winter rose;

All the times she'd ran this conversation through her head, Sienna had tried to picture all the words he'd say. Never did she imagine that he would let her go easy, because the time they'd stolen together had convinced her just what type of person he was. It was exactly because of that reason, that she'd waited for as long as possible, suffering silently, mulling over the best way to break his heart and not die in the process. But there hadn't been one. And no matter how much time passed or how much she prepared in her mind, nothing could beat the reality. Now that it was there, she wanted nothing more but to crawl into a memory and stay there, wrapped in warmth and his security, not having to think of what to do when he was no longer by her side. But as Angel said her name, Sienna's attention went back to him, just like it always did. She'd been drawn to him from the first time their paths crossed and time had only intensified the bond. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she didn't had the heart to repeat - once again - what she'd said before. It had been hard enough to do it the first and second time, but it simply felt cruel to do it once again. His hopefulness and optimism were other reasons to love him all the while fearing the outcome of it all. "Please...", a shaky whisper and eyes squeezed tight as to keep the tears at bay. "I can't..." But it was getting too late. His words were getting through to her, anchoring deep into her mind, just in the right places where the fear had made a permanent residence. Taking a hold of his wrist, Sienna held it tightly and desperately, fingers still shaking despite the exertion. "I don't want to lose you either. You're the best thing that happened in all of my years of life and I don't have regrets for any of it, only for not doing more with you, but..." The nosebleeds. The family they had. The world crumbling even more with no promise of ever getting better. "Please. Let me do this for you. Let me go, Angel."

MUSE: gustave andersson, writer & ex-fighter pilot OPEN TO: f (age gaps okay but nothing too crazy) CONTEXT: dating / one-night stand and she happened to stay the night accidentally / married but on the brink of divorce

Nightmares weren't unfamiliar for Sofía but a constant companion that had made a permanent place for itself in the dark hours of the night. But she'd gotten used to handling them herself; when they were haunting the man sleeping besides her, the feeling was quite different. Waking with a start, she found her body sleeping on the far edge of the mattress - when had that became normal? - with her back turned to him. Immediately though, she rolled towards Gustave, still half-asleep but acting on instinct. "Hey, what happened?" A whisper in the night as her hand touched his chest. At first, it felt just like before. That was before her mind shook itself off from the last remnants of sleep. Then, her hand slipped away as she made an attempt to rise on her elbow. "You okay?"

"then what is the issue? i do not understand, borys." she murmured, brows furrowing. "why do you doubt yourself so?" isabella searched for some way to convince him.

His eyes moved to the dancing fires around them, the openness and honesty on her face making him feel more uneasy. She was asking him what was the issue and he didn't know how to be vulnerable and share a very simple truth - that he was growing more and more restless as the time was rolling away, the doubts creeping in as unforgiving as poisonous vines. Borys was starting to doubt not only himself but his own family, the scales finally slipping from his eyes and what he looked at was far from what he liked. Even now - especially now - he didn't know if he could be honest enough to share everything that ate at him - that he was doubting his own father, that he suspected the king was holding her family captive, dangling the possibility of a marriage in front of them with no real desire to actually proceed. And because he didn't know how to tell her, Borys chose not to. "When you look at me one day and realize that I'm not who you thought I was nor my family is, then what, Isabella? What would become of all of this?" It was the closest he could get to being honest without committing treason.

There's a quirk of her brow, as short-lived as it is at his question — Daring to talk to a royal like this could be dangerous for a man like him and yet here he is, flaunting the danger in her peripheral view. All it earns is a soft scoff of amusement, she doesn't dare to use her status to order him to state his business. "Is that so?" Femme questions as she takes another drink, eyes scanning over the jester before setting down her glass. "Well, if it is what you wish of me, I am happy to oblige my subjects." Catriona sits up in her place, hands placed so gracefully on her lap. "For starters, your routine can sometimes be slightly too provocative for the likes of my particular court." Eyes narrow, testing how truly honest she is able to be. "Shall I go on?"

The astonishment and amusement flickering across her features were the sweetest reaction to him. He loved not only to rile people up but to fluster them and so far, if he could do neither with the princess - scandalizing and making her wish she could throttle him would suffice. "See, I had a feeling that you are a good princess of the people." His tone was honest, not a hint of irony, because this, unlike everything else that slipped past his lips, was truthful and coming straight from the heart. But as she started listing what she didn't like about his work as a jester, the Cheshire-like smile was back in full force, followed by a low chuckle. "Maybe this is so, but I do remember vividly all of them having the laugh of their lives, despite how much conservative you might think they are." An eyebrow rose once more. "But do go on, I'm all ears."

"Some people can go back to being friends." The argument was weakened by the fact she couldn't name anyone off the top of her head, that had gone back to being friends. "You shouldn't need me for that." This time the words came out more passionate, because they were words that she could stand behind. "Whether or not I see something good in you, shouldn't matter. You have to see it for yourself, because that's the only way it really works."

"Not us and you know it." The temper he always had to work hard to quench was rising again and as much as this argument was testing him, Gabriel didn't want to be that guy. Not with her, not anymore. Not when it threatened to very well cost him everything he'd so foolishly thought for granted. "Well, Ash, it seems I can't. So we're in a bit of a pickle, aren't we?" Despite being together for so long, there were still details she didn't know about him. And that was entirely his fault. Naively, he'd thought that there was no need to stir the dark shadows of his childhood and bring them to the light, but when they were responsible for the way he'd still acted out, maybe it hadn't been a good idea to keep them hidden. A little too late now. "I love you. And I need you. Please... can we try one more time?"

"Lovely might be a bit far. You might want to keep expectations low, then you can only be pleasantly surprised." The words were mostly teasing, hoping it would make things between them feel perfectly normal. He wasn't a bad cook, maybe not an adventurous one, but he liked to think he knew his way around the kitchen. "I can spare some time for breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day, didn't you know? You can't skip that, especially if you have something important to do." Using one of his hands to gesture over at his closet. "I'm sure there's something in there you could use if you want to put something new on. Or if you'd prefer something closer to your size,I'm sure one of my sisters will have something if you want to check the spare rooms?"

"Then you're in luck because my expectations are usually low." The tone of her voice was humorous, even if there was a truthfulness at the core of the words. Not to mention, she took the silent offer of making this moment less awkward and led with it, breaking the sentence only long enough to slowly pull herself into an upward position and try to thread through her hair using her fingers. "I'll keep quiet and not share how often I end up skipping breakfast altogether, then. Somehow, I'm always running late and sacrifices have to be made." What Azalea didn't say was that the reason she was often late was because of the fitful, restless nights that resulted in her always sleeping in without meaning to. Not that night though. "That's... very sweet, thank you. I won't rummage amongst your sisters' stuff, but yours... now that's a different opportunity. Do you have anything to hide from me?" Teasingly, she bumped his shoulder with hers.

based on: marriage of convenience

"I was just wondering if you'd want a dinner to go with that wine or is the bottle enough?" Julian's voice was serious but his features were devoid of any harshness; quite the contrary, somehow, he was barely suppressing a smile. Ever since the wedding, the attorney couldn't say that he'd had many reasons to smile, but he didn't begrudge any of it on his new wife. What had happened was unnecessarily cruel and outdated, and Julian himself couldn't say that he was a big fan of it, but still had agreed to do it knowing the consequences full well. Welcoming a woman who could easily be his downfall into his home hadn't been on the cards for his near future, but now that it had come to it, the man was tired of living with a stranger, the air choked and heavy with animosity. There was no overlooking the way she straightened her spine when she heard him come home and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to be able to keep looking at her, while she had her guard down. "Lets go out, Aurora. Have dinner with me anywhere you'd like. Show me your favorite spot."

"then i suppose i'd have to start being much more careful around you," came his response with a quiet laugh and a shake of his head. the conversation was easy, but it made him feel worse. if talking to her felt strained, if he had to force it, then that weight on his chest whenever he wasn't around her might ease up a little. instead, every moment, every word exchanged, only served to remind him what he had chosen to walk away from. "that's not what i meant and you know it," he cast her a sideways glance, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. "you always look beautiful." would it pass for politeness or friendly flattery if someone happened to overhear? did it even matter? there was nothing going on between them now, luca had made sure of that. "what, this old thing?" his eyes dropped down briefly before lifting and finding her gaze again. "just something i pulled out the back of the closet." he shrugged.

She hadn't been fishing for a compliment but it hurt nonetheless, because Catherine knew his answer was truthful. If before she had doubted that the feelings she'd developed were only one sided, after that fateful night and the text messages, the woman was completely sure of the truth. And she could do nothing more to change it. It had to come from him, if it ever came, because as the weeks were rolling away Cath had stopped holding her breath. It still hurt whenever she thought of him, but the ache was eventually giving way to a familiar dull hurt, and that was the worst. It meant that despite wanting the opposite, somehow, her heart was healing and coming to terms with the reality that Luca was never going to give them a chance. "It still looks good. Remember that joined bachelor and bachelorette party we were invited all that time ago?" When she was still dating his friend. "You wore something similar at the beginning of the night." And until now, she hadn't even thought of that memory. How quickly it surfaced was what scared her.

i can't not worry about you. it draws his gaze, eyes sliding sidelong to find her face. he knew some things about bonding on the job, familiar with the slow shift from strictly professional to vaguely friendly. usually angel wasn't scared of making a connection, usually he wouldn't consider it a problem, no big distraction from his work. usually. his jaw works back and forth, head tilts. "that's you, uh... projecting," he tells her, humor ghosting his features. "m'not bored. that's all you." but he figures, to her, boredom is ideal to the alternative. he thinks they can figure out a happy medium. a soft exhale through his noise passes as a doubtful laugh. "mm. yeah, i never somebody could burn spaghetti. that's... yeah, that's almost impressive." he rolls his shoulders, nods distantly. "i can handle it. let's go."

Eyebrows drawn, Johanna felt a sliver of surprise rise under her skin. His bluntness wasn't hurtful but the feeling was surprising all the same, the thought of him classifying her as bored bothering her in a strange, unexplainable way. Bored was a word no one would've ever thought of using when describing her. At least, not before. Now, even in her most pitiful and detached moments, the redhead thought of herself as skittish and rueful, but not exactly reaching the full extend of boredom. Maybe it didn't look like it from afar. The thought saddened her. "Turns out you do like the quiet of this place. It got under your skin, didn't it?" Hugging herself more into his coat, Jo tried to suppress a low chuckle at Angel's next words but all she managed to do was hide it into the warmth of it as she soundlessly joined him, one hand wrapping around his arm so he could guide her safely in the darkness. "I'm fairly certain I can learn in time! You just have to be patient with me and... well, don't mind if I keep burning stuff while I do."

The cliche all writers tried to avoid like the plague was that a person was holding their breath without realizing and in one heady moment Thomas was reduced to simply this. Only she could turn him into this type of man, his heart always bared and bleeding, ready to give and receive whatever it was that she needed. Some might call it toxic or enabling or foolish, but to him it was simply the risk of being in love alive. And when her words landed like a gentle whip, only then did he exhale and close his eyes. The request was so simply that he felt tempted to say that he would do it again and again for her, until she needed him, but years had taught him to smother his words when it came to Maeve. What he used to restrain before, now it had to fight to get out, because the fear of pushing her away was bigger than any other. "I'll stay." The simple words were firm, said only after a moment of silence. When he'd decided to come that night, there was nothing guaranteed, nothing promised, but this felt like the biggest peace offer he could've hoped for. "And of course I'll give you a ride. Not only tomorrow too, but whenever you need. I hope you know that." The fact that she wasn't pulling away didn't go unnoticed and the man feared of doing the wrong thing that would tilt everything to the side. With a careful smile, his thumb caressed her cheek once more before slowly retreating. Hand slid down and rested on her shoulder for a second more before falling even lower, down her arm and over her back. She finally felt real to him, the years without her nothing but a bitter memory that he could finally try to forget. The changes on her face, in her eyes, were what convinced him to slowly pull away, not crowd or control her, but give her the space to make her own decisions. Showing her that despite everything, he still trusted her more than he trusted anyone else. "Have you eaten? I can make us something before going to sleep."

Her whole body had braced for impact, the way one could scramble to do it in a second before a car crash. Neck tense, heart beating out of sync, with choking fear looming over her shoulders. Knowing the logic behind all of those reactions did nothing to ease the burden and it was the precise reason why even therapists needed someone to talk to, when it became impossible to shoulder all of it alone. But as Maurice's words washed over her, Val couldn't fathom the relief flooding her. She hadn't expected to be caught off guard the way it'd had happened, and once the control was out of her hands she felt flimsy at trying to regain some of it back, yet him keeping a distance was what stood out to her. When dark eyes turned towards where he stood, they mapped the way his body was positioned, the singular tap of his fingers against his thigh, and she wanted to do nothing more but tell him that he worried without reason, that he kept away without reason and everything was more than okay with her. The lies stood lodged in her throat and no amount of swallowing could wash them away or force them out. But one thing stood out, unmistakable, more real than anything else in that moment. "I always feel safe when I'm with you. Don't think otherwise." Chancing a look towards his face, Valerie tilted her head to the side and offered a soft smile. "And you don't need to stay all the way over there. Now that the cat is out of the bag, we can just acknowledge it had happened and move on to our date, right?" The dark haired woman realized her wish was impossible to accomplish, the emotions in his eyes too intense to simply be swept away by her saying so. Gritting her teeth, Val looked down where her hands lay in her lap. "It was my fault. I pushed instead of listening more and this is what came of it. It's my fault more than it was his and I know that you won't like hearing that." The silence that came after that was hollow, just a moment before the next storm. "But you should feel everything you need to. And I'm ready to listen and explain. This is what we promised each other, right?" When Val looked up at him again, her eyes were hopeful and softened, less haunted and glazed than a moment ago. "And now I promise you this - I am okay. You don't have to add to your list of worries because despite what today might indicate, I'm safe. Nothing truly bad is going to happen to me. This is... just a step in a very difficult and challenging process."

The grin on his face was wolfish and Anna wasn't surprised one bit. It took a certain kind of person to agree to do what he had and while it went without saying that she was desperate, when it came down to categorizing him, the emotions were conflicting. Did he do it because he simply did not mind stirring shit up, no matter the consequences? The heat of his touch, confident at her lower back, was speaking all that she was going to get in that moment but the blonde still wondered if she'd ever get the chance to actually ask him what she truly wanted to know. But this wasn't the moment and there were too many eyes on them to try anything else but playing the game. "I'm playing my role," the ice skater felt obliged to say, even if it made her sound defensive. "It's what I do so good on the ice, remember?" It was good that he couldn't look at her eyes in that instant, but she could feel his chuckle reverberating throughout her too, the dark pleasure of it distracting her enough that when Luca's answer actually came it was a surprising blow. Some part of her had still not expected that this would be the thing to actually work. Hearing about his reaction made her equally glad and unhappy, the emotions in such contrast with one another that she had to hold tighter to him in order to keep the world from tilting dangerously to the side. "Wanna make him want to murder you next?", her lips were pulled into a numb smirk but Luca was already leaning and all Annabelle could feel was the closeness of his body, the suggestive nearness of his mouth hovering just there, enough so she wouldn't doubt his intention but also know that the final lean in could end up being hers. Scratch the deal of a fake relationship, in that moment, this was what felt the most reckless to her - not minding that an almost complete stranger could make her feel things no one else had before. "Fine," the blonde blurted a second before pressing her lips to his, hands sliding to where his were anchored on her body. With tingling lips, she smiled into the kiss before taking a hold of his wrists, fingers sliding over his just when her body started to move with the rhythm. "Come. Dance with me."

"Ah, but didn't you hear?" The mischevious glint in his eye became more prominent as he leaned forward, elbows resting against the table now, as if she was some co-conspirator of his. "Artists are notorious for thriving off of validation. Especially from beautiful women." His smile widened, head tilting ever so slightly as he regarded her. Javier wasn't above using his charm -- and really, whatever he could, sometimes -- to get a woman's attention. Especially if the woman in question didn't seem to be as affected by him as the others. He had to admit, it was refreshing, and maybe just bruised his ego a little bit. Javier lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug in response to her question, the smile not quite slipping off his face. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe VIP passes for you and your friends.. A ride in our private plane. A personal tour guide at our next destination--" their next stop was going to be in his hometown, after all. "And my amazing company." He lifted his glass of scotch to his lips. "The last three things are just for you, though."

"Okay, okay, consider this me doing my civic duty of helping you remain humble, then." The glint in her eyes was humorous, the tilt of her head just enough so he'd know that her attention was entirely his despite appearing uninterested in his charms. Despite knowing that he wouldn't mind talking to her if she was a diehard fan, there was something more interesting when Marina didn't feel like hanging off of every word that left his mouth. And he knew how to pile them one on top of the other, she was getting certain of that. Some men had a certain feeling around them that came with the life they lived and she couldn't begrudge him for it. On the contrary, it was quite interesting because when would be the next time when she'd get to talk to a rockstar? "Oh wow, you had that one ready to go so easily!" Throwing her head back, the brunette let out an amused laugh before shaking her head in disbelief. "This is all very tempting but I feel obliged to share that I don't plan on turning into one of your groupies." Pushing the glass in front of her to the side, it was her turn to lean closer. "But my friends will disown me if I don't take advantage of the VIP passes, at least, so... I guess its our lucky day." And then, just because, she asked, "Why don't you tell me more about your next destination?"

The tone of his voice almost made her wince, but she kept as composed outwardly as she could. She didn't like the idea of him losing somebody he could turn to, but she thought it was healthiest for them in the long term. "We were friends first." The words not as confident as she'd like them to be. "Why wouldn't we be able to go back to it? Everyone could use more friends in their lives."

"Yeah, well... haven't you heard you can't go back to being friends with someone you know intimately?" His words weren't aimed at making her uncomfortable, but the bluntness of it all might serve as a good reason to make her realize this was it and there was no turning back. Not to mention, he was feeling rather desperate even thinking about losing her. "I don't need many friends, Ashley. I just need you to keep seeing something good in me, so I can believe in it as well. Is that so selfish of me to ask?"

Shaking his head at her words, he shifted slightly to sit straighter. "You don't need to apologise. I'm fairly certain sleep isn't a crime." Reaching one hand up to comb it through his hair, and keep his mind occupied so he didn't say something ridiculous. "Do you want breakfast?" He finally decided on, eyes glancing over at his bedroom door. "I'm no Michelin chef, but I think I can handle making some eggs. Maybe even an omlette if you're feeling like something less basic." As he spoke, he was suddenly struck by how much he didn't want her to leave. At least not so soon.

"No, I know, but..." ... but wasn't sleeping entangled with your friend considered some reason to apologize for? She hadn't meant to seek his comfort, but her subconscious had had other ideas, to her utmost mortification and surprise. The way this feeling was strangely good to her was buried somewhere beneath the shame and awkwardness that came first and the brunette didn't want to dwell too much on it, lest her cheeks risked to never stop being red. "Breakfast? That sounds..." Azalea couldn't remember if there had been a moment in time when anyone had offered to make her breakfast, and the realization made her shuffle, eyes unable to meet his. "Lovely. If I'm not too imposing, that is. Do you have anything important you need to do?"