#bvrningdcwn

"how did he fuck up this time?" that's how he chooses to greet them once eanna opens up his door. that is the only reason that they would be on his doorstep at this time of night, after all. why they continue this failing relationship is beyond him, but he also is the type of man that doesn't ask too many questions. particularly when he served to benefit from it like he does now. it's not as if he is the relationship type. still, if he were, he would not treat the other in the way that they are enduring now. love is a mystical thing to him, beyond his scope of understanding, but lust is something that he understands very well.

he's been watching some arrogant prick drape his arms across her all night, as if she's his property, parading her all around the lavish east hampton estate. he's not typically the jealous type, but when it comes to vivian, he can't seem to hide it. "well, well well." stepping outside for a smoke, archie catches her having a quiet moment alone. "finally snuck away from lover boy, have we?" he offers out the pack of cigarettes to her, holding it open on the chance she might want to join him. "you're not enjoying yourself, viv." it's obvious and he prides himself on being able to read her like an open book, much like she can do with him. he puts it down to years of friendship. and of fucking. they're closer than close, had been from an early age. bonded by their shared wealth and their equally shared attraction. "you gonna tell me who he is or what?"

the confession from the other leaves her at a loss for words. it's got her heart beating rapidly in her chest, knowing she's not alone in how she feels and what she wants. so, what are they waiting for? the only reason why she hasn't already walked closer is because she's scared of if it all does wrong. it was bad enough losing lola, even if for such a short period of time, but she can't imagine actually losing her best friend. "what if ... it doesn't go wrong?" it all feels like a lot of 'what if's, but that's what has her overthinking it a second too long. head shakes, blonde waves falling over her shoulders before she's inching a step closer. "all i know is ..." words trail off, hands reaching out to entwine their fingers together, feeling a warmth radiating from the other. "i don't want to lose you."

tanner wasn't sure who had the ingenious idea to put a bar directly beside a dance studio, but it seemed that every night when during shift change as he was getting off work class was also letting out. the girls were a sight he enjoyed, maybe a little too much, exchanging a few glances with a few girls every night, but there was one that he really enjoyed seeing. she was there everytime he got off work. either dedicated or addicted, either way he knew that he wanted to know more about it. ❝ good practice? ❞ he asked, once he spotted the girl, using that as his introduction, rather than the usual nod as he passed by her. 

" you don't mind that i'm wearing this, do you ? " she's referring to his t-shirt that's currently draped over her tiny frame, covering her while she sorts through her dirty clothes. "work's been insane lately and i haven't had time to do laundry. " it was peyton's first weekend off in eight weeks, the first chance she had to catch up with things that needed to be done around their apartment and yet, all she keeps thinking about is their night together. their incredible, orgasmic, drunken mistake. was she crossing a line right now by wearing his clothes? even if he'd seen her naked? they'd been friends forever so... surely it was okay? "i'm not sure what you wanna do for dinner tonight." she says, in order to stop her thoughts from racing. "i really need to go grocery shopping, but uhm, i'll treat us to something if you want to order in with me?"

it takes all of his willpower and what little courage that he can muster to keep his posture straight and his nerves at bay, though there is the slightest of fidgets from his bouncing leg underneath the booth every now and then. something that gage hopes that they do not notice. "you can order anything you want," he assures around a swallow, meeting their gaze before his eyes drop to glance at the menu. his hands are clammy, and he just hopes that the sheen of sweat is not visible. "it's all on me, no worries." he doesn't, and wouldn't, label it a date, but the foolish part of him hopes that maybe they are viewing it that way.