#emptymile

               ❛  you  look  lost.  ❜  and she looks --- not quite found, but complacent with her own misfortune. she sits on the hood of a stolen jeep, old as the hills, taken from someplace or a junkyard; she can’t remember. what she does remember is the feeling of hunger, the pangs of confusion and an overall exhaustion that seeps into her marrow.  ❛  do  you  even  know  where  you’re  going?  this  place  is  kind  of  confusing  sometimes.  ❜    /     ♡  —  @emptymile​.

       finn reaches out, pushing at the side of sean’s head to move him out of the way. he leans over the younger man’s lithe body to grab onto the book behind him, pulling it protectively against his chest and leaning back to where he’d been sitting before, out of reach of sean’s grasp. in theory-- they’re sitting too closely together in his tent for him to actually get away. “yeah, i’ll share, but you have to promise not to judge how much i’ve marked this thing up.” a pause. “or what i’ve marked up.”

he  probably  shouldn’t  because  she’s  unreliable  at  best, prone to disappearing both physically and within her own head. natalie isn’t known for her stability, but then again he’s a runaway --- he and his brother, really. they’re similar enough in some ways to make up for all the ways they aren’t. it’s peaceful here though, and her head’s resting against his shoulder as she tries with such determination to find orion’s belt. as if it’ll solve all the answers; it won’t but betelgeuse is there and one of these days...  ❛  you  know  that  star’s  gonna  explode,  right?  maybe  not  today,  maybe  not  tomorrow  but  soon.  ❜  it’s probably not the reaction he’s expecting when he says something so important as ‘i trust you’, but all the same she’s got this slightly triumphant lilt in her voice. she shifts slightly,  ❛  i  ---   ❜  vulnerability isn’t her strong suit and it’s evident as her eye contact with him doesn’t last. he trusts her, sure, but she isn’t sure if she’s worthy of it.  ❛  i  trust  you  too,  ❜  natalie swallows the lead anchor in her throat to keep herself from word-vomiting all over him.  ❛  you  okay?  you’re  quieter  than  usual.  ❜

natalie’s  unsure  of  how  to  respond  to  that.  on one hand, she loves the quiet but it’s a familiarity that unsettles her. it allows her to hear things that she’s not sure is real, like hymns in the distance. they’re backwards, then forwards, then sharp in the air  ---  hanging there like a perpetual nimbus cloud.  ❛  you’d  love  orla  then,  everything  closes  after  eight.  ❜  except the mall, that stayed open until eleven. the bars too, and the one strip club. nothing good at all happened in orla after eight pm. she closes her eyes, body laying back against the grass as she pictures herself floating on water. it’s not water, but in her mind she can pretend it is.     ❛  the  world’s  never  completely  quiet.  ❜  there are lulls, sure, but it seems disingenuous for her to acknowledge the world being quiet. it’s always so loud.  ❛  but  it’s  not  too  bad  if  you’re  with  the  right  people.  ❜

@emptymile​  liked  for  a  starter.