#shatteredges

fingers made quick work of the wrapper despite the fact that his entire body was nearly vibrating with excitement. it didn’t take much to bring him happiness, but fresh cotton candy? that put him on a whole different level. ignoring the twist tie at the bottom, he ripped into the top, splitting the plastic covering right down the middle.

“i imagine this is what clouds taste like.” after showing a bit of the pink fluff into his mouth, he looked up at the other. “but... spicier probably.” it should have been clear in that moment that he hadn’t really thought this one through. “you know, with all the lightening and everything. probably wetter too because of the rain.”

as he rambled on the different types of weather, he kept shoving more and more into his mouth before finally offering it to the other. “what do you think lightening tastes like? sprite? i feel like it tastes like sprite.”

❛    𝐎𝐇    ,  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄  𝐎𝐍  ,  𝐖𝐇𝐘  𝐃𝐎  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐁𝐄  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  ?      ❜

a  coy  expression  wears  just  fine  upon  his  features  ,  there’s  still  a  shred  of  hope  for  adventure  in  his  gaze  even  though  he’s  well  aware  that  this  may  not  be  the  time  or  place  for  it  .  still  ,  xavier  shrugs  it  off  ---  just  as  he  does  her  callous  tone  .  it’s  with  dramatic  fashion  that  he  points  back  to  the  ring  behind  him  ,  what  is  left  of  the  fighter  in  his  wake  being  carried  out  as  cheers  still  continue  .  ❛      quickest  knockout  on  record  ,  i’m  pretty  sure  ,  besides  ---  think  about  it  ,  people  will  be  talking  about  it  for  a  while  i  bet  .  you  just  have  to  see  the  lighter  side  ,  right  ?      ❜

                     ❛      𝐈𝐅  𝐈  𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓  𝐈𝐓  𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇  ,  𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘      ❜

a  smile  ,  the  teasingly  dangerous  kind  of  grin  that  creeps  along  the  corners  of  his  mouth  is  visible  ,  clear  as  day  --  and  just  as  amused  when  he  shrugs  shoulders  .  he  knows  too  well  by  now  how  to  get  what  he  wants  ,  and  while  it  is  an  obvious  mistake  to  allow  himself  so  close  to  the  other  ,  he  maintains  a  steady  enclosure  form  regardless  .  there’s  all  too  often  a  mistake  lingering  in  the  back  of  every  action  (  and  inaction  )  when  it  comes  to  tiago  ,  but  taemin  doesn’t  bother  to  heed  such  loud  warnings  echoing  in  the  back  of  his  mind  ,  he  simply  embraces  the  inevitable  .  a  hand  ,  gentle  enough  where  only  the  fingertips  ghost  along  the  other’s  curls  beneath  tiago’s  palm  before  he  finds  comfort  to  close  the  slight  gap  between  hand  lines  and  softens  the  sharp  smile  upon  his  lips  .  ❛    is  that  such  a  bad  thing  ?  do  you  think  i  have  bad  intentions  ?        ❜

❛        ---  yeah  ,  i  didn’t  think  it  was  going  to  be  easy  ,  but  you’re  here        ❜

@shatteredges​​ : “ i was ignoring you. ”

Positive  that  he’d  never  see  her  again,  Max  grew  to  forget  her.   Chalk  it  up  to  yet  another  friendship  lost  ---  something  he  should  be  used  to  by  now.   Maybe  these  are  the  psychological  growing  pains  his  mother  warned  him  about  before  her  untimely  death.   A  death  that  shocked  him;   a  shock  that’s  comparable  to  what  he’s  feeling  right  now.   It’s  her,  the  friend  he’s  done  such  a  good  job  at  forgetting,  standing  in  front  of  him  in  some  pizza  joint  that  he’s  never  frequented  before.   He  would  call  it  fate,  if  only  he  still  believed  in  that  sort  of  thing.

         ❛    lets  dance  around  the  mess  we've  made  call  someone  up  let's  score  an  eighth  to  sit  and  relax .  there's  nothing  we  can  do  about  the  past      ❜

❛      𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑  ?  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐒𝐄𝐄  𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏  𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄  ?      ❜

his  head  buries  beneath  the  pillow  ,  suffocating  the  sounds  of  everything  around  him  .  it’s  not  much  ,  but  the  way  his  head  pounds  is  inexcusable  ,  the  voice  of  his  sister  is  no  different  ,  radiating  across  his  eardrums  like  nails  on  a  chalkboard  .  a  voice  grumbles  out  a  curse  ,    memory  working  hard  to  figure  out  where  the  hell  he  was  and  just  how  he’d  gotten  there  before  he  speaks  something  a  little  bit  more  legible  in  response  ,  though  his  voice  is  muffled  by  the  pillow  still  buried  over  his  head      ❛      trust  me  ,  i’m  alive  ,  just  need  a  good  cup  of  coffee  and  maybe  ….  twelve  advil  ,  yeah  ?     ❜