* SAVED / DAMNED.

i’m currently moving to a new blog, which is under heavy construction as i work on muse pages ! once it’s all mostly up and running i’ll reblog the promo here. feel free to unfollow here !!

     electricity dances along nerves in anticipation and familiar excitement, and samuel is thriving in its familiarity, its embrace. though attention strays towards the petite girl he still hasn’t lost sight of, there is no denying it is split on the dark eyes and smiling lips that he wants to get to know, that he wants to take home. “can i buy you a drink ?” casual confidence in query, in cant of head and in the way he leans a touch too close into personal space.

     it’s not often he can sit back and just watch and, as much as samuel wants nothing more than to pass the evening with warmth in cold chest and fondness dripping from lips, he’s never been an inside person and is itching to stretch his legs, to enjoy the evening as it creeps up on them. “are you two really going to stay inside all day ? or can i convince you to go out, if only for dinner ?”

     “you’re bored.” it’s not a question but a statement, albeit amused and soft where it falls from panting lips, albeit the quirked brow of mirth that couples words. samuel holds pixie’s gaze in the mirror, steamed up from exertion, her reflection blurry yet sharp gaze zeroed in on her silhouette as if second nature. “i told you that i still need to practice whatever new choreography evan creates for us.” even if it takes him one try to master it.

     “you’re really gonna bet me that ?” bet adam shin, resident dumbass who doesn’t know when to back down, who is known for doing every dare under the sun ? obviously his escapades and misadventures aren’t quite well known among the group of friends he’s claimed as his own in his century, but they’ll soon learn that there is no such thing as ‘too bold or too big’ for adam. “what’re you betting ? what’s my prize ?”

     “i wouldn’t touch that if i were you.” nonchalant warning falls from pursed lips, where sawyer scribbles doodles in the margins of the notepad filled with the automatic writing from his last session with a bereaved daughter seeking closure from her father. “a customer gave it as a present but i’m pretty sure it’s a curse for my ‘ineptitude in summoning the right ghost’ or some other bullshit like that.” he knows it’s a dybbuk box and he is tempted to open it and add to the hurricane of chaotic spirit energy that is his apartment, but the unknown number of ghosts clinging to his apartment is already a big headache.

     “stop staring.” patience is wearing thin in an other soft tone, the blatant stare something marq has grown used to in childhood, when inquisitive little kids always asked ‘why are your eyes two different colors, why do they look weird, why, why, why’. “weren’t you taught how rude it is to stare at people ? or were your parents absent ?” patience has snapped and yet she is still soft, still quiet where she lets thorned words fall.

     “ah, ah, no rubbing your eyes !!” a near desperate cry falls from lips as sunny swats at the offending appendage, uncaring that the smack of her hand against the other’s sounds a bit too harsh and loud for something as small as smearing the drying eyeliner into the bold color of the eye shadow. “i know it took longer than i promised but it’s perfect and you’re gonna ruin all my hard work with your fingers !”

STARTER CALL !! i’ve got work in about 1.5hrs and it’s an 8hr shift so i won’t be home til the evening but ! please tap that heart to get a starter when i do get home ! as always, feel free to specify muse otherwise it’ll be muse roulette

tagged by: @warsinmyhead thank you !! tagging: (optional!): if ya want to, steal it !!