#starlightfreed

–Harvey Spector and Jessica Pearson, "Suits 1x01"

her words pull him free from the haze that had fallen, a small frown pulling between his brows. " musa ? " his head tilts at her demand, pain swelling behind one eye, one hand lifting to press against his brow. " ugh, ouch. shit... " he supposes the cause of that pain must be what she's asking about, but he honestly doesn't even remember getting hurt. " not to sound mad, but i actually don't know. " he mutters gently, frown deepening, tilting his head back to rest against the wall behind him. " fucking hurts though. think you can help me back to my room ? " for once, he allowed a sliver of vulnerability into his tone, needing her to know this wasn't some play. that he actually needed her help.

it was almost depressing, crammed as he was between multiple happy couples, alone. they'd all been herded towards the dancefloor, but where most had a partner to twirl to the music pulsing around them, he had... himself. gaze shifts around the room, attempting to discover some way out of the total humiliation these particular photographs would bring him for years to come. it's in his search that his gaze connects with a woman seemingly in a similar situation as himself, if her equally panicked search for an exit was anything to go by. eyes close for a moment, taking the time to swallow down his pride before making his way towards the brunette. " uh... sorry to intrude and absolutely tell me to go away if i'm wrong but... are you um... without a partner also ? perhaps we could... team up ? " a sheepish smile creeps across the corners of his lips, leaning in just slightly. " we could save one another from this torture...? "

he  stills  beneath  the  touch  of  the  older  quinlan  woman,  breath  freezing  on  his  lips  as  she  lifts  her  hand  to  brush  a  broken  leaf  from  where  it  had  settled  in  his  hair.  the  gesture  seemed  almost  instinctual  from  her,  a  mother  used  to  caring  for  those  she  at  least  perceived  as  younger,  but  it  stole  the  breath  from  his  lungs;  so  unused  to  such  a  maternal  action.  his  own  mother  likely  would  have  scolded  him  for  his  dishevelled  appearance,  reminded  him  of  the  importance  of  perfection.  she  would  have  been  sickened  at  the  prospect  of  this  human  woman  touching  him  in  any  such  way,  but  he  felt  much  the  opposite.  remembering  to  breathe,  to  allow  a  smile  that  did  not  quite  touch  his  eyes  to  flicker  across  his  lips,  head  inclining  only  a  fraction.  “  thank  you.  i  should  take  more  care  in  these  winds.  ”  he  can  hear  the  tightness  to  his  own  voice,  but  he  does  not  shift  away  despite  knowing  he  should  break  the  contact,  hoping  she  would  not  take  offence  to  his  tone  when  it  was  not  her,  but  the  past  that  haunted  him. 

HE  DOES  NOT  MAKE  A  HABIT  OF  REMOVING  HIS  HELMET,  especially  not  in  front  of  others,  but  something  about  the  golden  princess  before  him  left  him  conflicted  on  the  matter.  thus  he  had  allowed  her  to  see  his  true  face,  the  one  that  held  the  marks  of  the  very  life  he  wished  to  forget;  the  boy  he  had  destroyed  so  long  ago.  his  lips  quirk  some  at  her  question,  leaning  back  against  the  wall,  gaze  shifting  over  her  for  a  slow  moment.  “  you  may  ask  --  i  may  not  allow  you  the  pleasure  of  an  answer,  however,  princess.  ”  pushing  away  from  the  wall,  making  his  way  over  to  where  she  stood  within  the  frame,  a  hand  lifting  to  rest  against  the  wood  for  a  moment,  leaning  closer.  “  ask  what  it  is  you  wish  to  know,  cleiona...  ”  he  murmurs  lowly,  free hand  lifting,  twirling  a  perfect  golden  curl  between  his  fingers.  “  i  am  not  quite  a  mind  reader,  i  am  afraid.  ”

@starlightfreed​  |  felicia  ward.

*    ⟢   ERIKA AANENSON & GEMMA PORTER & EMBER GRAVES. →   ft. @gracefallen & @starlightfreed

deep sigh exhales with a puff of smoke, eyes rolling skyward as though he might find the answers to this particularly stubborn shadow among the stars littering the sky above. " i do not sound like that. " he murmurs, shifting into a more comfortable position against the wall, jaw clenching and unclenching, debating saying anything further before eventually adding: " but i mean -- it's not exactly wrong, eh ? " head falls back lightly, avoiding her eyes, focusing on the stars once more. " i know you don't really... get it. but that's a good thing, havana. i hope you keep the optimism you keep trying to shove down my throat. although, i'd be more careful with it around ramona. sometimes i genuinely wonder if you have a literal death wish... " hopefully the redirect will distract her away from questioning his own demeanour; he wasn't oblivious to the way people viewed him.