#resin flooring near me

[resinflooringcontractor]

Decoding the Expertise of Resin Flooring Contractors

So, you're on the hunt for the wizards of the flooring world – resin flooring contractors. These are the maestros who turn mundane floors into sleek, durable marvels. Let's uncover the enigma surrounding Resin Flooring Contractors and how to find the perfect match for your project.

The Role of Resin Flooring Contractors

Resin flooring contractors – envision them as the architects for your floors, the artists who blend chemistry and craftsmanship to create surfaces that exude both style and resilience. But how do you find these flooring gurus who can turn your flooring dreams into reality?

Qualities That Define Top-notch Resin Flooring Contractors

Navigating through the multitude of contractors requires a discerning eye. Here are some key qualities to seek when scouting for the ideal resin flooring contractor:

Experience Speaks Volumes: Seek contractors with a rich history in resin flooring. Experience isn't just a number here; it's a testament to their expertise and reliability.

Portfolio and Testimonials: Delve into their portfolio, akin to flipping through an artist's masterpiece collection. Reviews and testimonials are the breadcrumbs guiding you to their skill and professionalism.

Transparency and Communication: Contractors who communicate openly and clearly about the process, costs, and timelines are akin to trustworthy partners in your flooring journey.

Where to Discover Resin Flooring Contractors

Now that you know what to look for, let's explore where to unearth these flooring virtuosos:

Online Platforms: Utilize search engines with phrases like "resin flooring contractors in the US" or explore directories like Yelp or Angie's List to unearth a plethora of options.

Social Media and Forums: Platforms like Facebook groups or Reddit threads might harbor insights or recommendations from homeowners who've trodden the resin flooring path.

Local Networking and Trade Shows: Engage with contractors face-to-face at trade shows or events in your area. This direct interaction can provide firsthand insights into their expertise.

Navigating the Evaluation Process

Congratulations! You've spotted potential resin flooring contractors. But before finalizing, here's what to expect during the evaluation phase:

Site Visits and Assessment: Anticipate contractors to visit your space for a detailed evaluation. This step is crucial to understanding your specific needs and constraints.

Detailed Proposals: A breakdown of costs, timelines, and materials involved should be presented. Beware of vague estimates – clarity is paramount.

Negotiation and Contract Terms: Engage in discussions about terms, warranties, and any queries before sealing the deal.

Choosing the Right Resin Flooring Contractor

Selecting the perfect contractor is akin to finding the right puzzle piece – it completes the picture. Remember these pointers before making your decision:

Trust Your Instincts: If something feels amiss, trust your gut. Your comfort and confidence in the contractor matter.

Clarity in Communication: Ensure both parties are aligned on expectations, timelines, and costs. Effective communication minimizes future misunderstandings.

Embracing the Transformation

Resin flooring contractors are the conductors orchestrating the symphony of style and durability in your space. Finding the right one is not just a search; it's an investment in the aesthetics and longevity of your floors.

So, embark on this quest equipped with discernment and patience. With the perfect resin flooring contractor by your side, your floors won't just be surfaces – they'll be testaments to craftsmanship and vision, embodying durability and sophistication.

Remember, the journey to finding the ideal resin flooring contractor is more than a hunt; it's a collaboration, a partnership in creating floors that go beyond mere functionality, becoming a blend of artistry and strength. Choose wisely, and let your floors speak volumes about your style and reliability.

[cambridgeshireresinflooring]

The Resin Flooring Contractors

[resinfloorings]

Unveiling the Elegance Beneath: Prime Resin Flooring

In the grand tapestry of home improvement, one often stumbles upon the quest for the perfect flooring – a foundation that not only supports our daily hustle but also embraces the aesthetic aspirations we harbor. It's a pursuit where durability shakes hands with design, and functionality dances with finesse. Amidst this intricate dance, resin floor cost per m2 emerges as a maestro, orchestrating a symphony of strength and style.

What Sets Prime Resin Flooring Apart?

Prime Resin Flooring is not merely a surface underfoot; it's a testament to a meticulous blend of cutting-edge technology and timeless elegance. Imagine a flooring solution that doesn't merely cover your space but becomes an integral part of its identity – a liquid art form that molds itself seamlessly onto any substrate, transforming mundane floors into a canvas of possibilities.

So, what exactly makes Prime Resin Flooring stand out in the crowd?

Unmatched Durability: Prime Resin Flooring is the fortress of your floors. It withstands the relentless footfall, the occasional spill, and the unforgiving test of time. It's not just about resisting wear and tear; it's about emerging unscathed, wearing the crown of endurance.

Limitless Design Palette: In the realm of aesthetics, Prime Resin Flooring reigns supreme. It doesn't just come in a range of colors; it offers a spectrum of expressions. From the minimalist elegance of a solid color to the avant-garde allure of metallic finishes, the design possibilities are as vast as your imagination.

Seamless Application: The application process of Prime Resin Flooring is akin to an artistic performance. Picture a fluid material cascading over your floor, filling every nook and cranny, creating a flawless surface that seems to have organically grown into place. It's not just flooring; it's an installation masterpiece.

Low Maintenance, High Impact: In the hustle of modern life, who has the time for elaborate maintenance rituals? Prime Resin Flooring understands this conundrum and emerges as the hero with a low-maintenance cape. A simple sweep or mop, and your floor is ready to dazzle again. It's a flooring solution that thrives on simplicity but delivers a visual spectacle.

The Art of Application: A Dance of Chemistry

Applying Prime Resin Flooring is akin to orchestrating a delicate chemical ballet. The components mingle and dance to a choreography that results in a floor that's not just sturdy but aesthetically impeccable. The resin, akin to a conductor, orchestrates the transformation, weaving durability and design seamlessly.

Picture this: your floor, once a mere substrate, now transformed into a surface that tells a story – a story of resilience and sophistication.

The Chemistry Behind the Brilliance

Epoxy Resin: The backbone of Prime Resin Flooring, epoxy resin forms a robust foundation. It's not merely a coating; it's a shield that stands resolute against scratches, stains, and the wear and tear of daily life.

Polyurethane Magic: The secret ingredient in the recipe of Prime Resin Flooring's success is polyurethane. It adds a touch of flexibility to the mix, ensuring that your floor not only stands strong but also has a subtle bounce, adapting to the rhythm of life.

Pigments and Finishes: Like a palette in the hands of an artist, pigments and finishes in Prime Resin Flooring allow for a spectrum of colors and textures. It's not just a floor; it's a canvas waiting for your creative strokes.

Application: A Symphony in Motion

The application process unfolds like a crescendo in a musical piece. The professionals, akin to virtuoso musicians, meticulously prepare the substrate, ensuring it's a blank canvas ready to embrace the transformative magic of Prime Resin Flooring.

Envision this: your space, devoid of its flooring symphony, now about to be draped in a cloak of elegance.

Surface Preparation: Much like tuning instruments before a concert, the substrate is prepared with precision. It involves cleaning, leveling, and ensuring a seamless canvas for the resin performance.

Primer: The Overture: The primer is the overture – a preliminary layer that sets the stage for the main act. It ensures adhesion and primes the surface for the grand resin entrance.

Resin Application: The Main Act: Here comes the star – the resin. It's poured, spread, and coaxed into place, a liquid masterpiece finding its form. It levels itself, filling every void, creating a surface that's as uniform as it is enchanting.

Curing – The Grand Finale: As the resin cures, it's akin to the final movement of a symphony. The transformation is complete, and your floor emerges not just as a functional entity but as a work of art.

Practicality Meets Panache: Everyday Life with Prime Resin Flooring

But how does Prime Resin Flooring fare in the daily hustle? Does its aesthetic grandeur withstand the rigors of everyday life? The answer is a resounding yes, and here's why.

Spill-Proof Brilliance: Life is rife with spills – from morning coffee mishaps to the occasional toppled glass of wine during evening soirees. Prime Resin Flooring laughs in the face of spills. Its impermeable surface ensures that accidents are mere anecdotes, not lasting stains.

Scratch Resistance – a Shield Against Chaos: If your space is a battleground of furniture movement and playful pets, fear not. Prime Resin Flooring is equipped with scratch resistance that rivals a knight's armor. Your floor remains unscathed, regardless of the chaos it endures.

Underfloor Heating Harmony: In the cold months, the harmony of underfloor heating often clashes with traditional flooring. Prime Resin Flooring, however, conducts warmth with grace. It becomes a seamless conductor of heat, ensuring your space remains cozy and inviting.

Beyond Beauty: The Eco-Friendly Footprint

In a world where environmental consciousness is not just a buzzword but a responsibility, Prime Resin Flooring stands tall as an eco-friendly choice. It's not merely about aesthetics; it's about leaving a positive footprint.

Low VOC Content: Volatile Organic Compounds (VOCs) are often the villains in the world of flooring. Prime Resin Flooring, however, is a hero with a low VOC content, ensuring that the air you breathe is as fresh as your floor looks.

Longevity Means Less Waste: The durability of Prime Resin Flooring is not just a testament to its strength but also to its sustainability. A floor that stands the test of time means less frequent replacements, translating to reduced waste.

The Unveiling: Is Prime Resin Flooring Right for You?

As we draw back the curtains on the stage of Prime Resin Flooring, the spotlight reveals a versatile performer. But is it the right act for your home? Let's consider a few key factors.

Design Aspirations: If your heart beats for design, if your space yearns for a unique identity, then Prime Resin Flooring is a canvas awaiting your creative touch.

High-Traffic Zones: In spaces where the hustle is incessant – be it a bustling kitchen or the entryway of a lively home – Prime Resin Flooring is not just an option; it's a strategic choice. Its durability withstands the relentless march of daily life.

Environmental Consciousness: If sustainability is not just a checkbox but a guiding principle, then the eco-friendly profile of Prime Resin Flooring aligns seamlessly with your values.

Parting Thoughts: A Floor that Echoes Elegance

In the grand theater of home improvement, Prime Resin Flooring takes center stage, not as a supporting actor but as the luminary lead. It's not merely a surface; it's a story, an expression, a dance of chemistry that transforms your floor into a masterpiece.

As you step onto Prime Resin Flooring, envision not just a surface beneath your feet but a stage where every step narrates a tale of endurance and elegance. So, let the performance begin – a symphony of style, a ballet of strength – and let your floor echo with the applause of a home truly adorned.

[resinflooringinstallersblog]

Resin Floors Manchester: Elevate Your Space with Enduring Elegance

So, you're on the hunt for that perfect flooring solution that combines durability with an elegant touch? Look no further than Resin floors manchester. These aren’t just floors; they're statements of sophistication. Let’s explore why resin floors in Manchester are not just a trend but a timeless choice for transforming your spaces into arenas of enduring beauty.

The Magnificence of Resin Floors

Enduring Beauty & Durability

Resin floors aren’t just about looks; they’re built to last. The seamless application and durable nature of resin floors make them ideal for high-traffic areas, ensuring they withstand the test of time.

Versatility & Aesthetic Appeal

What sets resin floors apart is their versatility. They offer a myriad of design options, from sleek and polished to vibrant and artistic finishes. It’s like having an artist’s palette for your floors!

Why Choose Resin Floors in Manchester?

Local Expertise & Craftsmanship

Manchester boasts experts who understand the nuances of resin floors. Their craftsmanship and attention to detail ensure your floors aren’t just installed; they’re meticulously crafted works of art.

Elevating Your Space

Resin floors in Manchester aren’t just flooring; they elevate your space to a new level. They breathe life into interiors, enhancing the ambiance and adding that touch of sophistication.

Seeking the Right Resin Flooring Experts

Navigating Your Quest

Searching for “resin floors in Manchester” marks the start of your journey. Local experts understand the area, the climate, and your unique flooring needs.

Assessing Expertise & Testimonials

As you delve into the search, explore reviews and testimonials. Insights from previous clients unveil the expertise and quality of craftsmanship offered by resin flooring experts in Manchester.

The Value They Bring

Long-Term Investment in Quality

Sure, the initial investment might seem higher, but think of it as an investment in longevity. Resin floors require minimal maintenance and offer durability that withstands the trials of time.

Transforming Spaces & Adding Value

Resin floors aren’t just about aesthetics; they increase the perceived value of your property. They transform spaces, making them stand out in the market.

Conclusion: Embracing the Timeless Elegance of Resin Floors in Manchester

In essence, resin floors in Manchester aren’t merely flooring options; they're the epitome of sophistication and durability. They’re more than just a trend; they’re a statement that withstands the whims of time. As you envision your spaces adorned with these exquisite floors, envision the resilience and elegance they bring. They’re not just floors; they’re the canvas upon which your style and endurance blend seamlessly. They're the unsung heroes of interior elegance!

[illubean]

Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"

(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freak™️ whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)

HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o

Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

this is so me

Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff

Leorio Paladaknight

being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful

at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something

he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor

the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill

and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"

and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?

or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like

"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"

1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT

he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into

when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out

how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?

he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"

yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)

Illumi Zoldyck

whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power

aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate

that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually

when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why

that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face

"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"

he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement

i mean, to each their own am i right?

so you have ah hobby, big deal

Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home

so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup

you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win

Chrollo Lucilfer

he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his 😭

he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery

you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff

he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass

but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF

he is intrigued

he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)

what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket

bro was so confused

"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"

yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that

he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself

he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to

so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you

he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process

you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more

Feitan Portor

I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe

whatever you do outside of it is your business

buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are

thus him finding out about your hobby and other job

out of everyone on this list he is the most interested

he too is a morbid little freak

he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him

what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things

sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that

Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't

after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that

he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3

[blogport]

EPOXYSHİNE - DRAGON+ (3)

Epoxy floor coating is not just a practical choice for enhancing the durability of your flooring; it's also a stylish solution that can transform any space. Whether you're a homeowner looking to revamp your garage or a business owner seeking reliable commercial flooring solutions, understanding the benefits of epoxy will help you make informed decisions. As you search for "floor polishing near me," consider how an expertly applied epoxy coating can elevate your interiors while providing a long-lasting finish. 

Epoxy Floor Coating

Epoxy floor coating is a highly durable and resilient flooring solution that has gained popularity in both residential and commercial spaces. This type of coating is made from a combination of resin and hardener, creating a strong bond when applied to existing concrete surfaces. The result is a seamless surface that can withstand heavy foot traffic, chemicals, and abrasions.

One of the major benefits of epoxy floor coating is its versatility. It can be customized in various colors and finishes, including high-gloss and matte textures. This means that property owners can choose a look that complements their interior design while still providing the durability they require. Additionally, the smooth finish of epoxy makes it easy to clean and maintain, which is particularly advantageous in commercial settings.

Furthermore, the installation process for epoxy floor coating is relatively quick, often completed within a few days. However, it’s essential to hire professionals who have the expertise and equipment to ensure a flawless application. The right team will properly prepare the surface, allowing for optimal adhesion and longevity of the coating.

Floor Polishing Near Me

When searching for floor polishing near me, it's essential to find a service that not only meets your expectations but also understands the unique needs of your flooring. Professional floor polishing can revitalize old surfaces, restoring their shine and luster while protecting them from future wear and tear.

Many local companies offer specialized services in floor polishing that cater to various materials, including hardwood, tile, and concrete. A quick search in your area will yield numerous options, allowing you to compare prices, services, and customer reviews to find the best fit for your needs.

Additionally, hiring professionals for floor polishing ensures that the job is done correctly and efficiently. They use advanced equipment and high-quality products that not only enhance the appearance of your floors but also extend their lifespan. So, don't hesitate to reac

Commercial Flooring Solutions

Commercial flooring solutions are essential for businesses seeking to enhance their aesthetic appeal while also ensuring durability and functionality. The choice of flooring can greatly influence the overall atmosphere of a commercial space, leading to improved employee morale and customer satisfaction.

Among the various options available, epoxy floor coatings stand out due to their seamless finish and resistance to heavy foot traffic. These coatings not only provide a sleek look but also protect the underlying surface from wear and tear, making them ideal for warehouses, retail spaces, and industrial environments.

Moreover, businesses often explore additional options such as vinyl flooring, carpet tiles, and laminate surfaces to meet specific needs. Each of these materials offers unique advantages, allowing business owners to choose the most suitable flooring solution that aligns with their operational demands and aesthetic preferences.

Metallic Epoxy Floor

A metallic epoxy floor offers a stunning visual appeal that enhances the aesthetic of any space. The reflective properties of the metallic pigments create a unique look, resulting in a three-dimensional effect that can mimic a variety of surfaces, such as water, marble, or even molten metal. This type of flooring is especially popular in modern homes, showrooms, and commercial spaces, providing an eye-catching yet durable surface.

One of the significant advantages of a metallic epoxy floor is its durability. This flooring solution is resistant to stains, chemicals, and impacts, making it ideal for high-traffic areas. Additionally, it is easy to clean and maintain, which means that business owners and homeowners can save time and resources. The seamless nature of epoxy flooring also contributes to a hygienic environment, especially in spaces like hospitals or laboratories.

Installing a metallic epoxy floor can be a customized process, allowing property owners to choose their preferred colors and patterns. Whether you’re looking for a sleek, industrial look or a vibrant, artistic finish, this flooring solution can be tailored to meet your unique vision. By consulting with professionals, you can ensure that your metallic epoxy floor is installed correctly and maximizes its longevity and beauty.

[overrboarrd]

roman reigns x black!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: mentions of alcohol and inebriation a/n: decided to go ahead and run this one back. let me know what y'all think!

—————

Acrylic nails mindlessly stirred the deep amber liquid in front of her. She would’ve opted for something lighter, but the aching in her chest begged to be pacified. Shoulders brushed against her in the confined space. The vibrations from the speakers that traveled from the wooden floor throughout her body was her oxygen; the only thing keeping the monstrous cage around her heart from caving in.

She exhaled deeply before closing her eyes. The burning sedated the dull pain, finally giving her what she longed for. Relief. Though the days would pass and her heart would yearn once again. Inebriation soon overwhelmed her, and whilst her mind was almost gone, her body governed her with ease. Legs carried her outside of the bar and around the rust brick building. Fingers fumbled around a purse for a few seconds before pulling out a slim rectangular electronic, the lit screen anticipating the truth that sat on her heart.

“There are countless things that are wrong with me. I’m flawed and-and fragile. Why would you want a glass case as a fiancé? As your wife?”

The impulsive phrase magnified their romance into a blooming estrangement, condemning her to almost two years of seclusion. Her chestnut irises rapidly moved across the device, searching for the one name that could do more than just temporarily pick up the pieces.

Roman.

Her eyes lingered on his contact photo for a few seconds. She kept everything; pictures, voice messages, brief notes that he’d written on random loose sheets of paper succeeding their most intimate moments. When they first met she didn’t take him as romantic. They had not-so-subtly been surprised with a blind double date after Naomi suggested she join her and Jimmy out skating.

————

She walked into the building fully believing that it was another night out with her favorite couple. She’d roll around for a while; then go head to head with Jimmy in air hockey at the small arcade on the side of the rink while Naomi cheered her on. Jimmy would pout and joke that she loved her more than him. The Rink was their old stomping grounds. She and Naomi would go every weekend during their school years. Beating him was second nature. After their 3 round game, she took a seat at one of the benches near the lockers; switching out her sneakers for crisp white skates. Her fingers separated the lace before grabbing the skate and slipping it on. As she got ready to head back on the floor, she overheard a rich, baritone voice engaging with the underpaid worker at the counter, causing her to look up.

“Um, I don’t think we have a size 15, but I can take a look. Give me a second.” The lanky teenage boy disappeared from the counter while the mildly annoyed-looking man rubbed his beard in frustration. She watched his jaw clench, slightly shaking his head. His large hands barely fit in his pocket as he pulled out his phone. Her eyes scanned his side profile. Handsome was an understatement. She didn’t need to see his full face to know that, yet he must have felt her stare. His eyes immediately locked with hers and she got to see the entirety of his herculean features. A small smile replaced the frown that was there seconds before. His once furrowed brows softened, lips parting as if he took in a deep breath. She held her gaze while a smirk graced her face. Eye contact only breaking when she noticed the worker coming back to the front empty handed. Not wanting to be on the other side of his, presumably, growing irritation, she finished tying her skates and stood up. A quick glance was shot over her shoulder, leaving the alluring stranger to his dilemma.

An 808 bass guided resin wheels along maple floors. Strobe lights danced in her eyes and euphoria pulsated through her veins. After a few more songs, she finally decided to join her abandoned party of two. Naomi and Jimmy were sitting on the benches on the opposing side of the rink, his arms wrapped around her while they laughed. She found it adorable, just as much as when the couple first met. They were the perfect match, and they never made her feel like a third-wheel on their outings. So she could only imagine how crazy her face looked as she walked back to their bench, finding the new addition to their party leaning against the wall to the left of Naomi.

‘Who the fuck is h-’ her eyes squinted ever so slightly before widening. Realization and confusion tangoed in her mind while the three finally noticed her heading their way.

“This is my cousin, Roman.” Jimmy interrupted her unfinished thought, standing up and patting his cousin’s back before walking a few steps next to his wife. She was sure her facial expression said enough. Naomi looked at her with raised brows and pursed lips, holding back a laugh. The man outstretched his hand, a playful gleam in his eyes as he watched her. Chills ran down her spine as she hesitantly shook it and introduced herself. He towered over her, the top of her head barely reached the base of his neck. Blackcurrant and ambergris cologne encompassed her. Being so close to him felt magnetic. A hardened glare was thrown Naomi and Jimmy’s way; they met it with two awkward smiles and a thumbs up on Jimmy’s end.

“Sorry for interrupting.” Roman cleared his throat. “I’m visiting for the weekend and my cousin invited me out with him.” A tight lipped smile graced his face, letting her know that he, too, had fallen victim to the couple’s antics.

“Seems like those two have quite the sense of humor, huh? Naomi said the same thing to me.” A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes finally meeting his. “You should’ve known it was a set up.”

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “And why is that?” His brows furrowed in the same way she had seen earlier, slight wrinkles sat above the bridge of his nose.

Her lips formed into another smirk. “How many skating rinks do you know that actually carry a size 15.”

Roman let out a laugh and captured his bottom lip between his pearly whites, a small dimple forming in his cheek. A genuine smile spread across his face as he shook his head, causing her heart to flutter.

“Believe it or not, I’ve never been here before.” He rebutted.

Her brows raised. “Damn, you don’t visit your own cousin?”

“Oh you got jokes, huh.”

“Jimmy really dropped the ball by not telling you that I’m a comedian.” she quipped.

The rest of the night was full of playful banter between the couples. An old school evening of ‘girls versus boys’ transitioned to the Fatu’s home, where the drinks flowed and old college stories left her jumping across the coffee table to cover Naomi’s mouth. Roman and Jimmy reminisced on their youth, from wrestling in the backyard to finally making it to the mainstage together with Jimmy’s twin, Jey.

The liquor’s lethargic aftermath seemed to hit the group simultaneously. Naomi’s legs were stretched across Jimmy’s lap, his hand rested on her thigh as she nestled against him. She caught herself watching them, perhaps a bit too long. It was then she noticed Roman’s arm around her, his thumb tracing small circles on her shoulder. She let her eyes drift close, embracing the newfound comfort of her unanticipated future.

—————

If only she had known the consequences of her insecurities then. He was so good. Not just for her, but overall. Selfless. Understanding. Patient. Though she pushed the latter to exhaustion.

‘Two years couldn’t have been that long.’ She thought, knowing that each month was its own eternity. Her fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over blue digits. Apprehension started to peek through the logical side of her brain, longing fought to steer her in the opposite direction.

Push and pull. Angel and Devil.

Lucifer convinced the cognac to play puppet master, and ringing soon flooded her ears.

Once.

Twice.

A few more times.

Then she hung up. Heart sinking to the pit of her stomach. The line between relief and heartache blurred. She pressed the small button on the side of her phone, locking it before opening her purse again. Her chest tightened and a lump formed in her throat as she fought to hold back her tears. Embarrassed. ‘Pathetic.’ She thought. Of course he didn’t answer. He probably changed his number ages ago. Why would he leave that door open?

Ring.

She froze.

He was calling back.

The screen lit up with Roman’s name, his smiling face staring back at her. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath catching in her throat. She could almost hear the ticking of a clock, like this moment held the weight of every second they’d been apart.

What if he’s moved on? What if he hates me?

Her chest tightened at the thought. But the weight of the last two years was too heavy, and the aching loneliness was unbearable. The liquor coursing through her veins urged her forward, whispering promises of fleeting courage.

Her finger pressed the button before she could stop herself.

“Hello?” The octave of her voice barely above a whisper. A long pause followed, she braced herself. There was a brief moment of shuffling before Roman decided to speak.

“Why now?” He answered, voice deep and groggy. Nostalgia engulfed her. She missed him. Her phone moved from her ear and she looked at the screen. 2:47 AM.

“I didn’t… realize how late it was...I’m sorry.” Her sentence dragged on longer than she intended. Shit.

“You’re drunk.” His tone was austere.

She hoped it hadn’t been too obvious, but Roman wasn’t fooled. “I might’ve had a drink or two. I just-”Her breath hitched. “I know... I know I fucked up.” Lucifer transformed from puppet master to a full on ventriloquist. A prolonged sigh followed by a slightly muffled ‘Fuck’ came from the opposite end of the phone.

“Where are you?”

“What?”

And for the first time in two years, her name left his lips.

“Where are you.” He demanded this time. Growing impatient with her lack of response.

She could hear him fully up and moving around. Keys jingled in the background, followed by a closed door and heavy footsteps. Those damn size 15’s . The Angel and Devil began waging another internal war. She could apologize for disturbing him so late, hang up the phone and never bother him again. Leave him, again. Or she could get left to her own devices. Allow herself to come face to face with the past that she destroyed. With the man that she never stopped loving.

A cranked engine pulled her out of her thoughts.

“I’m at club LaBelle.”

————

Another double shot of cognac found its way into her tremulous hand as she waited for Roman to arrive. Her body cemented in disbelief. He was on his way there. To her. She tried to prepare herself, playing out multiple scenarios in her head, but she was too far gone. Intoxication hijacked what was left of her partly sober mind. Her legs barely held her up as she sat on the barstool, turning to watch the sea of drunken people congregated together.

Then she saw him.

His jet black hair was tossed carelessly into a ponytail, much longer than when she last saw him. His height gave him an advantage over the crowd as he maneuvered through them, spotting her with ease. A full frown spread across his face, clearly irritated being around loud music and sweaty bodies at this time of night. Dark brows, complimented by wrinkles etched deep on his forehead, contrasted against his skin. She couldn’t read him. His eyes were empty as he looked at her, nodding his head towards the entrance. Wordlessly informing her that it was time to leave.

Not wanting to make the night difficult, she attempted to make her exit. Her head spun and heavy eyelids obstructed her vision. Roman followed not too far behind her. As they made their way outside, she stumbled, catching herself on the door frame. A long tattooed arm peeked into her peripheral vision. She shook the thought of him catching her out of her head. He had yet to say two words to her. She tried to regain her focus, eyes scanning the street for the familiar midnight black sedan.

“This way.” His voice came from behind her.

She turned her head to see him walking towards a black SUV. The headlights flashed as he unlocked the doors from the key fob. He opened the door for her, surprising her more than it should have. Roman was always a gentleman. She struggled to lift herself into the seat, limbs weak. Her legs swung into the vehicle and she let her head rest against the seat.

Roman watched her closely as she got in the car, closing the door behind her before making his way to the driver’s side. He followed suit, shutting his own door before looking over at her. Her eyes were closed, possibly in an attempt to sober up. The small button on the right side of the wheel lit up as he stepped on the brake, pushing it to start the car.

The silence during the car ride was overwhelming. Roman pulled the car in her driveway before shifting the gear to park. No one moved to speak first. Her eyes finally opened, head turning to look at him. He remained stoic. Face completely blank though his side profile was still nothing less than stunning. With liquid courage still lingering in her veins, her mouth opened to speak. “Ro-”

“Why now.” His voice reverberated off the black leather seats.

Her body tensed, finally understanding what he meant. . Emotions hit her simultaneously. Remorse. Love. Regret. Like that pivotal night years ago, it was, once again, all too much.

“I can’t right now Roman.” She slurred.

“Oh now you can’t talk? But your drunk ass can call me at 2:30 in the morning after not saying nothin’ for two years?” The betrayal of his true feelings finally spilled out of him. She watched his grip around the wheel tighten.

“I called you for weeks after you walked out and you never called me back. Hell, Naomi tried to talk to you about it in person and you dismissed her too. You completely erased me out of your life.” He continued, his voice carried as he briefly turned to face her.

A knife pierced through her chest. “I never erased you.” She swallowed back the taste of bile; not knowing if it was from her drunkenness alone or fear of it speaking for her

“You left.” The slight crack in his voice almost went unnoticed.

‘I had to.’ She thought. The words lodged in her throat fought to escape and her insobriety wielded the key.

The silence between them was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. Roman’s profile was as rigid as stone, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with every passing second.

“I love you, Roman,” she finally whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

His grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles white, as if her confession had sent another wave of anger crashing over him.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not after all this time. Not after I got down on one knee and told you that you’re the person I wanted to spend forever with.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the car. “You don’t just walk out on someone you love. You don’t vanish for two years and expect everything to be okay when you decide to waltz back into their life.”

“I know I hurt you—” she began, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“Man is this a joke? Hurt me?” Roman laughed bitterly, his eyes flicking towards her for the briefest moment. “You didn’t just hurt me. You left me, and for what, huh?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded. Her chest tightened further, guilt mixing with the alcohol in her bloodstream.

“I wasn’t ready,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I was broken, Roman. I still am.”

His gaze softened, but only for a second. “I never needed you to be perfect. I just needed you to stay.”

“Why’d you answer my call?” She challenged. “Why, after all this time, haven’t you moved on with your life?”

“Because when I said those words to you, I meant it. I never stopped caring about your wellbeing. I’ll always make sure you’re good.” He let out a heavy sigh, pulling into her driveway to park.

“I’m just not in love with you anymore.”

There it went; the cage around her heart.

Shattering. Piece by piece.

[brrbrina]

lonesome

pairing: joe burrow x oc

warnings: angst!

a/n : sorry it took me so long to write this one, i had the worst writers block, we only have one chapter left, feedback and support is always well received 😊

"All i´m asking you is to be honest for one time in forever, is it really that hard to do?" Aria said with a knot in her throat, she wasn´t completly sure how she ended up in Joe´s place, the same place she once called her home, but there is always something inside her that drags her anywhere near him.

She was looking for a bank receipt of the payment she made when she finally paid off her college debt, she was sure she packed it when she moved to her own apartment, but she couldn´t find it and she thought that it could be at her ex boyfriends house, so she drove all the way there feeling numb.

Parking in the driveway she saw Joe´s car and took a deep breath, still not sure of how he would look at her after the nigth they broke things off. After knocking on the door, a tall blue eyed blonde perked while he opned it.

"Aria... what are you doing here, is everything ok?" He said scratching his head and looking at her not sure on how to approach her.

"Yes, everything is fine, I don´t know where my college payment recepit is and i´ve looked everywhere at home and i couldn´t find it, i thought maybe it was still here in one of your folders" she said looking at him as he looked surprise.

"Yeah sure, um, you can check in the closet maybe it's up there on a blue box, go ahead" He said leading her upstairs to the bedroom they once shared, to Aria´s surprise he still had a lot of things she helped him bought when they moved in together.

Making her way to the closet she realized it was a huge closet, they never really payed attention to that since it was always full, grabing a little stair she always kept there so she could reach above the shelfs, she put the box on the floor and start looking, there were a lot of things there and she didn´t knew where to begin.

Clearing his throat Joe spoke "So...how's your mom and dad,?" Aria turned her head looking at him confused, "Uhm, they´re okay, thanks for asking" she said as she looked back not finding the stupid paper.

"So...""You really don´t have to do small talk, it´s okay it´s not akward" Aria said closing the box after not finding it, resining herself to just go to the bank and pray they could give them a copy.

"It´s okay you can leave it on the floor i´ll put it back up later I was about to..." his phone rang, not allowing him to finish his sentence. "Hi babe, no i´m not busy, what´s up?" He said walking out of the room and Aria was feeling the same way the night they broke up again, and then it hit her, Joe wasn´t in love with her anymore, there was someone else in his life, sleeping on the same bed she used to lay her head and dancing in the kitchen at night, someone wearing his jearsey to his games and kissing him goodnight.

The hard thing about love, in any form it may present to you, if someones falls out of if or they stop loving you, there´s nothing you can do, there´s is nothing in the wprld that could make them want you again, love fades, it just doesn´t disappear overnight, and the heartbroken part of it, is that no matter how much love you have for the other person, the best thing you can do is accept things and move one, no matter how lonesome it migth feel, and how long you would take to put the pieces they broke together again.

Making her way downstairs Joe stopped her “Aria, I know i was an ass by the way I ended things with you, I know no amount of apologies will fix it but I really hope we can stay friends or at least in touch, I owe you al lot and you help me achieve my dreams” Joe stated and Aria had watery eyes looking at him, and that was the first time he felt a little piece of him break inside.

“When did you start seeing her, was it when we were still together, sleeping in the same bed?” Aria said

“What? Aria what are you talking about” Joe said trying to look confused

“All i´m asking you is to be honest for one time in forever, is it really that hard to do?" Aria said with a knot in her throat, “Were you thinking of her when you had your hands around my waist?”

“Did you even gave a fuck about our relationship?” She said looking at him almost crying.

“Of course I did, I told you that multiple times, I didn’t even… I couldn’t” Joe couldn’t find the words to tell her the truth, he wasn’t seeing Ellie when she was still with Aria, and after the breakup he didn’t want to meet anyone but he did, and he feel in love again.

She looked at him as he was struggling to talk, but she couldn’t stand there and watch him try to come up with something, it was too painful and she didn’t want to be there anymore.

Making her way to the door Joe grabbed her arm and hugged her, she didn’t moved, there wasn’t a single thought running across her mind. “I’m really sorry things didn’t work out with us” Joe said mumbling to her hair.

He let her go, and she made her way to the car, she drove home and hope she wouldn’t feel this way forever.

It was around 11:00 pm when she started crying, but it wasn’t a cry because he missed him, it was a crying because he broke her heart worse than anybody had ever done, everyone left, if she fell in love with all her problems will they leave her too?

[davycoquette]

the interview 2/3

PART ONE

Gingerly stepping over Robert Barclay's stiffening corpse, I cross the kitchen to pick up the phone hanging on the wall. The dial tone buzzes, filling my ear like the droning of flies. Bile gurgles into my throat, and I hang up so I can swallow it back down.

I sink to my haunches, dropping my notebook and recorder. My fingers claw through my hair and I curl into myself. My mantra goes, "Oh, God. Jesus. Fuck."

A deep groan answers from behind me.

My heart launches into my mouth and I pirouette out of my crouch. I only manage to twist and land on my ass, then crab-walk a few paces from Robert Barclay’s corpse. This is the first good look I’ve gotten at his face. He looks like one of those wax figures in a museum, but on a day when the AC’s busted. His eyes stand wide open and his mouth is agape, resin teeth slanted like they're ready to drop out. One hand is stretched out toward me and the other is curled into his chest.

"Rob? Rob, are you…" Still in there?

It's gas escaping. Some crime scene investigator I talked to a couple years back mentioned this happened when we were gearing up for the interview. It always stuck with me, popping into my conscience intermittently. Death is embarrassing. It's always embarrassed me. I don't know why.

His body gives a little squeak and I gag.

I guess someday this is gonna be me. Maybe someday soon. This is why my momma calls all the time. She thinks I'm gonna overdose, and some jackass is gonna walk in on me stiff on a floor somewhere.

R. Barclay's sounds have attracted his little terrier, and it's sniffing around his face. I summon it away with a click of my tongue and put my hand out. It scurries over with its nubby tail going fast and licks at my fingers, and I scrub its saliva over the crown of its head before picking myself up off the floor.

Robert Barclay is one of those writers who’ll remain a household name. They already make you read one of his books when you're in high school. He's a 'great American' author, and I'll be the forgotten asshole who missed the chance to do his last interview.

If I just got here yesterday, I think. Or did he kick it yesterday?

I look at his little dog, and it sort of looks back at me with its beady eyes that skew in opposite directions.

"Where's your food at, baby?" I ask, and it turns in a tight circle. "Ready to eat? You want breakfast?"

More circles.

I start going through cabinets, but I'm met with leaning towers of pots and pans and plastic containers in each one. He can't have used any of this shit in years. Poor old guy's probably been living on crackers and buffet cafeterias. He never had kids. Never married.

Up until now, he'd been driving himself — I saw his Buick out front where I parked my Amigo. It was like any other geezer's car: beat up around the bumper. Grey, enormous.

The little dog tires of my searching and tap-dances over to a plastic bin near the sliding door where Robert Barclay has his breakfast nook. There's hard bread crumbs on the glass-top table, a few little ants scurrying up and down the wall.

I scoop some kibble out of the bin and deposit it in the dog's food bowl. It lets me check the tag on its collar while it's scarfing the little cardboard flavored nuggets down. Raisin. The name is familiar, I realize; the little author biography blurb I read when I took the job mentioned something about R. Barclay living alone with his dog, Raisin.

While Raisin crunches kibbles, I stand and lean against the counter.

"I was gonna ask if you were working on anything," I tell Rob's body. "And if you ever thought your books were gonna be required reading for schoolkids."

Raisin dislodges a kibble with a wet sounding cough.

"I was gonna ask who you like reading these days."

I scrub my hand over my forehead, rake my fingers through my hair. My hand drops and I stare down at him. "Who do you like reading these days, Rob?"

A clock above the sink ticks as I stand over him. I haven't done much else since breaking in apart from feeding his dog. When he didn't come to the door, I'd stepped down off the concrete slab of his porch to shield my eyes and peer through his living room window, and I could see his silhouette on the kitchen floor from the front of the house. His place is situated out in the countryside, not a neighbor in sight. He doesn't lock his windows, so I let myself in so I could use his phone to call the ambulance.

But there's no hurry. It's not like I want to spend more time than I have to with this unexpectedly stiff and cold version of Robert Barclay, but there's a little part of me that's irrationally concerned I'll be blamed for his death. I have to talk myself down from that ledge: you had an appointment. He's been dead for hours, at least. What motive could you have possibly had? I guess I'm already anxious about what Jason's gonna say; it makes everything feel like one grand conspiracy to ruin me.

I've got some pills in my Isuzu Amigo parked outside. Standing there with my hip leaned against R. Barclay's kitchen counter, I think I better go pop one or four. I'll seem more collected, less suspicious, when the cops get here.

…Will they send cops?

PART THREE

[tarnishedinquirer]

Fringefolk Hero's Grave 2

Here I am, back at the Fringefolk Hero's Grave. I'm stronger. I've got a torch and a spyglass. I'm wearing armor, thanks to a certain someone helping me take that mask off.

Though, to be honest, still not comfortable with my face. I think I forgot how it's supposed to work.

Looking from a distance at the handless woman, comparing her to the Erdtree Favor... They could both be earlier depictions of Marika, but I can't be sure. The Erdtree Favor looks a lot more recent, even if it was also in the distant past. If the statue was holding a vessel of some kind, she would've been holding it upright, rather than pouring it out. One removed of power, one removed of identity. I feel like I'm on the cusp of a discovery here.

This time, I looked around before crossing the bridge and noticed a ledge down below. No reason to antagonize the Grafted Scions, so I jumped down. There was nothing on the ledge, so I jumped down again, and landed in shallow water.

I took some stairs and then an elevator up, and found myself on a platform overlooking the chariot track. Unfortunately, I was not alone, as another of the red-clad Banished Knights attacked me with a halberd. By now I knew for certain that his techniques were of Stormveil. These knights must have served Stormveil at some point. So what was Stormveil's connection to dragons?

As the chariot raced back and forth below, I looked up, only to find several giant pots suspended from the ceiling. Can't imagine why they would be there. Some kind of failsafe, maybe? A way to take out the chariot if its creators couldn't disable themselves? That made sense. The magics to control it might be lost to time, but a giant exploding pot would probably do the trick in a pinch.

Took me until the last pot to get the timing right, but oh was it satisfying. I'd never have to worry about that thing again.

In the wreckage, I found an Erdtree Greatbow. That seemed odd... was the thing supposed to also shoot arrows at me? Was the artifact used as a power source somehow? Or was the chariot itself some sort of mobile reliquary? Impossible to say, considering how thoroughly I destroyed it.

Greatbow featuring Erdtree styling. In times of old, when faith and battle went hand in hand, this weapon was created in tandem with the Golden Arrow.

In times of old? FAith and battle always go hand in hand. They still do, if some of these gold-clad zealots I've met are any indication. Even when not led by fanatics, the faith is still used to oppress, like with Demi-humans and Misbegotten. My god can beat up your god.

This world keeps finding new ways to horrify me. When I entered the final chamber, I was expecting something like the chambers at the end of catacombs. This was similar to that, but instead of one mass of roots at the end of the chamber, enormous clumps of decaying bodies hung down from the ceiling like rotten fruit. The guardian was a creature like a gnarled root crossed with a snake, except far worse for how its cracked skin pulsed and oozed with unknown sickness. The voice called it an Ulcerated Tree Spirit. Was this in any way related to the Avatars? Perhaps their dark equivalent.

I found it was still as "holy" as its cousins, but rather than casting magic from its hammer-stave, it breathed fire like a dragon. Perhaps that's why I found a Haligdrake talisman on someone trying to flee. He must've thought it would protect him. It afforded me some protection, but nowhere near enough.

It took countless tries before I was able to read its undulating body language. Before I could tell a feint from a lunge from the thing just dragging its bulk across the floor. Halfway through the fight, it erupted into golden flames that did not consume it, only made it more dangerous to approach. I applied burning resin to my sword in hopes that like a tree, it would burn. It helped, but again, the creature was so resilient the damage increase was marginal at best.

Then I started using everything at my disposal. Picked turtle necks for stamina. Exalted flesh for strength. Aurelia as a distraction. I found that if I hugged its belly, it had a harder time hitting me, unless it decided to just roll over top of me.

Eventually, though, it fell, and I claimed my rewards.

Banished Knight Oleg. One of the two knights known as the Wings of the Storm. After his banishment, he attracted the notice of the Grace-Given Lord and later, having slain a hundred traitors as the Lord's hand, Oleg earned the hero's honor of Erdtree Burial.

First, this knight must've been Engvall's partner. Second, Engvall's ashes said that he was a hero of the fringes, yet Oleg is the one interred in the Fringefolk Hero's Grave. The one who rejected the Grace-Given Lord is in a tiny, waterlogged tomb on a rotten river, while the one who accepted him is buried in a hero's grave. The whole thing smacks of politics.

Finally, this "Grace-Given Lord." Godrick the Golden/Grafted was born in grace. That's basically the only thing he has going for him. A Grace-Given lord is one who was not born in grace but was rather granted it.

Conclusion: Engvall stayed watch over Stormveil while Oleg answered the summons. It's not a stretch to assume the summons was from Leyndell. Oleg distinguished himself fighting traitors, while Engvall died as a hero in exile. When Oleg died, he Engvall was stripped of his burial place and shunted off to a forgotten, disrepaired tomb, guarded only by a lone gladiator. Perhaps Engvall's master was one of the traitors, and Stormveil was the traitor's castle before Godrick took over? That would explain the disrespect.

Who is the grace-given lord?

What was wrong with this tree spirit?

Who was the former master of Stormveil, the one turned traitor?

When did Marika's iconography drop the ewer?

[cambridgeshireresinflooring]

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In conclusion, resin magic has the power to transform your floors into captivating masterpieces, and the collaboration with reliable flooring companies near you is key to unlocking this enchantment. As you embark on the journey of transforming your space, the phrase "flooring companies near me" becomes a beacon, guiding you to local experts who understand the nuances of your location and can infuse a touch of magic into every resin-coated surface.

[clockworkcrane]

Haurchefant Week 2023

Day One: Imagine 1270 Words - Rated T for Drunkenness & Pining (but it's pretty wholesome) They stagger home near sundown, a pair of newborn deer trotting through the darkened streets of Ishgard, their breath smelling of mulled wine.

Fortunately, the foyer of Fortemps Manor is empty when they arrive. The house’s occupants have long since retired to bed, and there are none present to pass judgment upon Haurchefant as he hauls the Warrior of Light down the corridor, singing a drinking song under his breath – or at least, the single verse he can remember of it, repeatedly.

Aramond mumbles something unintelligible, then scoffs and snickers to himself, resting his forehead against one of Haurchefant’s pauldrons. The sound is catching. By the time they reach Aramond’s chambers, Haurchefant is also giggling like a schoolboy.

“Shh.” The Warrior of Light bids him be silent with an air of utmost earnestness, which redoubles Haurchefant’s laughter.

They spill into Aramond’s room. Haurchefant unslings the other man’s arms from his shoulders, pouring him into the bed. It has been stripped bare, he notices, of most of the covers. The duvet lies in a heap on the floor, along with several pillows, leaving Eorzea’s champion with naught but a drafty sheet and a solitary place to rest his head. He does this with enthusiasm, burrowing his face into the cushion.

“Hold,” Haurchefant says, straightening himself as he wrestles back his laughter. “That will not do, unless you aim to suffocate in your sleep.”

“Mmhm,” Aramond replies, his voice muffled. Sighing, Haurchefant grabs him by the shoulder and rolls him onto his back with a concentrated effort.

Aramond reaches up and curls his fingers over Haurchefant’s forearm, pulling him closer. It takes Haurchefant a moment to realize that the other man is merely using him for leverage as he settles back down onto the mattress, making himself comfortable. The realization does nothing to dislodge his pounding heart from his throat.

“It is stifling hot in here,” he remarks, reaching for his gorget.

It is the truth. Although the Warrior of Light keeps the curtains tightly drawn to block out the sun, the space is hot as a furnace and heady with the scent of incense. It is the same scent that clings to the man’s robes: crushed herbs and resin. Haurchefant unclasps his gorget and removes it, letting the humid air cool his neck as much as it can.

“Helps me think,” Aramond mutters, peering up at him.

A fond smile tugs at Haurchefant’s lips. “And the complete absence of light? Is that also to aid you in your contemplations?”

“I see better in the dark,” Aramond retorts, giving him a rare smirk.

“That, my friend,” Haurchefant replies, not unkindly. “Is ridiculous.”

“If the dark and heat are not to your liking, feel free to retire to your own chambers, ser knight,” his companion grouses, tearing off one of his gloves.

Haurchefant says nothing, his protests snuffed like a candle. For he does not wish to retire to his own chambers so long as he is welcome here.

His eyes follow the arc of Aramond’s hand as it ungloves the other, noting the ink stains on his skin. His only callous hugs his right middle finger, formed by the frequent holding of a quill. How different from the roughness of Haurchefant’s palms and the pads of his fingers, smattered here and there with scars.

His head is still swimming with wine. He plants himself on the edge of the bed next to Aramond, swaying as he reaches for his own gloves. The cool air on his bare skin as he peels them off is a relief. He does not realize his eyes have drifted shut until the soft sound of Aramond clearing his throat snaps him back to attentiveness.

“Truth be told, I am still adjusting to the light and the snow,” the Warrior of Light discloses, looking past him, his hands folded on his chest. “The sun does not oft reach the Brume, and I never went further than the Foundation as a child. The climes were different then, as well. As you know.”

Haurchefant’s lips part in surprise. “You hail from Ishgard? Why have you never said anything? I offered you the drinking tour— you accepted--”

“I was hardly familiar with the local taverns before.” Aramond sounds bemused as he sits up, propping himself on his elbows. “I left when I was sixteen.”

“Still!” Haurchefant exclaims. “To think. All that time. I might’ve passed you in the street!”

Wincing, Aramond mutters, “Well. Not likely.”

He tilts his chin toward the ceiling, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Haurchefant tries and fails not to follow the column of his neck to where it disappears into the open collar of his robes.

“You would have had no cause to speak to me, if you had noticed me at all.”

The words are almost an afterthought. Aramond is still pondering the ceiling.

“I am fair certain I would have noticed you,” Haurchefant replies carefully.

Aramond lowers his gaze, meeting Haurchefant’s eyes. “I was nobody.”

“Nobody?” The knight scoffs, incredulous, shaking his head of silver hair. “You? Never. I would have seen you, just as I did at Dragonhead, and known you straight away to be a friend.”

He can see the skepticism on Aramond’s face as he lowers himself back down, sinking into the pillow. The Warrior of Light sighs lightly, closing his eyes. Then, the ghost of a smile passes over his mouth.

“I can just picture us,” he says. “A scrawny orphan from the Brume and a young squire of House Fortemps: inseparable companions… it makes for an unusual sight. Do you think we would have sparred often? Tracked mud from the Brume through the clean halls of Fortemps manor?”

Haurchefant leans forward slightly, his own grin broadening. “Without a doubt. I did that any number of times without having made your acquaintance.”

“It would have been attributed to my terrible influence, I’m sure,” Aramond muses.

“On the other hand,” Haurchefant counters, indulging in the fantasy. “I imagine we would have been at the books in father’s library far more often than I cared to be on my own, as a youngling. Knowing you.”

“I would have liked that,” the Warrior of Light laughs, his expression softening.

“As would I have,” Haurchefant confesses. His face feels pleasantly warm, and he is not altogether certain it has anything to do with the wine. “If it were with you.”

“Haurchefant.”

Something in Aramond’s voice makes Haurchefant’s heart flutter. The Warrior of Light’s eyes are still closed, his mouth still curved into a slight smile.

“I have never liked Ishgard better than I do in your company.”

Haurchefant dares to inch his hand closer to Aramond’s, where it has alighted on the bed. “Then full glad I am that we met, even if it was later than I would have liked.”

“For my part, I am glad that everything came to pass exactly as it did,” Aramond mutters, his voice growing softer, dwindling to a murmur. “If, in any other life, I had not chanced to meet you at all, then I… I…”

He trails off, leaving Haurchefant to wait on tenterhooks for his conclusion, only to realize it isn’t coming. For a moment later, the champion of the Light, the chosen of Hydaelyn, the savior of Eorzea, lets out a quiet snore and shifts in his sleep, burying his face halfway into his pillow.

Haurchefant’s shoulders slacken and he chuckles lightly, an overwhelming sense of fondness welling up in his chest at the sight. He stands, reaching for the cover, and pulls it up to Aramond’s shoulders.

“Sleep well, my friend,” he says.

[resinfloorings]

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[chiveburger]

don’t you hate it when you know you’re gonna fuck something up, and then you fuck it up in real time... just the other day I came home from work, and I wanted to reorganize all my resin bits and pieces. many of which are small beads and trinkets. so I noticed one of the boxes that held them was near the edge of my rolling cart, and I took a mental note to not be too rough with it because if it falls I’m fucked... and I knocked it over. straight up every miniscule bead naked to the human eye was now spilled over my entire floor. so I spent the next 10-20 minutes picking it all up and going around my whole room finding missing beads and I put it all in a big bucket that I left on my bed. then I made ANOTHER mental note not to knock it over and I FUCKING KICKED IT OFF THE BED!!!!!!!!!!!!  just today, I was lying on the couch and I had a can of beer right beside my laptop. my phone was charging beside it and I could visibly see the cord wrapped around the can, but as long as I didn’t pull my phone too close to me it didn’t jostle anything around... then I pulled the phone too close to me and I spilled pineapple flavored beer all over my laptop, and my laptop is already on life support so it’s like I took her off the ventilator with this stunt. long story short, I hate myself.

[atfoklahoma]

Get top-notch surface preparation and industrial flooring services in Midwest City, Enid, Stillwater, Norman, Oklahoma. We specialize in epoxy kitchen floor solutions for both residential and commercial properties. Contact us today. http://atfoklahoma.com

Get top-notch surface preparation and industrial flooring services in Midwest City, Enid, Stillwater, Norman, Oklahoma. We specialize in epoxy kitchen floor solutions for both residential and commercial properties. Contact us today. http://atfoklahoma.com

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