#paras;

It’d been an hour or so since he’d arrived at the luxury hotel for the evening, time which he’d spent enjoying a flute glassful from the complimentary chardonnay and one of the mint chocolates that came with the suite. Flynn wasn’t surprised at checking in first, even if the vacation had been Roxie’s prize -- he was the one that had been residing in the city for a few years now while everyone else had remained somewhat transient. He didn’t mind the peace that came with the quiet, lounging on the couch, boots long since kicked off to revel in the full comfort that came with the cool leather.

He’d meant to sit up once more as soon as his ears prickled with the soft click of the door, responding to the keycard on the other side, but his large form had sunken in so far that he was ill-prepared for the flurry of motion that rushed towards him. Blonde hair tickled at the lips and nose as slender arms slipped around the male’s neck before standing up again to give her best motherly scolding of a look. “Billy Flynn Josue Motier, don’t tell me you’ve already popped the free wine without us!”

@heavxnlyview livraria café

Mau dia, mau dia, mau dia! Essa frase gritava por todo o dia na mente da professora de japones, que parecia estar tendo um azar. A manhã não fora nada fácil e nem seria até o final do dia. Com o carro na revisão, a mulher tivera de deixar a filha de oito anos na escola com a ajuda de táxi e então poderia seguir para o colégio de ensino médio qual lecionava. Era a volta das aulas então não tinha muito o que fazer, além da boa e velha inicialização de interação com a turma e uma reunião com os demais professores. Reunião essa que quase fez com que a Goo dormisse de olhos abertos. Ela precisava de cafeína urgentemente. E foi com esse pensamento que a mesma voltaria para a casa. Mas a forte chuva que começou a cair sobre sua cabeça estava querendo acabar com seus planos.

To say the least, Saraya still had many doubts about showing up to see Colby. Sure she had covered the scratches for the most part on her face with make up (which burned from them being so fresh, still) and even over outlined her lips to make them look fuller so that the her swollen lips didn't look ... well, too bad. But she still didn't look or feel herself. Not only did her body still feel extremely sore, but emotionally she didn't feel present. She felt numb and like she would just breakdown into tears at any given moment. But the only thing that pushed her forward into going to see Colby was that she missed him. Way too much. Because, the only thing worse than relieving what she went through in her head over and over again, was being away from him. <\p>

Taking the back of her palm, Raya tried her best to wipe as much of her smeared make up off of her face as possible. She was so tired last night from her up and down sleeping schedule that she just fell asleep with it on. And when she woke up to the message by Joe, she didn’t have time to wash her face or even detangle the knots in her hair. She was finally standing right outside of the room that Colby was in after a nurse had led her the way. She told the nurse that she just needed a moment, granted she had already sat in the car crying for ten minutes and that didn’t seem to help make her feel calm.

In just twenty four hours, Saraya realized she had gone from feeling completely disowned to her family, to fighting and making up with Colby to this, whatever this was that involved her sitting in a hotel room, completely alone. Her head had never felt so heavy. She had never felt so conflicted with needed space, wanting to get away and missing Colby all in one. Because as much as she was hurting, as difficult as it was for her to see him and not feel immense hurt - she also /needed/ him in the same regards and missed him as much as she was hurting.

She had went from sleeping beside him in the same bed every single night to sleeping without him, something she hadn’t going through in months, and it was painful. A part of her wish she could just be mad at him and kee him away, it would save him to trouble of seeing her like this (with her hair messily pulled in a bun and wearing the shorts and top from yesterday, with the jacket he had given her by her side), but she just didn’t feel strong enough to /not/ see him. Grabbing her phone, she messaged him and typed up a quick text reading “the doors open,” and then faced toward the wall at the edge of the bed, sitting alone with all of her thoughts for just a few more moments before she knew who was about to enter the room.