@paniisms.

           there’s TWO VERSIONS of isaac when he’s drunk –––––– it almost makes things easier, considering how when he’s sober there’s even more versions, versions upon versions, never-ending. always some new self she’s found in him.  this version he’s slipped in from the other ; he had knocked on her door and when she’d opened it, CHRIST, what a vision.  a lazy, goofy smile ; leaning in the doorway, leaning down to her ; eyes –––––– for the first time in a long time –––––– looking at her with A KIND OF LOVING alissa had nearly forgotten.  she had pulled him in and shut the door and started her lecture  (  ❛ isaac, you can’t come home like this ❜  )  before he’d wrapped around her.  he’d done that thing he knew she loved ; put his head into her neck and breathed hot.  and that whisper: I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU TREMBLE.  ( alissa kept in a laugh because couldn’t he tell she already was ? )  he’s on that line between the two halves of drunk isaac king : there’s something there of LOVING still, but something else of AGGRESSION.  she hums, turning around, pulling him close and kissing his jaw.  ❛ mmm, really then ?  do you PROMISE ? ❜

           alissa looks up at him with eyes swimming with EXHAUSTION ;  it is so hard to fight like this after so long ––––– five minute fights are one thing, but fights like this, the long ones, those are what hurt.  those are what really KEEP HER UP AT NIGHT, what keeps her staring at her phone over and over until he texts back, what keeps her staring at him when he isn’t looking.  ❛ isaac, don’t. ❜  alissa tries to take his hand, holding it for a moment.  maybe a truce, her fingers tell his.  a truce for tonight.  ❛ just because i want to STOP you doesn’t mean i HATE you && come on, you know that.  come here, isaac c’mere. ❜  she pulls him close as gently as she can and brings their hands to her lips, placing a small kiss there, eyes pleading up at him.  she places her other hand on theirs and sighs, looking down at entwined hands.  ❛ i don’t want to fight anymore.  don’t make me fight you anymore. PLEASE, isaac. ❜

           wendy lets out a MANGLED GASP, something between a squeal and an inhale.  she manages to get out a weak and frail whisper of  ❛ peter. ❜  she puts bony fingers around his wrist as gently as she can and she is begging.  can’t he see her begging ?  ❛ don’t do this, ❜  she chokes and she is struggling to breathe and her heart is BEATING FASTER than a rabbit’s.  ❛ peter, please, i’m sorry, please. ❜  there are tears in her eyes and there is sorrow in her voice and in her hands.  doesn’t he notice ?  ❛ anything, ❜  she whispers.  ❛ peter, listen to me, listen, listen to me PLEASE, i’ll do anything, i’m sorry. ❜  her voice is a mess of fear and hurt and anguish, and not now but later she will hate herself for the weakness she has displayed.  but for now, she’s desperate, and she has a right to be.  ❛ I AM SO SORRY, peter, please.  i’m so sorry. ❜

            ❛ –––––– no. ❜  wendy tries fast to wipe the tears from her ROSY CHEEKS, but she supposes it is no matter.  he must already know, surely.  wendy wonders if the smugness she swears she can hear in his voice is real or IMAGINED.  the image of her brothers’ faces comes to her again, and she gives a shiver, and her chest grows heavy.  she has cried many times on this island, and this is not the first time he has caught her.  wendy looks up at him with red, puffy eyes and a tight-lipped expression.  ❛ if i were, ❜  she mutters, voice pushed through tight jaw and broken heart,  ❛ it would bring you great joy, would it not ? ❜  

paniisms. //// starter call. 

@paniisms liked for a starter.

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