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badrcputaticn‌:

“ oh, can’t wait to see where this goes. “ the flipside, AS FAR AS ARCHIE LIKED TO THINK, she would live forever. she didn’t know where she saw herself in thirty or so years. she knew at one point her father thought he would live forever. and then he got sent to the negative zone. but she was young and free and nothing could touch her, let alone hurt her. the closest she got to morality was cleaning up ben’s wounds, straddling her bathtub at three am while she cleaned the blood from his knuckles. ARCHIE FELT BEYOND LIFE, sometimes. she walked into a burning building and felt nothing. it does something to a person. cindy loves to tell her so whenever archie comes by the house. to archie it felt like a scolding, but deep down she knew that cindy was just scared for her oldest daughter. no matter how hard archie has scorned her, cindy never stops going above and beyond for her. “ i want, like, body shots off my corpse, for sure. shots of my ashes. AND I WANT TO BE PRESENT. like, my body, or whatever. in, like, a sequin gown with ripped fishnets. but you’re right. this party is deserving of her. “

in some soft way, makena thought she’d moved passed her youthful belief of her own immortality around the time that ZARA had been born. it was in that moment ( and not while pregnant, when zara was just an it and not a whole person ) that her life had become undeniably tied to another being, and she had become caregiver. she liked to think her DAUGHTER would live forever, like most parents do. that she would outlast her, at the very least - and she was happy that the very real possibility was out there that she would. the alternative was worse. “disgustang,” she made a face, but she’s mostly jokey - GENUINELY wigged at the thought of downing a shot mixed with someone’s ashes, but taking most things in her stride in her current mood, “do you wanna be propped up norma bates style, by chance? cause that’s the exact level of ‘too much’ i’m striving for, here, and i might SWIPE that idea. statistically speaking, i’m probably gonna kick it before you, so...”

#⌜ ･ﾟ ⸰ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / thurman. #arachne moon storm #i might rewrite this im not satisifed

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thevalorous‌:

like many of the party goers, august had been quick to ditch as much of his funeral attire as he could. shoving his tie into the pocket of his jacket, he made a beeline towards one of the kegs. the sooner he had a beer in his hand, the better. he had never been particularly close to henry, but as a fellow x-kid, her death hit close to home. and he was hoping her unofficial memorial would distract him from the thought of death. he had half the mind to just excuse himself from the conversation with makena, but he had to admit he was curious as to what she had to say. so instead he took a drink as he fixed his attention on his friend, listening intently to what she had to say. “yeah, i know what you mean, the last thing i want is some stuffy old funeral,” he replied with a laugh. of course as a prince and one day king, august would have a traditional burial but he hoped his friends would know to throw a more exciting after party. “hopefully you’ll live long enough to teach her yourself,” he laughed, “then at your funeral everyone can just sit around getting high.”

“‘gust, you don’t know me nearly as well as you might think you do.” she exhaled some smoke and dropped the stub of her cigarette into another persons RED CUP, leaning forward a little in her chair to address him better. “given my worst habits, i think it’s pretty safe to guess i’m not making it past thirty five ; and however BAD a mom i can be, sometimes - i’m not gonna teach my then eleven year old how to be a POTHEAD. she can learn it at my funeral or... i don’t know- study it on youtube like i did.” 

#⌜ ･ﾟ ⸰ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / thurman. #august munroe

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mvrtemisms‌:

Orpheus furrowed their brow and looked up at Lottie, concerned. “Are you okay?” They asked. There had been similar reactions in the past but mostly when they had used bones of another variety for what they needed to do. And yet they never quite got used to the reactions people had, to the perplexion and disgust about something they had never questioned a day in their life. “They’re harmless I promise. Wouldn’t even think to harm a hair on your head.” They offered a large smile. As they spoke the cat left their arms, instead stepping up onto their shoulders. “What?” As they asked the question they raised an eyebrow. “No. Of course not. I wouldn’t hurt a living thing. Not only that be wrong but it would be so messy. How gross.”

“they’re dead.” that did not LEND itself to why she was so freaked out, but lottie sure felt it explained... something. she had starred in a low budget and snapchat based zombie show, once - she knew the deal with creatures that had passed on and come back. they came back wrong. they started an apocalypse. they ate brains. thoughts like that were stressing her out. sure, she could have thought instead about the likes of zero from the nightmare before christmas, or the little dog from frankenweenie ; but that would have been too EASY, and way too natural a progression for the current situation. “ok. cool! cool. you didn’t do this. so it just...- it died, and you-... did this? is it happy?”

#lotties tags tbd. #orpheus roth

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chacswins‌:

“Nobody’s presence is of any help, not in the way you’re probably thinking. They’re not supposed to be, we’re here for support.” It is why he hated being here, but he would have felt worse for staying home. Death and the ceremonies around them are what he knows best, whether or not he wanted to. He stopped wondering if that pain transferred to his face, if people could so easily read him when he made such an effort to be cold as stone. He should have been expecting someone to call him out on it, but he didn’t think it would come from someone he just met at a memorial. “Well…” It took him a moment to catch himself, her words managed to throw him. “Aren’t you perceptive?”

“i cannot provide much of that, either,” it seemed so simple, to just... turn up. be present. stand there as family grieved and act the pillar of STRENGTH. but it wasn’t. a lifetime of a marked absence of empathy made it difficult for victoria to handle a room of emotionally wrought people - and she preferred the likes of the bonfire. it was easier to disappear in a crowd such as this, and easier, again, to find company she felt she deserved. “i have had to be,” she’s conscious of the time it has taken him to form a response, and flashes him a somewhat warm half smile, “but your expression was plain to read. don’t worry. i am sure nobody else has noticed.”

#⌜ ･ﾟ × ･ * ― convos ⌟ / creed. #raynor lokison

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mvrtemisms‌:

“Thank you!” Orpheus beamed. Controlling and shaping bone was something they prided themself on even if the ability came from a mutation in their genetic code. It was still a skill nonetheless and the control it took for them to craft something so intricate. “I did! It wasn’t that hard given my mutation but! Thank you!”

“your mutation is a part of you. it’s a talent to be able to use that to make something wonderful,” she smiles hugely - a SIDE effect of orpheus’ light. she gives the pen a final look of appreciation, and held it back out to them ; treating it with reverence, though she’s quickly being overcome with curiosity, “do you make anything else?” 

#⌜ ･ﾟ × ･ * ― convos ⌟ / creed. #orpheus roth

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badrcputaticn‌:

“ i’m sure that it’s statistically impossible for at least one to not have at the very least, a brain, but i’ll only believe it when i see it. “ though she did not say it, loki did trust emma’s opinion. she greatly admired her. when loki thought ‘ POWERFUL WOMAN, ‘ she saw emma frost’s face. “ merely suggested that the final exam for our combat course should be a fight to the death. it’s simply common sense. “

“unfortunately, you might be waiting a while,” she knew her own strengths. she believed in loki’s, too ( having a FINE appreciation for the woman that stood before her, and her methods ). the other members of faculty who were x-men adjacent sometimes WERE, but emma had never been good at verbalizing such thoughts. criticism came far easier to her than praise. “interesting. you know, we had a handful of similar examinations at xaviers ; though they were... unintentional. the danger room COULD be temperamental,” the soft chuckle that accompanied her words made it difficult to tell if she was joking...- and if she wasn’t, what the outcome had been, “you’d probably do better there than at this school. the x-men thoroughly believe that a little LIFE or death builds character...-” she paused, her final words closer to a private musing, “i suppose too much of the latter explains jean grey.”

#⌜ ･ﾟ ♕ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / frost. #loki

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badrcputaticn‌:

“ you’re too smart for that, huh ? “ doesn’t know why her tone turns bitter, but it still seeps into her voice. MAYBE SKYLAR IS ENVIOUS OF MORGAN. they both started out in the same place, in one way or another. children of powerful women and intelligent men. would they be much different, if skylar hadn’t had one fateful day ? she knows, though, morgan is only trying to be nice. skylar is just being overly sensitive, making something out of nothing. “ yeah, you’d better not. snitches get stitches, babe, “ skylar tells them with a half-hearted bark of laughter. “ maybe you should. ASSAULT AND BATTERY OF A TRASH CAN. “

“you said it, not me,” they DO crack a tiny smile, then ; though it for sure is not at skylar’s expense. they can’t bring themselves to be mad about sky’s tone, given everything that she’s going through - they suppose that’s something that she wouldn’t LOVE either, but it is the kind of ‘get out of jail free’ card that one couldn’t afford to pass over. “pretty gnarly crime. i’d probably be helping protect other innocent garbage cans from the same fate,” they ignore the snitches comment ; they sure think that sky is SERIOUS, but they don’t think that she’s a danger to them. "but then again, maybe they all deserve it. half of them look shifty.” 

#⌜ ･ﾟ ♥ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / stark. #skylar reyes mccoy

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bliindinglights‌:

astrid did not have a little clicker for her car. why ? because she lost it at a bar in the midst of a very competitive karaoke contest. it was never seen again, so she had to use her spare key to unlock her vehicle. it was unfortunate, if you asked her. definition of a first world problem. to add insult to injury, poet was an onlooker as her key miraculously snapped ( she just was using too much force ) in half in the lock… the KEY part of the key being… gone. “i-,” she doesn’t have words ( a rarity ) as she blinks at the broken instrument in her hand. “that doesn’t … help. you have any idea how to break into a car, then ? you think there’s a wikihow for it ?”  

it was pretty funny. poet imagined that astrid would see that eventually, even if it was obvious from the slack jawed look upon her face that she was not quite there yet. and probably won’t be for a little while, either. “i know a couple surefire ways, yeah,” see - poet tended to go straight to action, rather than sit around and brainstorm. they tended to do the exact FIRST thing that came to mind, over ( for example ), spending time on WIKIHOW. that thought earned a CHUCKLE at the very least as they bent their knees and grabbed a rock, tossing it towards the window as they straightened back up, mere moments passing both of them by. the glass shattered. of course it did ( absolutely would have even if all they had done was tap the window, thanks to one destructive mutation ). the alarm sounded. they grinned. they even did a little version of a will smith-esque motion towards their handiwork. “tada.”

#⌜ ･ﾟ ⚜️ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / lebeau. #astrid vidarsdottir #im so srry astrid #im so sorrry.

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covldbeheroes‌:

     just when margot thought she could go a day without crying, her parents decided to have a memorial for henry, to let everyone properly mourn. all of it was strange. margot hated seeing these people, all crying, pretending they knew henry and making it their own tragedy. margot tried to shrug this off, you always heard of it happening when someone was killed died, but now amount of facts could comfort margot. 

    hearing of the bonfire, there was no doubt in her mind that she was going to go. margot didn’t want to sit at home with her parents just talking about henry and being sad. she had done that since henry’s death, it didn’t help, but perhaps partying would. after being at the party for about an hour, margot decided to get some air and wandered off. in her mind she knew it wasn’t the best idea, but she didn’t care. still, statistics about missing person cases where someone just walked away from a group never to be seen again were floating through her mind as she walked. she was just about to turn back when she hear someone walking near her and then a familiar voice. “tessie? is that you? it’s me- margot.”

“margot?” their eyes were WILD. they searched the pool of black that was all around them, their iphone swinging backwards and forwards as they took a few steps into it - only having to go a tiny bit farther before they found their sister, gazes meeting. they were so... so relieved, that this was who they were FINDING. their parents were doing their best, but it was hard to hold yourself together, for the sake of your OTHER children. it led to stonyness from them both, a deliberate chill that they knew would thaw soon, but dreaded the day it did. at least margot was upfront with her emotions, and at least tessie did not need to hide her own. she never HAD. “i looked for you and sky everywhere-” 

#⌜ ･ﾟ ♡ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / reyes mccoy. #margot reyes mccoy

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badrcputaticn‌: 

sky was walking to go to the bathroom when she recognized tessie’s heartbeat, just a little bits away. she had been drinking heavily, but her body was metabolizing it too fast for her to really feel anything besides just a bit spacey. she was still awfully cold in the february weather, only wearing a hoodie she pawned off of danny on top of her memorial clothes and her shoes were left by the fire.

“ whoa, tessie, “ skylar let out a breathe. “ what’re you gonna do with that ? call me ? you’re giving the x-men a bad name. “ sky hadn’t seen them since this morning, and, honestly, she’d been rushing out of the house. SKYLAR DIDN’T WANT TO TALK TO ANYONE, much less someone who would say something insightful and kind, because then she might do something terrible, like cry. “ why’re you out here alone ? “ it’s dangerous out here, she almost adds.

they jump at her voice, and they aren’t ashamed that response, per se. they’re not MADE for these things the way that they know their siblings are - they can’t take these little scares ( a whispered ‘boo’, a creak upon the stair ) with marked bravery. their heart skipped a beat or two and their breathing hitched. it had taken them a long time to accept that about themselves, when everybody ELSE seemed made of stronger mettle.

“sky.” her name always feels like a hello and a goodbye. there is RELIEF flooding their expression, but it doesn’t erase that fact. “i don’t have anything else on me,” except their innate powers. it’s funny ; only NOW do they remember that with a simple flex of their mind they could have protected themselves far better than they ever could have with their phone. their thoughts were just too scattered to recall. “i- i slipped out when mum and dad were doing rounds,” that wasn’t an answer to a question asked, but it was the sort of information only a LITTLE sibling who felt caught in some way could provide, “i wanted to find the bonfire. that’s where you snuck off to, right?”

#⌜ ･ﾟ ♡ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / reyes mccoy. #skylar reyes mccoy

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lvsbianpryde‌:

“Good. That;s good too. But it would also be really cool if you didn’t mention this to my moms.” Dinah said. “I mean, like, they talk to me like people do. But that is, you know, one of my powers so I don’t know if it’s, like, just a me thing or not.”

“i’m not a snitch.” it seems their thoughts are always on their older sister, now - even when they were trying with all their might to force them away. tessie remembered the very first time they’d been told with a sneer that ‘snitches get stitches’. they remembered the second, third, fourth times just as well ; remaining grief fueling the resurface of those perfect memories. they’re still smiling. it’s their EYES that seem to sadden more than ever. “is it like...-” this was going to sound stupid. their NAIVE innocence would have to carry what nothing else could, “the bee movie?”

#⌜ ･ﾟ ♡ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / reyes mccoy. #dinah moonstar rasputina pryde

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chacswins‌:

“Please, if you’ve ever loved me.” Artemis feigned dramatics, putting a hand on her heart and one on her forehead. “You can never be too prepared, Adrian. Memorials bring out the over-dramatic in me, I know I’ll be around for a long time. Who else is going to look after you and Theora?”

“you know i do, but i don’t think it’ll be up to me,” for multiple reasons. not just because diana and steve would take the reins, on that one - but ALSO because, gods willing, adrian wasn’t going to be around to deal with that particular heartbreak. “you’ll take care of each other. that’s the TREVOR way.” 

#⌜ ･ﾟ ★ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / trevor. #artemis trevor

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notforgottcn‌:

“yeah i know,” she responds all too quickly because that’s what they’ve always done isn’t it? been there for each other. addy isn’t sure just where she would have been without him now, having spent so many years stuck together. just like she is completely certain that there was no one else she would have chosen to be with in that moment. after all, just who else was she so comfortable in near silence with. for a person who nearly didn’t shut up that was saying quite a lot.

addy isn’t sure what’s worse: adrian quite clearly stealing her act with the way he reacts to her or the way that she can’t help but laugh at him. a sound that’s not quite a giggle tumbling from her lips before she can even really think about it, rolling her eyes for good measure. she doesn’t say anything as he pulls out a cigarette, a conversation that’s almost worn out between them now. really, it’s almost how odd just how normal this seemed to be for them, despite the unusual setting.

she ignores the almost lurching feeling in her gut when he mentions going home, she doesn’t want to be alone again but more than that: she’s not ready to say goodbye to adrian just yet. still, she didn’t really want to go back inside either. it’d be easy enough to slip away now. “ever the gentleman,” she teases gently, a ghost of a smile remaining on her features. “that’d be nice,” it lets her hang on a little longer, as she’s sure he knows. “now i’m out i really don’t want to set foot back in there again,” she stops herself before making a comment about how current company was much more enticing.

“i had to become one at some point.” his eyes twinkle. his thoughts - as they often were - were on his father, the kind of man adrian hoped he had become in spite of KNOWING that at one point in time, he had been far from. his teen years had been dark. he hadn’t done much to be proud of, and if he spent too much time thinking back to the worst of it, he’d drive himself insane thinking about all the things he SHOULD have, would have, could have done different. “just happy it’s happened now.”

conscious that adella doesn’t usually let him off the hook with the habit, he takes even puffs in hopes of whittling it down quick, tapping the ash off into the empty space at his side. it’s this or something worse - he’d traded ONE habit for another, and he knows it’s too much to ask she be happy it’s not something serious, but it would’ve sure been nice. “the whole thing is...- a lot. no one would blame you,” or him, for that matter. “she was so young. like we were. a whole fucking...- life, and it’s just- gone, now. something about that stings.”

another inhale, and he drops the cigarette underfoot, stomping it out ( without much thought for the environment and how cigarette stubs make up over HALF of the litter in the world, i, the narrator, might add ). he sticks out his elbow, his arm becoming a stuck out triangle she might loop with, and reforms his SOLEMN expression into something a little lighter. “shall we, ma’am?”

#⌜ ･ﾟ ★ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / trevor. #adella robbins

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chacswins‌:

“If any member of my family throws a memorial for me, especially in a gazebo, someone needs to slap sense in to them.” Artemis thought out loud, not particularly caring who heard her statement. “I barely even want a funeral.”

“i’ll keep that in mind.” though he imagined he’d be hard pressed to convince their PARENTS otherwise. adrian was starting to think that most of these things weren’t really for the people they said they were for, to start with - that they were who was LEFT behind. “’don’t think you’ve got to worry ‘bout that for a while though, art.” 

#⌜ ･ﾟ ★ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / trevor. #artemis trevor #me bANGING POTS N PANS I LOV THE TREVORS N THE TREVORS ONLY

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notforgottcn‌:

“you better,” she spoke not really realising what was going through the other’s head, the way she might have had if she wasn’t so wrapped up in her own head. she’s half playful, half serious trying to not actually realise what she was saying. adrian dying was a literal world ending thought so of course she didn’t want to go there.

death in general was something she really tried not to think about, given that it had taken too much from her already. there was her parents, her twin, two of her birth brothers, and even bruce’s parents (something that had started her father’s whole bat campaign). addy couldn’t lose anyone else, it was as simple as that. regardless of the fact that things between them hadn’t always been easy, they had enough baggage between them that there was no way they were going to get closure on all of it. it didn’t really matter anyway, not really. there were so few people in her life that she really cared about, sure she had andrea and her family but they weren’t the same. she wasn’t about to loose him. should she have told him such? possibly, but she always presumed that somehow he’d just know anyway. 

she’s more than grateful for the way the other gets her out of the gazebo. having to mentally stop herself from leaning into his arm around her. “yeah i just…” she took a second to take a breath, letting herself actually feel her emotions rather than judging herself too harshly. comments about the fact she missed her family died in her throat and instead she fumbled to find something to say. “didn’t realise how late it had gotten,” it’s a nice distraction to just not have to think about the memorial for a few moments, but then addy was always the type to stare at the stars when she could. “thanks…” she speaks knocking his shoulder with her own “for having my back in there,” she knows that really she doesn’t need to thank him, knows that she would have done the same for in a heartbeat, but it felt right to acknowledge it at least in a way that she could.

“it is kind of late.” it’s just a murmur. the quietest agreement. his eyes lift up towards the sky and he takes in the stars, the full moon that was central to them all - it was late, but he had a feeling most of the people inside were going to drag it out a lot LONGER. not out of cruelty, but a desire to stay together. who among them all wanted to go home and be alone with their thoughts on a night like THIS? adrian knew he didn’t.

her little shoulder nudge isn’t enough to knock him by much, but his gaze drops back down to addy’s and he sways backwards, a bit. a little dramatic, but he’s still hoping to make her smile. “no need to thank me, addy,” he even gives a tiny shake of his head, to really push home the fact that...- being there for her was not a CHORE. it wasn’t a hardship. and it never would be. “you’d have done the same.”

digging in his pockets is automatic. subconscious, even. he pulls a box of cigarettes out, and he isn’t even taking note of the motions - having one lit and ready to take a pull of in seconds. it grounds him a little, makes him feel... more there, and more COMFORTABLE. he hadn’t realized how much he’d been itching for one. “i might head home, after this,” he exhales blue tinged smoke through his nose, mostly musing. “if you don’t want to stay, i can walk you back to yours. if you want.” 

#⌜ ･ﾟ ★ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / trevor. #adella robbins

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notforgottcn‌:

in truth it feels stupid, and more than a little selfish to be being so dramatic. this was a situation that was so clearly about her, at yet she suppose that it can’t help but hit a little too close to home. maybe she’s in denial about her feelings and that’s why she thinks lying to adrian is her best move. it isn’t, after all she had forgotten just how easily he saw through her when he needed to. she nods as he speaks, seeing no point in lying to him.

addy wasn’t especially good at letting other people take care of her, not because she actively tries not to be, she’s just not good admitting when she needs it. her gaze softens as she looks at the other and her posture relaxes slightly. “i guess this means you’re just now allowed to die, because funerals are not my thing,” it’s a dumb joke. a dumb way to remind him that she’s grateful to have him looking out for her, but at the same time it’s so typically them that she can’t help but say it.

she hadn’t even asked him if he was okay, she realised. “you seem to be doing fine to me,” her hand moving to squeeze his arm to try and bring him some comfort more than anything. even after all this time it was just what came naturally to them. if the circumstances were lighter she would have very likely made a dramtic comment about what the people around them would think, instead she simply nods. “no one’s going to miss us for a couple of minutes,”

he didn’t know a lot, anymore. that was the price of all that had happened. but he knew ADDY, perhaps better than she thought that he would after so much time - perhaps better than he even deserved to, by now. he didn’t know if it was seeing through her or whether it was understanding who she was, at her core.

“i’ll do my best,” sore subject. his smile was kindly, but there was a unique sort of pain hidden behind those eyes - the kind of a MAN aware of his mortality more than he was aware of anything else. his parents were immortal. his sisters would far longer than the average life expectancy of anyone ordinary. and he...- he was only human. when he was younger, when he had been a bratty upstart with a chip on his shoulder, he had thought that he would live forever. now, he could see the differences between he and theora clear as day ; and the feeling that caused to bloom in his chest left him feeling COLD.

so he kept smiling. he did it WELL, just like pretending he was as fine as she figured he was doing. and when she put her hand on his arm, he allowed it rest there for a moment before he turned to lead the way out ; lifting an arm and allowing it hover around her shoulders, the sleeve of his jacket making more contact with her than he did. and when they broke free of the gazebo ( gods, he hadn’t realized how CLAUSTROPHOBIC it had felt inside until the nighttime breeze was ruffling his hair and he was able to take a deep breath of fresh air ), he turned to her again. “you, uh...-” he wanted to tell her that she looked lovely. that she always did, but especially today. he wanted to try and bring a smile to HER face, because she looked so stressed, and it was all he could think to do. and yet, it wasn’t the time. he rethought. “feel any better, out here?”

#⌜ ･ﾟ ★ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / trevor. #adella robbins

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notforgottcn‌:

in many ways, often more than she would have liked to admit, adella was very much batman’s daughter. they had the same drive, the same seriousness and oddly they loved the same way too (gave everything even if they got nothing in return) even though addy had made great effort to attempt to deal with her ghosts in a healthier manner then her birth father. it had been that same drive to do good that had pushed her towards the police force years after she had given up the cape and cowl of batgirl. it was simply an itch that she could never quite scratch. 

it’s important for her to show her face, or at least she feels like it is, given that she’s on the police force. she’s a public figure and though addy can’t help but doubt that her attendance would really be noticed, it feels important anyway to show up and be there. her only personal emotions towards death and funerals pushed to one side as this frankly wasn’t about her. somehow she ends up in the corner of the room arms crossed awkwardly about her chest, 

something about her eases with his appearance at her side, like settling back into an all too familiar rhythm, even if she doesn’t really notice consciously. in the midst of a chaotic and uncomfortable he’s just as safe and familiar as he always was. “i’m fine,” she answers too quickly, cringing internally at just how untrue it sounded. she couldn’t have blamed him for not believing her. she wouldn’t have is she were him. “i know i just… i figured turning up was the least i could do,” she shrugs slightly, and for perhaps for the first time in her life that she was a little more like her father. “i figured i could handle it,”

“you’re not.” he can tell from the way her voice lifts at the end ; the tiniest TELL, the sort he’s sure she knows by now but can’t do much to stop. he forgot how FRUSTRATING it was to stand there before adella and know she was the opposite of what she insisted, but be unable to reach the truth. not because he wasn’t worth it, but because this was who she was. on too many levels, he understood THAT much. “you’re not fine. that’s okay.”

more than, at that. it was okay to not be okay, a dozen people had told him in the aftermath of his accident - he’d laughed darkly back then, but with years to reflect back on, it was TRUE. this wasn’t a kind of everyday event that one could get USED to and be naturally good at. whether they had known henrietta well or not...- emotions were all over the place everywhere, and it would have been worse if one could stand there and say they WEREN’T rubbing off on them.

“i get it. i thought...- i thought i had to. but-” a deep breath. a tiny quirk of his lips. it’s not a SMILE, just the motion of one. “i’ve never been good at this.” she’d know that well enough. shifting his weight a little to try and stop his leg from locking, adrian fixed her with an even, blue eyed gaze ; concern the only thing that clouded it. “maybe we should get some air...”

#⌜ ･ﾟ ★ ･ * ― convos ⌟ / trevor. #adella robbins