#misereternal

"So." Lake plops down in the large chair before her and sighs. "My dad's running for Congress. How's your day been?"

Bradley shrugs. He doesn't think she's being difficult - it's a fair question given what he's told her. He just doesn't have a good answer; at least, not anything constructive. Raising the bottle to his lips, he takes a long drink, buying himself some time. "I don't know," he admits, wishing he had something to say that sounded a little smoother. "I think I'm still figuring that out myself."

Reconnecting with Mav brought clarity and assurance he'd been missing for a while; he'd even go as far as to say similarly with Seresin saving their asses. A sentiment he should probably extend to the entirety of the Dagger Squad. Now that it's over, though, he's not sure he's ready to return to VA Beach and act like the special detachment was like any other old mission.

@misereternal​ said  ❛  mallow :  what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds? ❜

 i’m gonna be using jason’s husband @eidetic187​ because it’s actually their anniversary !!

     SPANNA   EDITS    +   pictures   that   Aria   has   taken   over   the   years   &   has   brought   to   the   coffeeshop   to   give   to    Spencer  .     (    psd .  template .   )

spencer’s not you. and you aren’t spencer. but you can’t help but feel, every, every minute, like you wish you weren’t such a disappointment. you’re you, that’s it. unremarkable, unlovable, relatively freakish you. every time you turn around, there you are. you can’t get away from yourself and sometimes they’re tapping you on the shoulder whenever you get close enough to really leaving.

i need you in my life. you want to laugh about it. and you do. you bark. look away as fast as you can like you’re feeling — yep, there’s that shame. you jam your knuckles hard in your mouth. you’re you again, and you can’t get away, but they don’t need you, you need them. you almost punch yourself in the fucking teeth, even. your stomach rolls. you wrap your arms around yourself. you turn in anyway, press your head to her shoulder and mutter and fold.

“no.”

your brow pinches together tight. that premise is insane, you think — no, you know. spencer could never, would never, has never disappointed you. not in action, not in speech, not in doubt or word or deed. if anything spencer has been unabashedly, absolutely themselves, and there’s no fault in your heart to find for that. you shake your head to emphasize the fact.

“no, spencer, you never disappointed me. you never disappoint me. you’re just a fucking person.”

and you won’t condemn such a thing. humanity is humanity — and you’re young, but you know the weight and difference in pounds of flesh. and you know spencer owes you, owes no one anything. so there’s no one who should be disappointed.

“it feels kind of horrible, doesn’t it?”

you take their hand and outstretch both your arms so that you can spread their fingers out splayed between yours, curiously brushing before interlocking and marveling quietly at something as simple but utterly beautiful as that — holding hands. you think about it all the time, how people have evolved this particular thing to mean something so sacred, so personal.

imagine, evolving language, physicality to express a need for intimacy — for love. it’s awful. it’s dizzying. you think it’s too beautiful for you to understand and that’s fine.

“scary. terrifying. like being looked through. like if somebody can look at you that way, maybe they could see all your veins, and maybe they wouldn’t love the way the bones sit underneath. maybe earnest honesty could be turned aside. it’s fucking paralyzing.

“i am the kind of creature who happens to someone, aren’t i? a little more like an event or a fixed point than a person.”

unaware are you in the way to speak. your words are simple and constant, perpetual, fall out of your mouth like rain as it patters. when you smile, it’s sweetly dimpled — overwhelmingly similar to a kindness you have often forgotten yourself capable of.

“i hope i’ve been a catalyst for the positive.”