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@loyaldeserter
may activity check: passed!
skill points: 24->25 (monthly)
axe: B(1)->B+
obtained: event reward tbd
public thread tracker
if you have a thread with heath and it isn't on here, please let me know! i've done my best to round up everything, but some threads may have slipped through the cracks.
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[ SPILL ] It splashes everywhere when Bruno runs into someone in the dark, flooding the air with the sweet scent of fruit and the sound of shattered porcelain. A glance down at his own clothes — it isn't obvious, the stain of tea against black fabric — but then back up toward the other with a soft frown atop his lips.
"My apologies," he murmurs, reaching down to pick up a shard of the cup. "It's a fruit tea — but I'd watch your step around before it burrows itself into your shoe."
Clink, and another shard is picked up.
Heath fully expects the smell of alcohol upon collision, but instead is met with the earthy, fruity aroma of tea. He narrowly avoids the shards of the teacup upon stumbling back, thankfully avoiding any other ballgoers in the process.
"Ah, no worries. It's bound to happen at an event this heavily attended." Heath crouches down himself, carefully plucking a particularly sharp piece from the ground. His gloves may not be graded for combat, but they're protective enough, and time is of the essence when it comes to things like this. "My own choice of footwear might protect me, but others may not be so lucky. Just give me a moment."
It's quick work with two sets of hands, and by the time they rise Heath can't help but feel a level of camaraderie with the man.
"Did you suffer any lacerations? I know the way to the medical room, if so." Heath himself has avoided bleeding, though a tiny shard did breach his glove. It's impossible to see, thankfully, as Heath extends a tulip to his unexpected companion. "Regardless, I hope your night hasn't been affected too badly. I should have been more careful with where I was going."
[ SLIP-UP ] - As it turns out, a lot of people at the monastery make for great body doubles in the dark. What do you do when you slap a friend on the back only for you to find out when they turn around that it's not your friend at all?
There are many people with long blonde hair at the monastery, and in the light of the ballroom it is easy to make mistakes. Still, Heath flushes in embarrassment as the man he flags down is in fact not the one he'd recently shared a dance with. Still, the flower he offers is good manners, at least?
"Ah, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else." Making things worse is the fact that Heath's not been accidentally called upon at all through the night, his hair and build distinct even in the cacophony. It's fine, though. It is. "Not that I'd rescind this. The more the merrier, right? Flower-wise, I mean. And it could apply to meeting people as well, of course."
...this is why Heath sticks to the margins for the most part.
don't think that i need to keep running from a dream
toa ball 2026 | heath & legault
Energetic dances turn to slow waltzes while the night winds down, but Heath finds himself more wound up than ever as he wanders the ever-thinning crowds. The longer he goes without finding Legault, the heavier the orchid in his bouquet weighs and the sillier the plan Serra set out for him feels. He’s a grown man and so is Legault. Surely they’re beyond such juvenile gestures.
(As if they haven’t danced around it all for an unreasonable amount of time. Figuratively and literally, if you take into account last year’s ball. As if Heath's pulse doesn't quicken at the mere thought of doing anything more than that this year.)
Maybe it's karma that he finally catches sight of Legault while in the midst of these thoughts, caught completely and utterly off guard.
Legault always cuts a striking figure, but Heath's never quite seen him like this. A sheer blue shawl drapes over his shoulders, beneath which he wears what appears to be a black dress. Purple sleeves match a fabric collar that emphasizes the generous neckline, and the skirt flows gracefully with each step he takes. Heath’s frozen in place, his mouth slightly open with a sigh that never came to be. It's only when Legault turns his way that he's able to wrest free and begin his approach.
"Legault." Heath isn't generally one for eye contact, but he doesn't know where else to look without making a fool of himself. His heart pounds in his throat, and he fumbles uselessly for the orchid and a tulip of his own, stubbornly refusing to lower his gaze. "You're here."
You're beautiful.
@katabatiic your move gayboy
[ SEQUESTER ] - Some rooms remain unused, and while by the padlocks on their doors you suspect they are meant to remain that way, some poor sap seems to have forgotten to make sure they were locked properly. They make for an excellent space away from the chaos of the rest of the ball—though you may not be the first one there.
It's all fun and games until Hugh remembers that he's supposed to be doing something of a job here. Mainly, it's just keeping an eye on things to make sure things aren't going into complete and utter chaos - but it would have probably helped to have known in advance about the lighting! Still, when he wanders about the halls, he can't help but notice that some of the rooms that should have been unlocked are definitely not.
Should he do anything about them? Maybe, if it means a higher pay at the end. But, maybe he can take a look inside, first. Definitely not because he needs a break or anything.
Hugh strolls on inside. The noise outside is mostly blocked thanks to these walls, and it's a nice, quiet break from the music. He's about to take a seat, however, when he spots someone else here.
"Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?"
What Hugh should be doing is dragging the person out of here, but he's too busy taking a break himself to consider that.
Heath's tolerance for social activities may have increased in recent years, but he still has his limits. A small storage room provides blessed reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the ball's main floor, and the chair he finds isn't half bad, either. He breathes deeply, enjoying the open window's gift of cool night air while nursing a glass of wine.
"Oh! No, not really." He's not the only one who's noticed these spaces, it seems. At least it's not a pair of lovebirds or a mischievous student. Probably, at least. He thinks he recognizes the man, from some kind of mission...? His hair is a distinct shade of purple--not the one Heath's on the lookout for, but familiar enough that it gnaws at him. "Just resting for a bit."
He tilts his head back, eyes briefly fluttering shut before thinking better of it. There's still time left in the night yet, and he'd rather not sleep it all away.
"I've had a good time, don't get me wrong. But it all gets to be a bit much without a break, you know?" The young man's accent is familiar, too. Almost...Ilian? Had they taken a mercenary contract together, perhaps? "I should probably get back soon, but I won't bother you until then."
They sit there for a moment in silence. Heath had said he'd leave the man alone, but he can't quite shake the feeling. Absently, he fidgets with the flowers in his bouquet, finally removing one as he rises.
"A token for your time, if you'd like." It's a little duplicitous, but Heath does want to give him something, and it's in the spirit of it all. And of course, before he turns and leaves the room together, he just can't help it. "Forgive me for asking, but are you from Elibe, perchance? I don't know if we've met before, but your accent is familiar, is all."
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[ SHAVED ICE ] - Served with a wide assortment of sweet, fruity syrups. Traditionally, it is served in bowls, but some are saying it makes for quite a refreshing sip when drank from a glass.
Heath's found himself a comfy nook to the side of the dance floor, nursing a drink the students seem to be describing as a 'slushie.' He can't quite place the blend of fruit--something tropical, perhaps? It's an easy thing to focus on, especially when his nerves stand on anticipatory end if he thinks too much about the night as a whole.
"Huh? Oh, hello Dorothea." It takes him an embarrassingly long couple of seconds to recognize that a friendly face has sidled up to him. A social and popular student, even the young songstress needs a break from the action as well, it seems. "I hope the night is treating you well."
Absently, Heath notes Dorothea's well-stuffed bouquet. Is there a tulip in it? He can't quite tell from here. His focus, however, is drawn to the glass in her hand, filled with the same slush concoction. She's even chosen the same syrups as Heath, if his eyes don't deceive him.
"Are these flavors local?" Another sip. Is there some kind of berry mixed in here? Setting his drink down on a nearby table, he fishes out a particularly bright yellow tulip, a small smile playing on his lips. "Give me a hint for one of these? Or, well, you can have it anyway. I'm just curious. We never did quite have flavors like this in Bern."
"aw, are you sure? we could've had fun with it!" she laughs, tucking his tulip into her neat arrangement. "besides, i'm no stranger to earning my share."
dorothea's fingers hover over her own bouquet, drifting from one flower to the next before she settles on an orange one to offer heath. "i'm not exactly sure about the others, but the red flavor is. you've tasted it before in the dining hall." the tulip is held out to him, and once their little transaction is complete, the songstress lays her collection to rest on the table to retrieve her cup. "noa fruit. they've added more sweetness to it."
"i thought this one was albinean berry," she says, pointing her spoon at the coral-colored stripe drizzled over the ice, "but it's slightly off. maybe they've mixed another flavor with it?" then, bringing her utensil to hover over the splash of blue: "your guess is as good as mine on this one. would they have ever served anything like this in bern? different flavors aside?"
"Who's to say we can't still have fun?" Heath chuckles, his spirit light with merriment and mischief that comes so easily in Dorothea's presence. "I get it, though."
Ah, that makes sense. He should have guessed the Noa fruit, it's obvious now that he takes another bite. It seems like the both of them are stumped now, though, even with Dorothea's superior local knowledge.
"Kind of? Bern's a mountainous country, and I'm from further up the steppe than many. But one of my favorite desserts was this syrup we made from wild berries." Heath nods before taking another spoonful, swishing the flavor in his mouth before continuing. "It's not as sweet as this, but compared to most of our , it might as well have been ambrosia. If you were rich or it was a special occasion, you had it with fresh cream or dessert yoghurt, but we usually drizzled it on snow."
It's been a long, long time since he's had such a treat. Sometimes he'd been lucky enough to find similar jams on traders back in Elibe, but it's not since he was last welcome home that he'd had the real thing.
"What about you?" It's not something he wants to dwell on, especially not while the mood still runs so high. If Dorothea notices his pause, he hopes she will let it pass. It's his turn to inquire, after all. "I've never asked where in Fodlan you're from. Do you have this, or something similar?"
Call Serra many things — discreet is not one of them. When she spies Heath, she pounces upon him with the sort of energy a cat pounces upon their prey with. Even if Heath has wings, she holds them down easily with her paws.
“So, um. Hi, first of all.” She smiles. Serra looks different. Intricate black dress, black make-up, dark red lipstick, bold smile— ah, no, that last one’s regular. But. There’s confusion in those gorgeous amethyst eyes. “Why are you standing here in a corner and not with that thief man?”
(She knows Legault’s name. She’s spent tons of time with the two of them, actually. But don’t worry about that right now.)
“Heath, are you being hopeless again?”
With a sigh, she fishes out two orchids from her very full bouquet.
“This one,” she says, holding it up and putting it in his hands, “is for you, from your dear friend Serra, who you love oh so much. And this one,” she holds up and puts it before his eyes, somehow holding it like a wagged finger, “is from you, to that boy you like. Stop being pathetic.”
Ah, look at her. Her good deed for the day. Depositing that flower into his hand, she kisses him on the cheek.
“Byeiloveyougoodluck!”
Heath's enjoyed a quiet evening, lurking at the edges of the action while taking in the festivities at his own pace. He's always been aimless when it comes to formal events, but in such a pair-centered environment as this, drifting is the natural path.
It was all bound to come to a screeching halt at some point, but man, did it have to be her?
"I--what?" He sputters, his cheeks turning a brilliant crimson as his brain catches up with his ears. This is all way too much at once, as things with Serra tend to be. "Firstly, a hello would be nice. Secondly..."
It's not like Heath's been avoiding Legault or anything. He's kept an eye out, roaming half in search of the man, but he wasn't even sure he was here to begun with! He'd tried asking casually about Legault's plans for the ball, but that had yielded teasing moreso than a solid answer.
"So he is here, huh?" It's Heath's own fault he'd not followed up on that, though, and he knows it. He sighs, the tulip he hands Serra feeling like a formality more than anything. "I'm not..." Ugh. He hates when she's right. "...you don't have to put it like that."
But she has, and she does once more. Heath's silence is damning.
(His eyes scan the crowd she disappears into with renewed vigor, but among the sea of varied and vibrant hues, no purple is quite cool or pale enough.)
[ FLOWER ARRANGEMENT ] - No matter how many flowers you gather, your bouquet won’t look its best unless you have the skill to make it so. A couple of students have taken upon itself to imbue their peers with the knowledge of flower language and the art of flower arrangement, and as a result the garden has become something of a workshop.
Mark didn't even ask before he stuck his hands into heath's bouquet. He just skittered his way up to the wyvern rider and began arranging the flowers. He had a strong suspicion that Heath himself wasn't the sort to really focus on something like this, but also that Heath wouldn't particularly mind. He deserved to look as presentable as possible, and if Mark could help with that, it was his duty to do so. With the flowers properly sorted, Mark ended by taking a lily from his own collection and slipping it into one of the button holes of Heath's coat.
"There," Mark sang, a clear look of satisfaction on his face. "Much better. I hope you don't mind. Um, hi, by the way."
Heath doesn't necessarily lack decorum, but the finer details of fancy balls and gatherings tend to escape him. He's adjusted his suit, fiddled with his flowers, and overall feels presentable, but many other ballgoers are polished in a way he just can't quite grasp.
It's not really a problem, per se. Just an observation, and something he might explore in the future.
...within the next moment is technically the future, and Heath isn't the one doing the exploring, and--
"Wha--?" Heath's instincts scream at him to retaliate to this invasion of personal space, but he's not planning on making a scene. As he freezes up, the individual continues their work, nimble hands sorting through the various flowers in his bouquet and even those accenting his outfit. "What are you...wait, Mark?"
Oh, okay. That's Mark. Mark is here, at the academy, at this ball. The young strategist who led them to victory, those years ago. Heath doesn't know him incredibly well, but the bond between Bernese defectors is a unique thing, a port in a lonely and dangerous storm.
That is to say, Heath is happy to see him again. It's just a lot.
"Some warning would be appreciated." Heath sighs, offering an awkward smile. No use in staying frustrated, and Mark's friendly eccentricity disarms any lingering malaise. "Thank you, though. It does look a lot better."
The lily resting on his coat is white as the snow that covers the peaks of their homeland stark against the darker material of the fabric. It only seems natural that he offers Mark a tulip of a similar color, and in an attempt to return the favor, he reaches to tuck the flower...uh, not a lot of great options on Mark's outfit, there. Behind his ear will have to do? His hands are bigger and clumsier than the strategist's, but this is the path he's committed to. The petals are only a little bit smushed when he pulls away.
"I can, uh. Give you another if you'd like. I just thought I'd...well, you know. Return the favor." He chuckles, nervous and poorly stifled. This is about how their interactions tend to go, as far as Heath can remember. It's oddly comforting, in a way. "Hello as well, by the way."
[ SHAVED ICE ] - Served with a wide assortment of sweet, fruity syrups. Traditionally, it is served in bowls, but some are saying it makes for quite a refreshing sip when drank from a glass.
Heath's found himself a comfy nook to the side of the dance floor, nursing a drink the students seem to be describing as a 'slushie.' He can't quite place the blend of fruit--something tropical, perhaps? It's an easy thing to focus on, especially when his nerves stand on anticipatory end if he thinks too much about the night as a whole.
"Huh? Oh, hello Dorothea." It takes him an embarrassingly long couple of seconds to recognize that a friendly face has sidled up to him. A social and popular student, even the young songstress needs a break from the action as well, it seems. "I hope the night is treating you well."
Absently, Heath notes Dorothea's well-stuffed bouquet. Is there a tulip in it? He can't quite tell from here. His focus, however, is drawn to the glass in her hand, filled with the same slush concoction. She's even chosen the same syrups as Heath, if his eyes don't deceive him.
"Are these flavors local?" Another sip. Is there some kind of berry mixed in here? Setting his drink down on a nearby table, he fishes out a particularly bright yellow tulip, a small smile playing on his lips. "Give me a hint for one of these? Or, well, you can have it anyway. I'm just curious. We never did quite have flavors like this in Bern."
2026 ethereal ball -- heath tracker
Heath isn't a particularly social person, but Garreg Mach's festivities have been enjoyable thus far (despite complications), so here he is. He doesn't have an official date, but there is someone who might as well be. Maybe he'll try to make it official, once they find each other. Who knows?
His floral-themed outfit matches the ball quite nicely, though this was entirely unplanned. The compliments draw more attention than he'd like, but he's more amenable to them than when he first arrived in Fodlan. And hey, maybe it'll help him fill out his bouquet, for which he has been assigned Tulips.
Flower Tracker
Rose: Elffin Orchid: Hugh, Serra Lily: Mark Hyacinth: Bruno Tulip: Dorothea
fit tbd but here's last year's drawn by Maddie! as mentioned before, there are more floral elements incorporated, including the precious necklace legault gave him with pressed bernese flowers in the pendant. he has a purple aster in his hair.
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housekeeping - may 2026
hey folks! i've been meaning to do this for a while, but the new activity rules really kicked my tail into gear re: organizing my threads and dropping older ones. due to health issues, school, and general procrastination, i've let a fair few threads fall to the wayside. i need to start fresh, and i apologize to anyone i've held up for too long. i'm hoping that this will help me get less buried under the stress of so many owed replies and start having my muses live in the present!
without further ado, here's the state of my active threads on heath. i'm in finals hell right now, but hopefully i can put up a plotting call soon.
officially dropping:
this (kinda) happened to my buddy karel w/ @senerist
this is what happens when you're not allowed to watch dragon tales as a kid w/ @warpaway
so turn and face me for my sake (you could save me if you come around) w/ @senerist
my turn (might drop older threads, but want to see how i feel):
oh uh, don't mind me w/ @egittae
wyvern stables hangout w/ @ninisdance
your uber driver can rate you too btw w/ @serraic
One-Eyed One-Horned Flying Green People Eater 🐉 w/ @wingboundwarrior
boy am i glad that he's out there and we're frozen in here and i just remembered- w/ @katabatiic
their turn (thank god there's one lol):
the true test of a man's grit is if he's gonna go to the hospital or stand there & aura farm as he internally hemorrhages w/ @katabatiic, @inserviceto, and @wingboundwarrior
to current partners, please let me know if you'd like to talk to me about any of these threads, whether it's to drop or otherwise! when i drop, i do like to talk about whether we're keeping the contents canon, and what happened after if we do.
something the sun left behind
mauvier & heath
Mauvier says he understands almost too readily. He seems to realize this, but does not retract it as he continues--Heath does not doubt that there is truth to his words. Weight, too, heavy enough that it chains his gaze downward.
"I am and I am not. There's no denying that I am considered a traitor in the eyes of the crown. But to my morals, to the people of Bern..." He gives Mauvier a grim but genuine smile. Their eyes are quite similar, he notes, both in color and what they carry. "Thank you."
There's a silence, after. Hyperion seems content, what with the abundance of attention he's receiving, but Heath knows there's words yet unsaid. To leave them there would be easier for both knights, likely, but Heath has never taken the path of least resistance.
"You say you understand. And I believe you." It is Heath, now, who does not lock eyes, looking to the sky. Wyvern squires flit in the distance, mock battles and attempted tricks bringing the dull ache of nostalgia. "You need not tell a man you just met your story. But Hyperion is a good judge of character, in my experience."
Mauvier follows Heath's gaze skyward, watching the trajectory of the students practicing controlling their mounts. Lately, he's been giving the occasional thought to trying out flying himself; he considers the bond between Heath and Hyperion, wondering what they must look like together, soaring and synchronized.
Hyperion does not act like a creature bound by necessity of survival. In such a short time, he can see how close the pair have become, knowing well that kind of bond doesn't form overnight, or in idyllic conditions. The blood they must have shared together, the grief...
All the same, Mauvier daydreams about harnessing the kinds of techniques he watches the squires perform. The vantage he'd have from the sky would certainly be an upper hand...
He's become lost in his thoughts again. Mauvier offers a little smile, still scratching errantly between Hyperion's horns. "If that's so," he says, "that says much about you, too. I'm glad we've met, Heath, and I hope to work with you in the future."
It feels untoward to leave him like this, especially with Hyperion seeming to take such a liking to him. "Ah, is there anything else here I can assist you with?"
There's a wordless understanding, a silence interrupted only by Hyperion's snuffles and the occasional clang or growl from above. Heath thinks he'd quite like to train with Mauvier in the future, and the man echoes this out loud. Kindred spirits, indeed.
"I suppose I cannot deny that without calling my judgement into question. Or, worse, Hyperion's." Heath lets a smile crease his face, chuckling as the wyvern perks up at his name. The weight of everything is more easily born with a companion to carry it. "I'd like that as well. Perhaps we could learn from each other."
Two knights clad in armor, a hefty wyvern by their side--it should be an imposing scene, but it's quite pleasant. Hyperion leans into the brush, his scales shining in the sun. The excuse of cleaning has long since been abandoned, but enrichment is important too, Heath supposes.
"Hmm. Well, I was going to take him out for a flight--" Hyperion whines, seemingly aware of the potential disruption of his bliss "--but we did go pretty hard yesterday. I'll give him a little break."
Satisfied, Hyperion twists, angling himself just right for sunbathing. If he's spoiled, it's surely Heath's own fault.
"Nothing else at the moment, then. Though, if you'd like to continue giving him company...I doubt he'd mind."
thread end
february and march activity check: passed!
skill points: 22->24 (monthly x2, knowledge gem)
flying: B+->A
axe: B->B(1)
obtained: Hunting Whip, Focused Strike, Trample, and Alert Stance+.
heart in a headlock
Nino & Heath - continued from here
Nino's heart immediately soars, hearing that Uncle Legault really is here. She wants to cry out: Yes, please, take me to him right away! I've missed him so much, is he well? Does he ever talk about me?
But...she bites her tongue, remembering what Uncle had said to her last time they'd met. This life is not for you. You’ll be much better off without me…If you’re around, you’ll only slow me down.
"Ah, that's okay," Nino says, tamping down all of her emotions like jumping on an overstuffed luggage case. "I guess if I see him, I'll see him. He probably doesn't...wanna be found, anyway. I'd only make it harder for him."
She smiles, staring at the ground, praying that the setting sun hides the grimace just beneath. Should she...look for him? Would Uncle only be mad if she did?
She should know better than anyone, that things can't go back to the way they used to be.
"Please don't tell him you saw me," Nino adds, quieter than ever. "Just...take care of him, okay, Heath? Oh, by the way...how's your wyvern?"
A little flutter of pride overtakes her despair. Nino is an expert at changing the subject.
@loyaldeserter
The fraught journey of emotions on Nino's face is difficult to watch, her following words moreso. Heath more than most understands what motivations Legault may have for pushing Nino away, but in his opinion they're misguided at best.
"Nino..." What should he even say? He knows he's going to have a word or two with Legault when he next sees him, but how is he going to comfort Nino? Heath is a man of action moreso than words. "Hyperion is well and gluttonous as ever. He'll probably remember you, if you're ready to be covered in wyvern slobber."
Just go along with the conversation. Yep. Ugh.
"You know, I think Legault cares very much for you." Heath can't leave well enough alone. Especially with a sad little girl in front of him. Sometimes Legault really makes him want to wring his neck. Just a little. "That's probably why he's avoiding you. Doesn't want you to face the dangers he does. Which is kind of stupid in my opinion, given both of you are Black Fang, but that's just how he is."
Heath sighs, shaking his head. Nino asked him to take care of her beloved Uncle, and he can't even dispute that. Maybe part of taking care of him is some tough love, though.
"Do you want to see him? Be honest."
[ TXT ] : are we ever going to talk about it?
[ TXT ] : your skincare routine? your dietary regimen?
[ TXT ] : there's no way you just wake up with skin like that haha! unless you're me :)
[ TXT ] : i don't know what else there is to talk about. i use soap and water. nothing special just normal body wash. don't really have a brand i stick with, just whatever smells good and is on sale.
[ TXT ] : i don't think there's anything special about what i eat either but i guess i could send you my grocery list?
[ TXT ] : correct me if i'm wrong though but i thought you did have a skincare routine?
[ TXT ] : not saying you don't wake up like that i'm just a bit confused. when we shared that weird airbnb you had a lot of products you were recommending to saber.
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[ TXT ] : Have you seen the news?
[ TXT ] : I shouldn't be doing this, but we come from similar places, so I feel I owe you what little chance the warning may offer.
[ TXT ] : Your friend should get out while he can, and if you intend to remain around him, you'd do well to be careful about it.
[ TXT ] : i appreciate the heads-up. i don't disagree.
[ TXT ] : you should be careful as well, you know.
[ TXT ] : maybe this doesn't mean much coming from me. but i'd feel wrong if i didn't say something.
✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑵𝑬 . ( a collection of texting prompts. feel free to change phrasing. potentially mature content within. )
[ TXT ] : why are you still awake?
[ TXT ] : hey, where did you go?
[ TXT ] : it's getting bad again.
[ TXT ] : guess i'll just sit in bed. alone. by myself.
[ TXT ] : you can't ignore me forever.
[ TXT ] : i can't stop thinking about you.
[ TXT ] : just saw i called you last night. how'd that go?
[ TXT ] : i really need someone right now.
[ TXT ] : we need to make plans asap.
[ TXT ] : have you seen the news?
[ TXT ] : you were blackout drunk.
[ TXT ] : testing to see if you blocked my number...
[ TXT ] : do you know anything about doing stitches?
[ TXT ] : just please let me know you're okay.
[ TXT ] : did you forget we had plans?
[ TXT ] : i know you see my messages, your read receipts are on.
[ TXT ] : meet me at [ location ], it's important.
[ TXT ] : do you need comfort, to vent, or a solution?
[ TXT ] : is there anything i should bring?
[ TXT ] : call me. please, it's important.
[ TXT ] : i can't sleep.
[ TXT ] : have you eaten today?
[ TXT ] : you are always going to be my priority.
[ TXT ] : i haven't seen you around in awhile.
[ TXT ] : i had a dream about you last night.
[ TXT ] : the names are gonna get mean if you don't text me back.
[ TXT ] : at the risk of sounding cliche, what are you wearing?
[ TXT ] : just say the word and i'll drop everything.
[ TXT ] : do you seriously not remember?
[ TXT ] : come to the front door.
[ TXT ] : have you been drinking?
[ TXT ] : how do you feel after last night?
[ TXT ] : are you up? please be up.
[ TXT ] : you looked beautiful today.
[ TXT ] : i have so much to tell you.
[ TXT ] : no one's heard from you. are you okay?
[ TXT ] : who is this?
[ TXT ] : are you taking care of yourself?
[ TXT ] : thought i'd reach out and see how you're doing.
[ TXT ] : i miss the taste of your lips.
[ TXT ] : that kiss was really nice.
[ TXT ] : stop acting so high and mighty.
[ TXT ] : i left my [ item ] at your place.
[ TXT ] : are we still fighting?
[ TXT ] : i need help and i can't go to the hospital.
[ TXT ] : are you thinking about me too?
[ TXT ] : call me, i wanna hear your voice.
[ TXT ] : i don't want to talk to you.
[ TXT ] : what do you have to lose?
[ TXT ] : you don't have to ask, i'm already on my way.
[ TXT ] : i want to take a nap on you.
[ TXT ] : even if you called 6 months later at 3am, i'd answer.
[ TXT ] : what's my name in your phone?
[ TXT ] : how's trying to forget about me going?
[ TXT ] : i have nobody else to ask.
[ TXT ] : what do you mean you're at the hospital??
[ TXT ] : sorry, i think you have the wrong number.
[ TXT ] : good morning! you up yet?
[ TXT ] : do i sense sarcasm in your tone?
[ TXT ] : you start your day at 2pm?
[ TXT ] : you need MY help?
[ TXT ] : stop texting me.
[ TXT ] : i'll leave that up to your imagination.
[ TXT ] : are you asking me to sneak out?
[ TXT ] : when will i see you again?
[ TXT ] : if you come over, i'll order us a pizza.
[ TXT ] : are we ever going to talk about it?
[ TXT ] : can you come get me out of here?
[ TXT ] : you mean like ... a BODY - body?
[ TXT ] : it's just been one thing after another lately.
[ TXT ] : forgiving and forgetting is harder than it sounds.
[ TXT ] : i want your legs wrapped around my head.
[ TXT ] : call me when you wake up.
[ TXT ] : what are you doing that's more important than me?
[ TXT ] : i'm out of town right now.
