Ich will seine Nähe aber traue es nicht ihm zu sagen weil meine Laune vorhin nicht okay war und ich ihn schlecht behandelt habe.
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Ich will seine Nähe aber traue es nicht ihm zu sagen weil meine Laune vorhin nicht okay war und ich ihn schlecht behandelt habe.

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it gets a little easier each time you make it disappear. fingers tighten against themselves in the wide pockets of the swath of her yellow skirt, eyes glassy as she walks down the street and with every step further from the lovely hotel and fatherâs glowering and motherâs murmuring. they are cross with each other. they are always cross. itâs easier to escape on these trips into the city; they let her shop on her own and constance had heard her motherâs wheedling voice in her own when she said she was going out to look for a new dress.
IâM A SHAKING HAND WITHOUT A CONCRETE PLAN! she stops at a corner, watching the light across the street and stepping off the curb a moment after it flickers, changes. she could walk forever. she could walk right off the side of the island and into the cold, brackish water. if only she had merricat here with her - then they could vanish beneath the surface, siren-like, and swim away.
itâs a silly thought. âhow far to the river?â she asks first figure she spots, voice drifting and lost in the sound of traffic and feet on pavement. perhaps she was heard anyhow. @psychexchâ
@psychexchâ âĽ
he feels like heâs made out of spit. david opens his eyes and closes them immediately-- just in case they dribble out of his sockets. something is humming but not in a sing-songy way. itâs the static droning of a machine trying to breathe but forgetting itâs a rhythm, not just one long exhale. for a second there, david wholeheartedly believes heâs going to melt off the couch and trickle into the nearest crack in the floor but that doesnât happen. he stays solid and aware. heâs not spit, heâs a spine with some wires and four heavy limbs attached to it.
âshit.â he mutters. sometimes he gets angry at the sheer fact that heâs awake. take two, david opens his eyes again. he knows what heâs going to see. the floor, some furniture and then elliot, vaguely. david sniffs as he sits up, making sure to shuffle as loud as possible to let his host know heâs awake. he drags a hand down his face, cups his right cheek with it. it feels swollen. elliot is probably looking at him now, he doesnât check.
âi had that dream again.â he says. starts out slow and quiet but warms up as the words keep coming. âthe one with the-- the... a world where people, um, pay for their things... like, coffee, with their teeth. they go to the counter and every time you um, want to pay you have to--â he pulls at an invisible object next to his mouth and clicks his tongue as he yanks it out of its imaginary socket. a bloodied tooth lands on the coffee table but david knows itâs not there, not really.
now he can look at elliot but without the intention to actually meet his gaze. itâs too early in the day for that. for now, david just glances towards the general presence of elliot. âwhat, uh, what about you? did you sleep--... what time is it??â
groupchat is watching t.ua s1 & this is the mood every time le*nard shows up
 â okay, so i know itâs crammed and not... perfect. â she shifted, â you said you needed a change of pace and... i need help, so, i mean iâm gonna use the office anyways, but i could use the help. â      /     âĄÂ  :  @psychexchâ.

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@psychexchâ said ;  â that makes sense just as much as it doesnât. â
just the way she likes it, then. there are times making LITTLE sense to those around you is a boon rather than a problem, and this is one of them. does she feel bad, just a little, for keeping elliot so WHOLLY in the dark? YES. itâs for everyoneâs sake, though. those of them who arenât part of this cycle can rarely seem to comprehend it, or think it some feverish imagining, or some worries of the future she cannot contain the way those around her do. out of everyone she has met, pearl thinks elliot stands the most CHANCE of not discounting her wholly, but he doesnât NEED to know. not yet.
the smile she offers is near vacant and she leans back in her chair,  âsorry,â fingers are steepled before her lips,  âwould a different story be better?â
THE Â WITCHER Â STARTERS Â - Â ACCEPTING
   â you lost,  puppy? â more like feral, terrified mutt than a puppy but still. â this place ainât open; who are you running from? no bullshit. â  //:  ⥠ ââ @psychexchâ.
@psychexchâ
The baggie of comes to rest in Nemoâs lap, with one sugar pill sitting pretty in the palm of their hand. Itâs useless until they coat it, and they donât want to look shitty by holding that back from Elliot - but Neev has got Nemo really safety first about the whole thing.
Which is a shitty thing to be annoyed about. They are being shitty, in some way or other.
  âDo you usually dream?â
Itâs coming at the tail of some standard warnings: Donât take this standing up, donât leave any windows open, donât mix with alcohol or any other substances. They got a little graphic with that last one. Itâs just that choking up is a shitty way to go. âSome people get freaked out... They dream usually, then they donât with me. And it scares âem.â