every trace of you {tris + dars}

every trace of you {tris + dars} Sept 7, 2015 7:39:40 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Sept 7, 2015 7:39:40 GMT -5

These evenings are getting unpredictable. Her sheets are laced with memories of best friends and stolen nights and she's washed away the latter a hundred times, scrubbing every trace of him out of her life. He has poisoned her sanctuary with regret and rage so she filled it up with the one person she truly cares about night after night. Addison is the only soul she would ever spill her heart to but lately she finds herself holding back and letting go without any explanation and the guilt consumes her. They used to tell each other everything. They used to share their worlds and make their own for just the two of them. Now she lies awake at night with secrets stitching up her mouth and wonders if she'll feel any better spilling them to her whilst she sleeps at her side.

An elbow at her cheek, a knee in her waist, Addison has always been close to her and at night her figure takes over Pyrite's bed and makes it's stand. Mine, she seems to say without needing to be awake. They fall asleep with smiles on their faces and arms around each other and Pyrite has never felt safer. She is Addison's, and Addison is hers, and that is a truth they will never keep from each other.

It seems, however, that Addison will keep sleep from her best friend. It's 2 o'clock in the morning and constant movement from the eldest Devereaux daughter jerks her awake as she glides towards sleep, pulling her back into reality. She's gotten used to barely getting any sleep from the guilty pleasure that slips in and out of her window without a sound. Some nights they are nothing but shadows dancing against walls, inclines of desire falling short of breath. Other nights they exchange sharp words for small smiles and laugh into their sheets. It is a game of chance and luck with no prize in sight - a game she's tired of winning. She looks to the window and shivers at a ghost of a silhouette - but the glass is shut tight and all she can see is the moonlight above.

"Addy!"

No answer.

"Addy, roll over damn it!"

Addison murmurs and falls still.

By 3am she gives in. Silent steps fill the room as she leaves her best friend to sleep with a kiss on her forehead and a smile, falling into the familiar pathways of her home. She will spend the early hours with coffee and a book, watching the sun rise at her windowsill and let it wash the thoughts of her midnight lover out of her system. She shouldn't have to remind herself that the only love she needs is from the girl that lies in her bed. She shouldn't want to hope that the boy of stars and silence wishes he were in her best friend's place instead.

every trace of you {tris + dars} Sept 11, 2015 16:08:28 GMT -5

Post by umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars] on Sept 11, 2015 16:08:28 GMT -5

♛ K E L L A N F R A Y ♛
crawling back
to y o u

What was he doing?

What was he doing?

What was he doing?

He asked himself this when he remained awake n his bed. He didn't like sleeping anymore. She was always in his dreams and, damn it, he didn't like it. Before Pyrite Shore he didn't even have dreams, pardon the occasional one of him standing on a stage with gold wrapped around his skull and blood dripping from his hands. These weren't dreams about glory or rewards. These weren't dreams where he overcame obstacles and won the prize. Because, for fuck's sake, Pyrite wasn't a damn prize.

She was more than that.

No, these were those stupid cookie-cutter dreams where they held hands and kept each other close to fight off the frozen world outside their windows. Fire crackled in the hearth and they laughed and had normal, stupid, boring conversations. That wasn't what he really wanted, right? He wanted more out of life than to settle down and live like any other person in the world, right?

So he refused to sleep. He refused to even close his eyes.

What was he doing?

He asked himself again, when he walked silently through the streets of District One. What was he doing? What was he d o i n g? He was enjoying the night air, of course. He was breathing it in and staring at the darkness as he walked, and nothing more. Just clearing his head, right?

But what was he doing, he wondered, sneaking in to Pyrite's window?

He'd gotten rather good at being a sneak over the years, though as of late he was not particularly proud of it. There one minute, gone in a flash, no proof that Kellan Fray had ever been there in the first place. That was the thing, though. Rather than running away, he found himself staying to fight. And she was there, sleeping away with her entire form buried under the covers. She was always like that when he woke up in the morning and did his disappearing act, always hiding as if afraid to admit she was weak enough to ever need sleep.

What was he doing? He asked himself again, but he already knew the answer. Slowly and carefully, he walked over to her and placed a kiss on her head. The dark obscured everything except her ravenous hair. "I'm here," he whispered, leaning down and placing another kiss on her forehead.

What was he doing?

Fuck, he thought. "I'm falling in love."

She awoke without saying anything and the kisses started again. She was different somehow, more excited, more open. He didn't know why but he found himself a bit disappointed. Actually, come to think of it, he was not entirely sure the girl he kissed was Pyrite Shore at all, even though he couldn't see her to be sure. "Pyrite?" he asked, squinting his eyes.

Then from the corner of his eye came the answer he was looking for. Standing in the doorway with a horrid expression was Pyrite Shore, which meant the girl underneath him was... was...

"Addison?! What the fuck?

What was he doing?

Making a fool of himself.