#unexpel

“--it means that something’s wrong with you.”  the skin between brows scrunches, tongue drawing against their bottom lip.  “like...very, very wrong.”  and yet--tegan can’t cry about it, say that it’s fucked.  they’re just as bad as what she’s talking about.  let’s be clear here: tegan doesn’t hurt because it’s fun, they hurt because it’s needed.  hunger curls at the bottom of their stomach always, digs its claws around their heart.  they understand about turning off the switch--but their switch always turns back on somehow, like phantom fingers keep flicking it.

@unexpel​  said  ⇝  “ healing is not linear , but it’s always moving forward . ”

nathan is shaking like a leaf on the steps of some random building  ( he’s never seen it before, windows boarded up and sign bleached by the sun ). the brick facade, like much of the rest of the town, is beginning to weather away. this particular breakdown is his fault, he can hear his father say, echoing in the darkness of his skull. for a long time now sean had been trying to hammer home the fact that nathan had to be strong if he were to assume the position of the prescott heir. the youngest prescott son wasn’t aware the family fortune came with moments like these. sitting on cold, stone stairs, knees pulled up to his chest, running fingers through his hair under the flickering streetlight. 

it begins to rain.

her name is was? natalie. she is was? in nathan’s grade. mark had told him it would be an easy session, nobody would even notice she was gone. nathan has.