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ā you certainly didnāt have to , ā esme smiled , leaning in , slightly , to the familiar feeling of a kiss pressed to her temple . even as he set the box down , even as he carefully opens it , her gaze is settled on dylan against the backdrop of a new home , and sheās so sure . the colors of the walls and whimsical design of everything else could reflect her personality all she wanted , but there were aspects of dylan throughout as well found in refurbished bookshelves and a lack of extravagance in exchange for a cozy warmth . still , it wasnāt quite home . not yet . and she feared it wouldnāt be if there was too much distance between her apartment and victoria , if dylan wasnāt around as much as he had been over the past year . a glimpse of yellow peeks through white packing peanuts and steals her attention , breath hitching in the back of her throat as he pulls a yellow vase from the box .Ā ā dylan āā ā¦ ā itās whispered as she reaches out to take the vase in her hands , carefully running her fingertips along the crack down the middle ,Ā ā this was your momās . the one you told me about ā¦ the one she liked better broken . ā she glanced up at him , heart lurching at the sight of his smile , and carefully set it on top of the counter . reaching out , she gathered the fabric of his shirt in one hand and pulled him closer , tilting her chin to leave a lingering kiss on his lips .Ā ā i love it , ā she said softly , still leaned in ,Ā ā thank you . ā she stepped back , looking back to the vase ,Ā ā are you sure ? this is ā¦ pretty precious cargo . ā
quietness is dipped in a proud, still shy smile. itās lingered with pursed lips, and kindness that settled the dust behind brown eyes. sheād stirred him awake, and suddenly--- the blacks and greys turned to color again. suddenly, blue became his favorite color once more, in the very same shade as her stormy eyes. the carmichael house was toxic, and even with all the staff, he felt isolated in that big empty house. rarely was he home these days, because where esme macmillan went, dylan carmichael had followed. he would watch her skate, during the evenings, and heād take her out for warm chocolate and peppermint when she finished late. dylan had been a shell of himself, with no intention on living past his twenty-third birthday. and yet, here they were--- and heād be turning twenty-four this year. if it wasnāt for her, he may not have woken up this morning. if it wasnāt for her, he may not have known what it was like to feel anything again. she was a saving grace, she was his lighthouse.Ā āmhm..ā itās still quiet, and his smile is just as timid, staring at the glossy yellow that had been kept dusty from years in an attic so that his father didnāt have to look at that thing.Ā āshe would have wanted it here-ā soft, but undeniable.Ā āinstead of locked away in an attic, i think.āĀ
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his gaze has glanced around the soft pastels of an apartment, with hues of ice blue and shades of whites.Ā it was exactly how he imagined it would look, exactly perfect for esme. there were curtains that touched the floor, and sunshine that made the inside illuminate with light. heāll step over the threshold, and thereās a box in his hands-- he can tell sheās curious, because he hadnāt given her any heads up that heād bring anything.Ā āi got you something.ā stated lowly, but happily simple. heāll lead them both into the kitchen, kissing her temple and carefully setting down the gift and a perked brow. since he met esme, he knew what it was finally like to be excited again. he knew what it was like to feel joy, to touch it deep down in his chest with the same kind of sunlight that brightened through parted curtains. and heāll be careful when he opens the box, from each side as styrofoam peanuts escaped onto the table, and down onto the floor. a smile finally reaches the warmth of brown eyes, dusted with dark curls as his gaze flickered from the box to her.Ā āitās..ā words trailed off, and he reaches down, pulling out a yellow vase. old, pristine, and hand-made, with a crack that dipped down the middle.Ā āfor your place. i want you to have it.āĀ
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a smaller rink , privately owned and operated , was nestled just north of victoria and only twenty minutes from home . its bleachers didnāt quite layer themselves and the only hockey games it ever saw were closed practice scrimmages , but esme knew it better than most places . banners dipped down from the ceiling on either end of the rink , some more faded than others , with names of athletes past and present whoād trained there before heading on to an olympic games . the quiet is what she found herself drawn to , somewhere to hear the familiar sound of blade cutting through ice , to dip back into something sheād loved , more than anything , for a long time . sleeves covered her palms as she leaned down , fingertips brushing sleek ice , and her pace slowed after a couple hours already spent nearly overworking a body that hadnāt seen this kind of duration in weeks . a twinge of pain dulled behind her ribcage , and features furrowed into a shadow of worry ā¦ until the sound of a door closing stole her attention , and that aching faded behind the noisy heartbeat of a girl in love . even on skates , there was a subtle shift in the way she glided towards him , like the lightness in her chest was carrying her forward .Ā ā you would not believe how happy i am to see you , ā she comes to a stop at the barrier between bleachers and ice , carefully reaching forward , underneath the opening of a familiar denim jacket , to gently grab the fabric of his shirt at his sides . thereās a tilt in her chin as she looks up at him , bright eyes glossed over in quiet admiration and cheeks reddened by the cold air of an ice rink , and sheāll lean up to place a gentle kiss at the corner of his lips .Ā ā even happier if you put those on , ā sheāll nod to a pair of skates , lingering near her back , on a bench nearby , before looking back up at him ,Ā ā because iām going to keep asking and itās better you learn now , when weāve got a rink to ourselves , than around christmas at a very public rink . besides , where are you going to find a better teacher ? ā sheāll pull back , with a hopeful little grin , still holding onto him but at an armās length .Ā ā cāmon .Ā i promise full recovery services if you wind up sore tomorrow , and , ā she shakes her head ,Ā ā iāll fall down every time you fall down . or , even better , show you the vhs tapes my mom has of me actually falling down when i was first learning to skate . not pretty . ā ā @dylanxcarmichaelā
the cold had caught his attentionĀ ,Ā but only after the frame of a tiny brunette hadĀ .Ā his gaze has lingered on the beating of a steady heartĀ ,Ā and how her palm pressed against her chestĀ .Ā heād seen her push herself beforeĀ ,Ā and thereās a tiny flicker of of worry that mask the way to brown eyesĀ .Ā his head is dipped softlyĀ ,Ā and footsteps are echoed in the four corners of a skating rink that was far too small to hold someone as mighty as herĀ .Ā the distraction is loomed in the same way warm irises are gentleĀ ,Ā finding her on the corner where ice meets thresholdĀ ,Ā and sheās wrapped around the middle of his chestĀ ,Ā chin tilted upwards with a sparkle in deep blueĀ .Ā and his features softened in retraction to her compromiseĀ .Ā the truth of the matter wasĀ ,Ā she didnāt have to bribe him with the chances of fallingĀ ,Ā or old scrapbooksĀ ,Ā home videos-- though heās peaked an interest in seeing those one dayĀ .Ā all she had to doĀ ,Ā was ask- and sweet dylan carmichael would nod quietlyĀ ,Ā and do whatever is that would promise a twinkle in her eyesĀ ,Ā or a kiss to the corner of a crooked smileĀ .Ā Ā āiām going to end up sore-ā heāll addĀ ,Ā his voice reached in itās normal quiet pitchĀ ,Ā reaching up to tug a beanie off messy brown curlsĀ ,Ā tucking it into his back pocketĀ .Ā Ā ābut i donāt mind ..ā another silent gestureĀ ,Ā calloused fingertips whispered over the curve of her jawĀ ,Ā tilting her gaze up to look at him before she pulls backĀ ;Ā leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to the burn of heightened applesĀ .Ā heāll turn thenĀ ,Ā back to a bench where a pair of skates satĀ .Ā his back is turnedĀ ,Ā but his chest rumbled with nervesĀ .Ā you werenāt an athleteĀ ,Ā and you never have beenĀ ..Ā you couldnāt complete with the likes of exes that were over six footĀ ,Ā broad shouldered- and sharpened on the heel of a bladeĀ .Ā but you could write her love lettersĀ ,Ā signed in cursive for every year that youāve loved her-- starting with the beginningĀ .Ā you could write about the way heād been late to classĀ ,Ā rattling off an answer to a lecture that had taken their professor the last thirty minutes to explainĀ .Ā you could write about how when heād slipped into a chair just in front of hers ,Ā how heād glanced over his shouldersĀ ,Ā to be met with the sunken shoulders of a girl --Ā who had already been watching himĀ .Ā softness embellished around soft curlsĀ ,Ā just whisked out of her eyesĀ ,Ā framing high cheekbonesĀ --Ā and how his heart fluttered onceĀ ,Ā for the first time in yearsĀ .Ā ---Ā how you fell a little bit in love with her that dayĀ ,Ā tooĀ .Ā so dylan ties the skatesĀ ,Ā careful as heās glided from stable groundĀ ;Ā to the slick slip of iceĀ .Ā nearly stumbling alreadyĀ ,Ā heās gripped the railing --Ā nose wrinkled with a nervous deepening of a heartbeatĀ .Ā Ā āthis is embarrassing ..ā mumbled lightlyĀ .Ā and heās sucking in a breathĀ .Ā Ā ābut i promised iād follow you anywhere-ā a quiet huff of breathĀ ,Ā clouded around parted lipsĀ . his gaze lingered a little longerĀ ,Ā back pressed against a safety guardĀ .Ā his shoulders are a little softerĀ ,Ā and heāll glance down to his feetĀ ,Ā back up to a tiny blue eyed gazeĀ .Ā Ā āthink iāll make gold this year?āĀ
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āMy soul chose yours. And a soul doesnāt just forget that.ā
ā Ben Maxfield (via sunsetquotes)
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D Y L A N .
calloused fingertips dipped under the fabric of her shirt , trails of warmth left in the wake of his touch , spreading throughout her body and rising to the brims of her cheeks while sinking to the bottom of her heart . it was a back and forth , a push and pull , a lean in every time he pulled back , and with her hand pressed against his chest , she could feel the way his heart was racing just as hers was . in small moments of clarity , she caught her mind wondering if heād thought about it ā the closeness , the gentle brush of skin on skin ā like she had . heād pull away , and she moved closer , only stopped by the sound of her name whispered with a softness that stole the air from her lungs . she hummed in response , lips pursed as the tip of her nose brushed back and forth against his . lashes fluttered as he seemed to stumble over his own words , and a content sigh put her at ease as she pulled back , just enough to look at him . really look at him . wisps of black curled around his eyes , casting the warmest shade of brown and the saddest gaze in shadow . intimacy painted a subtle shade of red across his cheeks , a long the tip of his nose . lips , often pressed into pursed thought or weighed down at the corners in a pout . a face that seemed to separate itself in every crowd , brown eyes that casted downwards on the edge of a classroom , hands that gripped the cover a book or the stem of a pen scrawled across paper , a smile that could stop her heart ā ā¦ it was the make up of a boy sheād wanted to know for years . her heart skipped , and she knew now the way he seemed separate because he had the innate ability to silence the business of the rest of the world . she knew that his eyes were the same color as his mothers , and that they lit up at the corners of a dimpled smile . she knew that those same hands had spent years reaching out , fingers outstretched , trying to catch his motherās pain in order to heal , only to watch it slip through empty spaces in between ; gentle hands , delicate hands , capable of the most calming and exciting touches . and that smile ā that heart stopping smile ā whispered words that slowed down time . i love you , spoken into the quiet of her bedroom , as he held her closer . i love you , and her heart leapt into the back of her throat . i love youĀ , and she loved him back . dear god , she loved him back . gentle fingertips brushed up the height of his cheekbone , before settling under the striking edge of his jaw .Ā ā i know i donāt have to say it back , ā a breathless whisper as blue eyes caught golden flecks reflected back at her ,Ā ā but i also feel like i havenāt been subtle with the way i feel about you ā ā¦ āĀ it was honest . she wasnāt sure when itād arrived , couldnāt pinpoint an exact moment sheād fallen in love , but it was thereĀ . it was there , in moments when heād catch her quietly looking , attention seemingly gravitating towards him even when he wasnāt vying for it . it was there , in the way her hand so easily found his as she chose to stand next to him in a room full of vipers , comforting and calm and completely there for him . and it was there , in the way sheād always preferred solitude , until she knew the quiet happiness that came with his company . she leaned forward , resting her forehead against his , as her fingers entangled into dark curls .Ā ā you love me , ā itās melodic at the level of a whisper , smiled against her lips in subtle triumph as she leaned in . he loved her , and he was holding her against him like a lifeline , and it was everything . he loved her , and she loved him .Ā ā you , ā still quiet , but pressed against his lips , and then at the corner of his mouth , the warmth of his cheek , the corner of his jaw ,Ā ā love meĀ . ā and sheās completely wrapped up in him . you donāt have to say it back ; but there was nothing else she wanted to say more . he deserved to know that she had decided , definitively , to love him back , and that she would continue to make that choice . because it was the only one ; there was only him .Ā ā and i love you , ā pressed against his skin , quiet as ever , words meant only for him .
she loves himĀ ,Ā and it keeps a broken heart from breaking any moreĀ .Ā insteadĀ ,Ā it mends with the hue of softnessĀ ,Ā itās taped back together in the way his name sounds like milk and honey on parted lipsĀ .Ā heās sureĀ ,Ā if he could write a hundred novelsĀ ,Ā there wasnāt an english word capable of expressing just how muchĀ -------Ā Ā he loved herĀ .Ā just how beautifulĀ ,Ā just how enthralled he was to have herĀ ;Ā for her to be hisĀ ,Ā and for him to be hers and for the world to finally feel like he belongedĀ .Ā to not be outcast by the shades of blueĀ ,Ā and how they dipped behind a writers fingertipsĀ .Ā to not be clouded by his fatherās nameĀ ,Ā and a girl he wasnāt sure even really liked himĀ ;Ā much less loved himĀ ,Ā before esmeĀ .Ā how lucky he wasĀ ,Ā to be given the chance to know herĀ ,Ā and be loved by herĀ .Ā how lucky he wasĀ ,Ā to know the memories of her bathed in moonlightĀ ,Ā caressed under the sheets of a bedĀ .Ā how lucky he wasĀ ,Ā to be hersĀ .Ā and how itās the only thing that matteredĀ ,Ā the only thing that threaded that broken heartĀ ;Ā into something worth living againĀ ;Ā something worth beatingĀ ,Ā if it was beating to love herĀ .Ā and everything he wanted to sayĀ ,Ā locked away in a clever mindĀ ;Ā touched behind long fluttered eyelashesĀ .Ā heāll lean forwardĀ ,Ā and his nuzzle will touch the bridge of her noseĀ ,Ā only to kiss her again .Ā Ā
Ā i love you ,Ā and itās whispered on whisked lipsĀ ,Ā dipped down pale collarbonesĀ .Ā i love youĀ ,Ā and itās tugged at the hem of a shirt thatās tilted over her overĀ .Ā i love youĀ ,Ā and his hand is slipped under the small of her backĀ ,Ā to pull her closerĀ ,Ā and up to a cushion of pillowsĀ .Ā i love youĀ ,Ā and heās kissing her down the dip of her chestĀ ;Ā sloped by the slender curve of hipsĀ ;Ā and hands linger just above the hem of a buttonĀ .Ā his heart stammers with nervesĀ ,Ā but heāll look up in comparisonĀ ;Ā a silent mouthing of permissionĀ ,Ā before heās slipped between the denim fabric of a zipperĀ Ā then heāll raise up to capture her lips againĀ ;Ā his own red and flushed by the explored and unchartedĀ .Ā Ā āif you want me to stopĀ ..āĀ whispered as another precautionĀ ,Ā and fluttered lashes are caressed by soft brown eyesĀ .Ā his frame hovers over herĀ ,Ā watching in delicate silence as his hand is met with the fabric of laceĀ .Ā and heāll silently whisper into the crook of her neckĀ ,Ā a mantra of complimentsĀ .Ā youāre beautifulĀ ,Ā he says over and over again ,Ā like fluttered butterfliesĀ .Ā and heāll slip between her legsĀ Ā ,Ā a racing heart proven that he hadnāt touched anyone in yearsĀ .Ā he wants to be with herĀ ,Ā in every way that someone couldĀ .Ā and itās why the curiousness has touched behind warm irisesĀ ,Ā watching the way her body reacts to movementsĀ ;Ā learning as he goesĀ .Ā what she likesĀ ,Ā with the arch of a backĀ .Ā what promotes a gentle sighĀ ,Ā and how her lips parted a few minutes in betweenĀ .Ā heāll dip back down again ,Ā kissing and pulling at the hem of denim until theyāre goneĀ .Ā and heāll inch closerĀ ,Ā lining her inner thigh with an open mouth kiss and feathering upwardsĀ . arms looped around her thighsĀ ,Ā but heāll ask her if sheās okayĀ .Ā silenceĀ ,Ā masked on his endĀ .Ā and heāll gently move between the laceĀ ;Ā grip tightening only slightly when her back archesĀ ,Ā if just to keep her in placeĀ .Ā Ā
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& imessage. Ā ā§ø Ā ā dylanĀ š š«Ā ā
esme: ah see i think youāre probably just a little bit in love with me, which MAKES everything i do appear to be endearing. things like this are exactly why i canāt study at yours anymore.
esme: itās usually closed on sundays but i mightāve batted my eyelashes to get a set of keys and permission, of course.
esme: well, iāll just have to be extra careful to make sure you donāt fall, then. besides, iāve been told iām an excellent teacher.
esme: i think youāre right. far too sweet for something like armed robbery.
dylan: more than just a little bit, i think. but that's not true, i've always thought you were endearing. you can study here, i'll promise to not distract you.
dylan: of course you did. but i do like the idea of not being surrounded by people while i embarrass myself.
dylan: i don't know.. pretty sure i'm going to fall.. but if you want me to come, then i will.
dylan: that's what makes it the perfect crime. it's how i stole your heart.
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& imessage. Ā ā§ø Ā ā dylanĀ š š«Ā ā
esme: ah, distracted. right. iām going to take absolutely no responsibility for that one and leave myself sticky notes reminding me that studying at your place is a horrible idea :)
esme: itās fine really iām giving up for the day anyway
esme: you coooould bring it by the rink though.
esme: whatever? you donāt want to hear the terms and conditions first? i could ask you to rob a bank dyl
dylan: it's cute, when you're studying medicine. there are times where you get this really concentrated look on your face, and a little crinkle in your brows. and when you read, you mouth the words. everything you do is endearing.
dylan: are you back in the rink? that's good, i'd love to come by and watch. but i don't know how to skate.
dylan: and i'm afraid you're very small, if i accidentally crush you, i don't think i could forgive myself.
dylan: i'd be very bad at bank robbing, i think.
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& imessage. Ā ā§ø Ā ā dylanĀ š š«Ā ā
esme: hi did i leave my patho book in your room?
esme: you know what no nevermind even if i did i've just read the same paragraph four times so it's not like i'd be able to focus anyway
esme: what do you have going on for the rest of the day?
dylan: you did, it's sitting on my desk. you were supposed to study the other day, and we got distracted.
dylan: are you sure? i don't mind bringing it by.
dylan: whatever you ask me to do. :)
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@ofesmes
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