mirokos-blog

[mirokos-blog]

“Don’t most things look better in the dark?”

“ i have to admit, i thought it wouldn’t be as impressive, “ vanamo said as she stared at the hundreds of meters tall building. “ it probably looks even better when it’s dark. what would you say ? ”

[mirokos-blog]

tywysoges-g·: 

“So help me understand.” She mused, turning towards him. She reached out to gently rub his back, she could already tell he was going to feel like shit tomorrow. After all, he had been pretty drunk when he’d arrived. “But you are. Even if you don’t believe it.”

“I can’t,” was all he mumbled. He couldn’t, because he didn’t understand himself. He couldn’t even remember what he was referring to, but her presence was calming, and he found himself releasing a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “No, I’m... I’m not. I can’t even sell myself as a good fiance, how am I supposed to be a good husband? And I have to run a country some day? I can barely keep myself alive, much less two million people.”

[mirokos-blog]

lucianabxlla·: 

“What do you want to do then?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. We both know that.”

[mirokos-blog]

yangbourbon·: 

and bianca mimes an exaggerated frown as she nods, taking his statement as it is. if he says his parents aren’t bankrupt, who is she to contradict? ( note, she makes a mental reminder to write this down on her notes app later. slovenia economy? royal family treasury. miro cut off. banking malfunction? family turmoil? ) “disculpe, pero… the lounge has snacks? communal free food.” she offers with a shrug, “i like the yoghurts.” 

She wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t like he’d starve to death if he made an effort. Besides; his parents couldn’t ship him away then cut him off entirely. They knew him well enough to know he would raise a stink if they were that cruel. It was more annoying, not being able to buy what he wanted, when he wanted. “Do they at least have yogurt with fruit, or is it all that plain vanilla shit--- sorry,” he corrected, “stuff.”

[mirokos-blog]

I’m gonna reply to a few things but I’ve literally just gotten home, had dinner and showered and I have to be back at work in like ten hours so I need to get some sleep as soon as I can. Luckily next week my schedule is a lot better, so I should have time to do more than the bare minimum !!

[mirokos-blog]

So. flipping. tired. I don’t know if I can English anymore tonight. So I’m gonna go eat too much chocolate, maybe watch an episode of The Office, and try to get some sleep in before work. Love you guys. I’ll get to the rest of my drafts asap, promise.

[mirokos-blog]

akamatsuryoma‌: 

Ryoma let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto, practically kept on his toes waiting to find out whether he was just here being a nuisance or if this was okay because they were friends.

“Thank you,” he said in quiet relief, then wagered a smile at the mental image of sleeping on top of a pile of Miro’s clothes. “You saw me sleep on the hallway floor, so I don’t think a pile of cloth would be a downgrade,” he commented lightly with a small, amused tilt of his head.

He lowered his head once more in thanks as he allowed himself inside once the door was unlocked. He didn’t even have anything other than his phone on him at this point, since everything was still in his apartment. Really, how could he have been so stupid? he wondered. Now that he was up on his feet, the sleep was completely out of his system and he was already anticipating a sleepless night–ironic, taking into account how much he wanted to sleep throughout the day.

He listened to Miro talk as he glanced around the place, mentally comparing it to his own layout. He didn’t mind the state of it–his own had seen better days, though that had a little to do with the pile of stuffed animals he had from a few too many compulsive buys.

He made a face at the mention of vegetables. “Good, I wouldn’t eat them anyway,” he said easily, taking on a tone he typically only used around people he trusted. He liked to make his dislike towards them very clear so as to avoid a situation in which he feels forced to eat them. Junk food sounded appealing right now, but he didn’t want to be the only one indulging, so he said nothing and instead flopped down onto one of the couches, legs immediately tucked under his body. “If you’re hungry, we can order food. I’ll buy. Were you out having fun tonight?” he couldn’t help but ask. If Miro was tipsy, Ryoma was oblivious to it.

Miro always seemed to know how to have fun, at least from Ryoma’s perspective. The mischievous, slightly older kid had surprised Ryoma back when he was really small and they happened to meet at a Japan-Slovenia conference. Ryoma, who usually shied away from everyone and hid behind his brother, found himself enjoying someone else’s company instead (though his brother still kept a watchful eye on him). Despite a language barrier, they somehow got along back then. That was probably one of the only functions Ryoma hadn’t minded, as it resulted in this.

“Anytime,” Miro nodded --- and he meant that. He wasn’t the most selfless person alive; Hell, he wasn’t even close to the most selfless person in this building, but he would always be loyal to his friends. The few that he had left. He assumed if he ended up homeless for the night, Ryoma wouldn’t hesitate to give him a place to stay, and he wouldn’t think twice about asking. “It would be softer,” he agreed with a chuckle, attempting to shake off the low, or at least cover it better, though it probably wasn’t that noticeable.

“I should have spare blankets,” he added as an afterthought, only then realizing the lack of luggage. Of course he didn’t have bags in tow. The guy wasn’t planning on being locked out, after all. “And pillows. And a toothbrush, if you need it. I still have all kinds of things packed from... four months ago?” Had it really been four months since he’d left home? Miro tried to think back to the date. He couldn’t remember. It felt like it had been much longer. At the same time, it felt like he’d just arrived in Oslo, much less Dubai. He shook that off now, cracking a genuine smile at the vegetable comment. “I knew we were friends for a reason.”

Not that Miro hated vegetables. It would be hard to have gnocchi without potatoes, and that was one of his favorite foods. But you’d certainly never find him snacking on carrot sticks when anything else was an option.

“Sounds good,” Miro nodded, pouring himself a glass of the aforementioned apple juice, holding up a second glass in a silent offer --- thirsty? “I haven't eaten in hours. You don’t have to pay, though. I think my card’s working again. I thought it’d been cancelled for awhile, but I guess my parents fixed it.” They’d never returned his call. He’d worry something had happened to them, if there weren’t current pictures of them at meetings going around. He supposed they were simply too busy to check in on their son. A bitter thought he ignored. “Not so much,” he replied, letting out a soft sigh before coming to join him in the seating area. “There are too many rules around here; you know I’m not so fond of those.”

[mirokos-blog]

But I must admit it, that I would marry you in an instant Damn your wife, I’d be your mistress just to have you around

[mirokos-blog]

vstridb·: 

SHE WINKED AT HIM BEFORE GRINNING. “ but in all fairness i’m bad at reading international news. i’m sure hello! had a field trip with you two. italy’s media sexy. ” and it was the only positive feature about the modern version of the country. italy’s rich history came second to their latest actions in astrid’s book. “ that can’t be right. she’s that pretty brunette, right ? she looks pretty kind maybe you said something stupid and offended her. ”

“I do like being the center of attention,” Miro mused, a smirk covering the truth. He longed to be noticed, talked about. It was the best part of the engagement announcement --- the articles that followed. His name was everywhere. He wasn’t born to fly under the radar. “Kind? Pretty, yes, but kind?” He balked. Knowing very well it was his fault. He didn’t care to outwardly admit that. “We got off on the wrong foot.”

[mirokos-blog]

tywysoges-g·: 

“It would.” She replied definitively, making her way back to the couch once he sat down once more. “I know.” Gwen replied softly. Even if he wasn’t in love with her, she could still tell he cared. He’d made that clear enough. “We’re all fucked up. It’s part of the territory. I’m always here to talk. You know that.”

He appreciated her not denying it --- still, he shook his head in disagreement. “You don’t understand. I’m not cut out for this.” Miro placed his glass on the nearest piece of stable furniture, his head in his hands, trying to will away the headache he could already feel building now that his high from earlier was slipping between his fingers. He knew she was always there to talk, but he'd rather stay mute. “I’m not cut out for any of this.”

[mirokos-blog]

giorxcci·: 

“Oh, lovely,” Gio drawled through gritted teeth. “What a nonchalant answer.” There were times arguing with Miro felt like pulling teeth. There were others that felt more akin to lecturing a middle school boy. Gio wasn’t sure which he preferred. “Allow me to ask you this,” he rubbled at freshly shaved stubble, beginning crisply and clearly, “do you have no sense of decency? No regard for others? ‘Cause this isn’t just about you. It reflects poorly on me as well.” That was quite selfish to say. However, from Gio’s standpoint, Miro acted in a manner like he had nothing to lose when he truly did: respect. “I’ll be damned if you go out there and embarrass me.”

Miro didn’t reply. He felt like it was more of a rhetorical question, and if he answered, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Truthfully, he didn’t have much regard for others. The way his decisions mirrored them was not a concern until it was too late to take them back. “You sound just like my parents,” he commented; realizing that was probably just going to push the other man’s buttons, hurried to add to that. “I won’t embarrass you.” He wasn’t worried about how this was going to go, but most of that was because he knew he wouldn’t slip and say something that would land him in hot water. He could behave himself when it was important. “I can be quite charming when I have to be. I know what we’re selling here.”

[mirokos-blog]

akamatsuryoma‌: 

It was one of those moments that left him disoriented for a moment, not remembering where he was, what day it was, and what he’d been doing prior to passing out. It wasn’t the nudge of the shoe that woke him up, nor was it the jingle of the keys. Rather, the nudge caused his arm to slowly slide down his knee, which then resulted in his phone slipping out of his hand and onto his stomach, which gave him a start. He suddenly sat up, his back straightening, his head lifting up and tiredly looking around, eyes blinking to will the sleep away. His fingers wrapped around his phone to keep it from slipping to the floor and his other hand patted the front of his shirt, then the leg of his pants. Why was he on the floor again…?

“Ima nanji—” he began to ask in Japanese but cut himself off as he lifted his head to see who it was whose body was currently looming over his. For a moment he had actually thought he was still at the training center and his trainer had come to wake him up. He was usually good at staying alert through practice, considering the amount of focus and energy he had to exert there, but sometimes he still…

This wasn’t his trainer. He was definitely not at the training center. “Miro?” he asked sleepily, a yawn escaping him at the end of the name–he immediately covered his mouth with the back of his hand until it passed. “What time is it?” he asked again, in English this time, as he shifted his weight onto one knee before pushing himself up off the floor, a hand on the wall to steady himself. He wrecked his brain for what he’d been doing prior to passing out. His phone–he’d texted Miro… at some point. Because he’d locked himself out. Right.

He lifted his head to meet the Miro’s eyes, realizing that he never actually stated what he needed in the short text exchange–he wasn’t even sure if the other had ever replied, but his phone wasn’t blinking with a notification light. “I got locked out of my apartment,” he stated, to the point about it this time. “I was taking the trash out and…” Well, the details weren’t important, he decided halfway through his explanation. He wondered where Miro had been, but he realized that was probably none of his business at this point in time. Maybe he’d ask later, when he wouldn’t risk sounding accusatory about having had to wait for however long. “Can I…?” He gently bit down on his bottom lip from the nerves and gestured with his head towards Miro’s apartment, still exuding his shy nature no matter how many times they interacted. At times like these, he wished he could exude confidence and speak loudly, like most other people, but his voice remained soft and his expression demure, body exhibiting a sense of hesitation, at least until he would remember how to feel comfortable again in his friend’s presence. It always took him a moment to get there, always doubting, unsure whether they were still friends or if the last time they hung out or spoke was just meant for that one time. Deep down he knew that wasn’t the case, but his head still wouldn’t let him rest most of the time.

Miro nodded in response, confirming his identity. He understood the just-out-of-unconsciousness confusion. Some days he woke up, still, and forgot for a small chunk of time where he was and why he was there. He waited patiently for it to dawn on Ryoma, wondering himself what the explanation was. He didn’t ask, assuming it would come up on its own.  “Late,” was his immediate response, not knowing for sure. He didn’t even know what time it was when he’d arrived at the club or how long he’d stayed. Pulling his phone out, he tapped the screen on and turned it towards the other for him to read, eyebrows raised. The story came to an abrupt end, but he could put the pieces together. It wasn’t a difficult puzzle.

His gaze followed the motion, confused briefly, at what Ryoma was referring to. He wasn’t drunk, but he was tipsy, and his mind was elsewhere. It hit him once his eyes landed on his door. “Oh!” Turning back to his friend, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. You’re welcome to crash here.” He wasn’t expecting company tonight, but he wasn’t going to leave the poor guy sleeping in the hallway. Besides --- it had been awhile since they’d hung out. It was nice to see a familiar face, someone he could consider an actual friend, even if he was subconsciously isolating himself from everyone at the moment. It was a comfort. And it was better than spending another night awake and alone, staring at the ceiling. Knowing someone was in the other room would bring a peacefulness he’d been missing. “It’s a mess,” he went on, “but you won’t have to sleep on a pile of clothes or anything.”

Phone slid into his back pocket, he unlocked his own door and pushed it open, motioning for Ryoma to step inside. “Make yourself at home,” Miro offered. He wasn’t a good host, and he knew the apartment was not fit for guests --- but again, he hadn’t been expecting company. He flipped the light on. Surveyed the kitchen and living room area. Picked a candy bar wrapper up from the floor, balled it up and tossed it in the trash can. “There’s some food in the cabinets if you’re hungry, though it’s mostly junk. I think there’s just apple juice and milk in the refrigerator, and the milk is probably way past its expiration date, so I wouldn’t suggest drinking that... oh, I think there’s some hummus too, but I don’t have any vegetables...”

[mirokos-blog]

tywysoges-g·: 

“Yeah, yeah.” But she wouldn’t. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted to go. She needed him to stay. If only to know they’d make it through this. Part of her was ready to compartmentalize him like she’d done Vincent. After all, it’s all she could do when someone she loved didn’t love her back. Gwen reached out once more, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I have too. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself or get arrested because something got out of hand.”

Miro kept his feet planted, eyes searching her face. He doubted there was much chance of him getting arrested or injured --- he was feeling too tired now to do much other than crash. “If it’ll ease your mind,” he agreed reluctantly, not flinching from her touch this time. He wanted to leave. But he wanted to stay more. After a moment of hesitation, he reclaimed his seat on the couch, carefully picking up the glass of water he’d placed down at some point. He didn’t look at her as he lifted it to his lips. “I do love you, Gwen.” The words came out on their own, offering no explanation to what kind of love he was referring to. “I think --- I’m just fucked up.”

[mirokos-blog]

tywysoges-g·: 

“God… why is this so hard? They say it’s supposed to be easy. That you’re supposed to feel better once you tell the truth. And yet here I am… feeling as shitty as ever.” She went back to her couch, not really caring what happened and yet… she wanted him to stay. “Please, stay. I don’t want you to do anything stupid. You can take the bed and I can stay on the couch.” She was worried what trouble he’d find if he left now.

“I’ll forget about it in the morning,” he said, though he knew that was a bold faced lie. He hoped it would make her feel better, somehow. It was all he could offer. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, stayed in place. He felt so overwhelmed that all he wanted to do was run, but she was his voice of reason. Even now that she was part of the reason he felt the need to go. He let out a sound half between a laugh and a cough. “I already have.”

[mirokos-blog]

tywysoges-g·: 

She wasn’t sure what was running through his head but either way, she felt gutted. If she’d tried hard enough, maybe this all could’ve been avoided. “Don’t apologize. You can’t…. you can’t help how you feel.” Tears welled up as she tried to laugh it off, furiously rubbing at her eyes before turning away. “No, no. Don’t say that. They always say that.” At his comment, she paused, reaching out for him. “You really don’t.”

“It’s not how I feel,” he tried, but he couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t explain it sober, and he definitely couldn’t explain it now. She was on the verge of tears because of him, which made him feel even worse. When she reached out, he took a step back. All he wanted to do was pull her into a hug. But he couldn’t. He could hardly breathe. “I do,” he insisted, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I'm... I need to go. I can’t do this.”

[mirokos-blog]

tywysoges-g·: 

Perhaps he couldn’t see what she could. That it wasn’t until he was no longer single that she truly realized how she felt. Why couldn’t she have realized this sooner? Before he was engaged and it seemed she too would soon be taking on more responsibility? Even better, why couldn’t she just not feel it at all. “I don’t think you realize it. Convenient because we’re best friends and have been for ages. No one questions when you spend the night or if we’re together.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t fucking matter. You’re engaged and I’m a mess.”

Luciana had warned him not to hurt her. He hadn’t realized how easy it would be. Guilt and regret began to creep up -- he shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place, shouldn’t have admitted he wanted to do it again. He shouldn’t have came here tonight. He shouldn’t be here at all. Maybe he could convince his parents to let him come back home, cancel his engagement, maybe he could run from all of it. “I’m sorry. I’m... I’m sorry.” The apology wasn’t enough. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for...” Any of this. He trailed off, brought his hands back to his face. “I’m sorry. I need a drink.”

[mirokos-blog]

tywysoges-g·: 

“That’s not how feelings work, Miro.” She scoffed, looking up at the ceiling before leaning back. “Then what do you want to do? Kiss me because it’s convenient? Because no matter what I’ll be there for you?” It was hurtful, what she was saying but she was tired and he was drunk. “No one ever does. I’d rather you just be honest. I’m a tough girl.” Even if it felt like she was anything but.

He knew she was right. Still, he couldn’t understand it. When it came to him, she should be able to just shut it down. She knew him better than anyone --- how many flaws he had, how bad he was at being selfless and committed. “Convenient?” He repeated, his eyebrows pulling together, genuinely confused now. “It was the least convenient thing I could’ve done. You do realize that? All it did was create this big fucking mess that I’m just... just sinking in. How the hell was that convenient for either of us?”