@wrrgod​

eve sat up, reaching into the foot well to pick her dress up, pulling it over her head to maintain some semblance of modesty. around leo, she hardly had any, but it was nice to be able to pretend occasionally. her hand lifted to touch lightly against the bruises forming on her skin, a small groan leaving her lips. ❝ i really said don’t fucking bite me, leo. jesus. ❞ eve shimmied her dress down the rest of her body and leaned back against the driver’s seat, staring out the back window. she couldn’t bring herself to look at leo. it was bad enough she had just been under (and above) him. she couldn’t even use alcohol as her excuse, unlike last time. she had been a little vulnerable and seeing leo had made it so much fucking worse. even after all these years, it still hurt as though he had cut her off only one day prior. she had walked straight to him, taken his hand and lead him out to her car. it was only when they were climbing inside that she asked him if he wanted to spend the night with her and, clearly, he had obliged. and fuck, she wished he had said no. she wished he had said no and climbed out of the car and left her to go home and drink a bottle of wine and eat a pint of ice cream. just let her drown her sorrows alone. but no, leo had said yes. eve had enjoyed herself far more than she had wished and now. well, now, all those feelings came back. the anxiety that settled deep in her stomach, the fear of growing attached to him once more. eve couldn’t lose him again. how the fuck had she even managed to survive the first time? alcohol and sex. and sure, she might abuse those to some extent now, but if she were to grow attached to leo and lose him again? that would surely be the end of her. her fingers toyed with the hem of her dress and she finally allowed herself to look at him. she had bitten into his skin pretty well, leaving a series of bruises to form along his chest and collarbones. she could see the start of one blossoming beneath the picture inked into his throat. a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. ❝ why do we keep doing this to ourselves, leo? ❞ the smile had fallen from her features and eve reached into her bag and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, pulling one out and placing it between her lips. it was rare that she smoked but she had no alcohol on her, so it would have to suffice to take the edge off. she held the packet out towards leo and fumbled for a lighter. ❝ fuck, ❞ she muttered, throwing her bag down onto the seat. ❝ who the fuck has cigarettes and no lighter? a fucking idiot, that’s who. ❞ the self deprecation was heavy and eve sat beside her bag, the cigarette hanging loosely between her lips. all she wanted was to smoke and try and forget how leo had made her feel when he touched her. how he set her skin on fire, burned everything he touched and had her craving more each time. she felt sick in her stomach. 

LAST TEXT SENT: “ fuck me yourself you coward ”

They say you always find your way home when you need to, and there is no real surprise that, that same desire has led her here. The story is always the same, the broken record of her heart break given a stage that she’s left to take care of. She owes them, after all. At first, it’s on bended knees, clearing off the dirt and debris from passing storms, and eventually, Maeson starts the familiar humming of a tune that she wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for his mother. A family heirloom, for somewhere she didn’t belong, but desperately wanted to. His mother’s favorite song, passed down to what should have been their daughter by desire or maybe just a more wayward want. This time, she doesn’t even huff a sigh as she goes, not allowing place for his memory to catch her off guard, and how wrong she’s about to be. As a matter of fact, she doesn’t even look up when he approaches, legs folding under one another as she comes to sit in front of the gravestone that is proudly labeled with the woman’s name. For once, she’s not begging to call off his ghost, asking to be protected from the waves of emotions that always try to drown her at the mere mention of his name. A deep breath is taken, finishing the song as throat clears. @wrrgod​

he was fuming. all he had been doing was trying to break up the stupid fight. he had no idea who had started it, which side had thrown the first punch, but that hardly mattered. oliver knew that he needed to end it before the cops came and broke it up. of course, that didn’t happen. in fact, because he had been so deep when they arrived, they had grabbed him to take him back to the station. like he told everyone, he didn’t resist when they dragged him to the station. perhaps nobody else would have been the same, but oliver knew it was better to go along with what they wanted him to do and he would likely be treated a little better. it was bad enough being in the cell alone, let alone when they threw leonardo martinez in there. as if the night could get any worse. oliver combed his fingers through his hair and leaned his head back against the cell wall. did he have the energy for this? not at all. was he going to do it? it seemed he didn’t have a choice. ❝ they really didn’t have anywhere else for you to go? ❞ by now, his annoyance was with the situation, he would have reacted the same regardless of who was thrown in with him. it just so happened that they threw leo in with him, and leo was the right person to have everyone pissed off at him all the time, just by being alive. though, oliver knew that some people probably felt that way about him, it was all about perspective. ❝ i bet you threw the first punch, huh? you love a good fight, don’t you, leo? ❞

oliver shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair. he took a seat in front of scarlett and sighed heavily. for some reason, spending time with scarlett really put oliver at ease. he could never truly pinpoint why that was, but being around her was fairly soothing. ❝ whoever said heavy is the head that wears the crown deserves a medal. they’re fucking right. ❞ oliver combed his fingers through his hair and leaned back, trying to soothe away the headache beginning behind his eyes. his fingers rubbed gently against his temple and he just took a moment to breathe. he didn’t need to worry right now. he could be himself with scarlett, though he was never too himself. ❝ what do you do when you want the noise to just.. stop for a minute? just clear your head for five minutes and then get back to reality? ❞

eve tucked her legs beneath her body, inspecting her nails. she had thrown a couple of good punches during the brawl at the fair and only chipped one nail. that she could see. if her luck over the past few years was anything to go by, she would discover more chipped nails over the coming days. but for now, they all looked pretty good. she looked up and stretched her arms over her head, groaning as her neck cracked. ❝ i know i shouldn’t have got involved in that fight, but it kinda felt good to hit someone. ❞ her knuckles were a little bruised and had bled a fair amount immediately after the brawl, but she was recovering nicely now. she thanked her lucky stars that she hadn’t been hit back or dancing would be a little difficult. it wasn’t that anybody was looking at her face in particular, but nobody really wanted a beaten girl dancing on stage or in their lap. ❝ do you think it makes me look tough? ❞ she pulled a face and grinned, a soft laugh escaping her mouth. she was plenty tough, but she was right, she certainly didn’t look it.

“i wasn’t expecting you yet.” he was very obviously lying through his teeth, but there was no real surprise there. temptation was a motherfucker, and he definitely encouraged her to walk right into it at every turn. this explained why shirt still hadn’t even been picked, let alone pulled on, and sweatpants slung low on hips, dangerously almost - as he leaned over the bed to pull the sheets in the right direction. “aren’t you usually fucking late or something? you know, if you were a gentleman, you’d look the other way instead of oogling me.” @wrrgod​