#revyrie

❝   if we could  switch around the weekends,  i’d appreciate it.  ❞   what he refers to is time with ava,  as the  date of his wedding  had to be pushed slightly sooner due to the  bride’s pregnancy.   jonathan’s excitement lay entirely with the prospect of a child,  and sadly had little to do with the woman carrying it.  as he looks at mira,  an  aching truth  nags at his mind’s peace:   you won’t be a good husband to jane.  you could not be one to mira.   he swallows the inadequacy like a bitter pill, adjusts his weight, gains some confidence and erects his posture again.  it was a slip up.  it wouldn’t happen again.   ❝  you think we could do that? i want her at the ceremony.  ❞

@revyrie​ said:   “what do you want from me?” 

“the last of us” inspired sentence starters

want   is   a   deep,   pitting   ache   that   ruminates   behind   a   shelter   of   denial.      clarke,   as   always,   comes   at   her   like   a   battering   ram   designed   specifically   to   barrel   past   it.      it   hits   her   heart   behind   that   shield   like   a   spade   turning   shelled   winter   grass   to   soft,   loamy   summer   soil   in   preparation   for   the   tender   green   shoots   that   will   sprout   up   after   it.            she   isn’t   ready      ;      it   sends   her   blinking   to   her   back   heel      &      swallowing   the   welt   of   bashful   emotion   burrowing   a   notch   into   her   throat.         

her   lashes   bat   fast   enough   to   bury   it.      she   is   so   practiced   at   drawing   in   a   steadied   breath      &      affixing   a   placid   calm   across   the   marbled   bask   of   her   features   that   even   though   her   pulse   is   a   WAR   DRUM   beating   in   her   breast   that   she   can   hold   from   leaping   out   of   her   mouth   with   the   simple   tilt   of   her   tongue.      

❝   how do you think this is gonna play out,  exactly?   i’m having a hard time picturing  where  you want to go.  ❞   gone were the days where he assumed to understand  mira.   jonathan had accepted his complete illiteracy in her language,  or at least thought he had at this moment.  humility only ever came to him in waves,  and this one was brought about by frustration.  

@revyrie​ said:   “   i  can’t  tell  you  what  you’re  feeling  inside .   ” [ elizabeth for esme ,

❛  i'm sure that's what you would want though,  isn't it?  ❜   it would make things easier for elizabeth,  wouldn't it?  if she could control how i felt,  if she could have me shut it off after what she did without giving me a warning at least,  if she would've given me the right to divulge that information on my own.   there's part of me that wishes she could turn the way i feel off so i could just move on,  finish the campaign without blinking,  but i'm not cold in the way she is or maybe i would've released the information years ago.   ❛  i don't want to do this,  elizabeth,  just like i didn't want to do what you did.  maybe you can learn to respect at least the bare minimum,   only come to me if it's about the campaign since that's all you cared about to begin with.  you don't have to pretend we were more than colleagues now that you got what you wanted right?  ❜  i turn away from her and put the folders i came for and hold them up against my chest and  purse my lips together,  i won't let her in just to use me again for anything else.

❝   i can’t make a fucking boat,  why is everyone asking me that?   ❞    shouldn’t have told hurley that he was in the goddamn navy.    ❝   i was  air force.  and before you ask,  no.  i can’t put that plane back together.  hurley’s already asked me that about twenty times over.  ❞

EXHAUSTION  WEIGHS  HEAVY  IN  BONES ,   limbs  stiff  as  he  raises  an  arm  and  rests  palm  flat  against  the  wall .    a  blockade  in  her  path ,   he  is  something  solid ,   voice  softening  a  stark  contrast .     “    talk  to  me  —   please .    i  just  want  to  help .    ”