#isobelds

internally, he pukes at the cheesiness of the words that escapes her lips. externally, he grunts.

“precious,” he repeats, “precious as in a precious soccer player of your beloved team?” the girl had to be joking. didn’t she already realize that the reason behind his tardiness to practice most of the time was due to the fact that he had been smoking behind the bleachers? or how he’d purposely miss training altogether just so he could stay in his room (without his roommate around) to smoke some pot?

The statement doesn’t catch him off guard, because it’s coming from Isobel and well– clashing with her is and always will be something they both look forward to even if they wouldn’t admit that

he smiles, sweet and a little charming

she was right.

the roof that they were sitting on wasn’t too sturdy, after years of wear and tear, there were tiny holes in between bricks that seemed like they’d open up and consume them whole at the slightest movement.

“that’s true, we should really get off.” he responded, eyes fixated on one of the bigger holes. “you could get hurt, and getting hurt would suck, since i need you as my right-hand man for the upcoming short,” kieran joked, poking her arm with his index finger.

[ prompts x ]

gaze shoots to the female before him; breath labored, forehead damp with sweat. her voice was clear, cutting through the air, volume louder than the melodies ringing in his ears; a hand plucks out an ear bud, the sounds of nature rushing to his ears and he almost glares at her. he’d been jogging about, attempting to remain fit, of course he smelled like butt - er, well, of course his scent was rather musky. lips purse, though their corners rise ever so slightly;

it was hard not to be amused.

“ And you’d know the smell of butt better than anyone, wouldn’t you? ”