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[ SMS ]  ::  I love you.   ❤ [ SMS ]  ::  I think I may have developed some kind of attachment to you, too.

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       ... Well.  That was brief.  Not that he minds; he’s not one for prolonged conversations -- or conversations at all, really.  David immediately follows suit without a word, giving the occasional glance at the various desks, housing detectives with their ill-fitting suits, gaudy hats and inevitably cold coffee that had been long forgotten.                ❛ I don’t suppose you’ll brief me beforehand.  I wasn’t given any information about this case. ❜

          at that he moves to grab his journal up, flipping through it to the date. he sees clearly that he did indeed write down the name david stahl. then he shuts the book with one hand & smiles widely at the other, rocking backwards on his heels for a moment.     ❛   i was indeed. come along -       this way.  ❜   he’s then starting to lead the way toward the forensic examination room.

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i wanna be with you always, so i ran to you.

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i raaaaan to youuuu

callout post

@egocentered is a dick for sending me that piano cover of our sad song AND HONESTLY HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME????

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The Edge of Love (2008) dir. John Maybury

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      He’s clearly having none of Edward’s frivolities, one brow rising in muted disbelief.                 ❛ David Stahl.  I’ve just been brought in as a consultant to the GCPD.  The receptionist directed me to you,  so I assumed you’d be expecting me. ❜

           his lips tip up into a smile at first before his gaze fixes on the man. the smile falls, hands grip at his coat on the sides. he then nods.     ❛   yes, that’s me ! mister e. nygma -     edward, ed; & you are ?  ❜  

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@nygmah gets that thing we discussed.

        ❛ Mr... Nygma, correct?  I assume I’m saying that correctly.             After all, it’s not every day that you see such a... unique name. ❜

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sorry bae hmu for fluff on skype xoxo 

@egocentered:

HONESTLY HOW FUCKING DARE YOU???? HOW DARE YOU???? HOW???DARE????YOU?????

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@fearridden  yes i am 

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Lisa wants nothing more to do with you. She doesn't love you anymore. I doubt she ever did. Who could ever love someone like you?

       Long, thin fingers trembled as David stared at the note, the paper crinkling in his ever-tightening grasp.  A horrible sense of dread immediately washed over him, and his heart dropped into his stomach.  Nausea swelled in his gut.  He felt like he was going to throw up.  His pulse pounded in his ears -- a steady boom, boom, boom -- as the world around him began to spin, distorting solid objects into twisted, amorphous shapes. 

       Some cynical part of him had fully expected this, but he’d never truly prepared for it.  As the months went on, he’d stopped worrying about Lisa growing impatient with him and his flaws, his insecurities, his problems, and began to think that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one to stay.  Maybe she’d be the one person that he could rely on.  That he could care for.         But she was gone.  She never loved him.  After all, who could ever love a monster?  A thief?  A man who had indirectly caused the deaths of cops and criminals alike?  Even Lisa, the pinnacle of acceptance and patience, had given up on him.          This woman, this saint that managed to remain a pillar of kindness and hope, despite all of her hardships -- something he himself had been unable to do, instead twisting into a bitter, hateful husk of a man without anyone to properly care for ( or about ) him -- was gone.  The one good thing he’d ever had in his life had abandoned him.         Emotions weren’t something that came easily to David, but in that moment, he found himself fighting back a painful lump in his throat and a stinging sensation in his eyes.  For the first time in years, he allowed his carefully-constructed walls to crumble.   For the first time in fifteen years, he began to cry.  Aside from the occasional shaky breath, however, his grief was silent.       And after he kicked away his chair, with naught but two ties around his neck to support his weight as his thin frame dangled from the ceiling, eventually, he, too, became silent.  

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Tell my muse lies about people they care for.

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                     and the coroner will never publish how  EMPTY  i really felt.

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        Poor David, in the meantime, is dozing comfortably in his spot at the table.  Another late night spent slaving away at his computer has left him dead to the world the next morning, which, sadly enough, is when Lisa’s at her prime -- and the way she’s picking through her binders with endless enthusiasm means she won’t be slowing down anytime soon.  He’s long since abandoned his glasses, keeping them perched just above his forehead while he leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.          His girlfriend’s -- no, he reminds himself, fiancée -- voice rouses him from his sleep and he bolts up with a start, his glasses falling back to his face and sliding awkwardly down the sharp slant of his nose.             ❛ S-say what?  ...  Oh.  Oh, yes.  I see. ❜          With a small grunt, he scoots his chair around the edge of the table until he’s sitting directly next to her.  In an uncharacteristically shy manner, he reaches up to touch her chin, guiding it with his thumb and index finger, before leaning in to gently press his lips against hers.             ❛ Is that better? ❜

@egocentered

“No, we’re definitely ahead of schedule. We’ve already checked  off everything we can and we’re not even six months out yet.” Shes’s surrounded by a sea of binders, most with little clippings from magazines and kitten stickers decorating the outside–but inside they are all neatly labeled in her bubbly handwriting. A diagram of the venue and the set up of the altar are also more or less solidified–complete with stick figures of the two of them in their proper places. When she speaks, she’s animated, her voice even more energized than her usual customer service tone.  “Oh! Wait–no, not everything. Yep. It says right here–I’m supposed   to get a kiss after not seeing you all day. It’s on the checklist.  Can’t start slacking now.” With a tiny grin, she holds the opened binder to her chest, hiding the papers from him.

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        He’s well aware that Mason will give in to his monetary demands.  He’s the Verger heir’s favorite toy, after all, and whatever upkeep it took to keep a child’s toy functional was a small price to pay.  What he doesn’t count on, however, is the reddish tint that spreads across his otherwise pale cheeks at the sudden show of affection from his employer.  

        There were occasionally brief, small physical touches between the two ( always initiated by Mason, of course ) but nothing more.  Normally, David was terribly averse to being touched, and he often tensed whenever Mason’s hand brushed his or touched his arm, but he’d slowly grown more accustomed to it. 

        ❛ I try to perform efficiently, sir. ❜

        He’s positive David has no reason to complain. But if he’s looking for a raise, the chances are that Mason will give it to him without much more than a snide remark. He’s a lot more lenient with his favorite toy, and it’s because he’s so fond of him that he’s willing to increase his pay. ( And he won’t lie—-the fact that David worked well in his absence does impress him. )

         ❛ —-Good. Don’t worry. I’ll give you an impressive bonus for all you’ve done. ❜ And he’s not lying; he’s planning to write him a generous check, and those to come afterward will have an increased amount of pay. Money is, after all, disposable to him; he has no problem with adding more to a favored employee’s pay. A hand reaches up, and he nudges at David’s cheek lightly–fondly. ❛ You’re such a wonderful employee. ❜

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      David was rarely one to complain about his pay; he did make a fair amount, more than enough to maintain his lifestyle ( which was -- what?  Red Bull and takeout, eaten alone in front of a computer screen? ) and still left some on the side.  However, his ego required that he request more.  More pay for more talent, and if he was being honest, he was considerably more useful than the rest of those that fell under Mason’s employ.         At the end of the day, though, he had to admit that his current pay did depend on this overbearing mess of a man -- and so, for one of the few instances in his life, he held his tongue and simply lowered his head ever so slightly in a show of respect.             ❛ ... Of course, sir.  It won’t happen again. ❜

         ❛ Then I’ll pay you more. ❜ There’s a hint of exasperation, then–like he expected David to take on the extra work without even so much as the concept of a complaint. He’s right; at the very core of it, Mason Verger is a very spoiled child. And he’s not at all pleased with the response he’s getting. ❛ David, ❜ there’s emphasis on his name then. ❛ You seem to be forgetting that I’m your employer. ❜ It’s his way of demanding respect, but it’s safe to say the other’s earned a special place in the heir’s heart by means of, yes, being one of his favorite playthings. ❛ Remember that. ❜ ( But he really will be adding to his check—-again, he’s earned himself a special place. Mason’s partial enough to him to pay him when he requests it. )