#nicowtf

adelaide: what kind of shampoo do you use?

it’s not OFTEN that adelaide gets to bask in the sounds of the outdoors. in the city, there’s far too many distractions --- traffic horns, businessmen and women rushing on their way to work, the paparazzi ... in aspen, there’s almost complete silence. especially just after sunrise ... her preferred time to climb out of bed and grab herself a cup of hot chocolate. it’s not that she doesn’t adore the group she’s chosen to take this trip with, but time alone provided her with a clear mind ( and more writing material ). she’s halfway done with her hot chocolate when she snaps one last photo of the sky, and her surroundings, for snapchat, turning to head back to her cabin, hoping to get another hour or two of sleep before someone decides to wake her up. unfortunately, she’s not the only one who’s decided to venture outdoors before the majority of the crew. her slender frame knocks into one that’s all too familiar, insulated cup slipping from her grasp and dropping into the snow beneath her feet. ‘ you’ve gotta be fucking --- ’ she starts, jaw clenching as she cuts herself off, teeth pressing into her tongue as her gaze settles on the MALE she'd run into. she wishes she’d been dreaming, a nightmare proving to be more tolerable. ‘ nice one, johnny bravo. were you watching me ? ------ jesus christ, you better pay for another hot chocolate, ’ she nearly whines, bending down to pick up the now empty cup, feet kicking fresh snow over that that’s now stained. ‘ why are you even awake ? pretty sure i heard you listening to that shitty music until 3 or 4 in the morning. ’ @nicowtf

there’s a number of things that adelaide will readily admit she’s afraid of --- spiders, enclosed spaces, heights ... but one thing she refuses to claim as a fear is that of rejection. it’s common, and most everyone in new york shares it, but she prides herself on her independence. another fear that she’s recently developed ( or that’s been brought to her attention ) has something to do with nico. she’s unsure if it’s the male she’s afraid of, or losing him entirely, but either way, her heart’s beating wildly in her chest as she approaches the apartment that she thought she’d never visit. she’s carrying a tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, neatly wrapped, and she hopes that they’re still warm, despite the bitter new york air. ignoring the way her hand’s shaking, she balls it into a fist, raising it to knock once on the door, then twice. the brief pause that follows before he’s tugging the door open is enough to tempt her to turn and run the other way, but her uber’s already pulled away, and before she knows it, the male’s standing before her. she’s certain her eyes are filled with shock that he’s actually home, and terror of the realization that she needs to speak. ‘ um --- i ... baked you these, ’ she says, clearing her throat as she holds the tray out, forcing a smile onto her lips. ‘ and i ... it’s been a while. since we talked. so i just wanted to see how you were, and apologize. for whatever upset you. ’ @nicowtf

adelaide: i actually did my makeup so i hope ur ready to go out adelaide: annnnd i just realized i sent this to the wrong person adelaide: please disregard that first snap n don’t bother responding to me adelaide: i forgot to block you :-)

- what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone: st nicholas 🎅- what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone: here- what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone: here- my muse’s last text to your muse:  ❝ i’m at the 7-eleven in madison avenue and i’m sitting on the sidewalk drinking a freaking slurpee, come so you’ll look more stupid than i do right now. ❞