fucking flint

               ❝ ——- marcus flint. ❞ his name sounded like a jumble of                high-pitched ADMIRATION from her lips, eagerness in her                eyes as she realized just who she was seated beside at the                bar. it had been years since she had seen her former house-                mate, && odds were, he probably didn’t remember her.                there was a CONSIDERABLE age difference between the two.                 though the witch ignored that, acting CONFIDENTLY as she                 spoke.  ❝ how honored am i to be sitting next to witch weekly’s                hottest bachelor of the month. ❞ blonde eyebrows raise as she                takes a sip of her firewhiskey, mocking && praising him all in the                same sentence. smooth ( or so she thought )

pls give me “we’re exes who ended on kind of shitty terms but are trying to ‘stay friends’ anyway, and we occasionally sabotage each other’s dates, get drunk and fuck, scream and fight until four in the morning and still refuse to acknowledge maybe we’re not quite as over each other as we like to think we are.”

       a  PALE  sky  outside  &   no  sign  of  life.  even  the  WINDOWS  had  started  to  betray  her            or  so  she  believed.   spoon  carefully  twirling  in  her  cup,   their  lives  had  become  a  PRISON.  trapped  inside  four walls  with  a  person  either  of  them  DIDN’T  want  to  even  look  at.     what  happens  when  you  put  two  METAL  vessels together ?    ( unwanted clanks. )  that  is  what  their  MARRIAGE  had  reduced  down  to.  both  so  YOUNG           &  one  pair  of  eyes  full  of  dreams  now  impossible  to  chase  after.

             she  didn’t  expect  much  from  him.   maybe  one  or  two  FRIENDLY  conversations.  one  smile.   one  moment  of  WEAKNESS.  after  all,  they  were  to  spend  their  lives  together  ( till death do apart )         might  as  well  TRY  to  make  it  BEARABLE.   however,  this  answer  of  his  just  reminds  her  of  the  TRUTH  of  their  relationship.   there  was  no love,   no care,  just  sharp  JABS & SQUABBLES.     she’d  nod  at  the  statement,  avoiding  eye  contact.

         ❝    trust  ya ?       THAT’S NEW    …              I’d  love  t’  make  it  easier for  you.  ❞ 

              then  she’d  attempt  to  evade  the  negativity.  ( probably try to talk ?  )    chocolate  hues  would  glance  towards  paper  in his  hands.   voice  strong  yet  uneasiness  peeks  through   its  cracks.                   ❝   oh                 &  what  does  tha’  NEWS  say ?    ❞