it was safe to say that for once in his life, malachi felt out of his element --- he’s not sure when he became that guy, the one who’d prefer to stay in and do absolutely nothing than go out to a club full of a sea of dancing, sweaty bodies with bottomless drinks to set the tone of the night. but he thinks this boys’ trip to mykonos could be good for him, especially when ophelia had managed to convince the others if she could tag along. and in truth, malachi wouldn’t be as adamant to make this trip a good one if it wasn’t for her. it’s why he’s twisting and turning as he maneuvers his way through the crowd with two drinks in his hand, proud that he made his way to the girl unharmed as he hands her a drink. ‘ i’m not sure what the fuck that is, so if you don’t like it, too bad, ’ he’s teasing over the thumping bass of the club music, throwing his head backwards to down the liquid contents in his shot glass as he fully faces ophelia, offering a small grin. ‘ you havin’ fun yet ?  i’m starting to think this might be more your scene than mine now. ’ @ophclics

i can't fall in love without you - zara larssonhallelujah - leonard cohen24 hrs - olly mursslow dancing in a burning room - john mayerfences - paramorethere's nothing holdin' me back - shawn mendes

malachi: i don't remember a small portion of that night so don't hold whatever i may have said to you against me

it shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone that malachi’s navigating his way towards ophelia’s apartment once again after their text message exchange, one of his -tshirts in hand and his heart on his sleeve. although this time, he’s not sure what to expect when the pair are within the same vicinity nowadays. their relationship was constantly shifting like ocean tides, any progress they’ve made rebuilding their friendship crashing in only a matter of seconds. and while he’s well aware of the fact that maybe he should feel guilty for the night they shared in mykonos, he doesn’t think it’s possible. at least, not when it was with her. but he’s attempting to shake off any nerves that were threatening to show, twisting the doorknob open to discover that the door was unlocked, securing it once he shuts it behind him for her safety. her apartment is vaguely still new territory to malachi, but it doesn’t take long for him to discover the girl laying in her bed, taking the initiative to sit at the edge of the mattress, ‘ got you this, ‘ he murmurs in referral to his shirt, figuring it wasn’t much, but it was a start, at least.  ‘ ...look, i’m sorry, phe. just tell me how to fix this, and i will. ‘ @ophclics

in retrospect, this wasn’t the brightest idea --- given his recent track record with alcohol and ophelia herself, there were about a million reasons why malachi shouldn’t be on his way to the girl’s apartment for a drinking competition, nevertheless. but the one reason that rules out the rest is that he’s up for the challenge, and the simple fact that he’s never truly been able to say no to her. even if he was the one who insinuated it first, she was willing to play along, and it’s almost out of pure instinct that he’s jumping at any chance to spend time with her, really. in his eyes, it’s harmless, and he likes to think they’re making up for lost time. despite visiting her new place once, malachi practically knows the way there by heart now, unable to conceal the smirk growing upon his lips as he allows himself inside ( the door was unlocked, after all ), a bottle of vodka tucked under one arm and a bottle of jack daniel’s in the other. ‘ really hope you put on pants like you promised you would ! my virgin eyes aren’t gonna be able to handle it, ’ malachi calls out into the apartment, eyes screwed shut for the added dramatic effect. things between them felt good, and he could only hope that it’d last for as long as possible. @ophclics

in a festival that felt so innocent and so pink, there was no indication that malachi was gonna get as wasted as he was ... on the first night, at least. thanks to the workings of his friends, they managed to get him dressed in a pink onesie with barely any recollection of the night before, except for a few performances here and there. and of course, occasionally bumping into ophelia here and there, even when she desperately attempted to avoid crossing paths with the boy in any way. it’s the one thing he remembers, and although they were on good terms a few days ago, he thinks it’s his novel-length instagram post dedicated to her that’s to blame. there’s a chance she’s just busy with running and actually enjoying girl crush, that he shouldn’t dwell on something so minuscule. and that seemed to work, until his peripheral catches her with him. it’s a feeling he still isn’t accustomed to despite the amount of years it’s been, so it doesn’t take malachi much convincing to drink it away, just to loosen up a bit. but he doesn’t realize the one shot’s nearly turning into double digits before it’s too late, stumbling aimlessly by the ferris wheel until a rushed figure collides into him. ‘ sorry, i was... ’ he slurs, reaction delayed as he steadies himself, the spinning ceasing for only a moment to see ophelia standing in front of him. malachi can’t help but laugh at the irony, even inebriated, as he holds out his alcoholic pink drink towards her. ‘ really great festival, phe. did i tell you that already ? or were you too busy avoiding me for me to say anything ? ’ @ophclics

in a picture-perfect world, this would’ve been a seemingly normal day for malachi – – wake up around noon, attempt to crack his week long writer’s block, fail, mindlessly scroll through his social media ( even occasionally checking up on his ex before he’s reprimanding himself almost immediately after ), and that was that. but it’s today of all days that he decides to delve into the source of his writer’s block and visit a record shop that had practically been his sanctuary the five years he’s lived in new york. he feels nothing short of a cliche, but he was desperate, and if hunting for underrated records was the solution to gain some inspiration, then so be it. malachi’s content, flipping through various records: that is, until an all too familiar silhouette veers into his peripheral. he swears he’s trapped in some twisted romantic comedy, whatever higher power there was mocking his misfortune as the color physically drains from his body, slowly moving his head to fully face the girl beside him. with the way his heart’s thumping wildly against his ribcage, it has to be her; it’s the effect she’s always had on the male, whether it was years ago, or even now, apparently. ‘ hey, ’ he voices a little too quickly before he can retract it, not knowing why he isn’t making a run for it, why he isn’t pretending he hadn’t seen the girl that walked out on him years ago. ‘ it’s, uh... it’s me. ’ @ophclics

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