair. so she has to find a way to a make them suitable for the exchange. she hikes them up so the accentuate the curvature of her ass. looking over her shoulder in the mirror, tini silently deems it a success. a waterfall of auburn cascades down her back as she releases the teeth of her claw clip. she then slips her tank top over her head until she's just standing her underwear. the breeze makes self conscious goosebumps bubble to the surface and tini grins at the thrill. the camera app flashes across her screen and she holds the phone above her so the mirror can be seen at her back. the front facing angle is perfectly highlighting the jut of her ass in the full length mirror. she tilts the phone and presses her tits together with the help of her arm. cleavage pops up at the bottom corner of the screen. when the camera snap, tini can hardly recognize the body as her own. she send it before she can second guess herself. "all for you." drunk on the infatuation, the girl types. "i think you did it better, though. is it weird i'm just imaging what you look like behind that phone? don't get me wrong, definitely appreciating your body. but.. is too intimate to say i want more?"

♡ — closed starter for @gamecfchance.

she'd gone too hard last night. she shouldn't have trusted the blue tablet that some random man at the dive had offered her. she certainly she shouldn't have chased it with three shots of tequila either. headache reeling, maura can hardly keep her eyes open when she hears a rapid knocking on the door. there was only one person it could be, one person bold enough to disturb her slumber. maura wraps herself in a blanket cocoon and haunts her way over to the door, a ghoulish wash of color plaguing her features as she fears she might hurl. "bitch, shut the fuck up." maura remarks. she always mean she was tired. curls are spouting off in a million different directions, and maura can tell by the draft she's like showcasing a nip slip. "your present better be some intervenes electrolytes and an eight ball." the girl spins around and leaves the door open in her path before collapsing horizontally on the couch, face down in the pillow as she mumbles. "you're like the grim reaper. put me out of my misery."

open: m/nb | about savannah | pov: broken up, but can't seem to stay away.

the moment drew starts talking — actually talking, beyond the bullshit, beyond the deflections — something tightens in penny’s chest, pulling taut like a wire about to snap. it’s almost cruel, how easily drew’s honesty, her rare vulnerability, still manages to slip beneath penny’s skin, still has the power to rattle her when she’s spent so much time trying to build walls against it. but she’s always known this about herself — about them. that drew could make her want to scream one second and crumble the next. she exhales, slow and shaky, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes before letting them fall to her sides. she’s so tired. tired of worrying. tired of trying to make sense of the mess drew leaves in her wake. "drew…" her voice isn’t sharp anymore, not biting — just hollow. worn. "you disappeared. just — just vanished. and you know what’s fucked? i spent two weeks trying to rationalize it. trying to come up with some kind of reason that would make it make sense. blaming myself..  because that’s what i do.. i blame myself. for every mishap, i think i am the root of every problem.. and it’s fucking exhausting." her arms cross over her chest, but it’s not anger fueling the motion — it’s an instinctive, futile attempt to hold herself together. "and then you just walk in here, cracking jokes, acting like it’s nothing, and i — " her voice cuts off, trembling under the weight of it all. "i don’t know what you expect from me. do you want me to pretend it’s fine? because i can’t do that." drew clutches the pillow to her chest, and it’s almost too much to look at. the way she holds onto it like a lifeline, like if she lets go, she might just disappear again. penny hates that a part of her still aches at the sight. hates that no matter how furious she is, there’s still something inside her that wants to reach for her. "and look," her voice drops, quieter now, not quite as sharp. "i know it’s not my place to worry anymore. but fuck… and i know it’s not all about me."

drew’s hands tremble, unknowing if it’s from the weight of the confession penny has just laid bare or the excruciating clarity that comes with hearing everything penny’s been carrying. she's not ignorant to burdens she causes, the mess she leaves in her wake. but to be reminded of her shortcomings never gets easier. her chest tightens, suffocating her under the heavy truth of it all. she wants to speak, wants to apologize, to make it right somehow -- but the words feel too small, too useless in the face of what she’s done. instead, all she can do is look at penny, the rawness of the moment cutting deeper than any act of harm she could have committed against herself. penny's words are still ringing in her ears, each one heavier than the last, and drew can feel the guilt gnawing at her. it makes her want to bolt again. but she can’t. no more coward's game.

for a long moment, penny doesn’t move. she just stares. at the sheer audacity of drew standing there , draped in borrowed clothes that don’t fit , wearing that same infuriating grin — like she hasn’t been missing for two weeks. like she hasn’t left penny to spiral , to wonder, to reach for a silence that never broke. her heart is still hammering against her ribs , the remnants of panic still thick in her bloodstream , fourteen days of unanswered questions pressing down on her like a weight she can’t shake. and then drew starts talking — rambling , deflecting , making jokes about flounder and burner phones , like this is just another one of her reckless disappearances. like penny hasn’t been tearing herself apart over where she was , if she was even alive, and suddenly something inside her snaps. a sharp , humorless laugh punches out of her , brittle at the edges. "are you — are you fucking kidding me ?" her voice is quiet , but there’s something dangerous beneath it , something raw and frayed. two weeks. two weeks of radio silence, of checking her phone every five minutes , of knocking on doors and getting nothing but shrugs , and now she just waltzes in — grinning , joking , like it’s all some game ? penny moves before she even thinks , grabbing the nearest throw pillow and launching it at her. not hard. not enough to hurt. but something — because if she doesn’t , she might actually scream. "you — " she stops , jaw locking , fists curled at her sides. "you absolute fucking — " another sharp inhale , her breath unsteady , her entire body tight with the effort of keeping herself from completely unraveling. "do you have any idea — any fucking idea — what the past two weeks have been like ? you couldn’t have just — texted ? called ? hell , sent a fucking carrier pigeon ?" she’s breathing too fast. she knows it. feels the way her hands are shaking , the way her chest is rising and falling too sharply. she knows she’s letting the panic and frustration bleed through , but she can’t shove it down. not when drew is just sitting there , completely unbothered , sniffing her vanilla candle like she didn’t just disappear without a trace. penny presses the heels of her hands against her eyes , turning on her heel and striding into the kitchen before she does something she won’t recover from. because she knows drew. knows this is her coping mechanism — acting like nothing is wrong , like she hasn’t just put everyone who gives a shit about her through hell. and maybe , once upon a time, penny would’ve let herself be distracted by the theatrics. would’ve let the relief of drew simply being here outweigh the hurt. but she’s seen this routine one too many times to fall for it now. she grips the counter , sucking in slow , steadying breaths. if she says something now , she will regret it. because part of her , beneath all the frustration , wants to burst into tears — because drew is alive , because she’s standing in front of her , because penny doesn’t have to wonder if she’s lost her forever. after a few seconds , she forces herself to move. forces herself to walk back into the room , stopping in the doorway , leaning against the frame like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. her voice is quieter now , but there’s no mistaking the weight behind it. "are you going to tell me what happened," she says , gaze steady , expression unreadable , "or do you just want to pretend everything is fine ? because i may be a good actress, drew, but i don’t think i can do that."

it's not as though she'd expected a happy reunion. a running jump into her arms, milk maid gowns free flowing in the wind as they rejoiced. drew had expected the anger. but the delusional part of her brain, which was the part that was at the forefront these days, was silently hoping they could just skim past the anger. as a pillow collides with the back of her head, it's clear that they'll need to make a pit stop at i'm sorry station. "ow! i was holding a candle." a searing finger nestles between her lips and she sucks out the brief pain like venom. this does capture drew's attention, now completely facing penny who appears to be one lightning strike away from full-blown super villain fury. the power of their connection transcends what they are both willing to understand. it's frightening to some effect, how drew can instantly feel penny's agony crawling beneath her skin. infectious is how drew would describe it, but penny would likely describe it as empathy. she supposed that's where the two differed most. it was dangerous to drew -- and all consuming for penny, it made finding common ground far more precarious when one of them was trying to flee while the other was trying to cling.

♡ closed starter delivery → @gamecfchance