emersonvoorhees-blog

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

ivymanning:

Now into her third Manhattan, Ivy took another sip before feeling the tug on her arm. She wasn’t one to be that much of a light-weight, but there was surely something in the whiskey. Her brows furrowed in slight confusion, Ivy looked up to the person beside her and only stumbled out a single word “–What?”

emerson shouldn’t even care. they weren’t together anymore, and she wasn’t his responsibility. and yet, as soon as he’d spotted her at the bar when he’d walked in, he’d made his way over and stood next to her, waiting for her to notice him. “since when are you a day drinker?” he asked with one eyebrow slightly raised, silently judging her with his eyes.

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

bashbaker:

“See, that’s what I was thinking, hence the location.” A long sigh, as he picked up his glass and took another long drink. “I don’t want any random hook ups with girls. If I wanted that I wouldn’t be here.” 

“alright, so, what do you want?” even though emerson wasn’t usually one for sleeping around, hook ups with random girls were one of the only things that had gotten him through the first weeks of ivy’s disappearance act after she’d left. 

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

nateweston:

“That’s fair,” he mumbled, eyes drawn to whatever the other male was reading, though all he could really see were small, indiscernible letters. His mother had taught him the same thing, a good rule to adhere to, especially in the music industry. He was used to acting like a sycophant in order to get better opportunities, had kissed enough asses to get in touch with important people who could help him succeed. None of that mattered now, anyway, as he’d decidedly tossed all of that aside in favor of his own sanity. “Is the story any good, at least?” he asked, hoping to find a silver lining there. “Or is it just generally really bad?”

“it’s not even a story,” emerson replied with a sigh as he rubbed his right temple to release some of the tension in his head. “it’s categorized as a self-help book, but it’s really just a conceited man’s list of his achievements and how he was able to achieve all those things because he’s ‘so great’. But no matter, I’m sure I’ll find a way to publish it so that it doesn’t reflect that badly on the company, one way or another.”

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

tommy-wilder:

Tommy didn’t have the good sense to feel shame in front of strangers, so he opted for a toothy grin as he reached out to shake the stranger’s hand. “Oh, his name is Harold, but I’m Tommy.” He made sure to give it an extra enthusiastic shake. “He’s a real good one - Harold. I could probably get you a referral discount. I mean, not that you’d need one, big spender…” 

emerson wasn’t often rendered speechless, he was good at small-talk, but thomas’ request left him without words, only capable of staring at the man with a slightly-concerned frown on his face. the plan had been to take things slow, to ease into bringing up the fact that they were related. but maybe it wasn’t so bad to speed things up just slightly, just enough to make sure things wouldn’t spiral out of control. “wow, okay,” emerson’s only reply was, still looking for the right words, looking down at his coffee cup before deciding on quite a radical action. “all right, thomas, it’s uhm... nice to meet you. my name is emerson,” he replied with a single nod, not entirely sure that was really the truth. “hey, by the way, this will sound a little crazy,” he continued before the other could continue the inappropriate comments, “but do you by any chance know of a man named ... ‘roland voorhees’?”

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

mrskylerdavenport:

In the past five days this week, Skyler had managed to make five visits to The Bread Basket. He blamed it on the name. Who could resist freshly baked bread? The coffee wasn’t terrible which was practically a compliment considering how picky he was about his caffeine. This particular visit would have probably been just like any of the others… If he hadn’t stumbled over a loose shoelace and spilled about a third of his coffee onto some poor bystander’s slacks. Skyler almost saw it happen in slow motion, the milky beverage hitting the other guy’s knee. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry man. Let me grab some napkins. Shit.” 

it wasn’t that emerson was all too focused on the book he was plowing through, but that also didn’t mean he’d seen the spill happen before the substance actually fell onto the book and — more importantly, his pants. “what the--” he started as he jumped up from his chair, his reflexes and first-minutes thoughts taking over from rationale. “are you serious?” he said lashing out verbally to the guy who’d spilled ... whatever on his pants. “this is brooks brothers, if you think that i won’t —” stopping himself mid-sentence, emerson took a deep breath regaining his posture before he continued. “sorry,” he said as he looked down and then nodded, “yes, some napkins would be useful,” he continued as he picked up the manuscript, trying to salvage what was left of it. 

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

ivymanning:

It was like everything was suddenly in slow motion. It seemed to take forever for him to answer, she had almost wondered if he was even home. Maybe he even saw her through the peep-hole and decided to ignore her all together. That’s what she would have done. Ivy hated herself as much as he probably did. Though the minute the tick of the doorknob, to the swing of the door. Her heart just stopped – he was just as handsome as she remembered. Granted that it hadn’t been that long, to Ivy it had felt like forever. She took in every bit of him in that moment, as if it were her last. When Ivy packed her bags months ago, she didn’t even think to take one last look at him. Now she knew how cruel and selfish that was. How unbelievably stupid. He still had the same haircut, blonde slicked to the side neatly. His piercing blue eyes, as gorgeous as they had been. It was in that moment that everything actually felt okay for once these past few weeks. That sickening feeling in her gut, the trembling of her hands. It all had stopped. Granted she thought it was because her nerves now only seemed to become more tense and just freeze all together. Ivy wasn’t quite sure how she even ended up here anymore. Merely a few minutes ago she walked up to this door and she wasn’t sure how she did it. How the girl who had no courage to walk down an aisle, managed to walk down this hallway to face him. Now all she wanted to do was just throw herself into his arms, hoping he wouldn’t let go. She wanted to take it all back, every little bit. But she knew she couldn’t. She snapped back to reality real quick once she saw the confusion and frustration on his face. The door slamming quickly in her face, Ivy felt the wave of confusion rush over her. She couldn’t say that she didn’t expect it, how could he ever look at her the same after what she did to him. Not even she would forgive herself. She didn’t however expect it to hurt as much as she did. It was almost as if it was more physical than emotional. The pang in her chest, like someone had just kicked her when she was already down. Ivy tried to finally take a deep breath, before even releasing she could hear the loud bang on the door. Her brows furrowed, head titled to the side as she looked back up at the door. Emerson was never the type to become angry, yet here he was slamming whatever into the door out of anger. Ivy wasn’t even sure how to deal with it at this point. Her emotions over took every thought and movement in her. While she tried speaking, not a single word escaped her lips. Ivy’s hand covered her mouth, she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Composing herself quickly, she knew of anything, she wasn’t going to have a break down. Not right there. She could hear the click of the door knob again, watching it slowly then with the flowing smooth motion of the door. Seeing his face again, she felt a rush of relief hit her. Though the flood of emotions, all still intact. Hearing him talk, saying the obvious of her appearance. The tears that once welled up in her eyes, she could now feel falling down her face. “Yeah…I’m –here” her voice breaking. Ivy now felt like she could finally breath. Nodding her head, she tried finding the words to say. “I heard about your father. And–”. Ivy paused mid sentence, choking on her words again. She was almost nervous for his reaction. Letting out a long sigh she finally found the courage to continue. “I had to come see you. I needed to see you.”

emerson tried to make sense of situation, but was failing miserably. in the back of his mind, the conditioned principles were telling him to invite her in and offer her a drink — make her feel comfortable in his presence, but there was nothing comfortable about this, or about them, and all he could do was stare at her, one hand forcibly around the doorknob as if that would help him continue to hold a grip on reality.

what the hell are you supposed to say to your estranged fiancee?

wow. that was the first time that emerson actually realized that they were technically still fiances. right? were they? it was difficult to label just what exactly they were: there wasn’t a whole lot of precedence for these types of situations. as ivy replied, emerson closed his eyes, thinking it funny that even though he’d thought he’d forgotten the small nuances of her voice, he had been as wrong as could be. he remembered everything about her. just because he had pushed most of the memories to the back of his mind didn’t mean they couldn’t all come rushing back in with just one single look.

when she spoke of his father, emerson averted his gaze and looked down at his shoes. so the news had even reached ivy – wherever she’d been. he wanted to reach out to her, to tell her that she didn’t have to cry, but he didn’t know if he wanted to because of her, or because he’d gotten so used to caring for her over the years. emerson had been so in love with ivy. he’d felt like he could conquer the world every time he was with her, felt like no problem was too big as long as she was by his side. but then she ran off, and suddenly ivy had become the problem. and there had been no one to stand by his side the way she had. despite realizing that their marriage plans had, for the most part, been motivated by their families’ wishes, they’d had amazing times together, and there had been times where he genuinely thought she’d be the one he’d happily spent the rest of his life with. he’d certainly not expected that at twenty-seven, he would be living in a bachelor pad in lanford, with a dead father, a secret half-brother, and an (ex?)-fiancee who he hadn’t seen in months. intil now.

he needed to say something. he wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat. he didn’t want to sound angry or bitter, because he’d passed that stage already. at the same time, her return felt like it triggered a two-step backtrack in his process of getting over her. “it’s been three months,” he very simply said, his voice flat. it was just that: just a simple fact that he stated. but even though there was no emotion in his voice, the underlying message of balled up despair was obvious. he wanted to say more, wanted her to know that it wasn’t enough. you couldn’t just write ‘sorry’ on a note, leave it for your fiance, and then not be heard of for months. and you certainly couldn’t make things right by showing up on said fiance’s doorstep and declaring that you needed to see him. that wasn’t how it worked, but emerson knew that she realized that as much as he wanted to say it. and despite everything that had happened, he had never wanted to be mean to her.

so he stayed quiet, waited for a stroke of genius to determine his next move, but as the silence overwhelmed him, all he could do was sigh in defeat. just as he opened his mouth again, a figure appeared behind ivy in the hallway — possibly the worst timing ever for a pizz delivery to arrive. “oh, god,” was all that emerson managed to say, and even though the courier seemed to notice something was off between the pair standing in the doorway, he either didn’t care or didn’t think it was his business, because all he talked about was the pizza he was supposed to deliver. emerson was still holding the fifty, and even though he didn’t want to tear his eyes away from ivy, he handed the pizza delivery guy the bill as he looked at him and said he didn’t need change. it was most likely the biggest tip he’d receive all night, but that was the last thing on emerson’s mind right now.

and then there they were. Ivy holding her bags, and emerson holding the pizza. the delivery had broken up the tension between the two ex-lovers, if only by a little bit, and it made emerson revisit an earlier thought he’d quickly dismissed. “why don’t you uh — just,” he said with a frown, contemplating up until the very last moment whether or not he’d actually propose the idea, “you can come inside,” he said with an expectant look on his face, adding a soft “if you want” to the end of his sentence. yes, she’d said she needed to see him. but emerson was not going to let himself get caught off guard again, so he had no expectations for ivy. maybe she was only here just so she could see him, only to disappear after five seconds. “i didn’t expect company,” he added as he looked down at the carboard box of the pizza, “but i don’t think you can blame me.” this time, there was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

emil-gabor:

Emil chuckled and glanced at the cover of his book. “I suppose that depends on whether or not you think Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is a classic,” he said. “I know many people who do.” He smiled. “Oh, how fascinating. I have always been an avid reader myself – but I suppose it is different when it’s your job.”

“i would be one of those people, i admit,” emerson said before he smirked and nodded. “well, i guess then by default, i’m indebted to you as a reader,” he tried to joke, though technically what he said was true. there would only be publishers as long as people read. “it’s most likely blasphemy for me to say this, but.. yes, it is a little different. and like i said, family business, so i guess my intentions for going into the business are not as pure as those of a reader.”

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

brookeadams:

Bringing her focus back to her new companion, she smiled. “I don’t know, I feel like keeping it a mystery could’ve been fun— you know, two strangers meet at a bar, they get so drunk that they share everything about their lives with each other, except their names, which they don’t realize until it’s far too late.” She recited the cliché, clearly just teasing. “But since you had to ruin that whole thing, I guess I can tell you my name. I’m Brooke.” 

“oh, man, i’m the worst,” he joked as he squeezed his eyes shut and showed her wide smile while he shook his head. “clearly, i’m not mystery-man material.” once the girl introduced herself, emerson extended his hand for her to shake it and then picked up his glass once more to drink from it. “but, hey, i think just because we know each other’s names doesn’t mean we can’t get drunk and share each other’s life stories,” he continued before raising an eyebrow. “actually,” he said as the realization dawned on him, “i think that’s exactly what i could use right now,” he said, realizing that since his father’s death, he hadn’t really had a single day where he did what he wanted to, not what was expected.

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

sav-nnahchurch:

If you had asked Savannah how many times she had clicked onto Emerson’s social media pages back in college - she wouldn’t have an actual number to think of. That was because she had done it too many time to count. Though, once she graduated and started in on her career, she stopped wondering so much about how he was doing or if he was still with Ivy or not. At that point, he was on his own and if he hadn’t bothered to contact her - there was no need for her to contact him. Her eyebrows raised as she realized maybe he really didn’t know she had been here all this time, and she slightly started to laugh at his joke. “Yeah, but that doesn’t surprise me Emerson,” She half-joked, remembering a few times that it might have seemed the two would get in trouble for getting into other people’s things. College politics were funny. She smiled at his next few words, hoping he meant he could see her teaching because she was kind and wanted to help others - though she wouldn’t know any other reason why he would say such a thing. From what she remembered she had always been kind to him. Well, maybe during their break-up she wasn’t. “So, I assume you work led you into reading other people’s work, checking it for mistakes and making sure it’s worthy? Reminds me of how you’d check my term papers for me,” She dropped her eyes from him, remembering a time when he had stayed up late with her to read over her things, making sure she’d get at least an A on the assignment the next day. She always appreciated that. “That’s quite funny,” She blurted, her blue hues shot back up to look at him. “Last I remember you weren’t too good with dealing with anything no mater the location,” It came our harsher than she intended, but it came out.

emerson had been raised to hold up small-talk conversation. he was an expert in knowing just what comment to drop when, fill potential awkward silences and make people sound that they were a lot more interesting than they really were. it was part of being raised in a household that was a household name in new york city. now, however, it felt like everything that he tried to say got mixed up in his mind, overthinking every single syllable. he still felt more guilty, that was a given, but more so, he missed his friend. he had never allowed himself to admit that, because he loved ivy and if he admitted missing savannah, things would just get unnecessary messy. but now, with ivy gone, things were different, and the truth was that thinking back on his college experience, most of the fondest memories he had made included savannah in some way or another. it was sad to think back on that time and realize that those memories really were a thing of the past. “yeah, actually, that’s kind of how it went,” he confirmed with a nod, still just slightly surprised at how well she knew him. “and now i’m nearly taking over the company, so yeah, it’s pretty great,” he continued, knowing that she knew enough about his family history to know that his uncle would soon be stepping down and that the next ‘in line’ was emerson. at the sharpness of her next comment, emerson backed up a little, shocked but not entirely surprised. she was more than right. nodding as he took in her statement, emerson tried his best to come up with a suitable reply. “alright,” he said as he looked around the place, “i guess i deserved that,” he said, keeping up the smile as if to hide the slimmer of sadness in his voice. scratching the back of his neck while he searched for a way out of the situation, he ended up sighing deeply before looking at her sincerely. “you know, sav — i really was sorry. am. i never meant to ... “ never meant to what? fall in love with someone else? dump you for them because in reality, it was the right thing to do for his future? for his family? emerson’s words faded out, hoping she’d interfere, but when she didn’t, all he could do was look to the floor.

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

libby-rigby:

“You haven’t? I-I really love it there, there’s so much to do.” She smiled softly, fond memories clouding her mind as she thought back to when she spent the most time in Westbrook. Libby followed suit as Emerson wandered towards what she assumed to be his car. “Out– oh, n-no.” She chuckled to herself. “I don’t go out a lot, and.. my idea of a celebration is relaxing with my friends, a few drinks maybe, and.. I don’t know. Everyone seems to be really busy lately, I wouldn’t want to interrupt their plans.”

“most things i need i can find in kingsgate, so there’s not much need for me to venture out more,” emerson replied with a casual shrug as an explanation. “but great, i can’t wait to see what it has to offer,” he continued with a wide grin, before his features changed and a frown took over. the publishing of her book was big news, especially with a company like voorhees publishing, and the proper way to celebrate that was not by spending the evening all her yourself. “oh, nonsense,” he said as he shook his head before he took a closer look at her and realized she wasn’t kidding. “no — sorry, no, but that won’t do. i’ll tell you how you’re going to celebrate: we’re going to go and have a drink, and then we’re gonna go out to dinner at lammar’s and i’m going to buy you dinner and a bottle of their most expensive champagne. and i’m not taking no for an answer.”

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

ellaportermitchell:

“Okay, people probably ask you this all the time, but what are some of your favorite books and authors?” Though she figured the question was as difficult to answer as it was when people asked her about her favorite musicians and albums, Ella couldn’t help wonder what books someone in publishing loved.

when meeting with potential clients, emerson preferred to keep his own favorites to himself so as to not limit himself, but since this was no business meeting, he had no trouble summing up some of his personal favorites. “i know it’s a cliche, but i always have a copy of the great gatsby in my briefcase, just in case,” he started with a smile before taking a few seconds to think about other books or authors he’d enjoyed. “i specifically enjoyed the min kamp series by knausgård, and i know that i can always recommend primo levi to others and they won’t be disappointed,” he completed with a short nod. “what about you? are you a reader?”

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

matthewschase:

“So who wrote it…” Chase had left the question hanging as he was putting two and two together. While mostly looking over to Emerson and studying his look. This was Alex’s friend, the one Chase found attractive very younger. Of course it was just a small crush that soon disappeared. “Emerson, come on now.” he laughed only to hear the blonde say his name. “Yep, in the flush. Man it’s been so long, how are things going for you? Other than terrible stories coming from your employees” 

as the realization dawned on emerson, he completely disregarded the question that the other had asked, instead smiling brightly once chase confirmed who he was.  standing up, he extended one hand as he nodded to agree with what he said, and then let out a soft chuckle at the other’s words. “you’re right, it has been way too long,” he said as he shook his hand. “but uh, things are alright, yeah, not too bad. and ha, very funny,” he said with a slight roll of his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest. “it’s been a rough couple of months, but i’m getting back on top,” he told the other, repeating the same line he’d told countless others when they asked how he’d been doing. “what about you? how is everything? i heard from my mother that your brother is in the hospital?”

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

bashbaker:

‘I don’t have a lot of time. I’d rather have the quick fixes.” His life didn’t stand still because his personal life had gone up in flames. “I already went sailing of the shore of Maine. That’s almost the same thing I think, and it didn’t really do much.” 

“ah, well in that case i’d suggest continue drinking — you can’t be in pain over something your drunken mind can’t remember, right?” emerson replied with a faint smile before frowning and shaking his head. “hmm, not sure that’s exactly the same thing. taking that trip to europe wasn’t to get away from people, but more to get to them. more specifically, towards all those beautiful european girls. i’m not sure spending time on a boat will help you find your own european girls. or boys, if that’s what you prefer.”

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

tommy-wilder:

Tommy smirked at the way the stranger picked up so quickly on his joke. You didn’t carry around a $100 bill without being pegged as a Kingsgater, and most Tommy had met had sticks so far up their asses they would have been appalled at the insinuation. “Well, you don’t flash Ben Franklin in front of a North Ender without them thinking they have to do something dirty for it. Warning you now: butt stuff is a no go for me…” 

It was the sort of thing he always did. Saying outrageous stuff just to see how much of a reaction he could get out of someone. And this guy seemed neigh on unflappable, so he knew he was gonna have to try extra hard. “Oh, the hot chocolate’s for drinking. But I’ve been reading a lot on the internet about coffee colonics and I was thinking I should try it out. I mean, it’s just about as pleasurable as any other way to consume coffee… I’m on my way over to my dominatrix’s house now to help me out.”

not counting giggled conversations he had with friends as a teenager, this was probably the most vulgar emerson had ever gotten. it was the kind of language that was not usually appreciated in the circles he ran it, and even though emerson could take it, it still felt wrong to talk like that with ... well, family. it was strange to think of a stranger as family, but when push came to shove, that was exactly what thomas was to emerson. “hmm,” emerson replied with a polite smirk, “i’ll be sure to remember that,” he said, hoping to put the joke to rest before it just became outright inappropriate.

 with a frown reaching across his entire forehead, emerson listened as thomas continued on, trying to find a witty answer to his comments, but coming short when he looked at his half-brother and didn’t immediately see any markers of humor. “that’s a—” he started, before realizing that it had to be a joke. “hah,” he said instead with a forced smile, “good one. so, do i get to know the name man whose coffee colonic i saved, or?” he continued, wanting to draw the conversation out just so he’d have an excuse to continue talking to him.

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

But the worst thing about losing you was that you took —— my heart with you.

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

ivymanning:

You’ve got your demons, and they all look like me Who: @emersonvoorhees​ and ivymanning Where: Emerson’s apartment

Never in her life had she felt this sick, physically sick. Maybe it was the alcohol in her system, maybe it was her nerves. Ivy’s hands trembled, almost mimicking the rhythm of her irregular heartbeat. She could have sworn that time was standing still, that this was some sort of a dream. She had dreams about this moment for the past couple of years, confronting Emerson. Somehow, in some eerie way, it all seemed to be exactly the way she imagined. The walls of his building, somehow it all looked too familiar. Ivy was having some sort of deja-vu – she was sure of it. She felt as if her world was spinning, the mere thought of seeing him again made her dizzy. Yet here she was taking each step closer to his door, though with every step it only appeared to be further away. 

Ivy could still recall the day she left Emerson, albeit he wasn’t there. Her hands still trembled the same way she did that night when writing that letter. The same sickening feeling inside of her. She knew exactly the moment she left their door and boarded her flight to California, Emerson would never forgive her and hopefully hate her. It was something she still regretted till this day, hurting him the way she had. Ivy never cried over much, but hearing the  first voicemail of his voice the day she left, broke her into a million pieces. Now the only thing she wondered, is how he was now. No amount of keeping up secretly through acquaintances or stalking a social media account could answer that. Ivy knew the distance Emerson had between him and his father. Yet the moment she saw his face on a New York Times blog post at the funeral, she knew that her charade of happiness and moving on would end right there. On top of the list of problematic things she caused, of course. Her hands still trembling, she balled it up in a fist and tapped it against the door a few times. Only hoping he would be home to answer. 

the spacious kitchen island was still unused, with sharpened knives still wrapped in plastic and cookbooks yet to be unpacked from their moving box. emerson had never been a cook, had always imagined to hire someone to make sure there was food on the table, but until that happened he was stuck with micro-wave prepacked meals and take out food. today was no different, so after ordering his pizza ( hawaii with extra pineapple ), emerson quickly hopped in the shower after a long day of negotiations before turning on a netflix favorite as he waited for the delivery to be made. 40 minutes, the man on the phone had said, but emerson knew from experience that delivery places often preferred preparing their customers for longer waiting periods so that they’d be pleasantly surprised when the courier showed up earlier.

twenty minutes, however, must’ve been a new record. the tv almost drowned out the knocks on the door, but luckily a quiet scene was playing, and so emerson heard just enough to pause the program and get up from his couch, picking up the fifty dollar bill he’d put down in preparation to pay once his pizza would be in his hands. after the shower, emerson had put on dark sweats and a white tank top, while he left his hair dry naturally without using any product to style it. it was very unlike emerson to look so casual, but it was evening, and without any plans for the night, there was no reason for him to dress up any more than he had to.

he walked to the door with a grin, ready to get to his food, but every single thought or movement was arrested once he swung the door open and saw ... not his pizza delivery. after a few seconds ( the longest few seconds of his life ) he breathed out, the action merely physical as his mind still tried to catch up with what it saw in front of him. she wasn’t here. she couldn’t be here. she had left, packed all of her things and ran. he’d cursed her with so many colorful words he eventually ran out of insults, had grieved her disappearance the way people grieved lost ones, and he’d tried to forget about her while the world around him kept reminding him of the fact that everyone was disappointed their marriage was off. and now, she was here.

he could only act on instinct. his mind was too much of a mess to decide what the right course of action was, and so he let his muscles take over. as elegantly as he’d swung the door open, as defensively he now slammed it shut again, like pretending he hadn’t opened that door meant she wasn’t actually on the other side. that first motion was followed by emerson slamming his fist on the door before leaning his head on it as well, coming to grips with the situation at hand. of all the people he’d have expected at his door, ivy was the last one. and that was counting his dead father.

of course, he realized he couldn’t just stand there, his head on the closed door while she was on the other side, waiting for him to act. the problem was, he didn’t know what to do. he lifted his head, took a step back as he reached for the doorknob once more, and then slowly opened the door once again, his head hanging in shame at his earlier action. she probably had one eyebrow raised, her head cocked to the side just ever so slightly while she waited for him to respond. that would’ve been the body language of the ivy he knew. of course, he also thought that ivy would walk down in the aisle in a white gown while he stared her down from the fiance’s spot, but he’d been wrong about that too. he’d been wrong about a lot of things when it came to ivy.

and so, to read the situation, all he could do was lift his head and face her, though his mind still felt like it had decided to stop functioning once he’d seen her. “you’re ...” he started eventually, only to cut himself off before he could finish that sentence. she was what? back? she hadn’t spoken a single word, there was no way of knowing. “here,” he said eventually, settling for stating the obvious because what else was there to do?

[emersonvoorhees-blog]

sav-nnahchurch:

His lips grazed her cheek and she felt…shook. A shiver sent down her spine, though she returned the greeting. It had been a while since those lips of his grazed anything of hers, so her body definitely didn’t know how to react. She huffed out a bit of laughter as she looked down at herself. She was wearing some of her comfortable clothing, and wondered if he was just saying it to smooth things over a little or if he meant it. Her blue hues left the floor to look up towards him now, her face showing a smile. “I eat here every other morning, always has the best breakfast in my opinion,” She shrugged her shoulders before quirking a brow. “You do know that I’ve lived here the last six years, right? I’m teaching over at Haverford High,” She watched him, wondering what his facial features would end up telling her.

emerson continued watching her, never lifting his gaze away while she looked down and back up at her. in reality, he had kept tabs on her through social media only for a little while — once he and ivy became serious together, it had just seemed wrong to keep checking up on your ex-girlfriend. and so, at her question, emerson could only raise an eyebrow as he shook his head. “wh- no, i didn’t know,” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. of all the places he could’ve moved to, of all the places he could’ve stepped in to get some coffee, he chose savannah’s regular stomping ground. “six years? well, in that case i suppose it’s me who’s intruding into your territory,” he half-joked, running a hand through his hair to smooth the escaped strand back to its place. “teaching? oh, that’s great, i can definitely see that,” he said, knowing that with her kind nature and want to help people, savannah would make an excellent teacher. “i actually just moved here a few days ago,” he said to offer an explanation why he was in lanford. “i’ve had quire some ... eventful months, and i figured lanford would be nice place to deal with everything.”