❀Comme les pétales❀

Formal greetings 

Fairytale creature's 

Old diary post

Miscellaneous blog tags

Gif Hunts/Potential Faces

Wanted Plots/Idea's 

Theme Recs

He spent too much time on that rooftop. Between late night sketches on his iPad, knitting when absolutely no one was around, and always having one too many cigarettes - he frequented that roof like a goddamn gargoyle. It used to be his time alone, his time to reflect, but that had begun to change. Strangely enough, it was a welcomed change. With a cigarette in his lips, he smirked when she approached him. It was true - he had failed her. He hardly remembered to keep food in his own apartment, let alone these late night talks. She linked her arm with his, and he wished he could say he had grown used to those simple gestures, but he hadn’t. It took him back to another time, but again, he welcomed it. “I have cigarettes,” he joked, blowing the smoke to the side so it didn’t interact with her. “That’s about all I ever have to offer.” He finished his own before tossing it on the ground and extinguishing it with the bottom of his old converse. A laugh leaves him and he shakes his head at her. Her music journey was an interesting one, though he couldn’t help but feel a bit victorious like he was slowing winning her over to some genres he enjoyed. “I love that you’re just now discovering The Shins,” he snickered. “I always liked their song Simple Song. It sounds like it comes from a movie. Or their most popular song New Slang. Zach Braff made that song popular as hell back in the day with the movie Garden State. Have you ever seen it?”

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As the topic of cigarettes arose, a subtle wrinkle formed on her nose. Although she had not yet expressed her disapproval of Connor's smoking habit, she was contemplating doing so in the near future. Being quite opinionated, she firmly stated, "Anything except those," hinting at her aversion to cigarettes. Meanwhile, her stomach grumbled in protest of all the talking and lack of eating. Raising her head, she observed Connor extinguishing his cigarette and found herself drawn to his response regarding music, following his gaze with newfound interest. 

With narrowed eyes, Imogen points at Connor, a grin spreading across her face as she recognized his snicker. “I know that snicker, its the ‘Connor's been trying to tell Imogen that his music isn’t trash’, snicker.” she suddenly deflated and let out a laugh, “Well you’re right and I hate it. There, I said it.” In a playful manner, she poked his side and rested her head on his shoulder, a smile on her face. “I have heard simple song. That sounds like a song you’d like. It’s giving main character youtube playlist vibes, and I can see you being said character.” She teases. 

At the mention of Garden State she takes a moment to think. “Is that the movie with Natalie Portman?” She ask. “I haven’t seen it or heard the song new slang. I was trying to avoid the popular songs so I don’t come off as a poser.” She chuckles. “But since Connor approved I’ll have to listen to it.”

With one quick glance, it was clear his home was beautiful. Her curiosity killed her, but she only managed to sneak one or two glances (three, if she was being honest). Instead, she focused on the view outside to distract her wandering eyes. The ocean swelled in the distance, seagulls cawed, and the seaside breeze felt good on her skin. It was everything Chey loved, which ultimately caused a small bit of jealousy to run through her. She couldn’t help it. She wondered if she’d ever settle down into a home of her own, perhaps something like this one day.

As soon as Adam returned, the jealous pang disappeared and was replaced with a growing  warmth. She was happy for him. She was always happy for him. A smile spread on her lips and she was quick to help him offload everything in his hands with a small laugh. “You only have water but you manage to have a platter of snacks ready. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Picking up a small piece of cheese, she popped it into her mouth and chewed with a closed lip smile. She let out a soft but dreamy sigh and looked back to the ocean. “I can’t believe you get to wake up to this. I could kill you, y’know.” She snickered and took a swig of the water before gesturing to him to take her on the tour. “Alright, Mr. White. Show me the way.”

.

As he raised his hand to speak, a hint of apprehension flickered across his face, and he paused mid-sentence, his thoughts momentarily scrambled. He struggled to come up with a valid excuse for not having any refreshments to offer, and instead let out a light-hearted chuckle while scratching his beard. "In my defense," he began, his voice trailing off as he realized the futility of his words. "Well, I did have some drinks last night, but I stayed up working on a project and got really hungry. I ended up eating most of the food I had," he explained, his fingers hovering tentatively over the tray of finger foods before finally settling on a cracker, which he broke in half.

 "While I was eating, I completely forgot about our plans to show you around today. So all we have is water and a few snacks," he added, flashing a sheepish grin as he nibbled on his cracker. "But if you want, you can come with me to the store. I'm not trying to brag, but I make a pretty mean loaded baked potato," he offered, his garrulousness betraying the fact that he had only had five hours of sleep the previous night. He paused briefly to savor the taste of the cracker before reaching for another.

His eyes watched Chey; he could tell she was enjoying the scenery. This was far more her kind of lifestyle. She definitely fit the look for it more than he did. At times he wondered if he looked more like a bum than any handsome beach guy hanging out in the sun. He was bearded now, his hair was layering out into some lob, and he smelt less like leather and musk and a lot more like sea and sandalwood. It was interesting. He laughs to himself in thought until she speaks.

 “Make sure to stab me so I can talk between each thrust to tell you how jealous you are of my new life.” He says, laughing. With one more glance at the ocean, he steps back and gestures for her to follow him. His home had two levels, starting with the main level. He showed her his kitchen, which led towards the back patio and ocean view. He then showed her his half bathroom, living area, and guest room before taking her up to see his messy art room, office, ironically clean bedroom, second bathroom, and empty space, which he hadn’t decided on what to use it for. 

Leaning against the door frame, he folds his arms. “Again, welcome to my humble abode. Here is the part of the house that, for months now, I haven’t decided what to do with it. I guess it’ll come to me.”

As Imogen approached Connor, loose gravel crunching beneath her open-toed shoes resounded in her ears. Despite her previous resolution to avoid footwear that would allow rocks to wedge themselves between her toes, she found herself removing tiny stones from her insole by dumping them out while steadying herself with a firm grip on Connor’s shoulder. “Please tell me you have a snack or something edible with you?” She asks, large brown eyes looking over him. “I remember you saying something about next time we met up here unintentionally; you’d make it worthwhile.” As she delicately links her arms around his, Imogen feigns a look of disappointment and rests her chin gently upon his shoulder, “You’ve failed me.” Imogen had grown used to the sight of him perched atop the rooftop, gazing up at the starry 3 a.m. sky and taking in the cool, stagnant breeze. Over time, it had become a familiar routine for her, and she embraced it without hesitation. “There’s this song, my brother’s been getting on my last nerves with. It’s called caring is creepy by the shins, which ironically fits him.” Rolling her eyes, she then gets to the point. “Anyway, I said all that to say. I think I’m a shins fan.”

He held two glasses with a steady grip, balancing them in one hand while carrying an assorted tray in the other. He wanted to avoid making another trip and get to Chey before she could explore his place without a proper tour. However, he wouldn’t mind if she got a head start. He enjoyed changing from his usual penthouse apartments to this oceanfront beach setup. With a grunt, he pushed open the sliding door using his elbow and peered inside. “Alright, I’ve got some water. I know, not much there, but I have this charcuterie board to offer along with my face.” With a smile, he carefully places the objects on the end table. He takes a deep breath of the salty ocean air, stretches his limbs, and runs his fingers through his hair to tidy it up. The unfamiliar yet refreshing breeze feels comforting, and he enjoys the sensation.

“I’d like to welcome you to my home formally.” He takes a step back, outstretching his arms. “I know I’ve made you walk through the house first to get you outback. That’s my bad.” He says, chuckling softly. “It’s a backward tour, but a tour nonetheless.”

Oh god, she was going to make a big deal out of this. Imogen always seemed to obsess over the idea of Chey and Adam, even without knowing every detail. Imogen stared at her and she stared back, a kind of pleading look that said ‘please don’t make this weird’. Chey turned and gave Adam a reassuring smile. She didn’t know why she felt suddenly nervous, almost as if she was introducing a boyfriend to her parents. Instead, she was introducing a complicated friendship to Imogen. “If she gets weird, just run. I don’t blame you,” she joked quietly before they approached the table. Chey moved away from Adam to go over and greet Imogen properly. She pulled her into a tight hug and smiled. Before letting go, she whispered in her ear, “Be. Cool.” 

Pulling away, she smiled at Adam and looked between the two. “Imogen, this is my friend Adam. Adam, this is my friend Imogen.” Friend seemed like a bad title for the both of them. There wasn’t a word to describe what Adam was to her, and well, Imogen these days felt more like a sister. Before she could get another word out, somebody bumped into her arm. 

Connor approached carrying two drinks before bumping his arm into Chey’s to get her attention. “Hey, blondie,” he told her. The two had just seen each other a few days prior, so there was no real need for a proper greeting. Connor turned and looked at Adam, already getting an idea of who he was and remembering him faintly. He knew a bit about the fall between Chey and Adam, only after getting drunk with Chey one night during a songwriting session. If only that man knew the amount of songs Chey wrote about him. Though Connor knew he should give the guy a chance, he always felt himself leaning towards disliking him. “Who’s this?” he asked, bluntly. 

Chey elbowed him discreetly and caused Connor to jump a bit. “Connor, this is Adam. You’ve met him before at one of our shows.” It was ages ago, but the two were no strangers. She knew Connor just wanted to fuck with him. Connor cleared his throat and nodded. “Right, right. How’s it going?” He sat down one of the drinks in his hands in front of Imogen. Suddenly, Chey couldn’t help but realize how awkward this all was. Two people who were never in a real relationship and two other people who were no longer in one together. What a bunch of misfits. 

.

Adam was amused. His facial features hadn’t dropped. This may have been the most excited he’s been about meeting a friend. Probably due to the fact Chey’s anxiety levels flew through the roof over said friend. He chuckles softly, furrowing his brows, “You make her sound like a basket case. What are we? The Breakfast Club?” he snorts but quickly suppresses it as they begin approaching the table.

She’s grinning before meeting Chey in a tight embrace. BE. COOL. It rings through her head, and for a moment, she’s unsure if she should be offended that she thought of her as anything but. That was a discussion for another day. Sure, Imogen’s excitement could be a bit … bold. But, if anything, she livened up the place, turned the bleak and bland into fun and funny. Imogen was every bit cool, unfortunately, she was also brazen. Big brown eyes observe Adam; before she can get a word out, Connor makes his queue. She’s about to pull at his pants and grab his attention to let her speak, but the drink he places before her keeps her at bay for a moment. Besides, from the corner of her eye, it seemed like Chey’s elbow was enough. She cups the drink in her hands, a small smile faint on her lips. She takes a sip of her drink and is surprised he remembers what she likes. A dirty martini. With him stepping in and ruining the first introductions. That Be Cool thing was starting to feel like it should have gone to him first.

Adam’s not surprised at the way Connor approaches him. Honestly, he would have forgotten who he was as well, seeing as he hadn’t made too many appearances after the first. It was like being sized up by a little brother. An annoying one, at that. He smirks, “It’s going. But I’m actually more interested in meeting Imogen. Since we’re already acquainted with.” He looks back at Imogen, stepping aside to get a better view of her. “Please.” It’s not meant to be rude since he technically was speaking to Imogen first. He wouldn’t mind reintroducing himself to Connor and getting to know him. But he’d have to wait his turn.

They took the steps slowly, and the blonde couldn’t help herself but to chuckle under her breath as they dramatically took each step. She nearly toppled over in her heels as she attempted to truly take one big toe at a time. It seemed like he slipped his hand into hers just as she was needing that extra balance. She didn’t even notice his hand was in hers at first. It felt just as simple as breathing - something she needed, but never thought about. “If we go any slower, I’m gonna end up sliding down,” she told him through a small laugh. 

Wouldn’t save it for anyone else. Now her stomach was back in knots, her mind painfully aware that she needed to breathe and that his hand was in hers. He had such a hold on her that simple words like that truly ruled her. They touched the bottom steps and their intimate time together had come to an end. She looked back up the steps and then at him. “We could go back to the top and down again. Consider it cardio,” she teased. But their small bubble around them had popped and it was time to get to the party. 

Chey stepped forward and opened the door to the event room. Music and laughter disturbed their quiet moment and she was suddenly in a room with a sea of familiar faces. Again, it always took a moment to adjust to the real world when she had time alone with Adam. It always felt like the two of them. Just then, she spotted a familiar brunette and smiled to herself. Imogen sat at a table and once the two made eye contact, Chey gave her an ugly expression as a playful form of hello. She looked back at Adam and smiled, though she knew this was likely going to be awkward. Imogen knew a little bit about how she felt for Adam. “I want you to come meet my friend,” she told him.

.

Imogen’s face lit up at the sight of Chey. But not without a playful gesture of her own. Her fingers lifted in V-shape towards her mouth, her tongue out before she winked. Leave it to Gen to feel comfortable in her skin wherever she went. And while her excitement was evident, her brown eyes couldn’t help but notice the elephant in the room. The bearded man she had alongside her. Imogen wasn’t an educated detective, but she could put 2 and 2 together. And this man oozed some charm. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself, but the only man Chey turned to mush for was the only man she knew so little of, yet so much about. 

She chased Chey’s eyes to get her attention, squinting them and shifting them towards Adam and back to Chey again. She’d know that look; she’s done it many times when she grew curious about who always nabbed Chey’s engagement. PRINCE CHARMING. Oh, how she hoped she was right. It was the only logical guess. If she brought any other man, Imogen’s positive she’d know about them already. This one, like some ancient relic, was special. If Imogen weren’t so unsure, she’d probably confront him herself.

And like that, the moment was gone but not forgotten. To Adam, that felt like the most normal they’ve been since reuniting, and ironically it did feel good. Whenever it was just the two of them, things just felt right. He was sure their best memories were always between the two. It would make Adam a complete fool not to see Chey always had it better in his life when he kept her from his. He didn’t care about any of his family anymore, but he knew how much he cared for Chey. Since meeting her, Adam knew he would never be able to see his life without her and had almost gotten a taste of it was enough for him never to make that choice again. She was his best friend, and he loved her deeply. It may have taken a bump in their relationship for him to finally get it through his thick skull. But he knew now more than ever that he would work hard never to lose her again.

A bit too honest - just one of Cohen’s many flaws. That and the fact that almost every comment he made sounded sarcastic when in fact it’s just the truth. Dropping the whole dead mom fact was likely not the best move at a speed dating event, but he supposed she didn’t run away just yet. He let out a small laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah,” he attempted to calm her worries down, although it was a lie. He quickly tilted his head to the side and chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, no it’s not a joke. I’ve had a lot of years to adjust, it’s fine. You can laugh. I have a habit of saying inappropriate things, so here we are.”

.

It wasn’t a joke, he says. It doesn’t soothe Wynona’s guilt for laughing but only makes her want to shrink down and hope to God not to end up in hell. So, she takes a bigger gulp of her drink before wiping at her mouth and looking at him slowly. “A-A habit? Well, you’re not boring.” She chuckles awkwardly. Weirdly not looking for the next seat to jump in to get away from him. That said a lot about her; she wasn’t sure how to take it. But that was something to think about on another day. “So—” She starts but shakes her head, “Okay, I don’t know if I can move past that right now.” She laughs again, pressing her glass against her lips and closing her eyes momentarily. “Please, say something else until I find my last working brain cell.” But, eventually, she does, waving her hand. “You know what? I don’t think we exchanged names, did we? We just went straight for the kill.” She says and then holds her hand out, prompting a formal handshake. “I’m Wynona, and I’m here because one of my best friends thought it would be hilarious to sign me up for this.” She shrugs. “Turns out it is but in the least offensive way. I mean, thanks to you being a freak and all.” Ah, word vomit. It sounded mean, but it was endearing. At least, she knew that was the feeling behind it. “I mean, not that you’re a freak in like, a bad way? And I’m digging a myself into a bigger ditch aren't I?”

Chey nudged him at his teasing and chuckled under her breath. The things she and Austin talked about truly were titillating, but she wasn’t ready to admit to him that he had been the subject of her entire day. It frustrated her to no end that Adam still had such an iron grip on her. It’s not like her feelings for him disappeared after they called their spontaneous elopement off. They didn’t change for him even when she convinced herself that he never really felt anything more than a platonic love for her. In fact, she feared they would never change now. 

Would it be like this forever? Both wishing to be far away from him and craving a closeness like they had now. The woman was in a battle of head vs. heart, but at the end of the day, she’d always give in to be near him. Chey peered up at him when he admitted to getting things off his chest with Frances. She gave a half smile, both sympathetic and disappointed. Chey used to be the person he could tell anything to. Now they hardly had talks like that. Again… Would it be like this forever? 

“I’m glad you got to talk to him,” she told him. She smiled faintly at him and nodded her head. “I’m always interested.” And it was the truth. She could watch him draw a stick figure and she’d be interested. He’d always reel her in with just about anything. It had always been that way. 

When he suggested the long way, she couldn’t help but smile more. It’s as if he read her mind. She was always craving more time with him these days and never got enough. Even if it just added a minute to their time together. “Of course.” They walked to the stairs and her mind began to wander. She imagined what it would’ve been like if this had just been a trip they took together - no wedding, no friends or family, just the two of them. It felt ironic that she had that same thought at the last wedding they were at. Chey looked at him as they walked and she felt herself suddenly blurt something she didn’t even realize she wanted. “Save me a dance tonight?”

.

“Yeah?” His brow rises, somewhat surprised by her answer. Although he hoped she’d agree, he wasn’t expecting her to. He relaxes his features and nods, “Okay.” He says softly, eyes watching her for a moment before looking elsewhere. “Frances, yeah, he’s uh, he’s a good man for sitting around listening to me be moody.” He adds, chuckling under his breath. He cocks his head, a slight smirk turning up the corners of his lips. “Huh, I guess I’m turning into a real artist. Can’t be creative if not internally fucked.” They both take strides down the stairs, and not even halfway down, Adam nudges her.

“Hey, we’re moving a little too fast down these things.” He smiles, “One big toe at a time, Johnson.” He takes his black leather oxford and slowly steps down, tugging her arm closer to him, demonstrating how literal he wanted the long way to go. His actions could be a joke, but the determination ridden on his face would say otherwise. Either way, without much thought, he’d gone from the formal arm-in-arm to hand-in-hand. It felt natural, at least to him, so the realization hadn’t hit him yet, not until she spoke up. They were just a few steps from the bottom, his eyes glancing at her. “Wouldn’t save it for anyone else.” gesturing with his head and squeezing her hand gently, he pulls her into the direction of the event.

He hadn’t thought much about tonight, what it meant, and the kind of memories it triggered. But, this felt like a better start from the dripping wet entrance he had made alongside her. As embarrassing as the memory was, he was glad it didn’t involve Adams’s life or any of his shenanigans this time. And, importantly, nothing that could hurt Chey. “Guess we made it.” He says, staring at the door where they’d be going for the night. “...We could take one small pinky-toe step if you wanted.” He’s joking, squnting his eye and gesturing with his fingers how small of a step they could take. He laughs, mostly at himself, and the fact he was almost tempted to give it a try. “Anyway, ladies first.”