𓃹

                               ❛      i'm     sorry     about     your     floor,      ❜      says     as     water     drips     from     soaked     attire,      a     result     of     the     unfortunate     storm     she     had     just     gotten     away     from.      and     instead     of     hopping     into     her     cozy     bed,      beneath     a     pile     of     blankets     she's     collected     over     the     years,      she's     here      —      stupid     of     her     to     leave     behind     apartment     keys     that     are     probably     long     gone     now.      ❛      again,      thanks     for     letting     me     crash     here.      i     can't     cook,      but     i'm     great     company.      ❜

 　　　　a peace offering in the form of terry cloth towel, offered from his grasp to hers. he leads them past narrow hallway and halting only when they've reached the doorframe of his bathroom. the lighting overheard flickers, the sputtering glow of it doing nothing to conceal the way he glances at her once over. ❛ i'll cook for us, electricity permitting. it's not exactly my definition of a candlelit dinner, but i'll make it work, ❜ he jests, palms finding purchase on the console table behind. ❛ i'll get you a change of clothes if you're fine with my old practice shirts ⎯⎯ wanna first tell me how you managed to lock yourself out in a squall? ❜

                                had     expected     that     jab,      didn't     expect     for     it     to     sting.      he     knows     he     deserves     it      —      he's     the     reason     for     most     of     his     own     sorrow,      the     other     part,      he     blames     her.      and     continues     to,      as     the     jewel     on     her     digit     nearly     blinds     him:      one     that     replaced     his     promise     ring.      ❛      it     was     stupid     of     us     to     make     that     promise.      we     both     knew     it     would     have     ended     this     way      —      or     worse.       ❜      but     did     he     want     it     to?      had     enough     time     passed     to     perhaps,      rekindle     and     carry     on     to     see     how     the     rest     of     their     relationship     blooms?      the     questions     linger     throughout     his     reverie.      the     only     answer     he     knew     for     certain     was     that     not     enough     time     had     passed     to     erase     the     love     he     had     for     her;      but     he     still     regrets     his     decision     to     come.      he     thought     that,      maybe     seeing     her     like     this,      glorious     in     her     gown,      that     it     would     be     easier     for     him     to     move     on      —      it     wasn't.      ❛      i     showed     up     to     let     you     know     that      …      ❜      that     he     still     loves     her?      that     a     day     hasn't     gone     by     without     him     thinking     about     her?      that     if     he     could     turn     back     time,      he     would?      does     he     dare     to     ruin     what's     supposed     to     be     her     perfect     day?      ❛      that     i     hope     you're     happy.      ❜      

 　　　　she's a stranger clad in ivory silk and even more foreign to brunette is the version of self she's embraced in his absence. all bark, no bite; a mantra she would have never allowed self to slip into in minjun's company. now, she bites back sharp quips and blames her complacency on the spirit of the day. the day outlined in the earliest of her memories, just not like this. never like this. ❛ maybe stupid, but it was always so much fun pretending with you. ❜ corners of lips curl around the syrupy sweetness of words and into a smile that softens her expression. nerves are forming in the lining of her stomach, attributable to the magnitude of the day, and the larger, more invasive part is the reaction he stirs within her. something old, something new. his promise ring scathes her skin where it sits in the band of her corset. something borrowed, something blue. the four things a bride needs, and the one thing she wants is stood just before her. she manages a step forward when he speaks again. cautious in her step, careful not to cross any allegorical boundary. ❛ you came to see me after all this time, on my wedding day to let me know you hope i'm happy? ❜ a pause, irises scanning his features, ❛ or is it that you wanted to see for yourself, if i'm truly happy or making the biggest mistake of my life? ❜

                                    ❛      what     do     you     mean      i     look     different?      ❜      undetermined     if     saint     meant     it     in     a     good     or     a     bad     way;      maybe     it     was     because     she     got     her     braces     taken     off?      or     the     fact     that     she's     gotten     good     at     her     makeup?      he,      for     certain,      looked     different     too      —      but     in     the     best     way.      years     ago,      she     thought     he     was     cute,      just      …      it     was     his     personality     that     outshined     his     cherub     exterior.      but     today,      her     heart     does     somersaults     at     the     mere     sight     of     him.      she     almost     forgets     that     he's     her     best     friend's     brother.           ❛      yeah,      she     always     said     she     would     get     married     before     me      —      i     just     didn't     think     it     would     ever     really     happen.      ❜      jests     in     return,      nostalgia     lingering     in     the     atmosphere     already.      it     didn't     feel     like     much     time     had     gone     since     their     last     meeting.      ❛      i'm     with     someone.      i     mean,      i     came     here     alone      —      but     i     have     a     boyfriend,      yeah.      ❜      feels     as     if     she's     failing     to     speak     correctly;      for     some     reason,      she's     mesmerized     by     his     eyes.      ❛      but     he's     not     here.      he's     in     south     america     for     work      …      well,      what     about     you?      have     you     at     least     tried     to     get     to     know     anyone?      ❜

　　　　❛ i mean, you look nice, ❜ he shoots and misses, because there is no appropriate way to feign nonchalance when you declare that someone takes your breath away. ❛ not that you didn't look nice before, ❜ the rushed speech continues, and he's making a fool of himself, heat rising to the nape of his neck. ❛ you just look different than how i remember. ❜ the air enveloping them is uncomfortably comfortable, with male zoning out from the ebbs and flows of small talk to fixate on her features. string of thoughts is brought to a halt at the mention of marriage, and then the mention of her boyfriend. he's left to stand on the fine line where subjects intersect. the question rests on the tip of his tongue, but he knows better. his mind knows better, but his rationale does not. ❛ boyfriend, huh? so, she might've beat you to it, but marriage isn't completely off the table? ❜ inquiry lacks tact though tone is void of any acidity. he's curious about her; it's written all over his face. ❛ funny. i was with someone, it ended a few months ago. something about unaligned priorities. ❜ a brief explanation for a much more excruciating heartbreak than he was willing to admit to, so long as girl stood before him kept his interest piqued. ❛ so, south america? how long? must be major if he couldn't leave to be here with you. ❜

❝　what　would　you　even　know　about　complicated　?!　❞　voice　raised,　light　hues　kissed　with　tears　in　corners,　easily　upset　at　the　mess　self　created　&　unsure　what　was　best　course　of　action　in　particular　case.　where　there　is　hope　there　is　also　doubt　-　&　eyes　portray　that　so　clearly,　which　was　why　gaze　was　avoidant　of　partner's.　❝　it's　not　-　it's　not　that　i　don't　wanna　be　with　you　...　i　just　think　...　it's　just　-　ugh　!　❞　sniffling　while　salty　drops　ran　down　rosy　cheeks,　paws　of　hoodie　dabbing　face.　voicing　emotions　was　never　easy　for　brunette,　but　writing　them,　singing　them,　somehow　it　was　easier　on　paper.　❝　i　feel　like　our　emotions　j　-　just　aren't　in　the　same　place,　okay　?!　i　feel　like　you　like　me　too　much　a　-　and　while　i　do　have　feelings　for　you　...　i　don't　think　i'm　over　him　yet,　i　wanted　to　be　over　him　before　jumping　into　something　else　b　-　but　you　came　a　-　and　we　connected　and　just　-　❞　pause　for　a　well　needed　sigh.　❝　is　it　wrong　i　feel　too　many　things　all　at　once　?　❞

 　　　　each word spoken between them is another fissure to his chest, luna's heavy with the confession he had been waiting weeks for but seemingly never envisioned the possibility of as multitude of scenarios played out in his mind. it's a first; for him to listen to the object of his affections hesitate to such an extent, and for him to harbor sympathy rather than resentment once he notices the droplets of tears that appear out of place against her skin. wants to salvage it, can't. so, instead, he pulls a bruised lip between parted teeth in contemplation. it's a losing fight, anyway. that much has made itself clear. best to leave all cards on the table. there is no walking away from this unscathed. ❛ if you were never over him to begin with, why bother starting something with me? ❜ an inquiry void of any accusations. just plain, cold dejection. ❛ were my feelings just not as important, or were they meant to help you work through yours? ❜ the unaddressed hangs over them, caustic in the way he rips the bandaid. ❛ what does that mean for us, then? if he asks you to go back to him, will you? ❜

she'd  heard  the  request,  barely  having  a  moment  to  register  who  it  was  before  the  door  flung  open.  much  to  her  annoyance,  it  startled  her  enough  that  her  shoulders  jumped.  the  others  demeanor  seemed  hostile,  causing  her  to  stand  upright  as  they  met  face  to  face.  it  took  a  moment  to  register  just  exactly  who  was  standing  before  her... great. she knew this was coming sooner or later, and it had to be the first option. the  post  wasn't  that  bad...  to  frankie.  sure,  there  was  a  shady  comment  or  two  but  who  was  she  to  blame?  she  was  just  doing  her  job,  after  all.  "my  problem  with  you?  all  i  did  was  post  what  happened,  how  is  it  my  fault  you  placed  third?"  arms  crossed  over  her  chest,  the  corners  of  her  lips  turned  upwards  to  a  smirk.  her  voice  was  almost  too  sweet,  fully  aware  of  the  tone  she  was  portraying.  "maybe  if  you  weren't  so  worried  about  what  i'm  posting,  summer,  you'd  be  ranking  higher."

 　　　　palms drum against door at a pace so rapid and a force so brute, hands are left to hang heavy in surrounding air as the handle flings open to reveal summer's self - declared sworn nemesis. ❛ no one cares about equestrian statistics on this damn campus! you know everyone's a football freak, and you weaselled your way into a front page feature at my expense, ❜ tone lowering as she all but spits her argument to the other. ❛ you clearly have something against me, or you're just obsessed with me and this was your way of getting my attention. which one is it? ❜ arms cross over chest to mirror frankie's stance. she can almost feel the heat rising to skin. of course, she'll blame the other girl for the way onlookers seem to gather around their exchange and dismiss the idea that the scene unfolding may be due to her boisterous diction. ❛ i don't understand what part of this is funny to you. is it the fact that you embarrassed someone, or the fact that you embarrassed me specifically? ❜

open  shifts  fell  into  his  lap  with  a  healthy  frequency —  one  that  allowed  pockets  to  fill,  ablit  the  emptiness  of  his  soul  after  the  last  glass  was  poured  of  the  evening.  this  one  in  particular  had  found  itself  quite  fruitful,  a  couple  of  regulars  that  added  a  healthy  tip  as  their  salaries  had  increased  for  the  holidays,  and  some  new  ranchers  in  town  asking  about  boarding  at  his  own  barn  in  the  interim  of  theirs  opening.  it  was  not  until  the  other  had  shifted  that  he  realized  he  was  stuck  in  the  same  thought  loop —  how  to  make  the  ends  meet,  how  to  pay  the  mortage  down,  and  how  to  get  his  damn  horse  to  stop  bucking  off  beginning  riders,  so  he  could  finally  make  use  of  the  range. ❛❛  pardon  my  ignorance  darlin'.  easy  to  get  stuck  in  a  loop  these  days,  ya  know  ? ❜❜  and  the  lilt  of  the  voice  showed  inclination  to  continue  conversation,  forearms  finding  rest  upon  bartop  as  head  tilts  in  acknowledgement. ❛❛  what  can  i  get  you  this  fine  evening  ?  don't  see  very  many  new  faces  around  here  these  days,  so  i'll  be  sure  to  make  it  special. ❜❜

 　　　　skepticism is a troublesome feat for a girl grown accustomed to wearing her heart upon her sleeve. assimilation to the town appeared far from linear, and the current evening was unfolding itself into something much bleaker than the previous. to think, openly discussing the breadth of wheat fields would be deemed such a faux pas. still, when the facts are laid out, kennedy's determination supersedes fear. it's how she finds herself at the watering hole, crossed forearms perched over weathered mahogany, sticky with the remnants of liquor left as a souvenir from whoever was here before her. only in awaiting her turn to order does she contemplate whether her mother had seen these four walls. what she thought of them, if they welcomed her with warmth or solace. the accent she hears pierces straight through the rabbithole. ❛ what, no fancy house cocktail menu? ❜ a feeble attempt at new york city humor. she's certain he'll grow fond of her charm someday. for now, she clears her throat. ❛ sorry ⎯⎯ i just moved in from the city. taking over the bakery down the road, over there, ❜ and gestures with her index finger toward a proverbial there, ❛ grandma left it to me in the will, since mum's off the rails. you didn't ask for all of the detail, but i thought it'd help you make a well informed decision when i ask you to recommend me a drink. so, what's it gonna be? ❜

“what  if  we  never  saw  each  other  again,  and  this  was  it,  would  you  care?”  strands  of  hair  fall  over  her  face  as  she  shakes  her  head,  as  if  questioning  why  she  even  asked  in  the  first  place.  part  of  billie  knew  the  answer,  her  last  bit  of  hope  telling  her  she  was  wrong.  returning  her  eyes  to  their  gaze,  billie  couldn’t  help  but  sigh,  exhaustion  clear  in  her  voice.  “do  you  care?” 

 　　　　disbelief sits heavy in the throws of their chest, ❛ we're not not seeing each other ever again, so i'm not entertaining questions like that ⎯⎯ the more you bring it up, the more i feel like you never want to see me again. ❜ blame ricochets off their skin and into billie's hands. the further she could push the guilt away, the easier it was to ignore it. a sip of liquor to wash it further down. ❛ of course i care, this was never about that. it's just band stuff, bad for the image and all of that other hollywood etiquette. you understand, right? ❜

it  was  a  rare  occasion  that  he  was  handed  the  company  card,  and  this  exact  situation  is  why.  somewhere  along  the  day  he  had  lost  it  —  there  was  not  much  that  he  had  done,  just  ran  round  the  city  four  times  with  12  bags  of  fruits  on  one  arm,  of  course.  and  so  here  he  was,  retracing  his  steps  carefully  and  ending  up  at  the  first  store  he  was  at,  praying  he  had  left  it. ❛❛ theres  no  card  with  the  name  joseph  on  it  anywhere  ?  not  even  one  in  the  back  behind  some  weird  register  ?  are  you  fucking  serious  ? ❜❜  exasperated  beyond  possible  belief,  this  may  just  be  his  breaking  point.  a  pivot  on  his  heel  to  run  face  first  into  the  person  behind  him,  the  irritation  present  on  his  face. ❛❛  sorry,  it's  been  a  long  fucking  day.  do  not  ever  get  a  damn  job,  i'm  telling  you,  it's  the  absolute  fucking  pits.  have  you  happened  to  see  an  american  express  somewhere  on  the  floor  ? ❜❜

　　　　put simply, her patience for the deeply disturbed was wearing thin. it might be the comedown from the previous evening's consumables (read: consumed substances) or it might be the sickly green fluorescent lighting that mocked her from overhead, but she swears she's seeing double. that is, seeing the same unfamiliar face twice over, the sight of which evokes a particular disdain in light of the hangover she actively nurses. ❛ there are no lost american express cards in this establishment, sir. ❜ lies straight through set of pearly whites, and she makes a point to smack the title against the roof of her mouth. a self - proclaimed attempt at improving customer reviews before the holiday season. giving back to the community, and all that. a tight, sardonic smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth. ❛ or, there very well might be. i might remember seeing it, but that depends on whether you can entertain me with whatever explanation you have for being so out of breath at ass - o'clock. ❜

THE  LACK  OF  THEIR  SIGNIFICANT  OTHER  MAKES  HER  SMILE.      wicked and weird. it's  weird  and  sick,  she  knows  this,  but  it  doesn't  change  the  fact  that  she's  glad  to  have  them  all  to  herself  for  even  just  a  moment.  it's  a  party  they'd  dragged  her  to  –  something  about  making  more  friends  –  and  she's  holding  tightly  to  the  red  solo  cup  that'd  been  shoved  into  her  hand  an  hour  before.  sits  down  besides  them.  head  tilting  all  dog  -  like  and  curious.  lips  wobble,  trying  to  play  it  coy.  she'd  never  been  particularly  good  at  that.  “are  they  coming?”  it's  a  genuine  question.   she  hadn't  meant  to  pry,  but,  maybe  honestly  this  could  be  a  good  thing  for  her  —  blonde  can  find  an  opening  anywhere.  “i  haven't  heard  you  talk  about  them  all  week.”

　　　　surprise paints her expression a vibrant hue, an equal part mixture of comfort and liquid courage that led her there. would despise blunt inquiries if stemming from anyone other than the blonde she had labelled a best friend, but she finds her jaw relaxing once irises scan her features. ❛ i didn't tell you? she won't be around for a little. ❜ stated plainly, as if the revelation didn't carry a plethora. unlike her counter, safira erred on the side of caution and teetered on straight - forward. all the merrier when the window for interrogation was closed. she knows kennedy better than to bet she'll be let off the hooks so effortlessly. ❛ you know i don't like talking about, like, relationship stuff ⎯⎯ but she won't be around, like ever. something about moving to california, cleansing herself from my weird stuff. it always made more sense when it was just you and me, didn't it? ❜

             she     flees     the     small     space     between     them     ,     locating     solace     on     edge     of     made     mattress     away     from     breaths     that     once     mingled     to     steady     her     own     breathing     .           ‘     is     that     what     you     think     i'm     doing     ?     settling     ?     ’           palm     presses     against     linen     ,     ironing     out     crimson     cloth     that     creases     under     her     weight     ,     mere     momentary     diversion     to     avoid     her     line     of     sight     .           ‘     it's     not     like     there's     anything     better     out     there     ,     anyway     .     unless     you     see     something     i     don't     .     ’           not     an     inquiry     ,     but     it     lingers     in     the     air     between     them     like     one     .     curiosity     consumed     her     wholly     ,     forever     budding     heads     that     were     summer     and     her     boyfriend     a     continuous     cycle     ,     a     narrative     she     wanted     answers     to     .           ‘     why     does     austin     hate     you     so     much     ?     and     why     do     you     hate     him     just     as     much     ?     ’           gaze     finally     settles     on     her     ,     words     spill     out     in     a     hurry     ,     pearly     whites     chewing     on     lesser     brim     to     stall     the     endless     cascade     of     probing     .     awaits     an     answer     ,     surveying     for     any     shift     in     countenance     ,     only     for     gaze     to     slowly     descend     figure     ,     taking     in     every     curve     and     dip     of     stature     ,     breath     catching     once     discerning     own     actions     .           ‘     unless     that's     something     you     just     cant     seem     to     say     either     .     ’

　　　　❛ nobody will see you as a champion, if they have a hard time seeing you as a person. ❜ unsolicited advice offered under the guise of life lesson. recalls the first time coach had presented her similar wisdoms in a barbed wire wrapped box, every idiom evoking a sting upon contact with her psyche. on the track, she was a force; equipment her armor and the resonance of horseshoe against dirt deafening the taunting teammates utter her way. in the dressing room, she was no more than a sheep. bark bigger than her bite. fragility in the frame of a girl softened by insults that lay tracks across her. prove yourself, prove that you deserve it. that you've earned it. her mother's voice bleeding over her own across every surface until the ache of them loses its discernment. she forces down bubbling laughter once she gets past the irony of it all. there’s a girl on the edge of her bed; the girl she can’t seem to stomach. the girl who stirs something within her, an acidic mixture that sits a little too close to envy, a little too close to want, and all summer can do is stare. try as she might, there’s nothing she can manage to pull gaze from the sight of her glass lifting to autumn’s lips. wonders if the taste of her own lip gloss sits there. wonders if autumn thinks about it, too. the clearing of her throat is awkward, uncomfortable. ❛ i don’t study you ⎯⎯ you’re just terribly in my way, all the time. it’s exhausting. ❜ 　　　　girl moves to the opposite side of mattress and finds purchase there, lowering shoulders until she lays across silken bedspread, vision drinking in the crimson of surroundings, the chandelier, anything but her. the air she draws in is steady, though the beat of her heart is anything but. the response sits in her throat like bile, ❛ you're happy with him, ❜ she reminds, twisting her head until irises fall upon the dim lighting that traces autumn's cheekbone. the lull following reply lingers there, duration too long to be deemed indifferent. her breath falters, ❛ why should it matter what i think if you're happy with him? ❜ tries not to clip her words around the edges, where her vulnerability threatens to bare itself. her eyelids flutter shut as the contemplations sit behind them. ❛ i don't like austin because he doesn't like me, ❜ she settles for, simple yet paramount, each syllable more rehearsed than the former. draws in a sigh, then, but exhales it just as abruptly as air melts with the scent of autumn's perfume ⎯⎯ the one that drew her to girl, distinguished her in a faceless crowd. ❛ he made my life a living hell last year, and i don't think he likes seeing me near you, ❜ she murmurs, voice gaining tenderness, ❛ which, i don't understand. he has no reason to, does he? ❜

             ‘     please     ,     you     jumped     at     the     chance     to     take     me     back     to     your     room     .     but     i     think     it's     really     sweet     you     think     i     wanted     to     go     back     with     you     .     ’           cranium     comes     to     rest     against     cool     metal     of     elevator     wall     ,     a     feigned     beam     tugging     at     pink     petals.     her     hand     finds     the     railing     ,     tips     of     their     fingers     meeting     in     a     soft     graze     ,     a     whisper     of     contact     that     sends     pulse     stumbling     in     her     chest     ,     yet     she     doesn't     pull     away     .           ‘     tell     me     ,     do     i     always     run     though     your     mind     twenty     four     seven     ?     ’           perks     up     then     ,     curiosity     flickering     to     life     in     gaze     ,     a     brow     arching     ,     deliberate     and     teasing     .     and     before     beating     vessel     can     skip     another     beat     in     the     quiet     between     them     ,     the     elevator     chimes     ,     doors     gliding     open     to     unveil     a     dimly     lit     corridor     ,     where     walls     of     deep     crimson     bloom     with     shadowed     blossoms     ,     their     patterns     winding     down     the     hall     .     noir     doors     stand     in     rows     ,     each     one     holding     its     secrets     ,     while     the     faint     glow     of     flickering     sconces     paints     the     air     in     shades     of     velvet     and     mystery     .     she     doesn’t     reach     for     comfort     right     away     once     inside     room     ,     door     closing     softly     behind     her     ,     sealing     them     in     a     hush     heavy     with     unspoken     things     .     instead     ,     fingers     drift     over     countertop     ,     tracing     idle     paths     through     the     scatter     of     her     belongings     —     a     half     used     bottle     of     perfume     ,     trinkets     gathered     from     local     vendors     lining     streets     ,     each     object     offering     her     fleeting     glimpses     into     the     enigma     that     is     summer     .           ‘     you     said     i     hate     the     fact     that     you     can     see     right     through     me     .     ’           she     speaks     then     ,     voice     a     gentle     ripple     that     cuts     through     the     quiet     ,     drawing     attention     from     the     constellation     of     belongings     to     find     her     across     the     room     ,     she     leans     back     against     the     dresser     with     an     effortless     grace     ,     watching     her     from     afar     .     the     distance     between     them     hums     with     tension     ,      fragile     ,     electric     .           ‘     what     do     you     see     when     you     see     me     ?     ’

 　　　　the silence is a security blanket, folding over the width of girl's shoulders when the laughter she wills herself to exhale as a dismissal to autumn's interrogations never makes it past pearly teeth. the sound of it dies in her throat and dissolves within the tremor that lingers there. for the first time that evening, summer manages to demagnetize her gaze from brunette's. notices they've rushed into the suite too abruptly to consider flicking the lamps on; the surrounding area is void of any warmth, save for the heat that radiates from the surface of her own skin. she's indebted to the dark that distracts from the way autumn's inquiries elicit goosebumps to raise there, too. all she can concentrate on is the light peeking through curtains, highlighting the shibuya skyline resting behind them. a pull of gravity, a souvenir of the version of the pair that can only exist under present circumstances. all of the street lights, somehow, are yellow. she doesn't know how they ended up here, how she ended up here. how she became someone who deserved ending up here.  　　　　it's just a question. a question that makes her chest ache, but a question nonetheless, and a question shouldn't make her this nervous. it isn't the first time summer's pulse betrays her. do i always run through your mind, twenty - four seven? her response isn't immediate ⎯⎯⎯ how naive of autumn to believe it could be. she doesn't recognize the weight of it, because autumn doesn't carry the tonnage of inferiority summer had been born into. she couldn't fathom the magnitude of her inquiry, because autumn doesn't bear the burden of feelings that summer doesn't put a name to. ❛ you wish, ❜ is the response she settles for as newly poured glass is brought to her mouth. her swallow rinses the bitter truth that sticks to teeth. the truth is that she does, and that she won't allow herself to. ❛ you must really think highly of yourself. surprising, even for you. ❜ even the parts of her that know better are drawn to her. her eyes are half - lidded when irises follow the girl's every move. admires the way autumn seems to assimilate in the scene before them. like she belongs in the perimeter of summer's room, among her belongings, worn fragrance curling in the air like smoke and smothering her. autumn is careful where summer is brash; the latter takes the steps forward to bridge whatever distance the other had created. when she faces her, there's no more avoiding it. ❛ i see someone determined, but someone whose ambition was spoon - fed to them, when the rest of us had to earn it. ❜ another sip of liquor. ❛ someone who's desperate to be liked, so much so that they'll settle for it. ❜ her words drip malice, but her tone is soft. she's close enough now for gaze to be unavoidable, ❛ i see someone who knows exactly what they want but just can't seem to say it. ❜