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[trouvxilles-blog]

kiss.

(v.) touch with the lips as a sign of love  sexual desire, reverence, or greeting.

( 3 / ? )

too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say “it lightens.” sweet, good night. this bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet (romeo & juliet, act ii, scene ii)

1. safe and sound - tonight alive

and it's all because of you, and I don't know what to do. i'm falling in, i think i'm falling in love with you.

2. stars falling down - kina grannis

so, when i open my eyes, i saw it, too. stars falling down, and i fell for you.

3. all about us - he is we feat. owl city

take my hand, i'll teach you to dance. i'll spin you around, won't let you fall down.

4. paperweight - joshua radin & schuyler fisk

happy to lay here, just happy to be here. i’m happy to know you. play me a song. you’re newest one. please leave your taste on my tongue.

5. kiss me slowly - parachute

hold my breath as you’re moving in, taste your lips, and feel your skin.

@disthant​

[trouvxilles-blog]

kill.

(v.) put an end to or cause the failure or defeat of (someone something).

( 2  / ? )

these violent delights have violent ends. and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume.

the sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness and in the taste confounds the appetite.

1. cigarettes - russian red

‘cause i’m wasting time, now i’m wasting money again on all the cigarettes that i have never smoked.

2. make you love me - us the duo

will you put the cigarette down so we can talk ‘bout how far we have drifted?

3. intertwined - dodie clark

i’ve pinned each and every hope on you. i hope that you don’t bleed with me.

4. fade - the narrative

and drinking is no excuse, but it’s an easy one to use when lack of self-control has left you making poor decisions for yourself.

5. poison & wine - the civil wars

you only know what i want you to. i know everything you don’t want me to. oh, your mouth is poison; your mouth is wine.

therefore, love moderately. long love doth so. too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. - (romeo & juliet, act ii, scene vi)

@disthant​

[trouvxilles-blog]

hiatus.

sorry for the inactivity sfkfsndjsj

i’ll be back eventually soon

in the meantime !! catch me on TWITTER, if you want !!

[trouvxilles-blog]

moonbled:

when he’s not on a broom, baekhyun is clumsy. he’s a mess of uncoordinated limbs and sometimes uneven footing that would easily cause him a faceplant to the ground or two. so perhaps it’s the alcohol running in his veins that grants a burst of energy for the male to evade jeonghan’s attacks, toeing his shoes off before stepping into the fountain to retaliate.

“what would be the fun in that?” his mind feels clear, vision suddenly sharpened. blood thrums in his ears and in his veins. he feels alive for the first time in months. he ought to thank whatever force that brought him to this party, to meet jeonghan again, to find his lost youth. it’s like he’s back to being eighteen again, young and ready to face the world. not twenty-two and dying from the mundane daily life of a heir.

but in the end everything has to come to an end; they’re not alone, and if someone finds them there acting like a bunch of children both of their reputations would be ruined. to be honest it’s not like he cares about his anymore, but the other male got into where he is now with hard work and baekhyun doesn’t want to be the reason behind it’s undoing.

so he rolls his sleeves and steps out of the fountain, still with that huge smile on his face. “okay, okay. wine it is. but we’re not leaving until it’s empty.” slumps by the fountain, letting his back rest on the concrete wall. he pats the vacant spot next to him. “and that means we’re going to share this equally because both of us has a lot of things to tell and forget. starting from you.”

all things considered, jeonghan wouldn’t mind being caught. after all, he’s merely a voice on the radio. a popular one at that, but it’s not like he has any image left to tarnish. the thought of baekhyun, on the other hand, makes jeonghan’s hands come to a halt. hands are waved in an attempt to dry dripping water. he shakes his head, hair slightly damp from where he didn’t manage to evade the other’s playful advances. the life in the public eye must be... fun. jeonghan would know, but not to the same extreme extent.

a sigh makes past his lips as he lowers himself onto the ground, back against the cold marble. his fingers immediately find their way around the neck of the bottle, on instinct. he twists the wine open, and as it does, his attention falls back onto his friend with wide eyes. “ah, shit,” he mutters, unexpected. talking before thinking - a talent, truly. he’s caught off-guard because, really, he has no idea where to start. does he even have anything to share?

“tell or forget?” he echoes contemplatively, raising the bottle to his lips because, well, if he’s starting, he might as well push forth with some liquid courage. it’s no veritaserum, but it’ll do. the company and the ambiance definitely helps, unlike back in the academy, where the potion constantly makes its way to unknowing hands. jeonghan grimaces at the thought, having had one too many confessions about his cousin that caused quite an irrational stir.

“well,” he begins after a gulp - a large one. “i miss veo, for one.” his voice lowers a bit, and so do his hands. it takes a few before he hands the bottle over to his friend, grin finding it rightful place back to jeonghan’s lips. “and... i’m kind of seeing jongup.” he pauses then with a light chuckle. “or something like that. surprise? ha ha. your turn.”

this town.

[trouvxilles-blog]

kismet.

(n.) destiny; fate.

( 1 / ? )

from forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

1. the moment that it stops - the narrative

i’ve always been fine on my own. (i thought that you were growing tired of always feeling alone.)

2. please don’t say you love me - gabrielle aplin

please don’t say you love ‘cause i might not say it back, doesn’t mean my heart stops skipping when you look at me like that. 

3. burn the night away - there for tomorrow

by thinking of the simple things you say to me to get me through the day, you keep me wide awake.

4. los angeles - katie davis

i’m falling in, i’m falling in-- love is a word that we don’t say.

5. say it now - the afters

don’t wait, just let your heart speak. don’t waste another heart beat.

@disthant​

[trouvxilles-blog]

disthant:

“your own eyes say otherwise, terry.” kiel raises a brow in mock suspicion, accompanying the gesture with a upward tug of his lip before teasingly dodging the other’s advance. “but anyway, yes.” our room shamelessly registers as theirs for a second or two, only for him to then realize he very well meant him and lance. their house, their bed. singular. is that how it works here? fuck.

they find three when they actually get there, a silent victory playing in his head as he studies everything else at first sight. it’s adequate enough for three boys, he assumes. not that it’s exactly safe to do that, but he doesn’t think it’s so good to ask either. eyes scan the walls for any accolades soon enough, baby pictures being his actual target of interest when he dares himself to step in further. there’s ty first to the left, lance over on the right. puck even, all three of them sharing the same old smug grin in their respective pictures. more or less.

kiel learns he’s right about terry when he finally finds his picture in their midst. it’s not in him at all to see that they’ve looked alike in their younger years - a smile far wider doesn’t register anywhere near familiar to what he’s grown up seeing in his own mirror his whole life.

he smiles back. at the picture, and then the present. terry is what’s of the picture now, a tired version simultaneously envisioned and recalled from moments before.

“do you have any more?” kiel focuses back on the wall, head tilting to the side in awe as he gives each frame a once-over again. “pictures, i mean.” one at a time, he figures. stories could wait in the weeks that follow, in that same flow. preferably a year’s worth of weeks. 

who the fuck knows?

he leads the way, hand at his sides. a very peculiar feeling, the lack of warmth between his fingers. kiel seems distracted enough by the photos carelessly pinned and framed at whatever space was left available on their wall that terry takes his opportunity to quietly - as quietly plastic bottles full of pills can be - grab whatever the fuck is displayed atop their wooden drawer, forgotten due to routine. except, schedule aside, terry doesn’t take them regularly, anyway. it fucks him up - an excuse. a valid one, he likes to believe.

“uhm,” he starts, shoving them into the top drawer, under piles of t-shirts, some he doesn’t remember if it belonged to him or lance specifically. not that it matters. “not really?” half-truth or half-lie, depends on how anyone looks a it. a perfect opportunity to take out a change of clothes for the both of them. “you’ve seen most of them in the living room.”

the ones that matter, anyway.

lance’s graduation photo - high school and university; terry, too - high school, an extra frame ready once his dreaded university ones arrive; a family - all six siblings; puck’s first steps, developed, taken by lance’s old, shitty digital camera.

“we don’t like to waste film,” he adds, fully aware they’ve been using lance’s digital camera for years until they had camera phones nice enough not to take grainy pictures. he’s not in the mood to reminisce about shitty memories. most of the older photos are tucked away in the basement for a reason - fiona as an only child; their mom carrying ty in her arms; ones where puck wasn’t born yet; wedding photos - an absolute joke. they’re useless by now. no one in this house wants to see them.

terry’s tone turns somber. he hopes kiel can take the hint, at least.

he throws both set of clothes at the end of his bed - a twin bed, wide enough to be comfortable for two. then again, who the fuck cares? terry has been sleeping literally on top of kiel for weeks. he shrugs off his hoodie, at the same time kicking off his shoes. he hangs his extra skin hoodie on the back of a nearby chair, leaving him in a black tee and ripped jeans. terry walks over to where kiel stands, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist from behind, pressing his cheek against the other’s back.

“there’s really nothing to see.” his voice is muffled by the other’s shirt.

i don’t want to look at them ever anymore.

terry think he’s revealed enough sob stories simply by existing

[trouvxilles-blog]

I don’t just want to take your breath away. I want to rip it from your mouth and keep it locked away between my teeth. You can only have it back if you kiss me again.

Meggie Royer, Literary Sexts (via wordsnquotes)

[trouvxilles-blog]

🍒

i honestly thought i could go through all my drafts by tonight, but i have overestimated my own power. rip. anyway, going on a trip this weekend. will be back monday. see you guys soon! fare thee well.

[trouvxilles-blog]

I’m coffee at 2:00 am, I’m 100 mph down the highway, I’m the guy in the leather jacket brooding in the corner, I’m the guy your mom warned you about…but I’m also the guy she hopes you end up with. Because I’m bedtime at 10:00, up for work at 6:00, works hard for you, and treasures you. I am the conundrum of danger and responsibility existing together.

thatwisebeardedguy  (via wordsnquotes)

[trouvxilles-blog]

moonbled:

a hearty laugh escapes easily, baekhyun had to hold back his voice from getting weird stares from the passerbys. “you’re right, you’re right. liquid courage, right?” maybe he can learn a thing or two from jeonghan–maybe he could try his method and maybe he can numb himself up from everything the world has to throw at him on daily basis. in this turn of events, it’s a curse to feel something so deeply. “i’ll keep that in mind, though.”  

the fingers around his felt grounding, as if it was a weight that will keep him on his feet instead of getting carried away with the current tempest brewing in his being. and baekhyun needs that. he’s this close to breaking down and bawling like a baby on the streets. 

the next words that comes felt like an arrow to his chest. chanyeol’s words repeating itself again and again in his head. would jeonghan lie to him? their friends never lie. they tell it like it is. and jeonghan is probably the closest friend he had after jongup. but chanyeol doesn’t lie too. he wouldn’t lie to him. “i-i know.” he supplies a smile, hopefully one that’s believable enough to be genuine. “i miss you too! i miss this a lot. us.” eyes shifts to their hands clasped together–hoping it’s real and genuine and not made up like his fiance said.

for now, he let himself believe.

the shop catches his attention and suddenly memories come crashing down. laughter, tears, anger. their friendship wasn’t exactly the most normal ones but they still manage to work in such a dysfunctional dynamic. baekhyun wonders if perhaps it’s their similarities as a bunch of ‘mongrels’ that sticks them together. “i miss everyone too. veo, ven, amelia, bran, jongup, nat, seungjun, kris…” his voice trails off for a moment. “adulthood is shit, huh.”

jeonghan didn’t expect the names to be laid out so easily, a list that has unknowingly grown over the years. with each name comes a memory, easily playing like a movie reel, memories he’s stowed away in a treasure chest at the back of his mind. baekhyun found the key. what jeonghan never expected, however, was the pathetic impending waterworks. by the time the last name falls from his friend’s lips, so do the tears.

he has to stop in his tracks, free hand wiping the tears with the back of his sweater. “fucking merlin,” he mutters breathlessly. his heart feels like it’s about to break free from the confines of his chest - or shatter. whichever comes first. either way, it hurts. jeonghan knows he looks like a fucking idiot, sobbing in the middle of the street. to outsiders - muggles - it might even seem like baekhyun just broke up with him. the breaking part is right - jeonghan is extremely heartbroken.

“i miss everyone so much.” his voice cracks. someone once deemed strong - a lazy ravenclaw troublemaker - is breaking down in front of his former house senior. suddenly the misery sets in, a long time coming. “adulthood is fucking shit,” he echoes.

as a divination ace, he should have seen it coming. but there are just some things too terrifying even for him, ones that he wasn’t - and never will be - ready to face, like the future. five years. they’ve made it, but at what cost? “je suis vraiment désolé,” he exhales, but he manages a breathless chuckle, and a smile despite tear-stained cheeks. “look at me. i’m a mess.”

[trouvxilles-blog]

disthant:

“tsk, outside world. shut the fuck up,” he groans, throwing his arms loosely around the other’s neck before getting him to do the latter anyway on his own, lips pressing together in a quick succession and series of many. “exclusive means exclusive, asshole.” he tangles his hand in his friend’s hair, combing out the knots carefully as he looks him in the eye. “you really should miss me, though.” another kiss, soft to the corner of his mouth. “in my entirety.”

kiel hoists his legs up then, knees up in mid air as he closes his eyes and allows terry to linger in his hold. their breathing falls quiet again, lips quivering at how surreal everything seems here and now. he remembers the way they were just weeks ago, pushing and pulling with the whole “sleeping together” thing - never even really like that. somehow he’s thankful it’s this way. but a shaky sigh comes through nonetheless, a hard gulp ridding the knot in his throat at the thought when he lets his fingers run through uneven strands one last time.

“anyway, you any good at the whole ‘kiss me like there’s no tomorrow’ thing?” he teases after a while, eyes half-lidded when he snaps out of his momentary daze. “because,” he continues, flipping the other onto his back, sneaking a kiss into the crook of his neck as he hovers over. “that is, a little what i’m here for.”

“i will. jesus.” a scoff, playful. “oh, ye of little faith.” he cups the other’s cheek - or more like squishes them between his palms until the other’s lips form into a small pout. “i’ll do nothing but miss you, probably.” he pauses, noses brushing. “in your entirety. but also i might put up a welcome home cheater sign in front of my house for when you get back.” hypocritical of him yet again, but he’s working on it, the whole exclusivity thing. but same toothy grin is ever present to match the familiar glint in terry’s bright brown eyes - reserved for him, and only for him.

there are more jabs ready to be thrown when his back hits the mattress, and he blinks up at the other in obvious surprise. terry’s arms find their way around kiel’s neck, lithe fingers threading through the other’s hair. he returns the question, “are you?” only to add, with a breathless laugh, “you know i would have done that in the shower if you asked me to.” jokes are half-meant, he guesses. but he gently pulls the other down, raising his own chin to close the gap between their lips. a hand moves to settle on the crook of the other’s neck, pulling him closer.

every kiss is a silent message: please stay. i believe in you. don’t forget about me. i’ll miss you. i already do. i’ll see you soon. we’ll make it. i love you.

[trouvxilles-blog]

May the 4th be with you!

[trouvxilles-blog]

disthant:

“fine’s my forte, i think.” the f in fine actually stands for front anyway. basic. “just hoping you can manage, too, really.” he stretches his arms upward, hands settling on the other’s shoulders as he squeezes them reassuringly. “you’re a lot more tense here than you’d think, you know.”

he doesn’t linger, however, hands finding purchase in settling on terry’s hips before he tilts his head in contemplation. his fingers drum over the hem of his boxers, slowly crawling up upon bare skin with the lightest touch. just to see if terry flinches. or sinks in. either one. “i’d say text me,” he says quietly, slipping his hands into terry’s own before gently dragging him down. lower, lower, lower. “but we both know how that goes.” a click of the tongue happens then, right hand curling around his nape to press their foreheads together.

“how much will you miss my voice, though?” his lips graze over the other’s, deliberately so. “in person.”

a click of his tongue. “great, then,” he corrects himself. “you’ll do great.” he shrugs the other’s hand off his shoulders, bottom lip jutting out to form an unconscious pout. “when have i ever been not tense?” finally, he admits. hypocritical, really, how he tells kiel to chill all the time when he himself has absolutely no chill. he’s just better at hiding it for the sole reason that he has to.

speaking of tense -- 

he flinches, tensing up before a light shudder makes its way up to his shoulders. sensitive to featherlight touches on exposed skin, terry loathes being ticklish - kiel sure as damn hell knows that, at least. he grabs both of kiel’s wrists, pins his arms down over his head and against the mattress. “fucking stop.” only a tinge of irritation present in his voice, his soft expression and the way his hand moves to lace their fingers together give him away. “and,” he emphasizes then, usual grin making its way to his lips. “i have credits now. did i forget to tell you? i probably did.” he pauses, eyebrows knitting in contemplation. “but, is that allowed - contact from the outside world?”

a breathy laugh escapes him, nose brushing against the other’s. “not much, really.” a quick kiss, but lips linger as he adds, softly, “kidding. obviously. don’t makeout with anyone for ratings.”

[trouvxilles-blog]

disthant:

“nation’s heartthrob…” kiel snorts, weighing that phrase on his tongue before leaning forward to kiss the other’s nose and tentatively owing the smile. it’s more of a reassuring gesture than anything, the best he can offer here and now. “if you could sing, that title would be yours in a heartbeat.” he quirks his right brow all while staring dead into his friend’s eyes, just to prove his point.

some prince and the pauper bullshit this is.

“but anyway, big break. i don’t know if it counts? it’s actually - more of a reality tv type of thing.” both brows are furrowed now, grimace clear at how ridiculous that sounds finally coming out of his mouth. he’s never actually come to terms with it happening until now, making a mental note to himself that it’s not even that far away from today. packing up and leaving and all, excess formalities in between. “which means…”

which means - a long, fucking time. sans terrence yoon. sans kissing. sans the one thing that keeps him up at night whether they’re physically together or not.

then again, that being said - maybe he’ll get adequate sleep once this thing launches. jesus.

“dunno. i never asked.” he clicks his tongue in disdain at himself, lips pursing tightly in thought. slight regret. “i’m hoping a month, honestly.” this earns a clench of his jaw, hand curling into a fist against the other’s chest as he thinks about it some more. tries to, at least. doesn’t, really.

he doesn’t want to. he’s not sure why he agreed to it in the first place.

we weren’t like this when i did say i’d do it, he feels the need to admit. terry should know that much.

i like this. i prefer this. i want this. us.

“hey, who said i couldn’t sing--” he stops himself, eyes narrowing as he recalls something. “oh yeah. me.” but he smiles back anyway, moving closer to press their foreheads together. “but it counts. i swear. if talentless assholes can make it big via a reality show, then you, someone with actual talent can, too. alright?” a quick pause, just for reassurance and some semblance of dramatic effect. “alright.”

the time frame makes his heart clench painfully. he stops breathing, gaze lowering - to the other’s lips, the blankets, anything. he zones out, just so the other can’t see the nervous shaking of his pupils. he’s not really good at hiding it. but he does take the other’s hand, away from his chest and against his lips, kissing the other’s knuckles before uncurling his fingers. “that’s not... too long.”

it’s really not, except maybe to him. to them, if terry can believe their whole relationship - whatever it is at this point - isn’t completely one-sided despite the impulsive, and unexpected, confession just minutes prior. he pushes himself up, rolls the other over onto his back so terry can sit on top of him, trapping the other’s hips between his thighs. the view is great from here, he decides. no wonder kiel does it so often.

he leans forward, hair falling around his face. “you’ll be fine, babe.” he thinks it’s funny how easily he can shift from dude, to an actual term of endearment, then back to dude again later. “i mean... i’ll watch you whenever i can.” through a television screen - he can’t even say that part out loud. he has to wonder if his reassurances are for kiel or for himself. either way. it’s not working for him.

“i’ll have things to keep me busy while i wait.”

[trouvxilles-blog]

eldorvdo:

seyoon has to resist the urge to whine when terry pauses the video, far too interested in seeing how it continues than he probably should be. but then again, he’s never seen anyone do that before - not that he watches a lot of gay porn to begin with. maybe he’ll have to from now on.

“i’m here to ask you an english question. and maybe i did knock and you just couldn’t hear me over all that moaning?” he smiles, knowing that his friend probably feels a little embarrassed to be caught doing something like this. seyoon would be too if it had been the other way around, but it’s not that big of a deal to him. it’s an interesting sight to see. catching terry with his hands down his pants would have been worse, but still interesting nonetheless. “thankfully your hands are where i can see ‘em. though i wouldn’t blame you if they weren’t. i mean–” he motions briefly to the computer screen and laughs,” that probably gets a lot of people going. don’t know if i could try that myself, though… i’m not flexible enough.”

with another glance at the screen, seyoon moves over to sit on the edge of the bed, sighing and leaning back on his palms.

“anyway. what does seu-kwil mean?”

“an english question,” he echoes - a statement, not a question. so maybe seyoon did knock and he didn’t hear, but to be intruding on someone watching porn just to ask a question? seyoon just made terry lose his momentum. not that he had one to begin with considering his hands were clutching the desk instead of his dick - thankfully. but that is beside the point now.

“don’t worry, dude. i’ll be the one bending over backwards for you,” he teases, too casual, as he swivels in the worn-out office chair to face his friend. the video, though, only earns a score of half a boner, but that’s only probably because terry’s already had one too many tangible dicks in the last year alone. on-screen dicks do nothing for him now.

terry tested out of english - twice. once in new york, and once here in seoul. but that word does not seem familiar to him at all. “seu...” he begins, leaning forward to make sure he heard correctly. “...kwil?” his eyebrows furrow at this, weighing the word in his head and tongue. “seu-kwil?” he repeats, more to himself now, leaning back against the seat. “seu...kwi...reu... dude, do you mean squirrel?”

a snort of amusement, regardless if he’s right or not. “if you do mean squirrel, lemme just say i didn’t peg you as a furry.” hands up, palms open. “no judgement, though - a lie. half-judgement. actually, you know what? full judgement.” 

[trouvxilles-blog]

🌝

[trouvxilles-blog]

─ Copy this post into a new text post, remove my answers and put in yours. when you’re done, tag up to ten people and tag the person who tagged you.

tagged by: @atomicvein (ty my dude) tagging: @opcque (jiyeon) @moonbled (ansel. use him.) @moxle​ (ricky) @haebxtna​ @yeonhas​ + anyone who wants to do it & who hasn’t !!

A - AGE: “twenty-one.” B - BIGGEST FEAR: "losing any of my siblings.” and heights. C - CURRENT TIME: “5:17am. sleep is a social construct.” D - DRINK YOU LAST HAD: "uh. water. too early in the week to get shitfaced, i guess.” E - EVERY DAY STARTS WITH: “tanya yelling for our asses to get the fuck out of bed, and then computing how many more minutes i can sleep in without being late for training and class.” F - FAVOURITE SONG: “do i have one?” he hums in thought. “i’ve been listening to early sunsets over monroeville a lot lately. i know, i know. old song. but i still love it.” G - GHOSTS ARE THEY REAL: "sure. i mean - why not, right? better not to fuck with that kinda shit, though. just in case.” I - IN LOVE WITH: “i don’t know. some asshole named kiel sang.”

K - KILLED SOMEONE: "i don’t... think so?” L - LAST TIME YOU CRIED: “i don’t remember.” he thinks about the last time he’s gotten low enough to burst into tears. a week ago? “... yeah. i can’t remember.” M - MIDDLE NAME: visible cringing. “oberon.” his eyes shut tight as he lets out an agitated breath, fingers curling simply from having the name slip out of his mouth. “fucking christ, mom.” N - NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: “five. a whole lot, huh? house feels like an earthquake sometimes.” O - ONE WISH: “for everything to be... okay.” a bitter smile. “just okay. at least.” P - PERSON YOU LAST CALLED/TEXTED: “called quinn. texted kiel. he hasn’t texted back, though? i don’t know if the message went through.” drafted, probably. he didn’t double-check. Q - QUESTIONS YOU ARE ALWAYS ASKED: "something along the lines of... why i would want to join the military. i mean, i don’t anymore - well, no, i mean, i still do. i just won’t. oh, and also if they can touch my hair. not sexually, even. it’s baffling, man.” R - REASONS TO SMILE: “seeing my siblings every morning, meeting up with my cafe family. getting my fucking paycheck to survive another week. and, uh. kiel. just. in general.” i guess. S - SONG LAST SANG: “dude, can you fucking believe i managed to play some mayday parade song on the piano? it’s called stay. listen to it.” he laughs breathlessly, mostly at himself, adds as an afterthought, “can you believe i played the piano? and yes, i did sing along.” T - TIME YOU WOKE UP: “around 9:00am? since i don’t have rotc anymore.” U - UNDERWEAR COLOUR: “...black?” he looks down, tugs at his pants lightly to check. “gray.” V - VACATION DESTINATION: “santa barbara.” a soft sigh. “or, i don’t know. anywhere with sand, surf, sun, sea water - a beach. i miss the beach.” W - WORST HABIT: "ah, shit.” he lowers his head, hair falling at the sides of his face as he shakes his head. “where do i start? i’ll settle on not sleeping enough. or at all.” X - X-RAYS YOU’VE HAD: "a few. probably, like two. or three. weird childhood.” and adulthood. Y - YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD: “i’ll eat anything as long as it doesn’t have pickles. but, you know what? i really love mac and cheese, and chicken pot pie. what the fuck, right?” Z- ZODIAC SIGN: "libra. they say it’s pretty accurate, too.”