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RUSSIAN CLASSICS AESTHETICS.

BOLD whatever applies to or attracts your muse.

BROTHERS KARAMAZOV   :       orthodox monasteries ,   deep woods ,   starry nights ,  the sound of paper being torn ,   dimly lit rooms ,  withered roses , an unfinished letter , piles of books   ,  the sound of shattering glass ,  ticking of clocks in a silent house , heavy wooden furniture  ,  the air before a storm   ,  the smell of earth   ,   a crowd of people dressed in black  , distant murmurs  ,  emptied streets  ,   the fear of walking alone in dusk.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT :        coldness of the skin against a blade ,   slender pale fingers   &   slightly shaking hands   ,   a red stain blooming on white fabric   , lonely steps in a corridor   ,  the slow dripping of water   ,   looking out of the window into the thickening darkness ,  a single dying candle on the table ,  listening to one’s breath   &   counting heartbeats  , too many stairs   , the desire to be invisible  ,  a subtle memory of kind words.

THE IDIOT   :         classical statues  ,   wealth covered with dust  ,   a dark house tainted with inherited madness ,  an unsettling feeling ,  long walks in a park   ,   useless chatter ,   a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench   ,   a melancholic face   ,  an unexpected spring rain   ,   the joy of reading one’s favorite book  , the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around , looking at cloudless sky.

ANNA KARENINA :       fields of crops  ,   flowers brought from an early morning walk   ,  the wind caressing a girl’s hair  ,   a bowl of fruit ,   the smell of ripe pears  ,   the clatter of a spoon against porcelain when stirring tea   ,   children’s laughter coming from the garden ,  soft sunlight   &   white curtains ,   the sensation of velvet against skin  ,  pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor ,  a sudden silence in a room full of people.

WAR AND PEACE   :       a glass of wine ,   the brightness of  a crystal chandelier , white lace   , a raging snow storm   ,   the sound of a door being gently closed ,   the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ball room  ,  indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light   ,  closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing ,   the sweet smell of strawberries  ,   a pair of gloves left on an armchair ,   light scent of powder.

THE MASTER AND MARGARITA   :        the chaos of a lively city ,   ambient jazz in expensive restaurants   , jumping on a moving tram , the sight of moscow from the roof of a house   ,  yellow flowers in a vase , leaning out of the window  ,  shelves stacked with books  , a small tin box with old photographs  , strange shapes in the night sky   , laughing in the middle of the night on a balcony   ,   colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind.

EUGENE ONEGIN   :       a lonely mansion  ,   reading a book in the parlour   ,   faint piano melody lingering in falling silence ,   long evenings  , passing seasons   ,   discussing french novels of the moment , unspoken thoughts  ,   leaning against the door frame , quickly averted glance  , eating a peach absent-minded  ,  bright mornings  ,   footprints in snow   ,   a loud gun-shot terrifying a flock of birds nearby.

FATHERS AND SONS :        birch groves   , morning mist ,   moss-covered stones near a moor  ,  scientific books   ,   white roses , cheap champagne   ,   shabby pocket-watch  , light-hearted irony  ,   a maladroit cello sonata   ,   freshly mowed grass   , letting thoughts come   &   go   ,  a  slow yawn ,  picturesque plates   &   bowls filled with traditional dishes ,   drinking tea on the porch.

DOCTOR ZHIVAGO   :        a strange feeling of loss ,  writing poems in a diary ,  traveling by train,   the hesitation before touching someone’s hand  ,   the gaze of one lost in thought  , the warmth of cinnamon   ,   a scarf brightly embellished with flowers   ,   a glass of water  ,   a threadbare jacket  ,   the tempting void , the evanescent serenity of yesterday.

CHERRY ORCHARD   :    a lone chair in an empty room   , falling blossoms ,   old samovar   , the unsettling need for change  ,  a mirror reflecting full moon   , the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance   ,   a piano out of tune

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Oscar Isaac in A Most Violent Year (2014)

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Which movie have you seen more than any other? Dog Day Afternoon. For me, it’s a perfect movie. Everything about it, from shooting to pacing to performances. The humour of it, the pain of – everything about it works so beautifully, and it has one of the most beautiful performances ever captured from Al Pacino.

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oscar isaac in w.e. (2011)

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I don’t blame you for not knowing how to remain soft with me.

       since when did scarlett lefurgey have such a small voice? since when did she look so small as she stood in front of him? since when did—always.  he thought quietly. she was like this when she came back from dc. she was like this when she had a bad phone call. she was like this but she just hid it from him. she was louder than— words that rang in his head, of when they were younger (maybe wiser). of when she was in his arms, and he was lazily playing with her hair as they watched the notebook.

       he remembered what he said as she voiced her concern. how she was afraid of the next year when they wouldn’t be together in the same school. he recalled smiling at her and whispering i could never leave you, forget you, want anything but you.

       but he did. oh he did leave her. he tried to forget her. he tried so hard to want to be someone else that wasn’t her—or did he? did he even try? he could remember that he even said her name when he was with another woman. he could remember it all. the regretful nights of trying to forget her laugh. the time he he got sick and saw her, and how she teased him as if no time had passed.  but as he looked at her, arms crossed defensively as if she was afraid to let him in. he knew it was his fault. he shouldn’t have left. he knew that. he knew that for such a long time that he didn’t even know how to voice it. he shouldn’t have tried to forget her. because she was unforgettable. 

        she had carved a place in his life, his mind, his heart. she had made a place for herself with a smug look and he couldn’t get rid of her because she was a part of him. he shouldn’t have thought that anyone could come close to her. that he could want anyone else. ❝ you should. you should blame me. because it is my fault. ❞ he whispered softly. ❝ it’s not that i didn’t know how— ❞ he let out a sigh and put his head in his hands. ❝ i just didn’t know if it was enough. if you wanted me. it wasn’t that i didn’t know how to—it’s just that i couldn’t then because i didn’t know if you still wanted me. —it wasn’t about you. it was my ego. it was my—❞ a sharp inhale as he looked at her, broken and vulnerable. she could leave him. she could forget him. she could become sharp again. but she was here. and he didn’t know what else to do. ❝ i couldn’t be soft anymore because it hurt to know that wasn’t enough from you.  ❞

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atercygnus:

         THIS, SHE KNOWS, IT’S A HISTORY BINDING MOMENT   :   tales say you never know, say that you can’t ever tell the moments that will change the course of history.  she calls bullshit on this     ——-    she’s always known, deep in the marrow of her bone, which choices would modify everything and which wouldn’t.    these are your options   :   A)   your paperwork, your bitterness, your loneliness    /     B)   him, a chance to be yourself again, your heartbroken   /    C)   yourself   :    the chance to breathe again, and live again, a chance in happiness.   scarlett presses her lips together, nails digging into the cushion of the chair, until she looks at him, and she knows. she knows.  scarlett lets go of the chair, nodding a couple of times before walking towards the door.  ❛    alright.   ❜     she says, quietly, before she walks out.             

             scarlett has finished talking to mary by the time he comes back, and says not a word before getting her overcoat from the coat hanger.  the cold, sharp wind of january in new york greets her as she walks out of the p&p building, a soft smile on her lips as she feels it   :    sharp, and cruel, and unforgiving. like you   ——    no, nothing like you.   she places her hands in her pockets to keep her nails from digging into her palms   (   an old habits, as old habits are, that held itself into her life and never once dared to let go ).   scarlett looks at henry as he comes out, tilting her head to the side before biting the inside of her cheeks.        ❛   there’s one condition, though   ——    we have to take the subway.   ❜     she says it as a dare, raising her brows ever so lightly as she looks at him.      ❛      did you say you started cooking again?  why’d you ever stop?     ❜

             the tug on his lips as he followed behind her, noting the way she walked and carried herself. but he couldn’t help but wonder was she happy here? being the kingmaker? being a corporate lawyer. he could still remember the first time they talked about what sort of career they wanted to have when they grew up. he told her that he would have to take over his father’s business but he wanted to expand it more globally, to prove that a company can be transparent and not just think about their profit margins. she talked about how she would defend the innocent, the ones that didn’t have a voice. he could remember the fire in her eyes as she pulled her hair up into a bun, legs crossed over his before she stole some of his popcorn.   

             ❝ you do know that i have taken the subway. are you being making assumptions about me just because--wait you work at p&p! you probably make plenty of money to not take the subway. are you okay with taking the subway?  ❞ a teasing tone as he jogged to walk beside her. walking in the night, he didn’t know if he should tell her that he didn’t see the point. cooking had been something he had grown up doing at home with his mother. something that he did when he felt like he had a home to go back to. but his place wasn’t home. it was simply a place to sleep in between business trips. it wasn’t home. ❝ cooking for one is quite depressing scarlett. and also, i was always flying around that i was hardly home. it seemed foolish to buy food that may just go to waste.  there are starving people out there and wasting food isn’t something i could justify. ❞

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atercygnus:

           IT INFURIATES HER   :     cuts through her skin as a knife, fire ranging from the tips of her toes to the edge of her thumb, to her head and her heart, and all, and all, and all.   how does he still know it?    what to say, how to say it, how to make her heart beat faster and her hands shake, how to keep her eyes on his, how to take the words right from her lips.   she’s changed so much   —–   harder, colder, sharper, meaner.   she has lost so much of herself, and still    :  as if she’s sixteen years old again she watches, fingers reaching out towards his, begging for his touch, begging for something else, for  ——–   her fingers to dig into hair chair, for her to swallow past a lump in her throat.    ❛  i   —-   ❜   say it.   no, no, no, no.  no, henry, this is not a good idea, i don’t think so, i hardly  ——   say it.   she looks at her papers, mountains upon mountains of uninteresting things, piled upon themselves. she looks at him, and it’s deadly, as it always is.   ❛    i  hardly think i’m dressed appropriately.    ❜     she has already said yes. 

              he wondered if she knew, he wondered if she knew how much he had missed her. how much he regretted leaving for that semester. he wondered if she realized that he was still hopelessly in love with her. did she know that when she looked away, he couldn’t help but stare at her. after all these years, he was still in love with her--there was no denying that. so when her fingers dug into the chair, he was worried. was he pushing it? he didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. he just wanted--he needed her back in his life. even if it’s just like this--it was better than nothing. a breathy chuckle as he smiled at her response and shook his head. it wasn’t a no.  ❝ well it is pretty late and i’m also not exactly dressed to go out to some place nice. --i mean i just started cooking again so i was thinking my place. if that’s okay with you.if not, i’m sure we can just get take out some where. i mean it is new york. ❞

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atercygnus:

            DAMN HIM   :     damn his smile, damn the sound of his voice, damn the way in which he pulls her closer with nothing more than a glance, with a curl of his lips as her name slips out of them.  damn him.      ❛    henry  —-    ❜   a pause, fingers fidgeting, lips pressed against one another.  it’s not just a dinner, she wants to say, you and i both know that   ——   BUT SHE CAN’T.   not without giving away her cards, not without admitting that it’s more, it’s so much more    :    is it ever not more, when it comes to the two of them?     ❛    i’m sure you have more interesting people to have dinner with. like  —–  michael.    ❜   ask me again, she wants to say. ask me and i’ll let go. 

          what a fool he was. what a fool he still was. but it was different now, wasn’t it? before he lost something, and here he was trying desperately to get it back. he was a fool that wasn’t afraid of what consequences would lie ahead because at least, he’d be able to hold her again. where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;  ❝ michael is not as interesting as you are. ❞ grabbing his coat from behind the chair, he swung it over his shoulders and slid his arms in. he looked at her and felt his lips tug into a small smile, hand extended, reaching out to her. if she needed him to, he would get on his knees and beg. he would’t make the same mistake twice.  ❝ have dinner with me, scar. i want to have dinner with you. no one else.  ❞

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atercygnus:

        ❛    NO, I DON’T THINK THAT’S A GOOD IDEA.    ❜       is it uncertainty that follows each syllable that her lips leaves?      or is it fear?   fear, yes, of the way in which her body still calls to his, with the simplest of words, fear, yes, of the manner in which with nothing but a glance he drags his teeth through her heart and still, still, opens gashing wounds that bleed, and bleed, and bleed.                     

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            would it be like pressing the reset button or pressing play again? how many years had he imagined this, he never would have thought that after all of this, that she would still be here. the smile on his lips did falter when she said no so quickly. but he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.  ❝ it would just be dinner, scarlett. we’ve had dinner before.  ❞

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atercygnus:

            DOES HE REALIZE THE WEIGHT OF THIS MOMENT?   does it feel as heavy  (  and yet so light  )   on his shoulders as it feels on hers?  he has met louise, she knows, and jacqueline, she knows, but it’s different   :    the weight of them in her life could never come close to that of the people behind that door. his family is everything to him, she knows.  she won’t tell him  (  not now, not ever  ), but the feeling won’t ever go away  :   as if she’s subpar, never good enough, not quite there. not warm enough, not kind enough, too much of a lefurgey, not enough of a ivanova.  what would your mother say, if she saw you right now?     just be yourself, annushka. you’re perfect the way you are.  what would your father say, if he saw you right now?   don’t be pathetic, scarlett. you’re a lefurgey. everyone else is second best.    ❛   who   ——   henry. i know you love me, for whatever reason, but  ——   it’s not like everyone in your family likes me.  ❜   they’ll hate me, she doesn’t say, like your father does, she doesn’t say.

           ❛   i mean           are you certain that would be such a bad idea?   ❜   scarlett tries not to, she does, but the words come out of her lips either way, lips curled upwards and tongue sharp and silver.  he’s better at this than she is, she knows, but two can play this game   —–    she’s good with her words, good with her tongue, good, good, good. she turns to look at him, brows arched upwards, head tilted slightly to look at him    ❛   are you certain you want me to talk about positions right here, three feet away from your family?   —–   the most important position in society is that of the working class, is what i said. they should be given the same respect as the rest, but are not.  ❜   she tilts her head back, laughs hard  :   teeth shows, head turns from one side to the other. the words come out as the door opens   —–    ❛   harvard?  what, like it’s hard?   ❜                              

            a low chuckle as he pulled her closer. how did he get so lucky? how did he find someone as clever and sharp witted as her?  ❝ like i said, don’t tempt me ivanova. my cousins will murder me if they don’t get to meet you. the fact that it has taken this long--well elena said it would make her wedding epic and legendary. i think she’s been watching how i met your mother too many times with mark. ❞ smiling as he pressed his lips against the top of her head, how was it possible that he was this happy?  ❝ scarlett. ❞ his tone turning serious, voice low and deep, he looked at her with the most neutral look he could muster.  ❝ i can’t go in that room if you keep teasing me like this. my cousins won’t ever let it go. scratch that, miguel won’t. ❞

         the bombardment of questions and comments. he pulled scarlett a bit closer as he saw his entire extended family turn their focus to the opened door and the excited look in their eyes as they entered. ❝ this is--. ❞ SCARLETT !  there it was, elena’s signature voice ringing above the rest. using the fact that she’s the bride to push ahead to be in front of them. COME ON DAVE. YOU KNOW I DESERVE TO TALK TO HER FIRST. I’M THE FUCKING BRIDE. HI !  looking down, he then motioned to the bright and cheerful woman in front of them. ❝ elena. she’s the one getting married, and yet i think she’s more excited to see you than get married. ❞ I CAN GET MARRIED ANYTIME HENROLD. BRINGING YOUR GIRLFRIEND TO A FAMILY EVENT! THIS IS HISTORIC. NOW LEAVE AND GO TALK TO MIGUEL. MIGUEL TAKE HIM TO GET A DRINK, I’MMA SPEND TIME WITH SCARLETT !  ❝ uhm--!  ❞ a jolt as his older cousin pulled him away from his girlfriend. he promised he wouldn’t leave her side and yet--they planned this. these assholes. ❝ yell for me if you need me!   ❞

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atercygnus:

              EYES SHUT AT THE SOUND OF HER LAST NAME,  lips curl upwards, teeth grab onto the flesh of her cheeks as their foreheads touch. no one has ever had such an effect on her  :   not her childish crushes, not george, no one   ———–   when they are together, there are no expectations  (  only the ones she puts on herself  ),  no duties, no fake smiles, no coldness of the touch   :     when they are together, and even when they are not, happiness feels closer, emptiness feels smaller, because he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere. they say every young love feels like this, but she doubts it with every fiber of her being.    ❛  i’d tell you that when you see someone, when you truly see someone, you ought to see the whole of them. not just the beautiful and the brilliant. all of it.  even the pieces i don’t want your family to see.   ❜    there it is, once more, the fear that slips out of her lips and into his ears, the hesitation  ——-   it means so much. 

           scarlett laughs, head tilted upwards as it comes out of her lips  —–  that was a good one, she’ll admit, even brilliant.  for a moment, an instant, she forgets where they are, and stands once again on the tip of her toes, lips near his ear.     ❛   find your favorite page in the soft spot between my legs and read it carefully, fluently, vividly   ——   ❜   she goes back to her spot, shrugging briefly before looking at him with a nonchalant expression  ❛   what can i say?  it’s a rather good poem.   ❜     scarlett presses her lips against one another, taking in a deep breath before glancing at him.  ❛  is there anyone in your family in a non important position?  is it a requirement, to be a hotshot at whatever it is that you do?  ❜                   

             he should really stop using all his best lines right now. what would use in the future? what would he use for his vows but then again, would she not expand his vocabulary even more? if he could be this happy now, how much more when they finally are together in the same city again. when they were able to become the people they always wanted to be. when they become the people they wanted to be, instead of what society or what their families expect them to become.  ❝ well here’s another secret to really seeing someone.  ❞  he whispered as he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and cupped her face. his hands pressing against her cheeks as he looked at her straight in the eyes with no fear.  ❝ all those pieces, no matter how weirdly they are shaped, no matter how bizarre they amy be-- they make up the beautiful whole picture that i’m staring at. and scarlett, i love every part of you. that’s the honest truth. ❞ 

               groaning as he put his arm around her shoulder and pressed his lips against her temple before walking towards the door.  ❝ if you keep reminding me, i might not let you even meet my family and just steal you away to our hotel room. i can recite pages from that favorite book from memory. so don’t tempt me, ivanova. ❞  he threw his head back with laughter before he looked at her with a shrug.  ❝ i mean, isn’t every position important? wasn’t that your argument for why classes are stupid because every occupation in society is important to society? or was that jason’s argument that you tweaked--anyways, you’re also a hot shot, miss. harvard. so what are you afraid of, especially since it’s too late to turn back. ❞ turning the doorknob to the ballroom where they were meeting, he heard the loud squeal of his cousin elena and smiled at scarlett.  ❝ who needs luck when we have each other, right? ❞

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atercygnus:

           SHE ALMOST DOESN’T HEAR IT  :   he’s not saying to her, she knows, but she pretends that he is. she pretends, even if for a second, that she’s the sun  :   do you see me? am i here?   she’s used to disappearing, to being swallowed by houses and men  —–   am i here? do you see me? DO YOU REALLY SEE ME?  all of me?   ❛  and not only the pride of intellect, but the stupidity of intellect. and, above all, the dishonesty, yes, the dishonesty of intellect. yes, indeed, the dishonesty and trickery of intellect.  ❜    she whispers, raising her brows slightly while her lips curl upwards and she holds back the urge to press them against his jawline, his nose, his lips. instead, she winks at him, as if she says i can play this game too, and i’ll beat you every single time. she can’t stop looking at him  :   were he the sun, she’d have gone blind by now, or would be seeing multiple color for days on end. perhaps she is. perhaps that’s what being in love feels like, looks like, is like.    ❛  you’d make a terrible poet, no matter how much love you touched.  ❜   she says, pretending that her lips aren’t wide, pretending that her cheeks aren’t flushed, pretending that her heart doesn’t beat faster and faster and faster with each and every word that comes out of his lips. they’d sound like poetry anyway, she knows, lacking metaphors and rhymes and sounds, even then, even so.    ❛   i mean, can you blame her?  i wouldn’t be excited about getting married to man named mark, either.   ❜

           it was a simple truth. she made him happier than he has ever been before. more grounded, more himself than he ever knew himself to be. when he looked at his reflection, he didn’t look at it with a passing glance of his own existence but he felt it. he wasn’t henry ackerman the heartbreaker, the heir, or whatever the tabloids called him. he was just her henry and it felt right. ❝ and if say yes, what would you say then, ivanova? that i see every brilliant and beautiful part of you.  ❞ he teased and leaned in, his forehead touching hers. she made him fumble for his next words, become speechless as he looked at her, smiling at him. for a few seconds, they looked slightly into each other's eyes and the distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible and inevitable. he thought quietly as she teased him, as she smiled at him, as those hazel eyes stared up at him and made him feel so lucky to be here. he even forgot that they were hear to celebrate someone else’s love, for how can anyone compare to what he had for her. 

          ❝ well not all of us are aspiring poets that sneak in a poem that talks about how her boyfriend’s mouth had a gift of reading and how she was his favorite book into his debate notes. ❞ was it possible to be this happy? he could hear the noise that was his cousins laughing and waiting to meet her and he couldn’t wait. ❝ mark works as a journalist at the new yorker, i’d give him a little credit. ❞

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atercygnus:

         I’VE NEVER SEEN YOU LIKE THIS   :   adam said to her once, after he saw her with him for the first time. i’ve never seen you smile like that, like you’re not carrying the world on your back. i think i like it. scarlett likes it, too. she likes the way she feels with him, the way his lip feels against her forehead, the way his eyes meet hers, the way she knows and he knows and the world knows  :   she is not one to believe in destiny, but he makes her, oh he makes her, fall to her knees and believe in a holy figure, in a guidance  ——-  SOMETHING MEANT TO BE.  scarlett laughs, teeth showing as she tilts her head backwards, eyes at his briefly before she tilts her head.   ❛   it’s what makes me attracted to you, i think. the pretentiousness of it all. oh, henry, quote me a plato quote. oh, henry, do it, do it and i’m yours.   ❜    there’s a sharp edge to the way the words come out of her lips, brows raised before another laughter escapes her throat. it’s lightweight with him. it’s easier with him. scarlett lets his arms wrap around her waist, tilting her head to look at him as they walk.    ❛   she’s the bride, isn’t she? henry  ——  please don’t leave me alone with her. please don’t let her start hugging me. i can’t ruin her day. please.   ❜    

          he never felt like this before, he was used to feeling a little bit empty—feeling like there was something missing. and ever since izzy, it just grew and grew and grew. and few felt like he would be buried alive and yet feel like nothing was there to fill him.  but here she was, being someone that brought joy, made him believe that it was possible to be happy again. henry tries not to look at her for too long, as if she was the sun, he thought. ❝ —yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking. ❞ he whispered more to himself as he pressed his forehead against hers, taking some time to savor this intimate moment between the two of them. the warmth that spread throughout his entire body as he heard the way she laughed, feeling more full than anything else.  ❝ hmn? plato—and here i thought quoting tolstoy would have gotten to you because i couldn’t help it—for at the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet. ❞ he could quote just about anything, and yet here was, reciting poetry ( russian poetry at that. ) maybe that was just another thing that scarlett changed about him.  ❝ you won’t ruin her day! —she’s a hugger. it can’t be helped that she may throw me off and cling to you. she has been texting me non-stop making sure you’d be coming.i think she’s more excited to see you than to get married.   ❞

[relabso]

atercygnus:

           IT IS LIKE A SUPERPOWER :  the manner in which he can calm her down with only a few words, and a look, and a touch. she squeezes his hand, taking a step towards him before standing on the tip of her toes, eyes searching for his as she presses her lips against one another. even if it feels overwhelming  —–  the idea of meeting his entire family, the idea of inviting them into her life, into her heart, being there with him makes it all easier   :    IT FEELS SAFE.   ❛   do you promise?  ❜    there’s a vulnerability to her voice that she does not show often, not even to melody, not even to him  :  i’m not invincible, she wants to say. it will shatter me if they do not like me. it will shatter us.  she presses her lips softly to his jaw before turning around, not letting go of his hand.  ❛   an open bar is the way into my heart    —–   and everyone thinks you’re a pretentious smart ass, henry. they just don’t say it because either they want to fuck you or use you. or both.   ❜  

            it was too cliche to say that they fit perfectly together like pieces of a puzzle. and yet--when she pressed her body against his. when she looked up at him, with a look at he hoped that she would never share with anyone else. tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear--he couldn’t feel more full, more complete, more whole than now. she made him feel unbroken. that he was able to do anything because she would be there, helping every step of the way. she was here.   ❝ promise. ❞ he whispered low before he pressed his lips against her forehead. something warm spread throughout his body as he had to pinch him self. how could he be so happy? was it even possible. a smile reaching his eyes as she teased him ❝ but you still say i’m a pretentious asshole. -- does that mean you don’t want to fuck me? damn--so who have i been--  ❞ a low chuckle before he pulled her close and pressed his lips against the crown of her head. ❝ but i can’t help you if elena starts hugging you and if she won’t let go. she’s a hugger by the way. is this a fair warning?  ❞