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centvr:
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an eyeroll is all malik gets in response to that before caz is moving across the room to retrieve his own shirt from the floor ( more for something to do so he doesn’t STARE and make things awkward ; the arrangement is simple & straightforward for a reason ). a gentle hum escapes him as he pulls out his phone again, the screen remaining dark as he uses the surface to fix his hair into a more reasonable state of neatness. he takes his time ; out of the corner of his eye he can tell malik needs another minute or else anyone with eyes will be able to figure out exactly what they’ve been up to. ( or perhaps not : people’s proclivity to believe straightness is something he’s been vastly grateful for on more occasions than he would like to admit ). “ i’ll pay if you want — ” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile as he pockets the phone. it’s not like an extra twelve dollars is going to even come close to breaking him. “ gotta eat. ”
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he makes a quick move to transform himself into someone who doesn’t look like he’s been up to what he just has, clothes flung on haphazardly. unlike caz, he doesn’t bother with his hair ━━ the unruly curls not far off his typical appearance anyway. ❝ really ? it’s been a while since i was wine and dined. ❞ he jokes, finally pushing himself off the bed. he steps a little closer to caz, fingers adjusting a hair that’s remaining stubborn despite all his efforts, ❝ there you go. better. ❞ he nods with a small grin. ( he prefers the more rugged look on him, personally, but it probably isn’t exactly restaurant appropriate ). he reaches behind the other to grab the door handle, unlocking it ( because god knows nobody in this house has learned how to knock ), ❝ you ready ? ❞
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carlsonfm:
* 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 ╱ malik montero
he’s somehow made his way into the clemont house , winding his way through the house and making it up to the library . it’s practically his birthright to be surrounded in this atmosphere - his middle name an homage to fitzgerald’s work . before he knows it , his fingers are sliding to his back pocket , pulling out his phone ; the urge to send a photo to his dad taking precedence over anything else . the sound of the shutter audibly strikes around the room followed by a flash . “ fuck - ” and if he hadn’t drawn attention to himself he has now , his eyes meet a familiar face as he tucks the phone back into his pocket , grinning guiltily over at malik , “ SORRY , man . didn’t mean to DISTRACT you from whatever you were doing . ”
the library conveniently located within the clemont house had swiftly become malik’s favorite haunt ; in fact, he probably spends more time within its walls than he does his own bedroom. in typical style, he’s nose deep in a novel ━━ admittedly, it’s completely irrelevant to the work he should be getting along with, but he’s allowing himself the distraction ( for now ). eyes heavily focused, he jumps at the sudden noise, peering over the glasses that have narrowly slid down the bridge of his nose to source where it’s coming from and instantly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. of course. he smiles, genuinely, and places his book down. ❝ it’s cool. i was just finishing up anyway. ❞ he shrugs, not entirely truthfully, ❝ you looking for something ? can’t say i’ve ever seen you sneak in here before. ❞
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centvr:
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: @maliksfm
caz stands at the foot of malik’s bed half-dressed, focus more on his phone and tending to the six notifications he’d gotten while they were doing their extra-curricular activities. but malik had been getting his FULL attention for the past twenty-five, so fair’s fair. he dismisses the last one, finally depositing his phone into his pocket in favor of running his hand through his hair in an attempt to neaten it from its mussed state ; he’s only slightly successful in that regard. his shirt is missing, still curled into a messy heap by the door, the absence of fabric revealing shifting muscle under skin and proving the beginning of the season has treated caz very well. ( perhaps the fact he isn’t scurrying to grab it and hurry out betrays the fact this hasn’t been the first time ). there are responsibilities to get back to, though fewer now on the other side of the mid-term week, and for once, caz is loathe to jump right back into them. he finally casts a casual glance over at malik, a low rumble of his stomach practically giving away the question he’s going to ask. “ wanna grab some food ?? that italian place off main is never busy this time of night. ”
cheeks still flushed as he regains his breath, malik lies practically sprawled over the covers ━━ fingers blindly searching for his discarded t-shirt ( if he’s slightly distracted by the sight before him, despite the time they’ve spent together, he won’t willingly admit it ). the question piques his interest, reminding him that he hasn’t actually eaten anything since breakfast. ❝ you paying ? ❞ he grins playfully as he finally pushes himself to sit up, legs swinging to ground his feet. this arrangement they have probably isn’t helping either of them, the sneaking around, but there’s a sort of unspoken understanding between the two ━━ it works. ❝ i could go for italian, yeah. beats the all-night study session i had planned. ❞
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* 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 : 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚘.
━ statistics.
full name: malik javier montero. nicknames: mal. gender & pronouns: cis male & he/him. birthdate: august 27th. zodiac: virgo, aka, hard-working, patient, critical, & over-thinking. major: psychology. housing: clemont. physical features: 6ft 1, athletic build, no tattoos ( his parents would k*ll him ), dark curls, brown eyes, freckled, typically seen wearing glasses when reading.
━ history.
malik is one of five montero siblings, falling into position of eldest brother. eldest child had been a spot initially claimed by his twin sister, hana - but only by a few minutes, as malik had grown accustomed to reminding her for the duration of their childhood. the two had been like peas in a pod for, well, their entire life. as much as they loved their siblings, malik and hana shared a different bond; they were entirely inseparable to the point that some people believed them to have a telepathical connection. that was until hana got into an accident and ultimately passed away shortly following their fifteenth birthday.
the loss of his sister really did alter his entire life. for years her name became a somewhat taboo subject; simply at the mention of his sister his mother would grow pale and excuse herself, his father furious at the culprit. grief was something you had to experience alone, something that should be bundled up and buried deep within for nobody to see - and malik tried. he tried to swallow the seemingly permanent lump in his throat, tried to continue on while simultaneously ignoring the glaring hole in his life, tried to push until there was nothing left.
as much as his sister’s death was something to be kept hush-hush, his parents certainly weren’t afraid to weaponize it against him. his depression was labelled selfish, his poor grades were nothing against what hana could have achieved, ultimately he would never live up to the life they dreamt she’d lead. it meant that malik felt a lot of weight on his shoulders - not just of their expectations for him, but the lingering ghost of their expectations for her -- and as much as malik knew that it what ridiculous, it stuck with him. pretty much everything he aspired to be was rooted in who his sister could have been. so he took her place as the eldest son and took his siblings under his wings, offering them the support he knew they would never get from their parents, what he had always wished he could have had as a kid. he studied long and hard, his passions a mere side hobby compared to his need for success. he applied to college to study psychology; not quite medicine, as his parents would have liked, but respectable enough to keep them off his back. that’s how life was, and somewhat still is, for malik - constructing himself to be the picture-perfect son, to make up for what they lost.
when college came around, the lines between what was real and what was pretence quickly unravelled. without his parents breathing down his neck, he felt more comfortable to explore who he was outside of his parents expectations. i’d say he’s still discovering that.
━ personality ╱ headcannons.
malik’s first year at halston was ... wild to say the least. he’d never really even partied before, so it was like a whole new world to him that he quickly became intoxicated by. he experienced his first real hangover, experimented with drugs, skipped a class ( the horror ! ). his first year was also where malik really began to discover his sexuality; with his first same-sex hook up. he very much knows now that he is bisexual, but it’s something he keeps hush - especially from his parents.
he’s settled down for the most part now, and is investing more time into his studies. he applied to live in clemont partially to keep himself on the right path, but mostly because he really does hold high expectations for himself and wants to succeed.
there’s no harsher judge of malik than himself - yep, he’s even got his parents beat on this one. although he’s gotten better at letting loose over the years, he’s not really learned to go any easier on himself. he pushes himself super hard; academically, in the gym, with pretty much anything he involves himself in. to an extent it’s admirable, but most are probably wondering just how close he is to breaking point.
malik has a lot of time and love to give. he’s 100% the best shoulder to cry on after a long, hard day. as busy as he might be, he will always make time for somebody ( bc u never know how long u will have them there ... brb off to cry )
malik never really had any real help with his grief before college, where he finally started seeing a counsellor in junior year. his survivor’s guilt still weighs heavy on his shoulders, but he’s on the road to recovery.
he has a huge love for music; he has played the violin and piano since he was tiny and has stuck with it to this day. i imagine if there’s a college orchestra, he’s in it. music and sport are his main coping mechanisms; whenever he’s stressed you can either find him listening to music in the courtyard or on a run.
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