ofmerrit

[ofmerrit]

Sylvia Plath, from “Lady Lazarus”, Ariel (1965)

[ofmerrit]

Nikki Giovanni, from “Introspection”

[ofmerrit]

leoharlowe​

if leo knew how much she was a people pleaser, he probably would’ve fought harder against his father. he tried his best not to interrupt merrit as she spoke, but all he wanted to do was tell her to shut up and ask if she truly believed this is all she could do to please her own family. did she really think she had to be in an arranged possible marriage with someone in order to make her grandparents happy? if so, he had a few choice words for the amount of pressure they were putting her through. sure, his parents were similar, but he wasn’t afraid to get in his father’s face and fight against it ( of course not winning the arguments ). the deal was utter bullshit. leonardo didn’t even know what she wanted. it was upsetting how she wasn’t agreeing with him, instead acting as though everything was fine and would be fine if he just bit his tongue. merrit had a lot to learn when it came to leonardo and his thought process. “i don’t need anything from you,” he snapped in a voice low enough for only her to hear. he glanced over his shoulder in order to see if anyone was coming their way. “i want you to stop being a pushover. why should i pretend with someone whose only desire in life is the please others? it’s pathetic, really, mer.” the side of him that he showed everyone was starting to appear, but it was for good reason. if he was going to be stuck with merrit, she ought to see this side sooner rather than later. call it being stubborn or just an asshole, he didn’t care. his face lowered so it was closer to hers and his voice turned into a whisper, “you will never be my girl, merrit hornsby. trust me on that.” his hand stayed, although he wanted to rip it away from her grasp. his father could’ve chosen any other girl at this school and he chose one that was a complete doormat, it seemed. leo wanted to grab her shoulders and shake that smile away. god, that smile. it killed him how she was able to hide behind it and act like things between them were perfect or she didn’t take to heart anything he was saying. but he loved it at the same time. taking a breath through his nose, leo’s head nodded and put on a forced toothless grin. “yeah, i’ll pay.“

       a vacant expression remains on her features as she absent-mindedly listens to him. selective amnesia and blocking unnecessary voices; two of her favourite abilities, finally coming in hand with the arranged marriage situation. a scoff sits on the tip of her tongue, eagerly waiting to swim out of her lips with his ‘i don’t need you’, silently cussing at herself for being so wrong about him. did she really think this would be easy? blame her two brain cells, she indeed did — or maybe it’s the utmost respect and trust she bears for the patriarch. mr hornsby never signs off worthless deals, she thinks, the same way he always manages to create the most stressful environment for merrit to inhabit. “but you obviously do,” states the brunette with a flat, emotionless voice, complimenting the taut smile she wears. unfortunately for the male, merrit doesn’t care what he thinks about her — a pushover, a doormat, a people pleaser; all seemingly ugly labels she nonchalantly pins to her chest like a navy officer with their awards. it’s not that he, as a person, doesn’t matter to her, no, it transcends beyond her stupid little heart and emotions, it’s the fact she is a realist before anything else. “if you find this intolerable, please, go ahead and run to your father. tell him about how much you despise me because i want to honour their arrangement. tell him i’m ready to do anything to please them and you at the same time but you’re too much of a spoiled brat to understand that.” the austere words radiate past her mona lisa smile, which may puzzle any uninvited observer with merrit’s true intentions. she regrets the last part, it’s not like her to let emotions get the best of her. this harlowe boy, he’s really doing something to her. “you can leave now, and probably make it before my last class. we would still have time to hang out.” she’s adamant on keeping the porcelain mask on, though a part of her wonders why she’s not crying right now; pathetic, he calls her. should hurt, right? and it ironically does, enough to let the waterfalls wash her smooth cheeks, but there’s no sight of them. it’s been years since she last cried, merrit remembers vaguely. another trauma sign she may unpack later, just not in front of him. “it doesn’t matter.” she whispers with clenched teeth, the regret of her soft, idiotic feelings for the male washing over her. “we can meet weekly, to tour the quad together. just don’t hook-up with people in public. no need to raise suspicion.” merrit has no idea what’s going on with his romantic life, and certainly, it’s not her business, so it’s safe to warn him and not regret later. though she doubts any girl would be foolish like her, falling for his charm and sweet gestures, only to realise he’s no different than the rest of the students here. still, it hurts to hold his hand, act like nothing’s happened, like his words don’t scrape off her silky skin. “aw, thank you.” the brunette hums, quietly walking towards the cafe, freeing her hand from the inconvenient touch.  “and i will pay for your drink, equality and all that. hm, call it a reverse ‘going dutch’.”

[ofmerrit]

[ofmerrit]

leoharlowe​

brows furrowing at merrit’s continuation of the how i met your mother talk, leo nodded slowly. hid head moved a little too slowly, only due to the fact that he didn’t understand anything that was coming from her mouth. “the queen was the best,” leo stated. he hoped it would end there since he didn’t feel like explaining himself if he was caught lying. he knew merrit was too smart for his lies and didn’t want to make it a habit around her like he did so many people. with the feeling of her hand engaged with his, leo could feel himself getting a little nervous. it was rare for him to be seen around campus this close with a girl. not even his other girlfriends ( which his parents seemed to hate, unbeknownst to him ) got this side of him. he preferred to lay low, but ever since this arranged situation came up, he felt he needed to show they were a couple. he thought of her words but ended up giving her a shrug in response. the one thing leonardo wasn’t fond of was photos — especially if it consisted of him and the person he was involved with. but… they weren’t technically involved, so did it really matter as much as he was making it out to be? “she wouldn’t hate it,” he finally said. gift giving was something he sucked at. the only real reason he sent flowers to his mother every week was because he doesn’t know what materialistic things she’d be fond of. bad son alert. “she’d love whatever you send her, honestly. but the photos thing…” dark hues glanced down at the shorter one, secretly not wanting to be involved with the whole picture taking. “your grandma’s gonna hate those when she realizes this whole thing isn’t real, you know. i know we’re already deceiving them by doing… this,” his free hand moved between their bodies, “but she’s old. and i’m not going to send a picture of us if it means they’ll force it even more.” as if acting in public and around their families wasn’t worse than sending a harmless photo to someone. “once your grandparents are gone or whatever, we can stop pretending.” after that comment, he immediately caught his breath. it wasn’t meant to come off as insensitive, but he knew it was wrong to say out loud. and to merrit of all people.

              a coy glint enters her ocean orbs with his continuation of the tv talk, deciding it’s not fair to press him further. what she feels for the young harlowe boy is almost indescribable, something that transcends the duty she’s crowned with... something beyond softness and gratitude? she cannot tell. they walk in empty halls, hand in hand, a proud smile ready to envelop her features if they encounter a friend. she doesn’t mind it, really, playing a part, being his girl — it’s no different from her daily life anyway. “yay, i knew she would like it,” she choruses, pace fastening with excitement. a balanced combination of her grandmother’s love and grandfather’s toughness, she’s made out of the most exquisite clay, specifically moulded to meet their needs. still she wants to take a part of the credit, for enduring it, enduring all of it that she now calls her upbringing without a flinch. sharp but dainty nose crinkle when she feels his gaze on her, stomach making a nosedive as an unsettling feeling creeps into her systems. she listens, a plastered smile still gracing her pale face. “don’t interrupt me again,” grandfather warns her, “people like us are born with grace and decorum, never forget it.” merrit’s mouth twitching from the phony grin, she resists the urge to scream and shout like a three-year-old throwing a tantrum, back to grinding her teeth as she did in high school. her grip on his hand loosening, she attempts to move it over her head to be released, aligning her body right in front of him, giving no space to walk away. “i don’t understand why you’re being this way, leo,” she mutters, head tilting to check for any hidden figures in her peripherals. people do fight, just not them — not the young, elated couple, merrit and leonardo. his words still playing in the back of her mind, stinging like thorns, her expression grows distant. unfamiliar. “you don’t have to like me. i may not be the girl of your dreams and i know i may never please you but,” eyes study him for a second, hoping he understands the wreckage she’s trapped under “it’s what our families need. your father and my grandfather made a deal, and we are to honour them for two more years. you may want to talk to your father after graduation, but until then this is happening.” she finally takes a deep breath and drops her shoulders, voice lowering. “i will do anything to make my grandmother happy and she is not going anywhere any time soon.” apples of cheeks perking with a gentle smile, merrit reaches for the hand she’s just let go, fingers ghostly dancing across his skin. “i will make it easy for you, i swear. whatever you need and want, i will be there to help you.” there you go, she wishes to say, here’s your wife to be. the lady macbeth, minus the guilt, to your king. “now let’s forget about the photo thing if it makes you this upset, i will photoshop something for grandma later. no worries.” meekly taking her place next to him again, a beaming smile tugs at the corner of her cherry lips. “do you want to get coffee first? i’m craving an iced-americano.” 

[ofmerrit]

Margaret Atwood, Selected Poems: 1965-1975

[ofmerrit]

diomandetm​

                𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒔  𝒂  𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆  𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆  𝒊𝒏  𝒂  𝒃𝒆𝒅  𝒐𝒇  𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔  ,  and  with  every  fibre  of  his  being  ,  he  wishes  he  felt  nothing  for  the  delicate  ,  little  flower  .  nothing  beyond  friendship  ,  simply  the  person  he  could  call  when  he  found  himself  in  a  spot  of  trouble  ,  no  strings  attached  .  it’s  true  that  he  puts  her  on  a  pedestal  ,  too  dainty  and  perfect  for  the  likes  of  him  .  he  hears  the  whispers  ,  though  mostly  from  his  own  head  ,  asking  why  she  was  with  him  ,  and  reminding  him  that  he’ll  never  be  good  enough  .  perhaps  there’s  truth  in  the  fact  that  he  doesn’t  want  her  to  fall  into  his  habits  .  if  she  did  ,  maybe  then  he’d  have  a  chance  ,  but  he’d  only  break  her  heart  .  “  no  you  don’t  .  don’t  ever  say  that  again  …  please  ,  ”  a  hint  of  desperation  in  his  voice  ,  he  unfurrows  his  brows  ;  not  his  intent  to  sound  so  harsh  .  hedonism  characterises  romeo  ,  indulgent  to  the  highest  degree  ,  but  there’s  a  level  of  shame  ,  the  look  in  her  eyes  and  the  disappointment  in  her  voice  ,  every  time  they  wake  up  like  this  .  he  never  wants  her  to  be  subjected  to  that  feeling  .  relief  washes  over  him  ,  but  not  as  much  as  he  would  have  liked  .  there’s  still  a  possibility  that  she  was  witness  to  it  ,  she’d  just  rather  forget  .  “  good  ,  yeah  ,  i’m  glad  you  didn’t  have  to  see  me  that  way  ,  ”  he  murmurs  ,  the  latter  of  his  words  much  more  legible  ,  as  if  he  was  momentarily  struggling  with  what  to  say  .  despite  last  nights  actions  ,  he  isn’t  a  violent  person  ,  and  the  fights  aren’t  a  regular  occurrence  ,  though  they  happen  nonetheless  .  it’s  always  his  mouth  that  gets  him  into  trouble  ,  not  his  fists  ,  so  he  doesn’t  doubt  that  the  other  threw  the  first  punch  ;  he  simply  finished  it  .  eyes  that  stare  up  towards  the  ceiling  flutter  down  to  meet  a  brimming  smile  ,  and  one  tugs  at  his  own  lips  ,  her’s  much  too  contagious  .  it  seems  genuine  ,  or  at  least  he  hopes  it  is  .  that’s  the  thing  about  merrit  ,  he  can  never  gage  how  she  truly  feels  ,  everything  appearing  all  good  all  the  time  .  the  pet  name  ,  that  she  so  commonly  calls  him  ,  mixed  with  her  words  makes  him  smile  ,  followed  by  a  chortle  .  “  you  really  like  playing  nurse  for  me  ,  don’t  you  ?  ”  there’s  a  certain  look  on  his  face  ,  in  his  eyes  ,  smirking  in  a  way  that  one  didn’t  as  just  friends  .  there  was  a  euphemism  in  their  somewhere  ,  one  that  would  no  doubt  make  her  blush  ,  and  that  was  kind  of  the  point  .  her  faint  ‘  yes  ’  is  soft  ,  soothingly  smooth  ,  and  causes  his  eyes  to  close  .  so  ,  the  way  pillowly  lips  glide  over  his  knuckles  ,  softly  peppering  over  the  skin  ,  takes  him  by  surprise  .  his  eyes  flitter  open  ,  and  he  catches  her  in  the  act  ,  not  that  she  is  doing  anything  wrong  .  not  in  his  opinion  ,  at  least  .  her  grandparents  ,  however  ,  are  another  issue  .  he’s  fighting  the  urge  to  kiss  her  ,  after  all  she  had  just  said  that  she  wanted  to  make  a  few  mistakes  ,  but  that  wouldn’t  be  her’s  to  make  ,  not  if  he  stole  the  opportunity  from  her  .  who  said  she  even  wants  to  ?  “  not  as  much  as  i  want  something  else  .  ” 

       brows  crease  with  his  objection,  words  swimming  out  lips  in  a  plea  like  manner  and  she  struggles  to  understand  him.  a  greek  god  incarnated,  she  sees  romeo  for  who  he  is  —  the  bloody  knuckles  and  witty  tongue,  all  fade  into  the  background.  it’s  the  softness  in  his  voice  that  makes  her  heart  burn,  in  the  most  beautiful  way  possible,  and  she  wants  to  tell  him,  tell  him  he’s  perfect,  that   there’s  nothing  wrong  with  him.  mouth  opens,  though  only  a  simple  “stop,”  rolls  off  her  tongue.  a  hypocrite,  that’s  who  she  is.  she  has  been  trying  to  change  him  ever  since  their  first  encounter,  right?  then  where  is  this  uncontrollable  desire  coming  from?  “you’re  being  too  hard  on  yourself.”  she  mutters.  perhaps  he  doesn’t  need  her  reassurance,  after  all,  she’s  simply  a  planet  to  his  sun,  bound  to  disappear  in  a  sea  of  bodies  ever  so  lucky  to  end  up  next  to  him.  his  question  ends  up  pulling  her  out  of  the  inner  monologue  bordering  on  a  classic  vacuum  of  inferiority  complex,  “i...”  merrit  stutters,  apples  of  her  cheeks  painted  in  a  rosy  shade,  her  ocean  orbs  on  his  own,  a  bold  attempt  to  the  scatter  the  fog  created  by  her  mirth,  mixed  with  delicacy.  “playing  nurse,  uh,”  free  hand  awkwardly  rubbing  her  temple,  a  slow-growing  smile  graces  her  lips.  the  brunette  no  longer  sees  the  point  in  putting  up  a  façade,  not  when  even  the  complacent  tone  of  his  voice  has  a  soothing  effect  on  her.  “yeah,  i  guess  i  do.”  she  seems  to  purely  be  levitating  next  to  him;  mind  devoid  of  responsibilities  and   the  things  that  keep  her  awake  at  nights;  her  grandparents,  the  fact  she’s  to  wed  his  friend  after  college,  that  she  no  longer  recognises  the  reflection  in  the  mirror.  all  because,  unbeknownst  to  him,  she’s  tasted  the  pomegranate  seeds,  because  she  has  no  choice  but  to  live  with  the  ardent  fires  he’s  set  in  her,  waiting  for  the  inevitable  exposition.  no,  merrit  doesn’t  blame  him;  it’s  her own  stupidity  for  feeling  this  way  about  the  male,  practically  imploring  to  be  punished  for  asking  for  more  than  she’s  ever  deserved.  icarus,  flying  too  close  to  sun  to  his  demise  suddenly  begins  to  make  sense.  the  awkward  tension  from  her  unexpected  burst  of  affection  dying  down,  she  moves  closer,  fingers  fiddling  with  the  collar  of  his  shirt,  almond  nails  barely  brushing  against  the  smooth  skin.  “and  what  is  that?”  stilted,  merrit  swallows  roughly,  hoping  it’s  enough  to  keep  the  butterflies  inhabiting  her  chest  from  breaking  free  as  her  gaze  lingers  on  his  lips  a  little  longer  than  she  intends  to.   “tell  me,  please.”

[ofmerrit]

izzydupont​

every thing about merrit reminded isabella of everything good she cultivated during their childhood. sometimes when she looked at her best friend and could almost feel her pain of not remembering a lot of things, izzy wished she could share her own memories with her. although she felt the warmth of caring about merrit, she couldn’t put into words that would make justice to how loving it was. additionally, two people don’t experience the same moment in the exact same way. perhaps merrit’s own memories could be different from what isabella had in mind, and having lost them truly made them irreplaceable. instead of dwelling on the past, isabella feigned surprise at the response. “no evil rival hunting you down? i must say i’m surprised.” which was clearly a lie. it was hard to imagine anyone having anything bad to say or feel towards merrit – and if they did, isabella would make sure her friend would never have to face it. “it would be easier for me to make a list of people who like me, mon mignon. i don’t deem anyone worthy of being smothered by your hugs and love. they will have to live another day alone and empty inside, i guess.” a small smile graced her lips as she patted the bed next to her, urging the girl to join her. isabella let her arms go, flopping down on the mattress as she stared at the ceiling. “i have to pressure you would tell me if any freshmen bothered you or if things just got to much. you would, right?”

     the blonde’s existence manages to bring out the best and simultaneously, the worst in the young hornsby; a method acting job’s gone for too long, merrit no longer can detect where she ends and her past begins, especially around isabella. her perseverance, the efforts to keep the friendship alive throughout the years, feeds the baneful guilt trapped inside her chest, the friendship gradually becoming a form of torture. “just my own demons,” the brunette shrugs, “you know how hard it is to be a perfectionist.” i wish we didn’t, she wants to say, guessing both the girls are fighting a losing battle — who do they think they are, striving for perfection? maybe she’s wrong about her friend ( she can never tell with isabella, a part of her is always eclipsed ), and that thought brings comfort. she prefers the loneliness over the blonde’s company in misery, heart leaking with affection. classic merrit, ashamed to take, always giving, like her favourite diarist says, mistaking it for virtue. “i love you, and i know bex does too. we have all we need, just the three of us. the rest can kindly fuck off.” a weary smile tugs at the corner of wide mouth, head full with the seemingly insignificant compliment she pays. weird how people, including the those closest to her, think so highly of her when she feels like a deceiver, a serpent, unworthy of their love. merrit mimics her, slumping against the bed in a way her grandmother would strongly disapprove. that’s not a lady like behaviour, antonietta, my dear, she would have said. “even the freshmen know i’m friends with you, izzy.” she chirps, mouth twisting into a smirk “they know i’m off limits. no one dares to disrespect the queen. trust me.” ocean orbs studies her side profile, a gentle smile tugging at her lips “and you? i need you to be honest with me, completely. i am tougher than i look and you can tell me anything and everything. how are you feeling? being back here? the classes? talk to me.”

[ofmerrit]

leoharlowe​

“ripping out pages is what helps your craft,” leonardo sounded. at least, to him, anyway. the more frustration, the better the outcome a piece of work could end up being. “i used to scribble out most of my annotations before i really figured out what worked for me. if glittery pens helps you, i think that’s all that matters.” he was supportive of her decision, even if it seemed silly to her. the nonstop rambles from the girl’s lips couldn’t help but amuse him. in all honesty, leo wasn’t looking for a whole story to his question, but part of him was glad he got one. as much as leonardo wanted to tune her out and act like he was faking interest, merrit’s voice introduced a new feeling and sense of desire he’d never felt before. a sense of desire to hear more of what she was saying and how her voice sounded, yet he couldn’t describe why that was. never had he been this invested in an unnecessarily long response, either from his mother or a girl he was actually dating. his throat cleared as his head nodded; brown curls lightly falling with each movement. “oh, yeah, that show. it’s great,” leo lied. he’d heard about the show, but never gave it a chance since it looked boring. but if mer was interested in it, he wanted to check it out and have something to connect with her on. possibly even read more into architecture. “i… god, i love the plot. really. can’t get enough of it.” it was difficult to lie to her for some reason. he had no idea what the show was about, let alone who the fuck ted mosby was. his hand tightened its grip on the smaller one once he felt the pace fasten. yeah, it was weird between them right now, but what else should they expect? pulling her back a tiny bit and getting closer to her, leo let his grip loose and put an arm around her shoulders. the male’s eyes lowered to look at the brunette, a reassuring smile on his face in hopes it’d make her feel a little more comfortable. “now, why would i want someone interrupting my time with you?” and without thinking, leo pressed his lips ontop of her head in a quick kiss before pausing and replaying what he had just done. after a moment of silence from him, he looked at the view in front of them, immediately cursing at himself in his mind. what the fuck did you just do? “i mean, unless you want more company?”

       “only if you can actually go on without ripping out everything, i can’t.” mind crawls back to the memory of her first assessment, how she almost went through a sketchbook while trying to decide on a damn outline. fingers blistered, papers rubbed with eraser, broken beyond repair. perfection goes hand in hand with dissatisfaction, her grandpa preaches, you have no choice but to be better if you are always feeling so. easier said than done, merrit can tell you that much. “thank you.” she doesn’t expect him to understand, but it’s the effort that matters.. or he just doesn’t care enough about her to continue, which sounds more appropriate for their situation. shoulders drop with the thought of him not giving a single heck, and yet again, a beaming smile envelops her expression, though a crease quickly finds the space between her brows with his overenthusiastic comment. can’t get enough of it? it’s binge-worthy, at best, but nothing too great. “i especially love the alien invasion episode, what do you say? and ted’s love story with the queen x-12... poetic.” lips pursing together, she tries to contain her laughter, a fuzzy feeling spreading over her senses. he cares, enough to resort to a while lie. his arm, around her shoulder and she peeks at him, head instinctively tilting to close the gap. a gentleness she’s not felt in perhaps years puzzles her, his question replaying faintly like an echo. an uncharacteristic silence follows the unexpected yet delicate kiss that only lasts for seconds, though not in her mind, there, it’s imprinted — something she will continue thinking about for longer than she’d be happy to admit. still blinking rapidly, cheeks flushed, she bends her arm to hold his hand, fingers meekly resting atop his. “no, i like spending time with you. alone. it’s nice, as long as you...enjoy it too.” dimples rouse with a girly smile, looking up though lashes “so... i think grandma would love it if i mailed her photos of us. she was chatting about the antique frame she bought at auction and said some stuff about you.. and us, and i thought it would be cute. maybe i can get a similar one online and ship to mrs. harlowe? would she like it?”

[ofmerrit]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔𝒃𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒈𝒆

the 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑐𝘩 — grandfather friedrich robert hornsby , 79 , donald sutherland . the 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 — aunt cornelia austen hornsby , 22 ( deceased ) , lauren german . the 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑐𝘩 — grandmother irénée antonietta ( nee du pont ) hornsby , 77 , michelle fairley . the 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛 — mother alma sixtine ( nee astor ) hornsby , 41 ( presumed dead ) , amanda beet . the 𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 — father percival leon hornsby , 43 ( presumed dead ) , jason bateman . the 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝘩𝑖𝑙𝑑 — older sister austen elspeth hornsby , 7 ( deceased ) , darcy rose byrnes . the 𝑝𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑡 — merrit antionetta hornsby , 22 , kristine froseth .

[ofmerrit]

diomandetm​

                𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕  𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒉𝒆  𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔  𝒊𝒔  𝒇𝒐𝒓  𝒉𝒆𝒓  𝒕𝒐  𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒆  𝒉𝒊𝒎  ,  to  see  an  element  of  beauty  in  the  late  night  calls  ,  an  indicator  that  he  doesn’t  want  anyone  else  ,  in  his  most  vulnerable  of  states  .  but  he  does  himself  no  favours  ,  not  with  how  their  bodies  perfectly  intertwine  ,  fitting  into  the  curves  of  each  other  like  two  jigsaw  pieces  ;  a  complicated  puzzle  indeed  .  he  can’t  help  the  little  touches  ,  fingers  finding  excuses  to  brush  against  the  softness  of  her  skin  ,  seemingly  innocent  ,  without  pre  empt  .  “  you  don’t  ,  ”  he  rebuts  ,  with  nothing  else  to  add  .  she’s  the  epitome  of  perfection  ,  the  ideal  daughter  ,  wife  ,  and  mother  ,  in  the  eyes  of  anyone  who  sees  her  .  perhaps  if  his  reputation  was  better  ,  the  hornsby’s  would  have  considered  him  a  suitor  ,  deemed  good  enough  for  their  darling  daughter  .  but  even  he  knows  he  is  not  ,  undeserving  of  her  time  and  affection  .  “  you  missed  that  part  then  ,  i  assume  ,  ”  part  of  him  is  glad  that  she  didn’t  —  scratch  that  ,  all  of  him  is  .  though  ,  he’s  almost  positive  she’s  witnessed  one  or  two  of  his  physical  altercations  in  the  past  .  at  the  sight  of  flushed  cheeks  ,  a  smile  becomes  dangerously  close  to  contorting  his  lips  ,  but  he  fights  it  .  “  i  don’t  think  i  would  have  ended  up  in  my  own  bed  ,  or  at  least  ,  not  alone  .  i’m  glad  it  was  you  ,  ”  already  he  wishes  he  could  take  back  his  words  ,  ‘  at  least  ,  not  alone  ’  ringing  in  his  ears  .  of  course  ,  she  would  be  aware  of  his  extensive  list  of  conquests  ,  but  it  didn’t  mean  they  had  to  acknowledge  it  .  he’s  only  ashamed  of  it  when  it  comes  to  her  .  but  when  she  pinches  his  thumb  ,  all  negative  thoughts  flee  from  his  mind  .  “  you  don’t  have  to  do  that  .  i  know  where  you  keep  the  bandages  ,  i  can  do  it  myself  ,  ”  he  doesn’t  mean  to  sound  ungrateful  ,  despite  his  lack  of  a  thank  you  ,  he  just  doesn’t  want  to  put  her  out  any  more  .  however  ,  his  demeanour  suddenly  changes  ,  after  she  stumbles  over  her  words  ,  a  grin  having  prominence  over  his  lips  .  “  i  think  the  state  of  my  fists  will  make  sure  of  that  ,  ”  so  she  didn’t  need  to  worry  this  week  ,  not  until  the  next  .  “  can  i  just  lie  with  you  a  little  while  longer  ?  ”  

         “and  that’s  my  fault,”  she  admits.  “i  am  always  cautious,  making  sure  everything  goes  according  to  plan.  no  room  for  evolving,  learning  from  mistakes.  i  just..  exist.  that’s  not  living.  i  wish  i  was  more  like  you.”  words  leave  her  mouth  faster  than  pea  brain  can  comprehend,  wrecking  the  mental  walls  she’s  built  around  her  insecurities  with  every  syllable  laced  with  candour.  it’s  an  instant  wave  of  regret  that  almost  drowns  her,  he  likes  her  as  the  perfect  girl-next-door  and  stripping  off  feels  stupid,  giving  him  a  solid  reason  to  leave  her.  “i  don’t  know,  perhaps  i  didn’t  miss  it,”  she  mutters,  “i  don’t  remember,  thank  the  sweet  selective  amnesia.”  oh.  she  feels  the  porcelain  mask  cracking  as  her  smile  withers,  unable  to  control  the  pursing  of  her  lips.  it  shouldn’t  come  as  a  surprise,  not  when  the  three  sisters  of  fate  have  already  planned  her  future.  what  she  has  with  him  is  a  knot  that  one  day,  as  dreadful  as  it  is,  will  come  undone.  you’re  mature  for  your  age,  grandma’s  socialite  friends  tell  her  —  not  mature,  only  realistic;  she’s  aware  of  her  place  in  life,  that  she  shouldn’t  ask  for  more  than  she  deserves  and  oh  boy,  he  is  off  limits,  it’s  a  fact.  “i’m  glad.”  is  all  she  can  muster  up,  mouth  twitching  with  the  forced  smile  she  flashes.  the  vivid  memories  of  him  entertaining  other  girls  remain  locked  in  a  box,  buried  deep  in  her  subconsciousness,  only  to  be  remembered  when  she  wants  to  add  fuel  to  the  fire,  pouring  salt  into  her  own  wounds  like  a  masochist.  fingers  still  wrapped  around  his  thumb,  she  resists  the  urge  to  roll  her  eyes,  voice  dissolving  into  a  soft  laugh.  “that’s  the  thing,  romy,  you  can  do  it  yourself  but  you  don’t  have  to,  not  when  i’m  still  around.”  to  be  honest,  the  selfish  part  of  her  knows  patching  him  up  is  a  safe  way  to  keep  him  around,  and  the  other?  well,  she’s  not  exactly  confident  in  his  medical  skills.  her  oceanic  hues  remain  on  him  as  he  speaks,  not  straying  even  for  a  second,  letting  the  millions  of  tiny  fireflies  flap  around  in  her  stomach.  the  filter  between  her  brain  and  body  seem  to  dissolve  with  his  question,  gently  pulling  his  hand  towards  her  face,  close  enough  for  him  to  possibly  feel  her  breath  on  his  knuckles.  “yes,”  she  quietly  hums,  lips  brush  against  the  battered  skin,  painting  a  trail  of  chaste  kisses.  a  mistake  —  one  she  knows  but  does  anyway.  didn’t  she  just  ask  for  it?  to  be  more reckless  and  make  mistakes?  next  time,  she  can  hear  the  genie,  be  careful  what  you  wish  for.  swiftly  moving  his  hand  back  to  near  his  torso,  merrit  hides  hers  under  her  chin,  body  awkwardly  wiggling  to  give  him  the  obviously  needed  space.  “sure,  if  you  still  want  to.”

[ofmerrit]

[ofmerrit]

leoharlowe​

a slight, subtle grin couldn’t help but form on his face at the sight of her stuffing glitter pens into her bag. of course, what else should he expect? there wasn’t much he knew about her, but the choice of pens didn’t seem surprise him at all. it only reinforced the idea that she was too sweet — innocent, even — for her own good. something that he hoped wouldn’t fade away the longer she spent with or around him. it was actually quite difficult to remove the upturn of his lips, which was a new thing for leonardo, yet one he ended up enjoying. sure, he had relationships with other girls, but something about merrit was different. god, what was he feeling? “i started into the wild last night,” he responded without hesitation. the book was so fresh in his mind that he could go on for at least an hour about the little details he picked up from it. pen inked on and filled up each page he turned. the brunet stayed up all night reading most of it, but still wasn’t going to bore merrit with it. his dark brown eyes glanced down at the gesture she made but returned in front of him; his brain and heart pulling at decisions to quickly be made. leonardo knew he had to play the part, but it was too weird to truly believe what was happening. the pressure to be perfect with someone he didn’t want to be vulnerable with — how was this thing ever going to succeed? if they were to end up married or whatever his family desired from him, how would that occur if he couldn’t show her the side he rarely showed anyone? fingers laced with hers after a second, and the feeling of her touch comforted him more than he ever imagined it would. “you should let me borrow those pens one day. i’ve never used glitter pens for annotating.” a shoulder raised in a half-shrug, wanting to talk more about her than him. “but what about you? uh, anything new happening?”

      she nods, making a mental note of the book that has managed to capture his attention only to faintly remember the film with the same title. he doesn’t strike her as a ‘film over book’ kind of guy, so it’s best to keep quiet — maybe she can read it, god knows she has all the time in the world with the no sleep life style she has. a pathetic attempt to impress the young harlowe. grandfather would be proud of her efforts, at least she likes to think so, he probably couldn’t care less. leo’s decision to hold her hand catches merrit off guard, making her feel like she’s some sort of volunteer for the dunk tank game, anxiously waiting for the dexterous boy to sink her in the cold water and he indeed manages to hit the bullseye with the interlaced fingers. ironic she feels this way when she initiated it; the impulse to please him, to play the role of the perfect girlfriend overtake her senses, merely a robot, acting according to its codes written by their families. the brunette doesn’t want him to know how this arrangement suits her, delighted with the tailored dress, sewed into her skin — that pain is nothing compared to the one she would be facing in a case of hornsby’s discontentment. giving him a gentle squeeze, merrit deepens their hold, thumb aimlessly drawing small circles against his tendon. “deal,” she muses, cheeks plump with a beaming smile from his idea. “i like to use them for sketching, i know, it makes no sense but... looks pretty, i guess. they even make the errors look better, so i don’t rip the pages in frustration. so far it’s working.” the image of leonardo annotating with her glitter pens widens her grin; his umber hues squinting with utmost diligence, ruddy lips pursed together and his stray curl begging to be pushed back send tingling sensations over her chest, a ‘sipping camomile tea in a january night’ type of warmth. “um, nothing much. i’m done with the history of architecture course for today. it’s interesting, really. my instructor is nothing like ted mosby, but it’s nice. have you seen the show? how i met your mother? not exactly my favourite but i’ve been rewatching for the architect representation. i don’t know, leo, i’m happy to be back. i missed the garden, the sleepless nights, touring for inspiration and losing my way like a freshman fool. call me a dork but i do enjoy school more than i enjoy most things in life. the rules and regulations, projects, glitter pen sketches... keep my mind occupied, better than a blank canvas, i guess. plus... i have you guys here, right next to me. izzy, bex, romy... only a two minute walk, then voila, i’m in their rooms. isn’t that great? you could say there’s nothing really new happening, but i like it the way it is. my home. anyway,” she trails off, momentarily gazing at him to make sure he’s still present, not bored to death with the nonsense coming from her mouth. why do i care, is the million dolar question, but it demands to be answered another time, preferably while watching the sun rise from her bedroom window. “uhm, yeah. how i met your mother, so.. you a fan?” awkward tension etched to every syllable, she fastens her pace to avoid the face she expects him to pull, the type where he goes ‘what the hell is she talking about?’, not that she’s seen it on him before, it’s just a guess. “if you want we can invite people to hang with us. i don’t want you to feel forced,” a tired smile pulls at her lips and she shrugs “to be alone with me, you know? you don’t have to, it’s like totally okay.”

[ofmerrit]

        merrit often finds herself repeating  ‘my life is perfect.’  like a mantra, as if the lie would somehow take pity on her. she no longer feels guilty for the fact it comes so easy to her, to live according to others’ rules, a puppet in love with the strings that keep her afloat. now it’s sort of a disappointment that she feels. of course there’s no resistance when grandfather tells her about him, the almost-stranger she should be marrying. ‘for our sake’ he says, ‘and yours.’ under different circumstances, it may sound identical to the pleas of a controlling yet doting parental figure and nothing else, but the sharp taste of his threat, that merrit can feel in her bones like she’s being poked by thousands of tiny pins, a voodoo doll incarnation. a soft smile tugs at her cherry lips upon spotting him, overflowing with gratefulness that he doesn’t seem to mind the arrangement, at least enough to play his part. “sure, i would love to.” words swim out her mouth in a mellow tone, awkwardly shoving her notebook and glitter pens in the tote bag not to keep him waiting, ultimately hoping it’s what her grandma would’ve done in her position. nervously playing with the bag’s strand, she rocks on her heels as she languidly studies his features. similar to words, affection also doesn’t come easy to her; a subconscious thing it is, she craves the idle touches, the subtle parades of belonging. a friend and possibly her future spouse, mixed signals are all she’s receiving and giving off, never knowing where the lines are drawn. he likes to read, that she remembers from before, something to use while she desperately tries to connect with him. “what have you been reading lately?” merrit asks while nonchalantly extending her hand to leo, a confusing neediness to feel him closer pulsating through her body. 

( closed starter for @ofmerrit​ ! )

it wasn’t hard for leonardo to act like things were going perfectly fine, even if they weren’t. whether at home or in public, he had a habit of concealing his emotions when it negatively affected his reputation. ever since the conversation with his grandparents and his parents ( the idea that he was to be with merrit due to both families being old money ), he had no way of rejecting the decision that was made for him. his father was well-aware of how it looked, but he was too invested in the money aspect rather than how his son felt. and his mother ( bless the woman ) was a little too ecstatic for a possible daughter-in-law that all she could talk to leonardo  —  or, rather, anyone that had ears  —  about was the romantic aspect of the young pair. ‘now, leonardo, you must be nice to her and treat her like she’s the only one in the room,’ his mother would repeat each time they spoke. and there was something about going against his mother’s wishes that hurt him, so he held his tongue and tried his best to please both parents. shaking the thoughts from his mind, leonardo took a breath, ran his fingers through his messy brown hair, and swiftly jogged up to the girl he was pressured to be around. “merrit,” his voice was somewhat stiff but still veiled with a kind of charm that was reserved for situations he felt he could try to manipulate. “i’m off to the yard, if you’d like to join?”

[ofmerrit]