nothing beautiful is true

   —and you don’t have one of those smartphones? Honestly.., I don’t know if asking me for directions is such a good idea. I might take you somewhere entirely different from where you want to be.

I haven't updated my phone in--It must be around three years now. I've not seen a reason to spend hundreds of dollars on a thing I barely use. 

( he sighs, it's irritating, mostly. perhaps he'll take her home and turn her into a masterpiece, drag her by the hair and bury her deep beneath the earth. he pushes the thought aside. )

☁ wildjewels

☁ tokesup

who am I to disagree? 

When a girl texts you and tells you to meet her at the park (the one just off Bernard road -- you know, the one with the swing set) in ten minutes, with no context and very little warning, you're obliged to hurry. He met with her, she gave him some sheet music. That was it. That was the entire reason. He almost got hit by a car on his way here, and she told him to hurry because if he didn't, she'd be late for class (note: she told this to him in person). College kids, how he loathes them -- always taking the good seats in cafes and wearing those stupid beanies.

Frustrated, he takes the first seat he can find, next to a young woman he doesn't offer a second glance to (which, even he'll admit, is rather rude) -- But this is America. She's probably used to it. The music book is rested in his lap and his eyes scan the pages.

Why do you, like. Ask.

Above all things, curiosity. 

( Caroline doesn’t usually pay attention to cutie alerts, but holy shit. cutie alert. )

( dork? he raises an eyebrow, before dismissing the comment. he's not -- offended, or anything. just a tad confused. )

Vous parlez français?

no matter, he shrugs lightly, glancing toward the sky. he has an odd relationship with it, it scares him in a way, and gives him something to strive for in another. he gets caught up in the view, taking much too long to reply -- thirty seconds, at the very least. )

Oui. Certains. 

( he might not notice if she delved so far into his mind to pull threads connected to secrets -- but his mind is, unbeknownst to him, blocked off in places. think of a small room (this is what he remembers) with a trap door, leading to a vast library (this is what he doesn't remember). but the trap door has a lock, and if you were to force it open, you and he would both be in pain.

June.

( figures it’s not worth giving surnames if he’s not fancying giving his either. )

Enchanté. 

Isaiah. 

( if she was looking for a last name, he rarely thinks to give it -- irrelevant at all times unless you're filling out a form for the real flower shop owners. )

( polite, idle conversation or no, the fact remains that this right here is june’s element; the cusp of twilight. perhaps that’s overly romantic - she doesn’t really care. everything about her existence could be construed as overly romantic, really, at a stretch; she doesn’t give it too much thought. )

No. You're here.