#mxndayblues

Sofia hung from the power rack, hands covered in chalk to prevent blistering from repeated pull-ups. While her body was curvy, it was also strong ---wide hips bet with defined abs, leading up to muscled arms, flexing while they held her weight. This was her safe place; somewhere she could go to sweat out the problems that came with the rest of the world. She often lost herself in the motions, her mind going blank to focus on nothing more than steady breathing ---her own form of meditation. 

When she heard the door click open, Sofia paused at the bottom of a set, her head instinctually snapping towards the source of the sound. In the doorway, she saw Monday, thin as ever and with a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite place. She dropped from the rack, landing softly on her feet, and wiped the chalk from her hands on her legs. 

      “Long time, no see. I thought you might have gotten sick of me.”

nate knocked on monday’s door loudly and repeatedly, a full bottle of whiskey in the hand that hung by his side. ever since athena had rejected him he’d been drinking every chance he got. this was exactly why he stayed detached, he couldn’t handle the pain. he had let himself actually feel something for athena, and it had done nothing but cause him pain. she wanted to be with someone else more than him, and that was what killed him the most. knowing that someone else was out there giving her everything he wanted to. so instead of dealing with his pain in a healthy way he decided drinking was the only viable option for him. who better to get fucked up with than monday?

when she opened he didn’t even try to fake a smile as he stepped inside. “you know that girl i was telling you about earlier? well apparently there’s someone else out there for her. so if you’re not busy i’d love to drink until i blackout.” he knew he was pathetic, but this had always been his coping mechanism. when his parents had died he turned to harder drugs, and while his pain wasn’t intense enough to warrant that extreme of a reaction, alcohol would be enough to numb and distract himself for at least a couple hours.

🎭 say how they are really feeling

it had been a little while since nate had just gone out for a night of drinking and fun, and while he knew that monday was much more of a get-drunk-and-high-at-home-then-go-to-bed type he had dragged her along with him. with parker gone, harper mad at him, and augustus in his funk he didn’t have anyone else to bring along. of course there was always athena, but there was something different about going out with your girlfriend (or whatever athena was) then going out with a friend. so, nate and monday had ended up at alastor’s and he had wasted no time in downing a few shots right as they walked through the door. most people hated going to their place of work off the clock, but nate loved it. it was the perfect atmosphere for him to let loose in. 

nate was leaned against the bar ordering another drink when a girl walked up to him who was clearly way too drunk to function. it was clear what she wanted from him, and a couple months ago he would have gladly given it to her, but things with he and athena were getting pretty serious now and no amount of hot drunk blondes would cause him to jeapordize that. he saw monday a couple feet away in the crowd and gave her a panicked look, and when she finally came over nate grinned widely at her. “there you are babe,” he said as he threw his arm over her shoudlers and pulled her in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. as soon as the blonde realized she wasn’t going to get what she wanted from nate she excused herself back into the crowd. nate’s arm fall from monday’s shoulder and he let out a small laugh, “sorry, she was being really persistent and i’m not going to fuck this up with athena so i needed saving. looks like the junkie became the hero for a second.”

Friday sighed, and leaned over to bump shoulders with Mona. He stayed there and let his head fall against hers, his hand moving to grab her own and force it to relax into his palm, itnto his fingers, until their hands were intertwined. It was slow, like ice melting into water, allowing her to let go of her tension at her own pace. Once they were there, he gave her hand a squeeze and held it tight as he spoke to her. 

      “You’re good enough.” 

He smiled, though where his head was, there was no way for her to see it. His eyes were sad, however, as they always were when Mona spoke lowly of herself. She was everything to him, his everything, and no matter how she saw herself, he would see her as the very centre of his world. No matter where he went, he would always come back. If not for his mother, or the familiarity of this town, then for her. 

      “You’re good enough, for me.”

😇 - Does your muse pretend to be innocent if they’ve done something wrong?

      That depends on what it is. It’s most likely that he’ll wallow in guilt and simply not be able to hide it, so that anyone ---especially the people who know him well--- will be able to tell that he’s hiding something. If he’s confronted about it, he’ll own up.

👥 - Is there anyone they wish they had never met?

      Does his dad count? 

      Realistically, he wishes the vampire that had turned him had never come across his dying body. It would be easier if he had been left to die.

🔥 - In a fire, they can only save three things (including people). Who/what do they save?

“now stop worrying and get dressed.” ((past))

      His calm was in direct contrast to the tornado of emotions he had just experienced —he was drained, defeated, simply lacking the motivation to continue FREAKING. Outside, at least. In his head, his brain spun on a dime, thoughts zooming past him so quickly it made him dizzy. He had to lay down. He couldn’t stand up. Public speaking would never be his strong suit, but especially not in front of a class filled with bullies and people who didn’t know he existed. He couldn’t decide which was worse. 

      “Mona, my darling Mona…” 

      He could only mumble, and while his debilitating nerves were all too real, he was being DRAMATIC and he knew it. She knew it too, of course. 

      “——If I go in just my boxers, do you think they’ll remember me?”

“who am i to judge? i’m the worst of all!” ((past))

      “No.” 

      Dimitri’s voice was firm, intentionally so —something easy for him to do only because he was so sure of his words. As he spoke, he rest one of her hands, open-faced, in his own palm, while the fingers of his other hand traced the lines in hers. His eyes drifted from their hands and up to her eyes, where they remained locked, head tilted down to look directly at her. 

      “You’re not. Mona, you’re not.” 

      His head shook, slow and steady, calm and solid for her benefit alone. It would have been so easy for him to shed a tear, hearing her speak of herself like that. It was nothing new coming from her, but it only hurt more each time she said it. 

      He curled his hand around hers, wrapping his delicate, spindly fingers around her strong, hard fist. His other hand moved, balled up in a fist of its own, to press against her chest where her heart would be. 

¿ - for my muse to ask yours a personal or uncomfortable question