#oforchids

ZELLY: are we still good?

       head pressed against mountain of pillows beneath her, zahra takes a long drag from the joint hanging loosely from her lips. she’s floating on a cloud — no seriously, if it weren’t for the familiar ceiling of her los angeles home. the waves of the ocean swelling through her ears, the girl tilts her head to steal a glimpse of the figure by her side. ❛ y’know— ❜ zahra hums softly under her breath, as she passes the joint over to the other. ❛ let’s get..., ❜ she pauses to ogle up at the other in fascination. this ought to have been the stupidest thing she’d ever suggested ( although zahra was known for her bizarre impulses ) but it seemed..., well— it seemed fun. ❛ let’s get married, ❜ she says with a small laugh as she bites down on her lower lip, nervously looking to the other for a response. 

verona: i know you're mad at me, but i miss you.

       “you’re late.”