#wddingcrshers

@wddingcrshers​ (closed) 

it was interesting, eliza thought, to see girls be more a part of her life now than they had been when she was younger. it wasn’t like eliza didn’t have friends growing up, because she did: people to invite to birthdays and get invitations from, people to go see movies with, to have help with homework. she had all of that. but somehow, now, she had a couple of girls in her life that she cared for more deeply than any of those surface-level friends. mardra was one of them, surprisingly or not. “okay, serious question,” she said, cutting up a log of cookie dough and placing the slices onto a sheet of parchment paper, “how do we feel about eating raw cookie dough, miss spencer?”

"do you ever think,” heather hummed, head tilted as she looked up at the clouds that passed, “about the people who first fell in love?” she had been thinking about it the night before. “or like, about the person who thought up the word ‘love’, and what they’d think about the way we use it now?” some days, heather tried not to let her heart rule so much of her life. but most days, days like today, it seemed like that was the only way she could think properly, is if she was feeling just as much, if not more. “it’s possible that i’m thinking too hard about this, isn’t it?”

there wasn’t a day that went by where lindsey didn’t take a picture of something. no matter what it was, she had this terrible habit of finding beauty, of wanting to catch it, keep it and have it with her forever. more than half the photos on her phone were of inconsequential little things, small moments of beauty and happiness she found in the city, in people. “naomi,” she said, already taking her phone out, “whatever you do, don’t move. there’s a ladybug on your shoulder, and it matches your shirt, if i don’t get a picture of it i’ll never forgive myself.”

@wddingcrshers​ (closed) 

@wddingcrshers​ (closed)