#freakarus

Send a 📸 to see 3-5 pictures that my muse has/has taken of your muse(s)

She HUMS at the sight of him moving toward her spot LEANED back against the brickwork, HONEYED gaze FOND as she tips her head toward him. BLEACHED tresses swirling messily against the wall, PEACHY GRIN curling her GLITTER GLOSSED lips. ❝Well, look who it is,❞ her tone is all SIREN HEAT, unable to keep the amusement from it.

judith  had  practically  bitten  her  nails  to  a  nub,  a  nervous  tick  that  only  eddie  seemed  to  aggravate.  she  had  been  fine.  the  first  week  after  they  broke  up  was  sort  of  difficult,  but  she  stayed  strong  and  pretended  everything  was  alright,  until  it  dawned  on  her  that  she  had  made  a  terrible  mistake.  she  loved  eddie  and  even  though  they  fought  more  than  they  loved,  he  was  still  her  guy.  a  few  days  after  her  realization,  she  decided  to  work  up  the  courage  to  talk  to  him  after  weeks  of  avoiding  him  in  the  halls  and  at  the  trailer  park.

that  is  when  she  saw  him  talking  to  ashley  by  the  lockers,  flashing  that  goofy  smile  of  his  at  her.  her  heart  felt  heavy  in  her  chest  and  she  felt  almost  out  of  breath.  there  was  no  way  she  was  going  to  say  anything  to  him  now.

a  few  of  her  fingers  are  now  bleeding,  her  tick  getting  worse  as  the  scene  played  over  and  over  in  her  head  as  she  laid  in  her  bed  smoking  a  cigarette.  were  they  going  out?  had  eddie  really  moved  on  from  her  that  quickly?  there  was  only  one  way  to  find  out.

she  stormed  out  of  the  trailer  and  made  her  way  across  the  street,  not  caring  whether  the  light  at  eddie's  trailer  was  off  or  on.  they  were  going  to  talk  either  way.

rome doesn’t look up properly at first, like eddie appearing out of nowhere is just part of the place that you have to accept to be there. like the bar itself has learned his habits and started feeding him people out of boredom. he lets the silence stretch a second too long, deciding whether to commit to being normal or not, but immediately gives up. ' fuck off. i’ll have another and it’s on him. ' an accusatory head point at eddie.

the week before summer is the worst. nobody's particularly bothered by the monotonous drawls of the teachers, classmates are rowdier, the rooms are stuffier, the days seem longer && eddie, he's surprised he even showed up today. students murmur to each other throughout the room, a unison of tapping feet from the desk in front of him && he can see he's not the only one doodling across the page. there's nobody to bother him anyways, with an empty seat next to him. usually reserved for jeff; whose absent, sick with a flu but eddie knows that's a load of shit. he watched his friend throw back at least four vodka shots the night before. sick, yeah right. vodka fever. but the spot isn't reserved for silence for much longer, a shadow covers the page his attention is focused on && a voice speaks, requesting the spot. eddie assumes she's talking to someone else. nobody ever WANTS to sit next to him, lest it tatter their reputation or set them up for a weeks worth of jeering. that's always suited him just fine. eyebrows lift in curiousity as he meets her gaze, standing before him with her books in hand awaiting an answer. others have already caught the sight, glancing at the two, back to their friends && whispering. as if there's nothing better to talk about. eddie glances around too, awaiting prying eyes of a group of girls giggling that it's all a set up. not that he really cares, but there's nothing of the sort. just dottie kline standing there alone, STILL WAITING on a response. " uh, that depends. " a slight grin twitches across his lips, " if you value your sanity, i'd maybe choose the floor. " purposely annoying the teacher or beats tapped on the table can be irritating to sit next to, but he means the potential social fallout of such a decision. god forbid someone in class has to sit next to him!! one arm drapes across the back of his own seat, the other hand gestures toward the empty spot welcoming dottie to sit if she dares.

It's so close to the end of the school year that everyone can practically taste it, and summer tastes good. Freedom from boring classrooms, the inevitable end of year parties -- then the summer parties by the pool and lasting all night when there's no school to have to get to -- and the impending opening of the new mall. It's shaping up to be a great summer, once this last week of school finally ends. The last week always feels unnecessarily long. Maybe that's why Dottie had been busier chatting with her friends in the hall about summer plans than getting to class early enough to get a good seat.

By this point in the year, everyone practically has assigned seats, anyway: everyone has habitually gravitated to where they want to sit, and usually the sanctity of the unwritten seating chart is respected. Apparently not this week, though, and probably because with so little time left in the school year, no one cares about keeping order in the classrooms. That's the logic Dottie's going with when her usual spot is already taken, and the only available seat left is next to Eddie Munson. (Not counting the broken squeaky desk at the back of the room that no one likes, and not counting the desk right in front of the teacher's desk where you'll inevitably get called on all class. She's not sitting in those spots.) So asking Eddie if she can sit next to him is the only option.