#jesstanleys

❝     yeah,   i did.     ❞               no room for reserve,   no point in concealing feelings     (     most feelings     )     when she’s in a mood so good.          three weeks isn’t so long on paper.          it hadn’t seemed that daunting a challenge at first,   living a little more independently.          the time had eventually swallowed her up,   and she reflects on her relief as they walk past the airport terminal in search of their uber home.          winter wears on mara,   forces her to bundle up more than she’d like,   but jessica helps     :     her hand is warm enough to thaw out any frost,   clasped tightly in a homecoming embrace.          she makes the whole season go by faster,   too,   but mara hasn’t put that together yet.          ❝     not as much as jack,   though.          you should’ve seen the way he sobbed the other night ‘cause he missed you so much.     ❞          truth backseated to exaggeration,   they both know,   in mara’s subliminal attempt to see a smile from her     ;     it’s been way too long for her liking,   and any pictures they’d swapped back and forth in her absence never did jessica full justice anyway.          glance shifts from the gravel below to her companion.          if jessica catches her at the right moment,   she’ll find a familiar glint in her eyes.          they sparkle with a softness only for her,   and make promises she won’t keep.          ❝     we’re going out tonight,   you and me and him,   so get some rest if you need to,   ‘cause we’re going hard.          like,   stupid hard.          i didn’t even drink last night ‘cause i wanted to prep for tonight.          well,   i didn’t take any shots or anything.          i had a few beers,   but those don’t count.     ❞

𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒     @jesstanleys​   —     ❝ no, i’m not god. not yet. ❞     ↳ 𝑨𝑪𝑪𝑬𝑷𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮

❝     what?     ❞          his features crease in confusion,   skeptical stare lifting above the rim of his glass.          jack feels cornered,   caged     ;     what does she want him to say to that?          ❝     no,   that can’t be right.     ❞          he scoffs,   setting his glass down to the bar’s countertop.          honesty is second-place to him,   it’s been that way for years and years now.          its success rate is disputed,   but if he has to play dirty to get where he wants,   that won’t hold him back.          he’s come too far for that.          jessica understands,   jessica had understood without needing to try too hard     —     he marvels at it     (     marvels at her,   always at her     ),   her silent empathy.          it’s conditional,   waxing and waning     ;     for every night when she dares to inch closer,   there is a morning when she retreats.          drives him up the fuckin’ wall,   she does,   but the frustration of it is as much of a comfort to jack,   and all his fondness for self-sabotage.          hook-ups are simple,   love is a trap     :     this is fun.          sue him for twisting the truth now and then     —    he’ll deny it all the way to his grave.          ❝     i know it’s not right,   as a matter of fact,   ‘cause last night i told you looked really good,   you remember that?     ❞          in traditional deflecting fashion,   he shifts what blame he can from himself to her,   sending her a smug smirk     (     just proud enough to loosen her up a little,   he hopes,   tailored to make her smile,   like it does on a good day     ).          ❝     i meant that,   jess,   that was honest.          give me some credit once in a while.     ❞          indulgent in ego,   always,   he can’t be stopped from one more sly comment dripping past his lips,   punctuated with another sip of his scotch.          ❝     i’m not so bad,   sweetheart.          i know you know that.     ❞

          ❛ the   only   thing   scarier   than   one   girl   crying   is   TWO   GIRLS   CRYING! ❜