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noorhelms‌:

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nikovinter‌

It was early, much too early for Niko to be awake in the first place (because what kind of person could possibly think eight a.m. was a reasonable hour to be awake?), and even more so considering he hadn’t even been out partying, but the frustration from his inability to fall back asleep had made him itch for a smoke and thus, he had made his way out of the building.

The older he got, the further away from home he seemed to move yet, here he was, in the big apple and running into his past, the one person he had once thought of as home. For a moment, Niko was certain that he had a stroke or a brain tumour, or just about anything because what were the odds that he would’ve ended up on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean from their hometown yet at the exact same address as the girl he had been so certain he would marry a decade or so prior.

“Love?”, He found himself asking, turning his body to fully face her as he was processing the fact that, unless he was schizophrenic all of a sudden, she was indeed there. “What are you doing here?”, He asked her in Norwegian, more surprised than anything else, even as a tightness settled in his chest.

time didn’t stop for them. the countless romance novels she devoured as a child were wrong, she didn’t see the thousand blinding lights of fireworks when their eyes met after years later. no, her life has never been similar to a fairy-tale and time, in fact, is cruel. he comes back to her mind, scratch that, he invades it in waves, smothering her peacefully with each blow. “this is my home,” she mumbles in the language she hadn’t spoken in ages, startled by the strange her own voice sounds to her. a stranger. she feels like a stranger in her own body, standing next to another stranger. ironic how she still hears his laughter like its engraved in the depth of her soul. baby blues widen with desperation, anything to point out that this, whatever this is, not real.

“what are you doing here?” the weakness in her tone is enough for a year long self-hatred session, but what hurts her the most is how frantically she wants to stay by his side, to hold him in her arms. does she have any rights to feel so happy and sad, at the same time? love doesn’t know what to feel, or how to act, not when he stands there in all his glory, a total embodiment of her ever so recurring nightmare. she blinks rapidly, hoping the tears would just go right back where they came from, if that’s ... possible. “i don’t understand,” she says, almost pleading, not with him directly, but anyone who’s listening, slowly squishing under thew weight of his ghost. the baby steps she takes stops dead in front of him, close enough to reach out & touch his cheek, she thinks, right before her movement dies mid-air, holding it back with the last crumbs of self-respect she has. “how’s this possible?”

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im feeling p tired from yesterday : / i need to go for a walk ( love that for my fatass ) & clean the room before my roommate comes back . i owe replies from 5-6 days ago bshdjklak im sorry but im baby . and a snail

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ofmagia‌

she pouted tempestuously and mumbled something along the lines of “worth more than your apartment.” she wouldn’t hold it against love, she had plenty of money to go around she had just liked the bag quite a bit. “black please.”

quiet, but love still hears her but it’s better to pretend not to, especially when they are both hangover from yesterday’s shenanigans. “just like your soul?” chuckling at her below mediocre ‘joke’, she turns the kettle on, tapping fingers on the cold marble. “did we have fun? i don’t remember .. like, anything.”

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mutuallycursed‌

HIS  EYEBROW  FURROWS  at  the  foreign  word  that  comes  out  of  loves  mouth .  “ i’m  sorry ?? ”  he  says  before  he  realized  who  she  is  and  a  smile  appears  over  andy’s  face .  “ oh ,  hi  love . ”  a  small  shrug  rolls  off  his  shoulders  at  her  question ,  “ i’ve  been  working  a lot ,  have  a  lot  of  gigs ,  y’know . ”

“a successful boy,” love beams, an impressed ( and for some reason, entertained ) smile curling her cherry lips up. “love that for you, andy.” before she spirals into another case of existential crisis, she mirrors him, shrugging. “and i was coming home from a free entry club. life. but yeah.. want to get something to eat? unless you’re tired .. then good night to you.” smooth, love, smooth.

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cattt420‌:

@brxisms​

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stcrlingdavis‌

A soft smile formed on his lips as she referred to their little code phase over whether or not they’d be spending the night with someone else in their bed. He wasn’t sure why that made his heart rate rise, but he did know it was nice that she didn’t want to see him with anyone else. Trying not to think too much into it, he followed through with his offer and picked her up, holding the blonde tight against his chest. Something about this closeness felt so right, almost as if setting her down would feel like some sort of lose. “So how exactly does this work?” He laughed through the end of his sentence, “Am I supposed to carry you through the apartment door, or would my bedroom work? Whatever your heart desires my wonderful wife.” Sterling nuzzled his face in her hair waiting on what she wanted. And in this moment he realized she was the type of person he’d wait forever for, on anything, big and small. And that scared him. Despite being prone to lots of emotions and developing feelings, with Love the idea was something he wanted to stuff away. He was almost sure this whole thing was still a joke to Love, and he couldn’t get his hopes high anymore, not now at least. A heart can only take so much. And then she spoke again and right now her voice was like music to him. “Miserable together? That sounds like a solid plan to me. My bed is quite used to miserable nights alone, I don’t think it’d mind a miserable party of too.” A weak laugh escaped his lips. He didn’t want to be miserable with her. He wanted to be curled up under the blankets making her smile and he wasn’t quite sure how to tell her a night with her could never be miserable so he decided to say nothing more about the subject, afraid he’d out the fact he didn’t see her the same way he did when they first met in italy or even a month ago. He felt like he had finally woken up, but decided best not to tell her.

she feels like a porcelain doll in his arms; secure and protected, yet extremely fragile and minutes away from shattering. nuzzling up against the hollow of his neck, she can feel the thumping of his steady heart. for a second, she makes the mistake of closing her eyes, getting lost in the feeling of warmth and fuzziness, like it’s meant to last forever. of course she knows better than that - there’s no forever, especially with sterling, not when he has so many people waiting in line. she could never be the one, and that’s a fact she has to live with. from where she lays her head, she only sees parts of his god like features - the strong jawline and full lips, but she misses his eyes, the same eyes that make her feel home. like they actually belong together, like they are stuck in an alternative universe, where her traumas and his endless list of love interests cannot get to them. “your bedroom,” she says as she holds on more tightly than before. finger tips tenderly graze on his shoulder, wondering how he manages to scare her terribly. he is going to leave you just like the rest did, her mind keeps repeating to her, some sort of defence mechanism against a highly possible, future heart-break. its his words that bring a shy smile to her face “after we handle the proper married couple tradition thingy, let’s go to your bed.” she’s amazed how the words leave her mouth so effortlessly, like sleeping with him is no big of a deal. love knows she’s playing with fire; the urge to have him closer to her each day and night when he’s not really there, at least for her. he never can be, and accepting it is the first step to getting better. “we can watch your walls. or we can just do the plain old talking, your choice.” 

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honeydips‌:

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scnflwers‌

charlotte lets out a breath she did not acknowledge holding when love has her arms wrapped around her body. there was a constant feeling of protection that hit through charlie whenever she was near the other. “ you’re sure it’s fine if i come in? ” normally, she wouldn’t even have to ask, really. but considering her previous enccounters with sterling and the lack of a definition in their current relationship, the brunette was afraid walking into their home could end in yet another complicated moment. " it’s like you read my mind, honestly. i was going to order something to eat but i realized i don’t have a roommate anymore and it would just lay there because i can never eat the entire thing by myself.“ she beams, taking a few steps into the other’s apartment, swiftly turning so their body were facing love. ” what were you up to? beside having a junk food night and not inviting me. “

“yuh, yuh. come in, mademoiselle. i’ve been practising .. my french, if you cannot tell.” she giggles, eyes slowly tracing the room for any sign of sterling laying around. she doesn’t mind the mess, truly, she’s one herself - but having charlotte in their apartment gives her a feeling she cannot shake off. it’s awkward as one situation can get, but she hopes they can move past it. so what she married her ex? so what she wanted to hold her hand while watching tangled? it meant nothing, for sure. “you’re a loser, charlie,”  love hums, “i can eat my pizza and chinese by myself .. but i’ll do the honourable thing and share with you.” checking her phone to see any updates on the take out, love shrugs. “nothing much, really. just needed a movie night. now .. now it can be a girls movie night! but yeah. the same old shit, to be honest. you?”

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“you know i always want to get tacos,” love says, eyes trailing off to her friend’s notebook to have a peek on her writing. “i’m not sure if i have the money though, but let’s just go for it. low budget russian roulette, eh?” she tilts her head back as she hopes to find the best position to soak under the sun ( and possibly avoid the eye contact as she delibately moves into some serious topics. )  “how are you doing?”

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“do you want to go get tacos..?” she tapped her pencil on her notebook to the beat of the music that played, liz was trying to get some writing done as they were sitting outside in the sunshine. “i feel like that would make this day way better.”

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marlowen‌

she really had been sleeping so well. she finally got someone to work her overnight shift at the diner so she could get some schoolwork done and get to bed early - which she did. and she had been enjoying a peaceful, deep sleep when she was startled awake by a banging on her door. her roommate was away for the night and so, marlowe got up, grabbing a knife from the kitchen on her way - one could never be too careful - and opened the door. she immediately recognized the face on the other side of the door. “love!” marlowe whined, still half-asleep, squinting against the light from the hallway. sighing, she turned, leaving the door open for her cousin behind her and set her knfe on the counter. “being asleep at two in the morning isn’t being an old bore, it’s being a healthy adult.”

“oh my god, you were going to .. kill me?” love says, the childish chirp in her tone annoyingly alive. “i am not an adult,” the door closing behind her, she directly finds her way to marlowe’s kitchen, hoping its in a better condition than hers. hand stuck in the first box of cereal she gets to, the blonde shrugs, “i’m baby.” the same playful smile lingering on her lips. “i was bored and i wanted to see my ‘adult’ cousin, is that a crime? huh?” obviously she doesn’t want to tell her how lonely she felt, or she missed their once in a blue moon deep conversations. “any juicy news? how’s auntie doing? missing me?”

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𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓯𝓸𝓻 @nikovinter

she’s an old lady now - an old lady with her old ladyish routine. waking up at eight am, kicking the sheets, getting herself an iced-americano instead of breakfast ( because that’s how her generation feeds themselves, right? ) and on her way to university. it’s too much too sudden; the feeling of getting used to somewhere, having a place to call home, friends to lean on.. and truth to be told, it frightens the shit out of her. its a constant, unspoken trail of thought - she’s always wishing for more excitement, knowing damn well, it’s her self-sabotaging side doing the speaking. “well fuck you too,” she yells to the phone, god, she wishes she had those old lady phones so she could loudly flip it exaggeratingly. that’s when she spots him, by the corner of the apartment complex, standing alone under the dim lights. is it possible? love stops on her tracks, barely breathing, unable to hear anything but the loud thumping sound coming from her chest. she’s shaking, why is she shaking? that’s not him .. right? it’s crazy how much he reminds her of her own personal ghost - the friend she still remembers fondly, her first true heart-break. “niko?” a whisper is all she can muster under the circumstance & she can’t be sure if he can hear her, or not. how long has it been? eight, nine years? funny how he remained the same but changed a lot, still has the smile of the boy, who would push her on the swings. i have to know, she thinks, it’s been ages since she hasn’t been haunted by his ghost. it cannot be him. here she goes again - he’s the sun, she’s the poor icarus, flying to close, onto his death. “niko?” 

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𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓯𝓸𝓻 @marlowen

shit happens more often than she lets on; the sudden urge to pack all of her stuff in that tiny luggage of hers, drag her ass down the lonely & dangerous streets of ny - just because she feels so ( or more likely, because she’s used to it ). brunette is the person love can think of when she’s in full panic mode, not that she would ever let her know. two am, she sneaks out of the apartment as quietly as possible, making her way to her cousin’s place. funny how she’s her family, funnier how she can still muster the word ‘family’ after all this shit. she knocks on the door - hell, she’s banging, not giving a single heck about who’s asleep and who’s not, especially marlowe. “don’t be an old bore, come on, open the door.”

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love wobbles toward the entrance with her kanken hanging from one shoulder, extremely excited to meet her soft bed. times like this she feels old - older than a twenty-two year old, calling quits at four am like a loser, as she would call ( if that person wasn’t herself ). too caught up in her own world, she doesn’t see the familiar figure until they collide into each other, eyebrows raising in confusion & anger. ‘drittsekk, watch out!’ alcohol running high, it takes a second for her to really see him, and more importantly, listen. “oh damn,” it’s just .. andy. “no-no, don’t be, i’m okay.” she giggles, patting the hand holding her for the sake of balance.  “where have you been? haven’t seen you in a long time.”

& * /━━━ OPEN STARTER !

ANDY  HAD  JUST   finished  one  HELL of  a  long  night  of  djing  and  wasn’t  expecting  to  full  force  collide  into  anyone  this  late  or  as  a  matter  of  fact ,  this  early  in  the  morning .  “ OH ,  shoot !! ”  he  stops  and  reaches  his  hands  out  to  make  sure  the  other  is  okay  and  doesn’t  fall .  “ sorry ,  i’m  so  sorry !!  i  just  wasn’t  expecting  to  run  into  anyone  at━━━ ”  he  looks  down  at  this  watch  to  check  the  time .  “ four  am . ”  he  says  as  he  feels  his  cheeks  warm  with  a  light  shade  of  red .  “ are  you  okay ??  again ,  i’m  really  sorry . ”

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You were only seventeen Soft speak with a mean streak Nearly brought me to my knees