#princexss

the last bit especially 'wait for me to come home'

like, their home is so clearly within one another. Her home in him, his home in her. And he's just... so lost. like it sounds like a song he'd write to her. Like, with the message 'it's gonna be so hard to love me when i'm like this, and just hold me in your pocket bc sometimes i'm not by your side, or when i am, it might seem like i'm miles away. just try not to forget about all the good that we are. and i love you so fucking much and you need to remember that. i'll never let you go. ever. so please just... wait for me to come back to you.'

                                       "Yea, but do you think that Ringo asked to be the odd man out?                                              No, but did he end up many people's favorite? Even though                                              he was the coolest? No."

YOU'RE SO ADORABLE WHAT THE HECK

invxgorate replied to your post“munday? munday. ”

UR SO CU TE I DGI

i could never ignore you. and those ppl are dumb then cause you're hella rad. [snuggles] it's okay.

hey ily lots

                             He hasn't slept in twenty-eight hours. He's had to work until the sun comes up, and after that, he's gone to school and has studied because for once he actually cares about school. With Beau he feels like he's got something to prove. Yes, she's known him for most of her life, and she knows that he's not super intelligent (not very book smart, that is), but he knows she's far smarter than him. That he wants to keep up with her to some extent. Even he knows it's crazy but a little motivation can't hurt, right?

So he's come home through his door after being at the studio for hours, working with Noah on a few new tracks for some hipster college folk band that Valentin might have worked with at some point. There are so many, they blur together.

He skips dinner because there's not energy to make food, and he just barely makes it to the shower, letting water run over his body.But when he's got his sweat pants on and he's laying on that tiny little mattress in the middle of the floor, his chest sinks and he's finally letting it all seep in. He's alone. It's dark. It's empty. It's all so quiet and he didn't even know he was crying, or for how long he had been, until he rubs his eyes and he realizes his knuckles had gathered up the tears he's left behind. He's so done--- beyond done. He's done with everything and either he goes and jumps off the balcony of his apartment in hopes of actually snapping his neck, or he shoots up like he normally does because this normal, empty feeling he's got just eats away at him and he can't let it continue anymore. 

Neither of them are good options. For once, he makes a good choice for himself and dials up Beau's number on his phone. He needs to hear her voice at least, even if it's just her voice mail. To remind him that there's one person who'd cry over his grave. One person to stay for. He hears the click of her picking up and he doesn't even wait for her to say hello.

Send me a ship and I'll tell you...

                      It was final--- he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with Beau and maybe it's been like that the whole and only now he's realized it, or maybe it was Christmas that just shifted everything for him. He knew something would change everything this year, clearly, this was it. And he was going to get her. He will. Well, he'll try anyways. How hard is it to make your best friend fall in love with you? It should be that hard.

But what is hard is trying not to kiss her when you see her. How, now, he watched her lips move as she talked and he wondered what it'd be like for him to actually kiss her for real. Had she even been kissed before? Like, a real one? Maybe there were things she didn't tell him. Maybe all she's ever had are those sloppy make outs you get at parties or that one time you kiss a boy on a second date because you feel obligated to. Has she ever been kissed like she's the only source of oxygen on this planet, and she's a delicate being that you have to hold tightly, but also gently, or else she'll shatter. Has she ever been touched the right way before? He wanted to run his fingers over every plain of her body now. 

Now, he'd flirt with her. Now, he knew what he had to do and he found no shame in making her blush. Making small touches in random times and places. He especially liked when they went shopping a few days ago, and his fingers brush her hand while they skimmed through the same bin. He liked knowing he made her blush.

                                                        "Hey, did you ever get to make those Christmas cookies?"