smiles,  she’s learned well enough over the years,  can mask any number of things.  just because a person’s smiling doesn’t mean they’re happy  ---  addison knows that better than most.  or maybe she’s just being dramatic.  maybe she’s so used to every relationship falling apart somehow.  eventually.  so.....  maybe it’s her.  maybe she’s just doing something wrong here.  if she is?  god,  addison can’t think of what it is she’s doing to cause every significant relationship she has with anybody to implode.  it could be time for some serious introspection.  hopefully this time it won’t consist of dyeing her hair blonde and eventually winding up living on the other side of the country   (   though she’ll admit there’s a part of her that truly misses new york   ).

arms cross over her chest,  a well-practiced defense mechanism that pairs well with the way she ducks her head in the hopes it’ll mask the way tears have begun to sting her eyes.  it doesn’t occur to her in the moment that the emotion shining through in her voice may very well give her away.   “that sounds like the exact sort of thing a person who isn’t happy to see someone else would say to cover up that fact,  petra.  listen,  if i’ve done something to upset you,  you can tell me.  i’m all ears!  even you screaming at me would be better than this.....  apathy,”

different ways to say ‘i love you’ || accepting!

                    “oh, trust me, there’s no place i’d rather be.”  not quite entirely accustomed to the new twang of her voice, even as her lips (the mask’s lips) form the words.  blonde locks fall straight, thin, heavy and hot - the remark is nothing more than a lie, as most are; given her druthers, somewhere without the mask was far preferable (with few, specific exceptions - it isn’t as though every situation were comparable).  susanna barnett is far more familiar than rose was.  “is there anything i can do to help?”

mun meme. 

i am currently drinking a can of schweppes lemonade

i have no idea what my sexuality is but cate blanchett vc. i like women

my mom once dared me to drink a cup of blood, thinking i would never do it, and just to spite her, i did ( i’m literally the most petty )

in high school, whenever i had science, i spoke with a real southern american accent, and in math, i was british. this happened for a year. i don’t know why. 

and now the fool comes out once more,  as she finds herself grinning like an idiot,  trying to get the other woman to stay a little longer.  god.  she’s never acted like this   (   that’s a lie,  but one she prefers to try and believe rather than accept the fact that she has a tendency to dive head first into idiocy around beautiful people   ).   “i’m no pediatrician,  but is there anything i can do to help?”   a pause,  as she juts out her hand to shake,   “i’m doctor montgomery by the way.  addison.  addison montgomery.  i run the practice,  so i’m happy to help.  you know,  if i can,”

          “thanks for watching her, petra.” jane offered a grateful smile, stepping through the door upon the other woman’s opening of it. she’d had to head to a meeting at school with mateo and rafael, and she thought her daughter might like to hang around at the marbella for a while, with her abuela at work and her mother with bruce. “she actually really likes hanging out with you, you know.”