She finds herself sitting across from a man who she does not recognize. He’s tall, his back ramrod straight, and his fine, black hair brushes against his broad shoulders. Green eyes—the color of the forest she’s so fond of—flicker to the right before settling on her again. Nervous. A warm feeling begins to grow within the pit of her stomach and she finds that she hates it just a little bit. But why? The corner of his mouth curves upwards in amusement; almost like he can clearly read how she’s feeling. She stares. She stares and stares and stares and waits. This is a game she cannot, no, will not, lose. Finally, he cracks. His voice is rough, barely above a whisper and she can practically taste the regret that falls from his pretty lips.
“Are you ever going to forgive me?”
PNXMBRA : noun | pen·um·bra | \pə-ˈnəm-brə\ something that covers, surrounds, or obscures Synonyms: dusk, shade, shadow, umbra
The beginnings and ends of shadow lie between the light and darkness and may be infinitely diminished and infinitely increased. Shadow is the means by which bodies display their form. The forms of bodies could not be understood in detail but for shadow.
"Have you gotten shorter?" From Anthem.
The voice from beside her has her pausing before she lets out a small huff. Recognizing the timbre of the other, she turns and allows a small, but playful scowl to grace her features. “Hello to you too, Anthem. Nice to see you. How are you? I see you still remain freakishly tall, yes?” Glancing up at him, she shakes her head. “Since you asked oh so nicely, I have not gotten shorter. I am the same height I’ve always been. Thank you for your concern though.” Giving a light laugh, her scowl transforms into a small grin. “Really though, it’s nice to see you again.”
✧✧✧✧✧
REVERSE THE HAND OF TIME AND BEGIN AGAIN
Anonymous asked:
I hope you are doing well. -C.H.
I am. Or at least I’m trying; time hasn’t been so kind to me, but I’ve been making the best of it. I can only hope that you’re doing the same. [`offers a soft smile;] I do hope that we can cross paths again someday, but until then know that I think of you often.
erxsus reblogged
— - nonsensical misadventures
From the start, the almost blood-fuelled distinction of STEM students from the rest of the majors is explicitly drawn out from superior facilities to the overall worshipping treatment the STEM crowd receives. Admittedly, Jaebum secretly enjoys the blatant favouritism and he will never spill the beans on how he gets a kick out of awed and dismayed looks others throw him once he discloses his major. But it was his mistake to lull himself into a false sense of security that he won’t be as exposed and peer pressured into the party hard social culture of college. Even the other nerds like him want to get a taste of bubbles and shoving their tongue down someone’s mouth, whereas the very idea of going someplace with loud trash music is more than enough to repulse him from stepping a foot out of his room.
Misfortune mischievously tinkers with his luck by pairing him with a roommate who is his polar opposite. But he was pleasantly surprised that his roommate is originally from Korea which provides a rough foundation to mutually bond over with. Still, he detests mixing up with the obnoxious wild crowds of students slurping down booze till they knock out and he cannot believe that it is in his luck again to have the worst of his nightmares fumbling around in his dorm room. He kept himself guarded from any warming female contact because of his past trust issues and he has yet to be educated on the technique of dealing with university level girls - especially drunken crying ones who invaded his privacy.
“What do you mean you can’t help it?” internally cursing at himself for naturally sounding harsh and accusatory, he desperately racks his brains for a solution to calm her down. As if his feet suddenly have a mind of their own, they guide him to his closet to fetch his broom and he uses the broom to tentatively pat her shoulder comfortingly. “Uh… I mean if you tell me the reason why you are crying or why the hell you are in my room - ah whatever. You probably don’t remember anything, do you.” crouching down in front of her, he holds out his cheap contact lens case that he kept handy although he rather die than swap his glasses. “What kind of stupid drunk logic is that? It’s not like you are popping your eyeball out. It’s just contact lenses and no, I do not wear them but I do wear glasses so anything optometry doesn’t freak me out. Do you need help though. I don’t want you to actually pop your eyeball out. I never used this contact lens case before, so you can dump them in there.”
Unable to believe his ears, he stares at her incredulously as he plays with the broom in his hands as he resists the innate urge to glare at her because he doesn’t want to deal with another crying outburst. “I am the person whose privacy and work rhythm you disrupted. This is my dorm room which you barged in and I still don’t know how the hell you managed but…” then it dawns on him that she is curious about him since her brain is too foggy to comprehend the seriousness of the situation. “Oh. You want a basic introduction? Im Jaebum, freshman computer science major and I was working on my mid-term projects until you…” with another sigh, he cuts himself off before grabbing one of his roommate’s pillows to offer it to her since her neck is at the most awkward angle that makes his own neck itch. “And who are you or did you already set your reputation as the crybaby drunk girl?”
Now sitting cross-legged in front of her, he glumly rests his chin on his palm as he examines her state. “You look terrible and I am guessing you are the pushover type since you clearly do not know how to handle your liquor. Still, you should learn your limits and be more sensible. Don’t give into people otherwise you will turn into an alcoholic in a month and you don’t want to be crashing other guy’s rooms…” grimacing at the thought, he ponders on how to get her out of his room without any rumours flying around. “And you know that you can’t stay here forever. My roommate will be back in a few hours and if he sees you in here…”
This carpet really sucks. The carpet really sucks and her thoughts are a jumbled mess. A tiny part of her brain is aware of this and is practically screaming at her to get herself together. God, she really is a mess, isn’t she? She a crying, gross mess and the small part of her that is sober is wishing that she had the mobility that would allow her to jump out of the window that she came through. What a way to put an end to her misery; jumping out of the goddamn window and praying that she wouldn’t completely fuck herself up.
The tone that the other uses to address her has her jolting back to reality and she can’t help but flinch. It’s reflex, honestly, and she had thought she’d managed to get rid of it, but the alcohol is really messing with her. “I mean what I say.” The words have no bite to them, to her dismay, and she continues to wipe at her eyes. And oh fuck, she swears she feels a lens shift in a not-so-pleasant way. Casting her gaze down towards her feet, she’s content to just stare at them until she feels something brush against her. Even in her state of inebriation she manages to compute the strange sensation and she jerks away in thinly veiled disgust. “A broom? Are you petting me? With a broom?” Turing her full attention to him, she swats at the offensive item. “I may be... drunk, but I am not drunk enough for this.” Making a shooing motion she quickly looks away again. “I remember things just fine... I was crying because you scared me.”
Sensing his presence in front of her, she tenses at the proximity before scowling. “It’s not drunk logic, it’s true.” Sighing, she takes a deep breath before slowing exhaling through her nose. “I can take them out by myself, thank you. I’m not a total incompetent.” Gingerly taking the case from his hand, she turns to the side and unscrews the dual compartments. Quickly taking out her lenses, she slips them into the case and closes them. She doesn’t turn back to him, instead choosing to remain turned away from him.
The scowl comes back as he begins to talk again and god why does he sound so angry? It was just a simple question wasn’t it? She’s about to snap back, but stops when he actually offers a sufficient and somewhat non-condescending answer. “Jaebum, huh?” Furrowing her brows, she leans her head against the wall. “Mid-terms? Ah, I suppose you’re a bit of an... over-achiever... STEM probably... makes sense...” The last part is more of a whisper to herself as her brain attempts to work through and categorize this new information.
A pillow comes into view and, still adamant on not making eye contact, she mutters a soft thanks before flopping onto her side. Fluffing the pillow a bit, she curls around it and gives (what sounds like) a scoff. “You’re rude.” It’s an observation, not a question. “I’m Star.” She doesn’t offer anything else; her childish way of getting back at him.
“Wow. You must really be popular with the ladies, am I right?” Rolling her eyes, she rolls onto her back, bringing the pillow to rest on her stomach. “Thanks for the lecture. Now your angry face will pop up into my mind whenever I reach for alcohol.” Closing her eyes and grimacing at the mention of stumbling into other people’s rooms, she slowly rolls back onto her side. “I guess I should... thank you for being... not too much of an asshole then. So, thanks.” Her cheeks flush red in embarrassment and she steels herself before opening her eyes again. She’s self-conscious without her contacts on and her gaze quickly flickers to the side. “I know... I’d call my roommate, but she’s... somewhere with someone. Who’s your roommate, by the way?”
Anthem holds a small box with a bow just out of the short females reach. "I don't know if you deserve a present. Or my yearly Christmas card."
Christmas has always been a confusing holiday for Star. She wasn’t raised in religious household and, until recently, never had the opportunity to truly figure out what it was exactly. Still, she had managed to get the gist of it; cold weather, family, friends, food and gifts. The gifts had been the most puzzling part. She remembers Ren handing her a small wrapped box, one that somewhat resembles the one that Anthem holds within his grasp. Her lips curl into a small smile as she raises a brow at him. “And why is that? I’ve been good all year long. In fact...” she places her hands on her hips and offers him a grin, “you’ll be happy to know that I have managed to stop myself from committing some atrocious acts of murder.” A pale hand comes to make a stopping motion. “But wait! There’s more! I even offered to cover some shifts for one of my coworkers even though I despise him. Doesn’t that alone make me more than deserving of a present or card?”
( SMS ): I'm not convinced. If you can (and succeed) enumerate plausible reasons as to why I deserve being called that - only then will I shut up with my denial. ( SMS ): Being a little shit then telling me you miss me... How contradicting.. Well, I wouldn't have desired to leave if you weren't so busy being a little, little shit. And you're still being one. ( SMS ): Yet I seem to be doing a bad job flattering you. ( SMS ): You keep calling me a jerk; this is probably your third or fourth time.
⟨ sms delivered ⟩ hmmm... i’ll let you think about it for yourself ⟨ sms delivered ⟩ i should’ve warned you that i can be a paradox at times... however, i wouldn’t lie about something like that so, take it as you wish. as for being a little shit, i have no excuses besides that fact that it’s amusing ⟨ sms delivered ⟩ i thought you were supposed to be good at flattery. what’s wrong, clyde? cat got your tongue?⟨ sms delivered ⟩ i’ll amend my previous statement then; you’re a (somewhat) handsome jerk. still a bit of a jerk, but a handsome one.
erxsus reblogged
