#it could've been syd's face 🥺🥺 or syd's pussy idc

[iglowlilac]

listen,

let's say you forgot something at work. maybe it's your pen. maybe it's a water bottle or, i don't know, your everyday scarf. maybe it's your little notebook. In either case, you forgot something at work, but it's that One Thing that pretty much makes you, you. a signature, in a way. it's as part of you as all of your bones; it's very you, like your dna, but made trivial. you don't even think about it like that, like it's something that holds that much significance to who you are.

but your boss does. 

your hot boss, the one that now gets on your nerves just in the same intensity you used to adore him. professionally speaking, of course. probably. you think (i mean: with your credentials, you could've been working somewhere waaaay better than... than whatever it is your boss has going on right now). he used to be your inspiration… but It doesn't matter anymore. it shouldn't matter anymore.

your boss... he's great at what he does. he is. no doubt about that. but maybe he's also a little bit too much sometimes. maybe he's a little bitch. a piece of shit, sometimes.

and maybe you're overworked and have been disappointed with him for months now. he's a mess, and at this point in your life, you should've been able to know fucking better. so, naturally, you decide to quit. 

your boss kept asking why: why were you quitting. but you tried to talk to him for too long now. and when you quit, you're angry and exhausted and feeling frustrated with life, really, so you leave that workplace in such a hurry that you end up forgetting your signature stuff in there. let's pretend (assume?) it's a little notebook, the one that's very you. you're always carrying it around with such a devotion, it could be your own heart. 

then again: you don't think about it like that. but your boss does. you don't think about retrieving this ordinary yet sacred little notebook (it's... whatever. you can get another one), but your boss finds it and, knowing very well it belongs to you, he caress its pages - the ones you've written out most of your creative ideas, the ones maybe you've drawn out, in sharpie, silly faces, when you were spacing out a little bit. 

your boss holds your little notebook with such a devotion… he can't take his eyes, his hands, off it. he knows he fucked up with you. he doesn't know how to fix it, tho (he knows he can admit to you he was in the wrong, of course. but how could he have you back? would you even be back? and why would you do that, when now, more than ever, it's pretty clear you deserve more than everything he's been offering to you, which is stress, for the most part).

he's sorry. like, really, really sorry. he's actually pretty sad you left, but because he's feeling shitty all the time, he doesn't even have the language to admit it or articulate this sadness just yet. for now, he's nothing more than a coward. he'll keep your notebook to himself. he'll never say a word about it.

#and that's s1 sydcarmy #tell me how this is not romantic tell me how this platonic #I DARE YOU #anyway #sydcarmy #still ......... truther 😭 #syd x carmy #IT'S THE WAY HE CARESSED THAT LITTLE NOTEBOOK #it could've been syd's face 🥺🥺 or syd's pussy idc