#gckko

" i don't mind. " truth was, she was kind of getting used to it — and that was the problem. she shouldn't be getting used to eve when she knew this wasn't the type of relationship they had. whatever this was, it wasn’t supposed to feel like... more. clem shifted the coffee cup between her hands, studying the swirl of cream like it might give her the right words. " but i am starting to wonder... " she hesitated, the rest catching somewhere in her throat. if you're here because you want something more. if you just don't want to be away from me. if you... care. the words stayed unspoken, heavy between them, hanging in the quiet like smoke.

“okay,  first  of  all,  socks  are  like  rats.  they  disappear  the  moment  you  stop  looking  at  them.  second,  i  did  buy  a  pack!  i  just  don’t  know  where  any  of  them  are.”

with spring,  came a crisp breeze upon nightfall.  a welcome change from the over - packed banquet hall on the seventh floor of worcester building.  filled to the brim with overpaid businessmen and uninterested women with wine stained lips.  he should have known that he’d find her here too  –  escaping the chaos,  perched upon the rooftop overlooking the city.  ❛ had enough? ❜  leo asks,  pulling a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket.  a habit he swore over and over again to break with no success.  ❛ want one? ❜

          the edges of his lips were pinned in place for the cameras, his jaw relaxing only when the shutters paused for half a second. "you think i like talking to you at all?" blake muttered, eyes trained forward. "if it were up to me, i'd be drinking espresso in milan and…" he paused, his gaze sweeping over elliot, a silent assessment of his discomfort, "certainly not enduring this… forced intimacy." but the publicist had made it very clear—he needed to soften his image. make himself more 'human'. whatever that meant. elliot, with his anxious smiles and bookish reputation, was the pr fairytale: the gruff model and the quiet writer, opposites attracting and whatever bullshit they were selling. the studio loved it. the fans were frothing. blake, on the other hand, was fighting the urge to light a cigarette just for the hell of it. "just a little longer," he said after a beat, meant as reassurance as he straightened. "smile for the nice people, and then we can get out of here and go back to pretending the other doesn't exist."

" you lookin' to have fun, or were you gonna keep on mopin' about all night ? " / @gckko

          stefi’s smile softened at dominic’s teasing, meeting his gaze with earnest warmth. "mm, well, i do have a reputation to maintain," she said, amused. her arms folded gently across her chest, fingers still dusted faintly with green from earlier finger painting. "favorite chaos goblin is a coveted title, mr. warren. you can't just waltz in here with your very serious voice and think i’ll hand that over without a fight." her gaze flicked to billy, who was still completely absorbed in sticking bits of glittery paper onto his collage like his life depended on it. she softened further at the sight — his little tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration, oblivious to the world around him. there was something about watching children lose themselves in creative work that never failed to fill her with a kind of peaceful joy. "besides, we’re at the very critical ‘gluing your thumbs to the paper’ stage. interrupting now could be catastrophic." she turned back to dominic with a playful glint in her eyes. "also, i promised him if he finished his shape collage, i’d let him pick our cleanup song. i’m terrified it’s going to be baby shark again."

          nico set the mug down, careful this time, and braced both palms against the table, letting the seconds stretch. he watched her, searching for a tell. something in the way her fingers pressed against the spoon, the tension in her shoulders. dakota might claim nothing was wrong, but he knew better. they'd been here before—this delicate performance of emotional distance. "right," he said eventually, voice flat. he didn't bother hiding the eye roll. "because everything’s always about you. you’re the one who can’t let go of a towel."

he kept his eyes on the clock for the past few hours, becoming more concerned as time went by. jason knew they were safe. they always ended up coming back safely. however, there was always a slim chance things could go south and he knew that. it was only when he finally watched them entering the room, a sigh of relief escaped. instantly, he was cleaning up any cuts or wounds the other had before inquiring softly, “are you okay?” his eyes looked up toward them, hands pausing for a moment. “do you want to talk about what happened?”