[ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ. ]

posyhawthxrne:

     Awkward. That was the word to describe the situation at hand. Why? Alex couldn’t say. He was a simple boy who knew very little on matters of the heart. Often, he was oblivious when it came to issues with others and would remind Posy that it was none of their business. But this? This was their business. Shifting his weight, feet sway him closer to his best friend.

          But was that all she was?

     “Pose? I don’t think he wants to hear it. Probably wants to catch up, y’know? Seems like it’s been awhile.”

     His tone implied that he should also take his leave, though he would wait for her to suggest it.

      ❝ Yeah, I'm fine. ❞ was all that could come out of his mouth. He hadn't     really expected himself to be affected by this newfound revelation; one she     hadn't even had to tell him or reveal to him. He was a man of the streets &     with that came knowledge, both logical and reasonable. He knew the signs,     from the way she contemplated her next move to the way this boy stood up     like a fabled knight, ready to rescue the damsel that was Posy Hawthrone.      In any other situation, he would have become that dragon for him to slay     but right now, it didn't feel right. Posy was too important to be fought over     & he wasn't going to make her choose something that didn't need to be. 

                  ❝ Uh, nah. Sorry --- didn't know you were busy. I'll just come     back some other time. No big deal. ❞                                             & with that, feet turned as he began to head out     of the door he never thought he'd have to leave. 

posyhawthxrne:

     The squeeze was met, forearm flexing as he gripped with a handshake that would have his dad tipping his hat. The graph only remained until Posy came rushing down the stairs and the country boy released the newcomers hand, as if burned. Glancing toward her, he nods, lips pursed and brows lifted. ‘Met’ wasn’t exactly the word to describe their crossing of paths. 

     An unsure gaze flickers between the two before Alex steps aside, shoe-less feet bringing him to the wall so he doesn’t literally stand between them. It’s impossible to tell who this boy is or why he came to Posy’s house, but one thing was clear: Alex didn’t like it.

          He's confused & he [ rarely ] gets confused. He's an assesser of situations,              a man who's seen and known the harshness of this world up close so he               knows how to read things. For the first time in quite some time, he's not sure              what exactly is going on and to be quite honest, he's not even sure if he wants              to know at this point.                                    Nevertheless,                                            the hand is dropped as Posy comes into view                                            & for a moment, he could swear that his heart                                            skipped a beat. 

                                            ❝ Uh, yeah ---- why wouldn't it be? ❞              And that's when he notices. She has his clothes on ---- he's never seen that              on her before & by the way the other is sizing him up, it's become clearer than              he'd like it to be. This is no family member & him being here isn't a chance              meeting. Now the question begged: how close were they? 

                            ❛ we may look easy pickings                                                      but we’ve got some bite ! ❜           canon & modern au | private & selective | written by aaron | art cred.

     A glance over his shoulder towards the stairs before attention was returned to the stranger, door opening more in invitation. He has no idea who the boy is or what he wants, but he’ll let Posy handle it, with himself nearby, of course.

          “Yeah, she’s upstairs. I’ll take you up… —I’m Alex.”

     And with that he extends a hand to shake, preparing a firm grip.

            Maybe he was more family or something --- it wasn't like he knew          everything about his best friend. Hell, could he ever call her that anymore?          He'd been gone for such a long time; what were they now? Did she still...           He wasn't going to think about it. Instead, with small strides, he found himself          moving into her home; the one he'd played in and crashed at more time than          he could even remember. 

                         ❝ ... ❞          Perhaps, there was a bit of hesitation as the other male greeted him, looking          at the outstretched hand before his own gripped it & squeezed probably a bit          too hard. Oops.

     It’s nothing unusual for him to be so comfortable within her house. The other boys, being too lazy, ignored the knock and Posy, in the bathroom, called out, asking for him to get it, thinking it to be Hazelle, needing help. He’s no doubt equally surprised to find a boy, no older than himself, on the porch. Closing the door some, he lifts an eyebrow.

          “Nah, she’s still here. Can I ask who’s askin’?”

          It was a bit awkward, to see another guy answering the door for Posy              & it wasn't like it was one of her two brothers. This was someone new,               someone's he's never met before & he knows that she didn't really have              other friends their own age ----- so that begged a simple question:                                         ------------- who was he?

                     ❝ Um, Gavroche's the name. Is she, uh, here? ❞

chiaroscuro. the art of shadows and light.

     a long time, indeed. a really long time since      the two friends had spoken — even seen each      other. there’s a moment where posy stares in      surprise, recognising the familiar voice, that      same smile —— where has he been?

          but then she’s running, wrapping arms around           him in one quick, breathless movement.

               ❝ gav! ❞

     ❝ --- that's me. ❞

           it was in his blood. whether he fought or he fled,                he'd always be that one to run away --- no matter                what. he was a fighter through & through and he'd                protect his own until his dying breath. the minute                he began to live for himself, however, that was                 when he broke. he wasn't meant to be happy                & with each passing second, he remembered this.                                 but, right now, it wasn't about him.                                       it was about the one knocking the breath out of him.

                                            ❝ i'm fragile, flower girl.                                                                       i'm getting old, you know. ❞

the-northremember:

                                                ◤ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ. ᴍᴇ. ɪ·ᴍ. ғᴀʟʟɪɴɢ. ◢