dropthegunfloyd

[dropthegunfloyd]

[dropthegunfloyd]

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[dropthegunfloyd]

[dropthegunfloyd]

Even in the rain she could still feel warmth from him. It wasn't much given their current states but she tried to trap that warmth between them as they stood there in the downpour. He hadn't moved since she'd stepped into his space and she felt herself wondering if maybe she'd done the wrong thing when his free hand had moved to her face.

He was always doing that. It was like when he didn't know what to do he'd be drawn to reaching out and touching her face. He'd busy himself with moving her constantly escaping hair out of her eyes to tuck behind her ear. Let her see him a little better. Michelle tilted her face up to fully take his now equally soaked form in.

She thought she'd imagined him speaking for a moment. Then he'd spoken again. A hand still on his chest, she'd felt it. "Of course," she said, brow furrowing, as if following him was as simple as breathing. "And you stopped," she pointed out. "After everything I yelled back."

Neither of them was perfect. They'd both said some things that she was sure they each regretted. Some things they'd probably just needed to get out. Expel the demon thoughts that ate at them in their deepest insecurities.

Floyd didn’t move. Her hand in his, her head against his chest ---- it all felt like something fragile that might break if he so much as shifted wrong. The rain still poured SOAKING them both, but it didn’t feel cold anymore. Not the way it had a minute ago. He stood there with her, chest rising slow under her weight ;; BLUE eyes locked on the space just over her shoulder. He didn’t know how to respond to KINDNESS that came after hurt. He never had.

She felt small against him. Not weak--- Michelle had never been weak --- but worn down, like she’d given up MORE than she should have just to find him in this storm. And she had. Her clothes were soaked, her voice soft;; her hand in his trembling only slightly.

She should have been angry. She had every right to be. But instead she held his coat closed like it meant something && leaned on him like she trusted him not to walk away again.

That trust did something to him. It gnawed at the parts of him that still BELIEVED he didn’t deserve it. He could feel the rain running down the back of his neck dripping off his jaw --- soaking through the collar of his shirt. It was miserable. && yet, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t rushing to leave it behind. The storm matched what he couldn’t say. It gave him space to stay still.

He looked down at her hand resting over his. Her fingers were smaller, but they’d threaded into the gaps of his like they belonged there. He didn’t pull away. Didn’t shift. He just stood with her letting the silence stretch. Letting it say EVERYTHING he hadn’t. He didn’t offer comfort because he didn’t know how ;; but maybe this was enough. The warmth of her body pressed close. The weight of her TRUST in the middle of everything they’d done wrong.

Finally, he raised his free hand && brushed some wet hair out of her face, slow and clumsy. He didn’t speak. Not yet. His thumb LINGERED at her temple for a breath longer than necessary before falling back to his side. He didn’t know what they were, what came next or if any of it could be fixed. But for now, they were here. In the rain. TOGETHER. And maybe that was enough.

When he did speak, his voice was quieter than she was used to. Barely more than a BREATH. "You followed me in the rain." It wasn’t a question. It was a fact that hurt more than he expected it to. "Even after EVERYTHING I said."

[dropthegunfloyd]

His hands seeked her out again once she'd settled beside him in the dark. Fingers intertwining automatically as if they did this all the time. They had once, for a while. She watched back quietly as they looked at each other in the darkened room. Light from the street outside lit him enough to see his calm breathing and slowly she found herself adjusting to his rhythm. Matching his breaths with her own.

Her face tilted into his touch as he brushed away some of her hair. He was warm and soft and it was so nice to feel comfort from the man she knew could rain down hell in a heartbeat. To so many he was a threat but here, with her, he was a reassurance. She always felt safe with him even knowing what he was capable of. Knowing he could break her heart if she let him.

His voice caressed her in the dark; an invitation. "Okay," she returned before she felt him pull her closer. Her head curled down to tuck under his in their new position. A hand gently followed up his chest to rest around his neck as she pulled herself slightly closer into his warmth.

It was there she felt it. Safe - Fully and wholly under the blanket in their own little world they'd made in the bed. She felt as his breathing evened out, allowing the steady rhythm of it to lull her to sleep as they curled towards one another softly.

His fingers moved, still holding hers like a lifeline in the quiet dark. His blue eyes, heavy && soft, never left her face ---- tracing the way the light caught the curve of her cheek, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. There was something about the way she moved; so careful and close, that SETTLED the storm in his chest better than any silence or distance ever could.

For once, the world didn’t press in on him. It just softened, slow && warm.

He shifted a little, letting his body ease into the mattress careful not to pull away from her. The blanket, still loose && warm between them, was enough like a fragile promise that she was there, right here, not just in the room but in the quiet space between HEARTBEATS. His hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead, fingers lazy && gentle as if he was trying to MEMORIZE the feel of her touch before sleep pulled him under completely.

"Stay." he muttered, voice soft and low, almost a whisper meant for just her. Then, with the last bit of strength the day hadn’t drained from him, he pulled her a little CLOSER ;; closer than the world allowed outside these four walls until the warmth of her body pressed soft against his side.

His breath slowed && the edges of his mind blurred into something tender and real. TONIGHT, he thought maybe this was enough. Just her, the quiet && the soft weight of being held.

[dropthegunfloyd]

I’m going to go out of my mind if I don’t leave right now. Right now? Like right this second? Yeah! If I don’t leave right now, I know I’m never going to.

SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE (2021)

[dropthegunfloyd]

[dropthegunfloyd]

I’m impatient, and I’m… stubborn. And, uh… I stole an Abba-Zaba bar from the grocery store in fourth grade. And I’m… terrified that I’m gonna make a hundred wrong decisions and ruin the chances that you guys have to lead the perfect lives that you deserve, but…

↳ requested by anonymous

[dropthegunfloyd]

[dropthegunfloyd]

joanna garcia swisher as lindsey johnson in ‘as luck would have it’

[dropthegunfloyd]

Continued from here. | @hiredassault

She hadn't wanted to disturb him. Just make sure he wasn't uncomfortable from where he'd collapsed on the bed. Michelle knew he wouldn't fully appreciate her waking him up to take off his day clothes so instead she settled on making him as comfortable as she could in them.

Finding a blanket on the chair she shook it out as best and quietly as she could before drapping it over his slumbering figure. It'd slid down to uncover one of his shoulders so she stepped around the bed carefully to fix it. Tugging it up and over, her hand lingered slightly, brushing against his exposed collarbone. She was about to take a step away when his hand caught hers.

Eyes met his own half lidded look in question before she heard him slip out that single word. It wasn't a good idea. They were comfortable at the moment. In a very careful balancing act of will-they-won't-they. Dancing around each other as they tried to figure out their own shit. She wanted so badly to say no. Not ruin it. But he looked so relaxed and unguarded- peaceful. She wanted to know peaceful with him.

So she joined him.

Gently she slid her hand from his, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. She slipped under the newly laid blanket beside him.

[dropthegunfloyd]

He didn't make fun of her for her poor choice of words. Didn't point out that he could withstand worse than a little rain. Instead he watched her silently. It was unnerving, not being able to tell what was going on in that mind of his. She was about to try again when he moved. She watched him curiously as the rain continued to pour around them. She was about to ask what he was doing when she felt herself enveloped by his coat.

She wanted to protest that now he'd get even more soaked like her when he pulled it tighter around her. Almost as if telling her not to protest, silently. Eyes searched his for a moment before the protest died on her lips. She was done fighting. For now. His actions spoke volumes in his continued silence.

Instead she tangled her fingers into the lining to hold it closed from the inside. It was huge on her. She doubted her fingers would reach the ends of the arms without covering the back of her hands so instead she left the jacket as it was; like a warm blanket over her shoulders. She felt bad about getting it wet on both sides now but she was so cold and wet she would take any relief.

One hand snuck out of the jacket to rest over his, fingers slipping between his own as he held the jacket shut for her. Silently she took a step forward, head resting against his now wet chest. She curled into him, blocking the rain from completely soaking him through on his front. The sound of his beating heart joined that of the pouring rain around them. Michelle listened to it for a moment before pulling back a little.

"Let's go home. Get you out of those clothes."

The rain came down hard && steady. It drowned out the city sounds and blurred the streetlights into soft HALOS. Water streamed off rooftops, spilled into the gutters and splashed with every step. There was no break in it. Just cold, heavy drops that soaked EVERYTHING and turned the world quiet.

Floyd kept walking. The storm didn’t ask questions. It didn’t care what you were running from. That was why he liked it.

His clothes were drenched. Every step felt heavier. His shirt clung to his skin. His boots were filled with water. Hair hung in wet curls that dripped into his eyes. But none of it really registered. He didn’t feel the cold, not the way he probably should have. The fight still ECHOED in his head. He’d walked out fast, like distance could fix the heat in his chest. But all it did was settle the anger into SOMETHING heavier. Something closer to regret.

Then he heard her. Her voice. Not yelling. Just calling for him. He turned. She was there. Arms wrapped tight around herself like she was trying to hold it all in. && still, she kept moving. Just to reach him. That look on her face ---- like this was her LAST shot at pulling him back. It hit him hard. Harder than it should’ve. She shouldn't have had to do this.

He didn’t speak. He just moved. One step, then another. Slow && careful, like he might spook her if he rushed. She didn’t move away. Didn’t speak either. Just stood there, soaked and quiet and waiting.

When he REACHED her he didn’t know what to say. The space between them was THIN. The rain kept falling. It didn’t let up. He could see the way her jaw clenched from the cold. Her shoulders trembled under the weight of it all.

Without a word he shrugged off his jacket. It was heavy with rain but still warmer than nothing. He stepped closer && wrapped it around her shoulders. Pulled it tight in front, over the soaked shirt CLINGING to her chest. His hands stayed there for a moment --- holding the fabric in place. She didn’t stop him. Didn’t look away.

-------- && Floyd, for once, didn’t feel the need to run.

[dropthegunfloyd]

Contiued from here | @hiredassault

The man had said he was just going for a quick smoke. After more than half an hour, Michelle found herself wandering up to the roof. Zoey'd already gone down for the night, exhausted from their earlier trip to the park before dinner.

She'd been ready to ask him what was taking so long for him to smoke a damn cigarette when she'd found him in the quiet of the roof. He'd looked so relaxed. Almost peaceful so the words had been trapped in her throat. Instead she found herself trailing across the roof and joining him.

It was rare to see him like this and she didn't want to ruin it. She slid into place behind him like a part of a puzzle. It wasn't until he was in her arms that she felt it. The quiet. Her mind slowing the constant buzz of motherly worry and stress. The sky almost looked painted in front of them. Made her wish she was more crafty so she could savor this moment in a picture. She doubted finger painting would do it much justice.

She felt him let out a longer breath. Lifting her chin, she rested her forehead against the back of his shoulder. She tried to burn the picture of the sky before them into her memory so she could call upon it later. The feel of her arms around his still form. The familiarity that had grown between them. It was nice. Safe. Safer than she'd felt in a long time. So used to having to look over her shoulder for most of her life it was hard getting used to something like this. It still felt like a stolen moment from someone else's life.

[dropthegunfloyd]

Continued from ( x ) | @hiredassault

She'd almost let him go. The fight had gotten heated and they really needed a moment to cool off but things were left unfinished. Michelle hated that. So she'd grabbed her flimsy wind breaker who had money for a proper rain coat about 20 seconds after Floyd had stormed out of the apartment and gone chasing after him.

He'd been at the end of the block by the time she'd made it to the building's front door. It'd been a game of catch up ever since. Curses about his longer legs and speed poured out of her under her breath as she tried to keep up. Once or twice she'd lost sight of him causing her to call out his name into the sheets of rain in frustration. Arms wrapped around herself as she chose a path and followed it, hoping she was going the right way.

Finally she was close enough that she thought she might actually be able to catch up. She called his name again hoping he'd take pity on her washed up sewer rat appearance as the water poured down her neck and into her clothes beneath the jacket. Maybe she would invest in that rain coat. Hair was sticking to her face, water following the premade trails and dripping. It was hard to see at this point. He just had to storm off into the rain.

But he'd stopped since the last time she'd called his name. A lone figure in the middle of the street, turned back to watch her as she continued towards him, slower. Now that she had his attention she didn't have to run. She was soaked through at this point. Her jeans and definitely see-through shirt felt like a second skin, plastered against her. She hadn't even had time to zip up the jacket in her hurry.

Mere feet away from him now it still felt like a mile with the continued storm cascaded down around them. It felt like a waterfall between them and if she could just get through it maybe she could get a reprieve.

It was so tempting to just continue their fight right there in the rain. The storm at least was a good background for their feelings. But she was cold. And soaking. And she really didn't want to fight anymore.

Meanwhile he looked like something sculpted like one of those statues at the big museums. Water dripped from his still formed curls down the sides of his face. He looked wet but more like Mr. Darcy from that lake scene Michelle found herself staring at more times than she could count. Damn him for still looking good in the middle of a damn monsoon.

"It's raining," she said finally after standing in front of him silently. Stupid. Obviously he knew that. That wasn't what she meant. "Come back to the apartment. You'll catch your death out here." Also stupid. If a hailstorm of bullets couldn't get him she doubted a little rain would stop him. Wiping her hand over her face in frustration she tried one last time. "Look. Just come home."