#peaceseek

 a c c e p t i n g  ➟  Send me ✦ and I’ll write an incorrect quote  with our muses.

✉ ➟ ARTHUR ( @peaceseek​​​ ) sent:

∟     “I saw that. You just checked me out.”

 a c c e p t i n g  ➟  NSFW MEME

                ● ● ●                     ❝ You’re the one who waltzed into my room in a bloody bath towel! ❞

She makes a face at her co-star, shameless in her appraisal of his form despite being called out. Perhaps she’s merely heard him call himself beautiful enough times that she’s been brainwashed. Maybe this stupid press run with its endless days sat beside him in interviews and nights spent on his arms at parties is finally wearing her thin. Of course, she has no intention of actually acting upon it and that was all that truly mattered at the end of the day. She was merely...getting into Kathryn’s mindset, regarding the golden-haired boy opposite her as someone who might have something to offer her. Maybe...possibly. She’d enjoyed getting to know him over the past few weeks anyway, moments like this withstanding.

❝ Just because we have adjoining doors, it doesn’t mean that you get to make yourself at home in both of our rooms! ❞ She waves her hand towards the tray of room service goodies that she most certainly did not order, giving him a pointed look in the process. ❝ You know he’s going to run down to the front counter and tell everyone who will listen that you answered the door to my room nearly naked. ❞ 

Not that their respective managers would mind, showmances were great for business more often than not. This was just her first real job and she was uncertain how that sort of thing would reflect on her image. As a woman, she would argue that she had more at stake.

✉ ➟ ARTHUR ( @peaceseek​​​ ) sent:

∟     “ do you regret letting me close ?”

 a c c e p t i n g  ➟  drunken confession meme

          ● ● ●                     ❝ I didn’t invite you over to talk about our feelings, Pendragon. ❞

Of course, she hadn’t invited him over at all. He had just shown up, waltzed past her when she opened the door and made himself properly at home in her space. ( Such an arrogant, unmitigated prat! ) Then again, she was the one pouring them their drinks and for all her dizzying intellect, she can’t even remember what round they’re on by now. As if to punctuate that thought, she downs the rest of the amber liquid sloshing around in her glass. Sometimes it fascinated her how centuries of hatred and loathing could end up like this. The new normal.

She despises how much she looks forward to these little intrusions on the monotony of her life.

❝ I regret a lot of things, ❞ she admits, finally. Her attention is diverted for a moment by pouring them both another drink, her gaze leisurely appraising each form and shape of his body before their eyes actually meet and the glass is passed between them. Fingertips graze, the electricity - the fire - is always, always there. Blunt teeth tug at the crimson lacquered flesh of a lower lip, the flush on her face surely just a byproduct of all the liquor.

In any case, the two of them together in any capacity was fundamentally wrong. Not in some trite Christian sort of way, but in a vast cosmic and fateful reckoning of the world type way. In their time he had once stood for everything that she had hated and she --- well, one really shouldn’t be senselessly fucking the ex of their best mate who might as well have killed him too.

Not that it stopped them from going at each other like that war wasn’t already long over. Oh, the marks they left on each other! The hard-won battle wounds that barely had time to heal before new ones were added. Nimue breathes deeply just thinking about it, swaying before settling on the sidearm of her chair that he has made his current throne. The fingers of her free hand grab his chin, not that the brace is necessary. 

As if he could drag his eyes away from her.

He’s an idiot on the best of days. He’s stolen both time and freedom from her. He’s spoken to her in ways that others had died for. He has hurt her and she has allowed it, just as she had done the same in reverse. They’re twin flames, trying to see who can reach greater - more depraved - heights. 

But sometimes they talk to one another. Really talk. There is no one else in this great wide world who can understand them better. Past the flesh. Beneath the blood and bones. There are moments where they can be suffocatingly normal. Almost good for one another if someone would dare admit it. A sigh escapes her parted lips, the pad of her thumb tracing the curve of his lower lip.