𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 / 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺

        he nods at her words, brows furrowing as he takes in his chaotic surroundings, cautiously stepping over stray toys. ace looks from his surroundings to the girl of interest, busied with asking questions he was used to hearing when visiting a friend. not the response of someone who his lips were locked with moments prior, with expectations for the impromptu chaos to proceed past the hallway, through the kitchen and eventually into the bedroom. instead, ace swings his arms at his sides, blinking slowly at her query.    “ you do know that i’m not a neighbour you’ve invited ‘round to borrow some sugar, right ? ”     he feels a slight pang of regret from being so forward, though still confused by how polite and considerate she was being. but, god, he wasn’t remotely interested in waiting for her to choose a glass, and slowly pour him a drink, whilst time was being wasted.    “ when are you gonna’ cut the pleasantries ? ”    ace continues to tease, before he opens his mouth again, hoping to say her name, though, not confident he knew it, instead he immediately presses his lips shut.    “ or, do you really need to take things slow ? ”

closed starter for @pvrachute !

        “ don’t use my fight with her as a reason to bring her in. i’m not gettin’ involved in any snitching activities. ”    she concludes with defiance, arms folding over her chest tightly. the care, the overwhelming worry present in his features makes her stoic front almost falter, regret aching at her raw knuckles. she wants to find a way to apologise without that fateful word leaving her lips. instead, she settles for    “ i shouldn’t have caused a scene . . . ”    and hangs her head low, but still, adding a light roll to her eyes, to mitigate appearing to feel intensely about the ordeal. she’s not used to this, someone desiring to look over her, at least, not without an ultimatum in place, or eventual betrayal. she still awaits the latter. she absentmindedly taps her cheek, and looks at her finger, pleased that blood hadn’t broken the surface.    “ i’d say with us, it was less of a pounce and more of a ‘ why does she look so hot bent over a cop car ? ’ situation. ”    she laughs with satisfaction at her quip, eyes full of pride.    “ it’s fine, though. i’m more concerned that you’re not gonna’ want to kiss me anymore. ”    she gestures towards her face, in a circular motion of her hand, the minute damage to her face causing her some anxiety. she strayed away from physical altercation, aware that although her mind was well-equipped for carrying out complex drug transfers, she couldn’t protect herself, even in a one-to-one situation. the rarity of the occurrence stands out, making her seek reassurance in ways she isn’t proud of.    “ talk about frankenstein’s monster. ”

       “ i mean, i’m happy to pretend i need protecting if it means i get to have you lookin’ after me. ”    she smirks, afore letting the freshly poured whiskey coat her tongue. furrowing her brows, torrance looks at him earnestly. she hates seeing him like this, so broken, dejected. she resists the strong urge to lean forward for a tight embrace. instead, she nods slowly at his words, lips turning to a frown.    “ oh —— i’m sorry, j. ”    she responds lowly, loosening one hand from the crystalline glass she held, to briefly squeeze his thigh.    “ parents are the worst. ”    she pulls her hand away, concern transforming into hope, as an idea flows into her mind.    “ i know exactly what’ll cheer you up. ”    torrance chimes confidently, hopping up from jackson’s sofa to retrieve her phone, fingers typing frantically. music begins to play from her phone, and her face alights, slow movements as she spins to the tune. she couldn’t decipher whether it was a torrance-ism, to have a sudden idea and run with it, or it was the alcohol slowly hitting her bloodstream, but she continues swaying to the sounds, before reaching forward to grab both of jackson’s hands, from his seated position. she places them both at her hips.    “ dance party for two ? there’s a nine outta’ ten chance that i won’t remember how terrible you are at dancing if you ply me with enough to drink. ”

        “ oh, lucas, yeah ? ‘course. ”    leo scoffs, a childish tantrum in full swing. he doesn’t miss a beat before continuing.    “ you mean the guy that follows you around like a fucking lost puppy ? ”    he was being vindictive now, unnecessarily, insecurities almost reaching the surface. leo didn’t think he was a good boyfriend ( or, whatever title you’d give their relationship ) and he didn’t believe he could ever be : his careless, unpolished nature serving him no favours, in comparison to the successful, purposeful men he saw. he looks at georgie momentarily, mind flooded with sole thoughts of how he was undeserving of her affection.    “ now, you listen to me. ”    leo remarks pointedly, now giving up on focusing on packing his belongings, line of sight focused on hers.    “ if you don’t think that he’s eventually going to want to be more than you’re friend, you’re either delusional or lying to me. ”    he doesn’t raise his voice, only speaks slowly, a disconcerting calmness to his tone. he views georgie as careless, no regard for the potential for their relationship to be judged and dissected by the press, but a part of it was rooted in paranoia, and paranoia alone.    “ i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come to my next shoot. spend some more time on lunch dates with lucas, and i’ll see you when i get back from paris. ”

        “ justin, i’m so —— ”    sayen begins, a futile attempt at an apology, interrupted by the rising of his body, sending her cognisance into immediate flight mode. she wishes they would sit there, she could explain how, and why, she let him touch her. exactly why she lied, and how his touch did nothing to her in comparison to justin's.    “ fucking hell. ”    she hastily slides out of the booth, wide, messy steps tracking after the male, both hands reaching forward to grab onto the back of his shirt. forcing her petite body to stand firm in front of his, she frantically holds and grips at his chest, his neck, his face, all in a continuous cycle, whilst pleading. desperation scratches at her throat, threatening to break. she wasn’t remotely prepared for his brash reaction, unaware of the ease at which her disloyalty visibly could get under his skin, that passionate anger. she dismisses the thought, but a fraction of her mind is consumed by the evident power she held over his emotions. it was twisted, wrong and cruel to relish in such power, but it was that power she craved, in all walks of her life.    “ look at me, look at me. please. ”    the panic is tangible, only rising when she temporarily looks back at her temporary beau, his eyes tacked onto the dyad’s antics.    “ look at me, baby. ”    she repeats for the third time, hands now roughly settling on the sides of justin’s countenance, trying to force his gaze on hers, breathing harsh and fast.    “ don’t, i can fix this  .  .  .  all of it. let’s go, now. ”