#botrusanimarum

@botrusanimarum · / &· 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 · * 

       Eric was already regretting the decision to carry two coffees. Not because it was physically demanding — unless one considered balancing boiling liquid in fragile cardboard while navigating furniture an Olympic sport, but because he had a long history of the universe conspiring against him in small, sticky ways. It wasn’t personal. The universe simply had a very low tolerance for dignity.

       He approached the table with the calculated confidence of a man pretending nothing bad could possibly happen. The table corner, sensing weakness, jabbed his hip at exactly the wrong moment. One cup lurched in protest, sending a brown crescent of coffee across his sleeve. Eric didn’t flinch. Neither did the sleeve. They were both committed to the fiction that it hadn’t happened.

       ❝ 𝐓𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 ❞ he said, sliding one cup toward them like he was passing a priceless relic ❝ 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮𝐩. 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭. ❞ He paused, perhaps expecting gratitude, perhaps bracing for ridicule. His expression didn’t shift, but the faint narrowing of his eyes suggested he was making a mental note about how much of this was going into their permanent record.

       He sat down, or at least attempted the basic concept of sitting. The chair, apparently constructed on a budget and a grudge, had one leg shorter than the others. It wobbled ominously. Eric took a sip of coffee to reassert dominance, promptly discovered it was the temperature of molten rock, and pretended nothing had happened — aside from a brief, involuntary micro-spasm of his jaw. ❝ 𝐒𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤… 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐭? 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠? ❞ The tone was perfectly sincere, like “hexed” was a category in standard health check-ups.

       He leaned back, a picture of studied composure. ❝ 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞-𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬… 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭. ❞ This was delivered with the gravity of a man leaving instructions in the event of his untimely demise, because in Eric’s world, coffee was not merely coffee. It was a will to live.

one year later.

she had never really thought of planning her future. for a girl whose ambitions were to live quietly and by the side of her grandmother, she was not set up to continue after her mid 30s. not that age really mattered, but society loved to wave a flag in their face that indicated that there should be something done by certain ages. hyejung was not usually affected by these invisible signs, moving along at her own pace. though with soojin, she wanted them to succeed.

sprawled out on the counter were a plethora of scrapbooking materials that were intertwined with ticket stubs and pictures from their honeymoon. her eyes glance down at the ring that was perfectly snug on her ring finger. insanity. she lets out a sigh, leaning over the counter as a multitude of thoughts implode in her mind. their house was something to play with, the wallpapers could be changed and their furniture could vary on their mood. the juxtaposition of possibilities being endless and limited had barred hyejung's impulsive thoughts to occur. this was their forever home- right? that's how she should think of it. she couldn't think of changes too quickly. it was a team effort.

and speaking of team. as if he's on cue, she spots soojin at the door. and as gross as it was (it's not!) she stares at him, lovingly, gaze holding his honeyed eyes. even if she did not believe that she should have had a future like this, it was reality. it had happened and would continue to happen. "soojin." her voice, gentle, tender, beckoning him over to help her and provide input.

@botrusanimarum· / &· Luca · *

✧ ten things lydia martin started doing after getting engaged ✧

1. She started writing little reminders on their shared grocery list in pink ink — things like “your weird cereal” or “whatever milkshake you’re obsessed with this week.”

2. She always reaches for his hand now in the middle of a conversation. She used to stand apart when talking. Now, without even realizing it, her fingers find his.

3. She hums around the apartment. Just little melodies under her breath, tuneless and quiet. It’s something she only does when she feels completely, unthinkingly safe.

4. She leaves her book face down on the couch now when she gets up. She used to tidy it away. But now? She knows he won’t mind the clutter. It’s theirs.

5. When she wears his hoodies, she stops pretending it’s just because they’re soft. They are. But it’s more about the way they smell, the way they settle on her like safety.

6. She saves screenshots of text messages he sends when he’s trying to be serious but ends up ridiculous. They’re all in a folder named “evidence of a future husband.”

7. She turns the ring on her finger whenever she’s thinking. Absentminded, thoughtful, fond. It’s not nerves — just a new kind of stillness she’s learning how to carry.

8. She started learning how to cook the exact breakfast he always orders, even though she insists it’s “too greasy.” She secretly likes hearing him brag about it to people.

9. She makes to-do lists for two now. It’s never “pick up dry cleaning.” It’s “pick up our stuff.” Always plural. Always shared.

      ❛ Elena .. I didn't think i'd see a familiar face at this shoot. ❜

━━  ❀ The shop bells jingle and she looks up almost REFLEXIVELY, hope glittering in dark eyes, gasp at the end of her throat - only to smile with disappointment at herself. It’s been so long and life has returned to normal - she’s stopped going back to that old church, so why does she still expect a shadow to come through the door? “ - I’m sorry. I - mistook you for someone else.” Pushes hair out of her face with a particular HASTE. “Is there anything I can help you with? Um, an instrument? An order?”

a mixture of seawater and rainwater dripped from her dark locks as she shivered under her damp towel. summer rains are not new in this part of town, but it certainly made a screeching halt on her plans to enjoy the last month of the season. however, she wasn't alone per se as another seemed to have joined her company to mull over the gloomy weather terrorizing the area. a complete stranger. or maybe not? lily was always bad at remembering faces.

    going out on a date had not been dahlia's idea. it had been a friend of hers considering it had been over a year since alec had passed. she hadn't known if she was ready but she had decided to give it a try. ms. renee was off for the night so she had reached out to luca. the two of them had grown close since the twin's first birthday. she had asked him to watch them and thankfully he had agreed. even getting ready had been nerve wracking, let alone actually arriving at the restaurant. what had made things worse was the fact that the guy clearly knew who she was. everyone knew that she was alec pierce's widow. a woman who had plenty of money to her name. the moment he had tried to ask about her husband, she hadn't been able to handle it.