#sharmanwrites

❃ hayden dancing with lily.

“y’know, you’re not actually bad at this.” lily pointed out, one hand placed tentatively on hayden’s chest. they’d taken to the floor at some charity ball, accidentally pushed together in the crowd moving to the dance floor. everyone seemed to be too wrapped up in each other to notice the two rivals dancing. “did you know i was made to do cotillion in high school? it was awful, i hated it. i hate this less, though.” she said, a smile gracing her features. “don’t let it get to your head, though.”

↱ hayden getting lost with lily.

lils and hayden are SUPER competitive with each other (surprise surprise) but like not only with the making each other jealous constantly tryna one-up each other crap but like. they play words with friends and drunk jenga and dumb games like that which they get full on riled up over. they’re honestly children wtf

every now and then lily drags hayden onto her private jet and they go to some remote place. mostly to bang but also they may or may not wake up spooning!! but they always come back really tanned and glowing and too happy and everyone around them is really suspicious for like a week but it blows over so it’s cool

SAFFIYA ON GRAYSON

“Let me tell you about this boy - a boy with eyes the color of the ocean on a cloudy day, and a smile that’s… rare, yes, but possibly the most enchanting thing you’ll ever see in your entire lifetime. Calling him a boy isn’t quite right, calling him a man’s too mediocre, Grayson… Grayson’s something else. He’s more like… magic to me, someone who could tell me a complete lie and make me believe it. His words can put me under a trance, the way his lips wrap around each syllable and that accent of his that makes everything sound like music - he’s like walking poetry. He’s not just beautiful, he excites and moves you - he makes you feel something, deep in your gut. Not butterflies but bulldozers, yes, bulldozers just parading in your stomach - I don’t know if he has that effect on everyone or if it’s just me.

I met him when I was still pretty young - well, we were practically the same age, but he seemed light years older than me. He had read all the books I’ve been too afraid to pick up, and he brings up conversations about philosophy as if it was as simple as the weather. He had stars in his eyes yet a knife for a tongue - someone like him should not have been with someone like me. Maybe that’s why we didn’t work - humans shouldn’t even dream of touching the sun, and yet there he was - sleeping beside me every night, holding me tight and whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

Perhaps I should have known I was bound to get burnt.

In the span of two years, things have changed and I’m sure he has too - I don’t even know if whatever I’m telling you is still accurate. I haven’t talked to him since…. since then, but all I’m sure of is that I miss him. Terribly and constantly - I miss him. This is the first and only time I’m allowing myself to say this out loud… but no one will ever fill the hole he left in my heart, and some part of me will always belong to him. I mean, he was my everything - it’s not easy to let go of someone who you devoted your life to for a few years, and I… I…. fuck, I’m still in love with him, aren’t I?”

ELLE ON LINK

“Link? Link? You expect me to tell you all about this guy I’ve known since forever in one sitting? God, where do I even begin? Well his name’s Lincoln Howard Drewett, he’s the best damn architect in this whole city, and luckily for him, he’s my best friend. He’s the textbook definition of a ‘nice guy’, the kind of guy anyone would be willing to bring home to their parents - I haven’t met a single person who didn’t like Link. He’s a real sweet guy, sickly sweet even - he’ll tell you you’re beautiful on days that you don’t even believe it, he’ll bring you breakfast in bed when you’re sick and he’ll tend to your wounds if theoretically, you fall down on the street while chasing after a cute cat. Theoretically, okay, it didn’t actually happen in real life. Certainly not to me.

Well, we’ve been with each other through all our highs and all our lows. I trust him more than anyone on this planet - he knows my what shade of lipstick I wear, my social security number, where I keep my spare keys, what brand of tampons I use - everything, the same way I know what his favorite ice cream flavor is, the mobile of his dentist, how many bones he’s broken throughout his lifetime and even what condom he buys for his many, many weird sexual encounters. If for some reason, I end up in jail, I’d use my phone call on him - I just know he’d be able to figure something out, the same way he figures everything out and lands on his feet. He’s really, truly my definition of a superhero, because it must take some superpower to be able to live with me and my mood swings for this long, some superhuman feat to be the amazing guy that he is. My point is, he’s not just a best friend to me. He’s my other half - my soulmate, even. I mean, not… soulmate soulmate, just.. someone I can see myself fighting over the last toaster strudel when we’re 80, with bad hips and in wheelchairs.