eventhescores - Tumblr blog

[eventhescores]

wndrbcy·:

                  ♡        this city which haunted him and drew him back to build upon the bricks; fragmentary, wide and upwards—it’s always two stranded twists here, pulled tight and tucked in the bronx to get him pretty and perfect for manhattan. manicured, nipped too close to the bud, but laurent could never say no to a party. the third handshake was an indication that he’d ought to keep a palm close to his chest, ready to obtrude before he caught the rime, introduce himself first to make pyrrhic invitations a little less … that way. things felt modified as they sipped and laurent familiarized himself with the company. no good with names, only glasses guy who produced and fancy tie who had a job for him, then there was starr who had insisted he accept the invitation, and juliet from..

                  ♡        he caught her once, and in a millisecond laurent is pricked with the echo of them. floated towards, he took the time to sniff along the flowered path-popped in to small clusters leaving the trail of his presence, all the while stealing glances. each step rippled below him, sent sound waves in her direction. “i didn’t know i would see a familiar face.” it was all the same, juliet growing outwards and long into herself, like finally fitting into that perfect pair. he leaned in to let modulated timbre glide over the music and conversation around them, his palm, touched against her arm briefly, retracted as he remembered. 

                  ♡       laurent felt more like a plus one, rolled his eyes at the thought of one consultation earning him a spot against the skyline. had he even gotten paid for it? maybe this was their form of a check-an open door to more jobs. laurent would take it, and the vino. 

                  ♡       a silly feeling inside, laurent shook his head as he realized it was he who didn’t quite fit in here. there was really no use for him in a room that didn’t need a leader, here he stuck out sore. loud, not yet adjusted to the social altitude. every instance of uncertainty is met with a drink and a crinkling of his eyes-disguising that he’d prefer to be at his hotel, finishing up a very overdue coding project. but this has his attention. after all, the due date of their post-mortem was much more past date. “…” locked gaze hits harder when he’s not across the room, left laurent at a loss for words. up, again, goes the base of his glass.

laurent had taken walks in her dreams over the years. barefoot and padding, soundless, moving through space without seeming to move at all; a cloud passing over a seamless sky. juliet would awaken with a permanent shiver clinging to her bones and would swallow an extra pill the following night, maybe a third the next. anything for a sleep that would gift her the total blackness she’d begun to trick herself into believing was the right kind. the dead kind. the crushing kind. how else was she to recharged, grow out new skin that didn’t pine for the delicate chill of shady grove air?

except, it wasn’t that at all. the crisp nature of that breeze wasn’t exclusive to her hometown, it was exclusive to the certainty of walking through those swinging double doors that used to depict nightmares for her and knowing that laurent had whipped them up to something palatial. every year since, something would happen to tip her off balance, and her body would begin to wither with old cravings. he grew the notches in her spine, and when she’d left him, she let him keep them. 

a dark glistening films his eyes like foreshadowing - an insecurity, or perhaps just general uncertainty, she’d only ever seen in him when he sought to empathize with her. a warm flush ripples through her. i’m more drunk than i thought. a small, prickling smile plucks wine-bruised lips apart. he brushes her arm and a jolt tears through her. one of those notches lodges itself back into place. she stands a little taller. “i didn’t, in truth, think i’d ever see this particular familiar face ever again.”

it’s an overshare. an immediate racing towards an intimacy that had long iced over, perhaps even fossilised. she falters for a moment, glances over his shoulder. no one else who understands the gravity of this reunion is within sight. the wine takes a stronghold of her tongue once again, lead stringently by the feeling that became of her whenever their eyes sweep one another’s. “strange. i’ve never felt quite right at a party you weren’t the epicentre of. just when i thought this was a write off, you show up to save the day.”

[eventhescores]

@wndrbcy​​ !

juliet is happy, most of the time. or she thinks she is. it’s an easy feat to avoid the mirror and instead see how you dazzle in the reflections of strangers eyes, avoid the loneliness of your empty penthouse when you can - so then, when asked, you can answer: yes, i’m doing so well. thank you. 

there are certain nights wherein it becomes a little more difficult to guise that swilling blackness livened beneath her gilded surface. tonight, an industry party they called it, all cocktails and cocktail dresses and cocktail-flavored breath. she had fled the party for a brief moment to catch her breath outside; pressed her hips so hard into the iron railing of the balcony it shocked her sober. a sharp intake of breath, and she pivoted on a pointed heel at the sound of footsteps. 

“i was looking everywhere for you, dipshit,” isabel chided. juliet dropped her head, raven shimmer cloaking her face. a shame, some might say. to hide something so striking. “i’m sorry, jules.” she took a softer tone, now. and balanced an encouraging hand on her shoulder. “at least you know you can trust your gut. you said he was a red flag from the get, right?”

she nodded lowly, fingers cracking around the balcony. she liked the winter chill from so high up. it had a cooling effect on her hot-friction heart. “we don’t have to talk about it. let’s go inside. i think i’d like to get quite drunk, quite quickly.”

juliet warmed from the inside with a velvet coating of bruise-red wine, and bit by bit, she felt that cocoon beginning to crack. it was while she was laughing it happened; a brief, suspended moment, her head thrown back and mouth open like she was waiting for something to leap down her throat. an answer. love. laurent? his hair had changed, his shoulders broadened, but the haze emanating from him was unmistakable. “oh, well, jesus christ,” she spewed rapidly, quietly, the spell of humor broken in an instant. it seemed she was not even able to run - her sudden shift upon seeing him had attracted his eye, and into them she felt herself hurtling.