#dilkos

@dilkos

“When I introduce you, I’m going to use some vague language that doesn’t suggest boyfriend but also doesn’t scream pity date, alright?” This is what he got for saying he owed her for a tricky translation one time. It was a friend’s sister’s wedding, but one of those big ones where everyone got invited. Last time Celia saw the bride Cee was lending her ID so she could buy booze underage. God didn’t that make her feel old. “Alright,” she fixes her hair one last time in the car wing mirror, people already moving past them into the church. “How do I look?” She had been talked out of wearing black but had stuck to a deep navy blue dress, a compromise. 

❝ do you have an off button? ❞ at some point, she has to ask. her mom’s connections are small-town, but mighty enough that they bring her here. thanks to some accented, mysterious probably hot guy that her mom knew back during her brief stint at some law enforcement thing. ( she doesn’t press for details, no matter how badly she wants to ). and now here she is, on some ( more than likely ) ill-fated mission to figure out where the hell stefan disappeared to. and somehow, she runs into him. and from that point on, she lives in a state of near constant-irritation. ❝ i mean the ego, like, is it an always thing or are you peacocking? ❞