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have you ever been rejected?
⠀ ❝ no? ❞ ⠀
#yeah he has#a reminder that he was a loser <3#i mean he still is but#Anonymous#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › answers .
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send me “have you evers” and I can only reply with “yes” or “no”
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have you ever lied to noah?
“no.”
send me “have you evers” and i can only reply with “yes” or “no”
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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞, @oldnorths ( ft. a playlist inspired by noah hwang )
#IM STILL LISTENING TO THIS PLAYLIST#AND THIS GRAPHIC IS SO BEAUTIFUL#AND GOD I'M SO HAPPY RN#iM SO BLESSED
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the setting: any time from before strathmore, noah’s either in russia or florence, unknown.
the scene: noah singing with excitement the song from blue’s clues while he checks whatever mailbox he’s beside, you can hear the happy “we just got a letter ♡ wonder who it’s from! ♡”
the letters: dear noah,
the response: dear eliot,
@elicts
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status﹕ closed, for @rosegm location﹕ kitchen. <3
* ˛ A SPOONFUL OF cinnamon toast crunch is brought to his lips upon rose’s arrival into the kitchen – accompanied by unsweetened vanilla almond milk in lieu of the milk that’s usually left in the fridge. the corners of his lips tick up at her, an attempt to let her know that he’s happy to see her. for most of his trip, he’s spent it with his head down, shifting his gaze whenever he’d happen to be in the same room as someone else; he’s always been a sort of loner anyway, finding comfort in the time spent alone. the pages always seem clearer, the sun shines a little brighter – the world seems to move a little softer when it’s just him; most people seem to drag the sun down a little, pull in the clouds when they don’t mean to. noah doesn’t intend to mark other beings as burdens, but for the duration of the trip, so far, he’s looked at everyone with a little more disdain than usual, a little less heart than usual.
he had intended to spend new year alone, after all, attending the party reluctantly, getting tangled in a hallway and making yet, another mistake. noah didn’t expect much from his peers, or from his seniors – but the tourmaline is as kind as she is observant. rose had given him a glimpse of normalcy on a vacation where everyone was desperate to pretend everything was alright; he was grateful to be treated – maybe as just a friend, not a prodigy. rose’s company is welcome by him, then, as he finally ventures out of his room for breakfast instead of bringing it back to his room. ⠀ ❝ góðan daginn, ❞ ⠀ he greets her, jokingly dropping icelandic – his smile widens for a moment before almost dropping. ⠀ ❝ how’re things? ❞
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status﹕ closed, for @gvrnets location﹕ indoor pool, the deep end.
* ˛ HE MESSED UP. which shouldn’t be a surprise to him at this point; twenty two years of this, noah has made a mistake or two at every single branch in the road. take the road less traveled, he’s always heard, but the path with lesser footsteps often leads to bandaged fingers and violet rimmed eyes. he feels like a fool with the inability to learn, the refusal to pick up on his mistakes, the stubbornness written into his bones denying him the pleasure of moving on from his faults. now, there’s a lesson to be learned in every mistake – the world tells him – there is something to take away from each lesion that scars upon your skin. it isn’t as if he’s always looked at the world with wide eyes, either, the darkness in his hues have never been laced with the stars in the sky or the honey stolen from the sweetest of gods. he doesn’t possess doe eyes, big with wonder and naive in intention; he has seen the very worst of the world and cradled thanatos in his lap ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ no, he knows what the roads offer and he still finds himself with his foot in the trap.
when he finds hollis, noah is worse for wear – evident in eyes rimmed with a rose tint, a flush of pink across the tops of his cheek, it matches the tip of his nose. though, he turns toward his opal with a half - hearted grin. with his feet dipped into the heated water, he scoots away from the edge as the senior garnet approaches and noah manages another smile, though his lips fall before he can even attempt to pretend that he’s alright. he isn’t. he assumes it’d be best to not even hide it at this point, a strange feeling overcomes him when he hears in the back of his mind that maybe he doesn’t want to hide it from hollis. he’s spent so long being independent, weighing his feelings evenly atop his shoulders instead of lending them to the hands that’ve been outstretched to him. rose gave him the first taste of it, perhaps he would want to find it more often. ⠀ ❝ hey, ❞ ⠀ he starts softly – he isn’t a fan of the way his voice echoes sadly around him. ⠀ ❝ uh – i hope it’s okay, can i ask you about something? for some advice. ❞
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𝐬𝐦𝐬 › 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞.
jolie: you talked about new moon vs eclipse for ten minutes straight which i found way more compelling
jolie: now that i think about it you did mention something about a cap but you could've been referring to headgear
jolie: how about this if you don't find it by tomorrow we'll go buy you a new one
noah: i was right and i stand by it. in new moon, you get the most accurate monologue of depression that most movies will never show you but in eclipse, jacob never has his shirt on – it's a tie, practically. the only thing those movies don't have is the scene where edward saves bella from tyler's car and then he just hops away.
noah: anyway
noah: i have money i can buy one i just don't wanna get out of the chateau because one of the opals always ends up tagging along
noah: i got stuck on the ski lift not once - but TWICE with the opes.
#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › sms .#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › joliejenks .#is this noah speaking or is this a self insert.#you tell me.
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𝐬𝐦𝐬 › 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞.
noah: we spoke on nye right
noah: if we did, did i happen to mention where i last placed my swim cap haha
noah: i can't find it please help me look for it i don't want the chlorine to ruin my hair i just dyed it :(
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── 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞﹕ ofginevra
✺ ─ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ? 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐄 , or to deliberately withhold information ? rather , when looking at two wolves in the eye , with one’s bite will be more gentle ? skin will be pierced either way , no matter how many times ginevra may wrap herself in bandages , cover wounds with clothing and call them healed ─── there is always a scar left behind by her own corrosive behavior , too many lies have been told ( and secrets kept , even without reason ) for ginevra to call herself good without her voice breaking over the word like lips curling around blasphemy . she is not one to discuss her own morality , nor is she one to discuss much at all ─── if omission is a sin , ginevra ought to be on her knees , begging for repentance just for a chance at salvation conceded by divine mercy . she lies through silence , lets others believe what they will and draw conclusions from a look or a pause ─── let them be the guilty ones if they come to believe something ��untrue , let it be their fault for misreading her rather than hers for ripping the pages out . yet noah looks at her now , even in silence ─── and she knows that he knows her too well to fall prey to her lies . the ’ i’m fine ’ that ginevra writes in the stars by failing to explain that she is not , dismissed by one with a telescope in hand who already knows how to trace the constellations . he is as observant as she is , something that had initially drawn them to each other when eyes met in an italian bar ─── something that comes back to haunt her now , when a hum and a shift in conversation tells ginevra what she would rather not hear . he has seen the best and worst of her , he looks upon the image she presents to practically everyone else and calls her a liar . ❝ you too , ❞ ginevra echoes , at his wish of a happy new year ─── if he truly wishes her happiness , he is more merciful than ginevra would give him credit for . a silence settles , momentary , as ginevra wonders how to answer his question ─── she does not dwell on resolutions , she sets goals whenever it is time and achieves them no matter the date upon the calendar . how does she tell noah that she told herself to find poppy months ago , and continues to come up short ─── that maybe she’s too late now , and has been for a while ? how does she pin the title new year’s resolution to her desire to unite her circlet ─── rather , the society ? to learn how to lead and do so properly , to keep everything from falling apart under her command ? ❝ survival , ❞ ginevra answers instead . and her voice is weak as an attempted joke falls flat in front of a hollow girl ─── because the target on her back mirrors the one worn by poppy nighmore , because their fate could be shared . she turns to him then , blanket still around her shoulders , head tilted to the side in curiosity . ❝ what about you ? ❞
❪ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ * ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ the world hasn’t been kind to him, as he’s sure it hasn’t been kind to her, either. he has seen the ugliness it has to offer, over and over again has he been exposed to the horrific faces that gaea has to offer him. still, he has found beauty in the cracks of the cement he’s been encased in, reached for the sun from the bottom of the labyrinth as if he is icarus enchanted by apollo, spoken to the stars while covered in mud as if artemis looks down upon him with a smile on her lips. there is always beauty around him, there is a sliver of 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 in everyone around him and for almost five years of his life, he’s thought of the diadem as a human with one of the most human souls he’d ever met. noah doesn’t care how stained someone is, he doesn’t look at the saltwater droplets or the burnt edges and view them as horrors. he’s witnessed enough of those to learn that faults and heartbreak aren’t curses ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ no, they aren’t blessings either, but they aren’t to be hidden away, to be ashamed of. ginevra from florence was a flawed girl with a past she was ready to toss away in favor of a weightless night, she was an enigma that allowed him to drape a blanket of gold around her shoulders, she was a person that stayed with him when noah often forgot strangers after taking pieces of them for himself. from her, he would’ve taken her spirit, her remarkable electricity that powered her heart and her mind, but he had taken so much more than that; he had stolen her MEMORY and kept it framed above a fireplace, let her be praised atop a mantle that he had defended blindly upon his initial invitation. yes, for so long he had remembered her as vivid oranges and cotton candy pinks ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ & ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ oh, the longer he knew her in this setting, the more stained the canvas got. oranges faded into brown, pinks were dragged down into reds ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ fate had never been on their side, but it had been sure to weigh down whatever pristine image he had held of her. perhaps it was his fault all along, for believing her to be the same, young, girl in the country; perhaps it is his fault for choosing to see the good in even the worst of demons ( selfishness, because it’s what he’d want someone to do for him ), some are just irredeemable, it’s a lesson he has yet to learn.
her answer leaves him dissatisfied ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ resentment often weighs the same as the sky; atlas mirrored, fragment of the world upon his bare shoulders. when she turns to him and asks, noah wonders if she means it, or if she’s asking out of duty. a fact that he has become sure of in the past month﹕ he never really knew her at all. what a shame, for he has almost moved mountains for her. what a blessing, for he was hurt before he could sacrifice himself for her. ⠀ ❝ don’t have one, ❞ ⠀ he tells her. ⠀ ❝ i’m not much of a resolutions guy. ❞ ⠀ resolutions sing the same tune as promises and often, he’s found himself facing a mirror that he shatters. broken shards of glass litter his trail, remnants of whatever promises he has broken in the past. ⠀ ❝ good luck on survival, though, might want to look into hiring some bodyguards. ❞ ⠀
#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › discourse .#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › ofginevra .#if this got longer no it didn't shut up
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@isadvra
Edna St. Vincent Millay, Collected Poems
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𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 ﹕ isadvra
she would consider herself basic, someone who tends to never live on edge because they’re scared of what the other side might offer to them. she was accustomed to being alone, having been let down by many different aspects in her life that the most out of character experience she would allow herself to have was moving to england. once the acceptance letter was in her hands, proof that she made it, she wasted no time booking a flight and packing her bags. she hadn’t known what england had in store for her, eyes glued out the window during the plane ride over while anxiety prevented her from getting any sleep and her foot was aching from how much it jiggled in her seat. a new experience, another thing she would be dealing with alone. she didn’t have family or friends, starting a whole new life in a place she hadn’t even taken the time to research. it was the only thing on her list of crazy situations she got herself in, a girl who played it safe and watched others around her take chances that she was too afraid to take. that was where her list was supposed to begin and end ━ before the line between friendship and something more blurred between her and noah. he made the list, a secret she would have to keep to herself and possibly will if he dares to walk away, dares to leave her shattered heart in his wake again because of reasons that couldn’t make sense to her. noah wasn’t someone others easily forgot, would end up trying to see him in every other person they attempt to have interest in. he was someone isadora would stupidly pine for for the rest of her life, become the ted mosby of the society and watch as her robin found true love with someone with their time, with their space in their heart no other person makes home in. she would be happy for him, but pretend at the same time ━ how can you not be happy that your love has matched with their soulmate, the person who makes up their better half to be whole, yet how can you not falter when the person you love doesn’t see that in you? isadora knew what it felt like to feel wanted by noah and it was so much harder to digest than accepting unrequited feelings, so much harder to accept being a possible temporary want rather than never catching noah’s eye. she knew what it was like to have him; what his hands felt like against her skin, searching for more so his fingers could caress across out of want instead of the comfort of skin on skin. she knew what it was like to kiss him, to pull him closer and crave more of him so selfishly.
𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞﹕
❪ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ * ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ while he has always been blessed with the affection of eros and his mother, he has never been able to find it easy to love himself. it’s easy, to love everyone around him. a lesson he has always carried so close to his heart is that there is something to love about EVERYONE, and, oh, does he love everyone. noah falls quick, attaching himself to any soul that shows him even a sliver of the love he hands out ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ how drunk he gets on that love. it’s sweeter than cherry wine, kinder than the wind chill of loneliness ( and all the self loathing that comes with it ); those 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 spent tangled with someone new are the sort of evenings he’s always craved, he has preferred the taste of a stranger over anyone permanent. it is easier, he’s learned, to twist himself away from someone who won’t miss him as much, the more he gives, the harder it is to pull the thorns out of their fingertips ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ the more he inevitably wounds them with a rose he gifted with the most holy of intentions. so much like adonis, bleeding unto pure white rose petals grown by aphrodite ( he watches a tear roll down isadora’s cheek, noah wonders if he has been cursed the way all of venus’ lovers have – is he really just a pawn for the divine or has aphrodite smiled upon him and claimed him as her own? foolish boy, he’s always known his fate was written by someone he’d never know, it’s a mistake to attempt a guess at it ); his hands have never been free of the blame, NO, he wears scarlet a little too well and while he has always fallen in love with even the sinners, he has deemed himself unworthy. there is only one way his chapters end and they are never cloaked in sunrise oranges and sunset honey – they are almost always captured doves flying free from wrought iron cages, fleeing his captivity and his penance.
his fingers curl into themselves, he digs his nails into his palms so deeply they come back tinged a carnelian hue. streaks of white atop his head are stained pink when he runs a palm through them, his eyes unable to choose one singular thing to focus on. noah looks toward the party, he looks at isadora, at the doors that line the hallway, at the floors beneath their feet; his hues flit from direction to direction, the balance beam tipping and swaying in every which way as if judgement hangs above him. this feels eerily similar, the likeness of the situation rings clearly in his mind and he remembers running away from her with the very confession. the coward’s choice, when faced with the consequences of his SIN he had chosen to leave; and then he had chosen to avoid her at every cost. odd behavior for a boy who has never backed down from confrontation, it isn’t in his system to avoid the heartbroken, he is so used to handing out apologies that aren’t wanted and yet, he hasn’t apologized to her. he’s uttered the words ‘ i’m sorry ’ but doubt runs through him and asks if he ever meant it. what did he apologize for? did he ever explain? worse, has his tongue gotten so used to saying it that he just did? even worse, was it just spoken because he knew she’d forgive him?
… and what a 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 you are ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ carved from brimstone and cursed with hellfire; what do you apologize for, when do you mean it and when do you not? of course you aren’t worthy of the love you give; 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 would look you in the eye, tilt your chin up to meet his gaze – what kind of man tears the devil apart? …
noah knows he has to say no. he wrongs her every moment he keeps her wrapped around his finger, he continues to take, and take, and take from her knowing that his very decision could irreparably damage her. it’d kill him, to watch her soul drop from a burst of yellow to the dullest of grays, and he knows that the longer he allows her to want him, the quicker her color diminishes. he steps back over to her and embraces her, his arms gently wrap around her figure and pull her close to him. there is a message he must deliver in this moment, lips parted to let her know that he’s letting her go. his chin rests atop her head, his hand holds the back of her head tenderly as he rocks them slightly ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ oh, what a burden he has handed her, what a curse he has gifted her; there is none worse than loving him, there is none that weighs more ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ the corners of his lips tug downwards. ‘ i’m letting you go, i’m letting you go, ’ he can practically hear the voice of the goddess in his ears, she encourages him to break another heart and to fall back into the abysmal red passion that only a god can possess. with her in his arms, noah bites back his words, holds a confession that yes, this has ALWAYS been about her. him pulling away at every moment has been to save her – to push her back into the land of the living before she becomes nothing more than a walking soul, identity forgotten in the fields of asphodel. he has to let her go because if he doesn’t, she will get dragged down with him, trapped in the darkest of cells with nobody but a mad titan to keep her company. she is worth more than what he can give her.
but, where eros’ mother insists that he break another heart, where aphrodite BEGS for his return, eros asks him to bend to his selfishness. noah pulls away to look down at isadora and his palm encases her cheek, his thumb swipes away at saltwater, capturing crystalline tears with his finger tips and eros strikes gold.
𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇, 𝐁𝐎𝐘, 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 – 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐎𝐖𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.
he means to whisper a final, ‘ i love you ’ – noah means to tell her he’s letting her go, he’s supposed to push her away one last time and keep her there. son of the old north, as foolish as the winter, as weak as the river’s ice; he presses a deep kiss onto her lips. there is no hunger in this one, no trace of gentleness, no hint of desperation ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ his lips trace a story among her softness, he sings a lament as he tilts her head back. it is every apology he owes her, every single moment that he has known he’s loved her ( from now, tracing the line all the way to the very first time, watching her dance in the winter snow ). he wants to tell her how lucky he is, that in any time he could’ve existed, he’s lived at the same time as her. there is a confession that scratches the back of his throat that longs to be spoken, a laden secret that he hands her through his fingerprints. his head tilts, his lips shift and he deepens his hold against her, noah’s lips move softly – SOMBERLY, as another uproar of laughter plays from downstairs. in this moment, he knows he is letting her go. THIS is their kiss in the rain, their confrontation at the airport but some people just don’t get happy endings and noah has NEVER known the comfort of one. he has never closed his book feeling satisfied. his pages are just one tear stained story after the other and though he waits and waits for the sun to finally shine down upon him, he has always stared up at the overcast and known it wasn’t meant to be. letting her go is the painful ending to a story that was always meant to crash and burn for him, but it is only the beginning for her. anyone would be lucky to have her, they would be blessed to hold her in their arms, they would have the luckiest life if they got to keep her. … 𝚗𝚘𝚊𝚑 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.
when he finally pulls away, he’s sure his appearance mirrors hers. swollen lips, messy hair ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ though his eyes had never held the universe the way hers has. ⠀ ❝ i’m letting you go, ❞ ⠀ his voice drops to a whisper, he pushes her flyaways out of her face and kisses her forehead. ⠀ ❝ please, go. ❞ ⠀ and he pushes her away, gently guiding her toward the party as he takes a step back toward his room.
… i adore you, i absolutely do – perhaps my soul has always cried out for yours, but yours has always sang a song i don’t have the privilege of understanding. i love you, i love you, i love you﹕ i’m choosing to let you go.
#self harm tw#brief mention ! <3#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › discourse .#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › isadvras .#you know what maybe kate was onto something#i love it here#i have to laugh i really do
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𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 ﹕ isadvra
how was isadora meant to walk away with her head held high when noah was allowed to take as much as he wanted while she was all too willing to give, give, give. there’s desperation behind her actions the last couple of weeks, something she hadn’t realized she could experience through him ━ putting her pride on the line for a small conversation with noah, a reminder that she was still there; to please not forget about her the way others do. there was always a chance at an upper hand, a smile in his direction that proved she built her walls back up around her before deciding to make her way to the party rather than stopping for just a second of his attention, to never suggest the two stay alone together like the seriousness of their situation doesn’t hang between them. isadora clings to anything noah gives her because she’s scared once the thread breaks, once she finds herself slowly letting go ━ she lost him for good. she gives noah the upper hand he always had over her: when he pressed his lips against her’s first, mouth tainted with alcohol, but tasting just as sweet as she thought. he pulled her in close, the illusion of a commitment, of a longing to make something a reality, and somehow he was still the one to put her at arms length, walking out of her room with regret heavy on his tensed shoulders. he had the upper hand even when she made the power move to walk over to him, speak to him casually, only to be lead to the dancefloor and given a false promise of mending what was torn. late night at the pool, she offered him comfort ━ reached out a hand for him to take that he no longer wanted, no longer sought. the pain of reality stings, a comparison of the past consistently on her mind. if they never crossed the line between friendship and something more, a path toward lovers, he would’ve grabbed her and fell into her arms, allowed her to comfort him the way it used to be.
𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞﹕
❪ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ * ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ there are words he’s wanted to hear all his life, prose that he’s always wanted to hear in the midst of the night, poetry he’s longed to have whispered in his ears as the sun rises over him. he has learned to become intimate with language, tasting them upon his tongue in every new place he’s landed and learning them as if they were extra limbs attached to his soul ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ and maybe his favorite language ( or, not his favorite, he’d label it – moreso the tongue he has grown most PROFICIENT at ) is the dialect of goodbyes. he has always looked at himself and intimately understood why it was so easy for people to give up on him; what is there to save about him? who logically shines their torch upon a beast and wants to rescue it, fangs and all? when the question of ‘ 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅? ’ arises, the answer is always the same – no is almost the same in every language. if it comes down to saving the beast or saving the girl, his answer will never sway. isadora tells him what no one has ever said before ( pleas to hold on and stay are much different, aren’t they? he’s pushed people away before, NOBODY has fought to keep him the way she does ) and it echoes in his ears, it rings like a church bell in the early morning. oh, to hear those words from her is enough to make his head spin, to make his mouth part as if she has stolen the air out of his lungs.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ it is everything he has ever wanted to hear, oh, how he longs to hear her utter those words. he has longed to listen to someone tell him this and mean it, he has ached to hear it upon her melodic voice, to listen to the rhapsody and actually believe it. how FITTING it is, that he’s fallen in love with a writer and how equally FUCKED UP it is, that he doesn’t believe her. he has prayed to an empty god and sang his praises to the heavens to hear even an echo of, ⠀ “ i’d never give up on you ”, and he still can’t accept it. it is too foreign of a concept to believe it fully, she may mean it, but noah knows she’ll rescind it sooner or later ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ THEY ALL DO, after all.
⠀ ❝ please, ❞ ⠀ he mumbles against her lips. noah still cups her jaw and his chest presses against hers, he traps her against the wall with his frame when his mouth slowly nudges against hers. he doesn’t know what he pleas for ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ please, don’t leave me, please don’t give up on me or please give up on me, please leave me so i don’t have to leave you first. to any god that will listen, to any pantheon that lingers in the skies, he begs them for an answer to a question he barely understands on his own. his brows pull together with another kiss as he teeters the line between gentle kisses and hungry movements. noah tears himself away from her kiss, away from her lips and toward her jaw. ⠀ ❝ give me up, ❞ ⠀ he says in between planting kisses on her jawline, down to the corner. ⠀ ❝ please, is, you have to. ❞ ⠀ but his actions speak differently, hands traveling on their own. she’s in his palm, then it’s filled with locks of silky hair, then with her shoulder blades and the small of her back. the thought of a half hearted prayer almost makes him scoff. what a time to pray, he thinks, as his mind fills with the most UNHOLY of possibilities, while his fingers dig into her hips and his head falls into the crook of her neck ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ his breaths are shallow, trying to catch his breath, noah gives the base of her neck a ghost of kiss. his lips just trace over her skin while his arms wrap around her waist, holding her against him. ⠀ ❝ you’re going to have to let me go sooner or later, ❞ ⠀ noah murmurs.
a stain from his lips, he still pushes her away. permanent black ink still spills from his lips, droplets upon the surface of her skin, embedding into pure porcelain as he continues to pull away from someone who’s done everything right. his head lifts to connect their lips again ( gentler this time, slowly, do his lips brush against hers, his head tilts and – he takes his time now; an eternal hot and cold ) and noah is made painfully aware that yes, isadora has done everything right. he falls into love as if he has no choice, spotting a little piece of everybody that he can dote on and the pattern should have been the same with her. they met, and he should’ve fallen head over heels for her. he should’ve held her hand and kissed the back of her palm in the morning fog, confessed a little bit too early and kissed her at the airport. according to repeated behavior, noah should have already lost her by now and he kisses her like he maybe already has. but he hasn’t. he still has her, god, noah still has isadora ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ shouldn’t that be a blessing? shouldn’t that be enough to convince him that she is it for him? ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ no, of course not. the words that rolled from his tongue to josie still linger in his throat, they still mark the insides of his cheeks despite how much he’s tried to wash them out. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀no, this isn’t enough. nobody is enough for him because nobody ever will be, isn’t that what he said? he is plagued with doubt and insecurity, commitment is fleeting with him and one more reminder while he pulls away from her ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ he has always hurt those around him. nobody is exempt from his storm, not even isadora.
he breaks the kiss to look at her in the odd lighting of the hallway. being with her like this has dulled the rest of the world in comparison, lights a little dimmer, the sound of the party a little quieter ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ noah’s head snaps toward the end of the hallway, toward the sounds of life that celebrate the upcoming countdown. the very threat that hangs over them seems to loom in his ears, it is deafening, so loud that he gets lost in the silence of it and yet, he doesn’t separate from her. he’s still lost in her hold, enchanted by her aura, his hands are still snug on her waist when he looks back at her. one look. he leans in and with his eyes falling shut, gives her the gentlest kiss he has ever handed anyone. ⠀ ❝ this isn’t about me, sweetheart, it’s about you, ❞ ⠀ he says lowly while he pulls away. he kisses the tip of her nose. ⠀ ❝ ISADORA, ❞ ⠀ rarely does he say her full name, their friendship has been built on every single pet name he can give her. he kisses the top of her forehead. ⠀ ❝ it doesn’t matter what i want. ❞ ⠀ if it were simply about what he wanted, he'd have her by now. noah pulls apart from her with his eyebrows drawn together and he can feel his chest caving in, crushing himself into the place he stands. he can already see her features shifting, he already knows what it’s like to walk away from her and he never wants to do it again, but there’s a raucous uproar from the living room and noah can practically feel ginevra wrapping a rope around his wrists again. perhaps this time she’ll weight him down with a stone and push him off the edge of a pier ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ even worse, perhaps she’ll do it to isadora. his heart seems to still at the thought of her enduring punishment for something he’s started. ⠀ ❝ you have to give me up, don’t you understand? ❞ ⠀ his voice almost buckles in on itself, an uneven step taken back. ⠀ ❝ please, let me go, please, i’m begging you. ❞ ⠀ because, if she doesn't, he doesn't know what he'll do. maybe, to the ends of the earth he'd go for her, through hell and back as long as she's there waiting for him. or the opposite, perhaps, where he leaves her at the gates of tartarus without a rope to help her out, where he breaks her heart because he can ( because he has to, it's his very nature ). he leaves her against the wall he pressed her into, walking until his back meets the opposite wall. leaning back on it, he gestures a hand toward her, telling her not to step toward him. his tongue swipes over his lips and he still longs for her, his palms itch to hold her again; he wants to do this all over again, just so he can kiss her a little longer ( you can’t, you can’t, you can’t ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ stupid boy, love isn’t on your side no matter how many offerings you leave at my altar, she isn’t yours to have, she isn’t yours to love. how many times must you break your blessings for you to understand that they were never your blessings to begin with? ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ oh, how eros laughs as he leaves you ).
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𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 ﹕ isadvra
her heart won’t ever be forgiven for a choice so foolish, completely unrealistic to catch and keep. isadora was emotion driven, reacting without hesitation as long as her heart was giving her the cues. it shows in the way she snapped at basile in the group chat when noah was the topic of conversation, no shame consuming her even after it blew over and realized her actions were displayed for the rest of her opals to see. it shows in the way she didn’t reach out a hand first toward arah after noah wronged her, tried to defend noah’s honor even without him around to see it. isadora was an emotionally driven person, but she would never think twice when it came to putting herself on the line for noah ━ even when she was furious at him, even when her heart was chipped and cracked because she fell in love with someone who continued to throw mix signals in her direction. it’s easy to see isadora was a girl without a happy ending, struggling to reach the top of success and love ━ to reach the point of happiness she hadn’t felt for the majority of her life, to be knocked down and start from the beginning. there was a point in her life she believed she was the background character to everyone’s story, relevant for a bit and quickly irrelevant and forgotten once it reached the next chapter. noah was a breath of fresh air, finding home in a person who opened up his life to her and offered her the warmth of family that she cried herself to sleep begging to have someone care. it wasn’t about a love being lost, of unrequited feelings and not being worthy of receiving the same love back ━ it’s the pride she felt when she told anyone she was an HONORARY HWANG, to understand what it’s like to have younger sisters in the form of aria and nina, and what it’s like to have someone feel like a warm bed on a sunday morning when the snow is falling, coldness seeping through the windows, but you know that you have nowhere else to be except right there ━ the form taking place in noah. isadora has sat in her room multiple nights, glossy eyes staring at numerous pictures of the four of them and wonders if she’ll become their background character too.
isadora hadn’t known friendship, caught off guard by a silly boy trying to befriend her in the east library with a personality so bright and jokes so witty, it wasn’t hard for isadora to be captivated. maybe she always was a little in love with noah hwang, the emotion building up for the months together until it swelled in her chest and she had nothing else to do besides accept her fate. she was blind to it at first, caught up in the crushes who let her down while finding her way back to him to help mend a heart that was never really broken for others. there was a reason her heart would find a target to please her desires only to take twenty-four hours to move on from them like her feelings never existed ━ her heart always belonged to noah. he hadn’t mended her heart from others, he was her heart.
she’s learned that promises mean nothing. a person can promise to the moon and around the whole galaxy, but still have their fingers crossed behind their back, only the illusion of a word kept while the other assume it’s being held in steady heads. she still waits nervously, however, for him to wrap his pinky around hers like they used to, give her false hope that her little action wasn’t so meaningless. she holds her pinky up like it’s a written agreement between her and someone else, her insecurity held in that one action alone because deep down she knows no one will keep their word for her. it’s a façade for herself, that it could be a little bit of confirmation to have her think optimistically. after a while of being best friends though, isadora realized she didn’t need to ask for any sort of promises, noah becoming one of the only people she trusted and there was times she didn’t have to say anything at all ━ he understood her in a way left her cared for. it’s tear stained cheeks hiding into noah’s neck on the second night of her trip to iceland, opening up to someone about her past for the first time and there’s never a time a whispered ‘𝒊'𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖’ doesn’t ring in her heart. “my definition of a good time…” she pauses, pretends to ponder her reply despite knowing the answer is deserving of an eye roll. “when i get a perfect score in karaoke and declared a winner for the rest of the night.” her head tilts the same way noah’s did, staring at him for a couple seconds before it starts to process what he’s referring to exactly. isadora lacked a brain to mouth filter, going a hundred miles per hour and not realizing the words she say can be twisted in another way. “your promise of a good time is whose bed i’d prefer to be in?” she blinks at him, unable to say what she really wants to say ━ 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝘩𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩; 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠, 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑘 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛. it’s not unrealistic, though it would no longer mean two best friends who are each other’s halves of a whole. it means when isadora holds on to him a little tighter, whine escaping passed parted lips so he doesn’t leave her side for the morning, it’s because she’s in love with him. it means when isadora presses her lips against his forehead while his eyes slowly blink and register that he fell asleep in her room and lets the touch linger, it’s because she’s in love with him. isadora wants to be selfish with noah, wants to have everything with him. it’s too out of reach. “are you flirting with me? oh, you’re flirting with me so hard. you better be careful because i’ve been told i’m a good flirt ━ you’ll have red cheeks for weeks, hwang.” it’s normalcy, it’s them, but she wants so much more.
isadora stepped into the society hoping to find a sense of belonging, to search for the feeling of importance within someone else. she did her best to follow the rules, stay out of the way as much as possible so she can be accepted and never fall into trouble. while she wasn’t able to talk about the society to anyone besides the other prodigies and it’s existing members, she eventually found a sense of happiness being a part of something. the feeling no longer shines as brightly anymore, a dim light in comparison to what it once was. she’s in a random hallway with her BEST FRIEND, a conversation they shouldn’t be having so out in the open for others to see, and she’s willing to throw everything the society gave her away for noah. it’s an impulsive decision every time they’re together, a two way confession lingering between them. isadora attempts to school her features the best she can when he pulls her hand away from his face, though she’s curling her fingers instantly into his when he doesn’t let go. she walks on eggshells, afraid that any affection she wants to show might be too much ━ a squeeze of his hand in hers, bringing her other hand up to his cheek again stubbornly. his '𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭’ doesn’t take away from the fact he’s walking away from her, bringing her back to the night they kissed and he left without a glance back. it takes a moment for isadora to spin around, almost closing her eyes because she believes he’ll be gone ━ he’s still there.
his confession doesn’t relieve her of her pain, doesn’t excite her the way it did the first time it was said. there’s a but in his sentence somewhere, a comma where a period would’ve been if she was the kind of girl people fell for, if she was the kind of girl people fell for and wanted. it’s a hard pill to swallow, isadora doing her best to hold her chin up high despite his back facing her. it doesn’t feel quite like rejection, but it’s also not the two riding off into the sunset either. “you can’t ━ don’t want to because the last thing you want is to actually be with me or━” she pauses, stepping over to him and resting her head against his shoulder. it’s a sober mistake she’s about to make, to speak so freely without the excuse of alcohol tainting her every action. “or is this a society thing?” she’s selfish with her thoughts, the possibility of being with noah makes her heart flutter and decide what risk is worth it or not. she hadn’t thought about his risk, about what he had to lose by breaking the rules and being caught. isadora wants nothing more than to protect noah, she can’t do that when she’s trying to drag him into the fire. “i would never put you at risk of anything ━ wouldn’t allow myself to make you lose something or to leave you hurt in any way. i ━ i wouldn’t ever make you risk something for me, i would never allow you to do it either.” bottom lip caught between her teeth, she hadn’t said the three words that have been haunting her since it tumbled out of her mouth and noah walked away. it’s confliction on what to feel; if doesn’t want her or if putting themselves at risk of the society finding out wasn’t worth it. she thinks she’s afraid of either answer she’d receive. “i’ve been in love with you for so long, can’t even remember when i fell. i think i’ve been falling since day one. i’ve wanted this for a while ━ but it has to be mutual, yeah? and that’s ━ it’s okay.” it’s not and it stings. “because either way, i have to let you go, right?” ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ﹐ sᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ғʀᴇᴇ. and that’s where it ends for isadora. she’s not the kind of girl people come back to.
❪ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ * ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ isadora seong has always reminded him of a great hero, the kind to be read about from the classic greek myths. noah knows how the world views her, but he has always known that she was so much more. there is undeniable strength in her softness and courage in her kindness ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ he has observed, untouched, unbothered, as the world has seen a blanket of pink and taken it for weakness. they have seen a girl who signs her letters with hand drawn hearts and believes in the greatest of romances, he has seen them all take her for something she is so much more than. he has always known she is more than what the world has assigned her, isadora has more strength than anyone in noah has ever met because the world has been nothing but cruel to her and she has CHOSEN to be good. he has turned into his demons, cried to them for comfort and justification over the ways his touch has caused ruination but she has always pulled out the sun. she is perseus facing the storm with nothing but herself and her gall in front of poseidon’s worst beast. yes, she is the sweet, cascading breeze of a perfect summer evening and she has always danced in the storm instead of finding shelter, but she is so much of a hero that it sometimes blinds him. she is both thanatos and hebe, death and life wrapped up in a visage of divine humanity and so maybe the world has only ever seen her as a background character, but in whatever story is lain out before him, she’s the most important one.
and again, he has to ask himself if he’s ever stood a chance against her. her laugh has struck itself into his memory and every single word that she has written onto paper has appeared onto his skin in black ink he never wants to wash off. he has only ever known the displeasure of a shrinking pattern ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ he has gone from five to four, from four to three ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ and he has never even considered the possibility that it could ever expand. but, like the way he’s always known her to be so much more than she gives herself credit for, there’s a voice that reminds him he might’ve always known that she’s always given him the possibility that three can be four again.
because there’s a list of things that he’s always known about isadora. ONE, that she’s got the strength of a thousand great heroes. TWO, that maybe she’s always been the possibility of four. and THREE, that whatever flies around between them is bigger than electricity. for maybe their entire friendship ( would he call it that? ), he has watched it build up to thunder and rain, he has collected the fresh dew drops of the morning atop his fingertips and tasted it on his tongue – yeah, he knows. whatever their story is built from, it’s more than secret love letters passed through the patterns she traces onto his skin and longing gazes from best friends who still lock pinkies. no, their story is the tireless pleas of sailors at sea during a hurricane and the smell of rain after an endless blaze. yes, he realizes this in a dim, narrow hallway while his gaze can’t be ripped away from the girl right in from; there are a list of things he knows, a list of things that are DEFINITIVE and he has never been the kind to fight against fate. how can he, when his fate is staring him right in the eye? perhaps the most irrevocable thing he realizes tonight, is how he yearns for her – the way he does lights a flame so deeply within him that he can taste the coal on his tongue. god, maybe he’d steal every star in the sky for her. she laughs and oh, he is in love with her – that is undeniable.
how evident it is, in the way his eyes crinkle at her reply to him. his heart seems to skip a beat, tripping over itself when her features shift and she realizes that he is indeed flirting with her. ⠀ ❝ adore, i’m kind of always flirting with you. ❞ ⠀ he tells her shamelessly – it’s a confession he knows he’s uttered before, whispering to her when she doesn’t get his innuendo or when his joke just flies over her head. he’s always masked it under a guise of teasing – a joke that he’s throwing her way because of FRIENDSHIP. he is only enamored by her, watching her head tip back with a smile only to be matched with one of his own. what a fool he is to have ever asked if it was ever just friendship he shared with her. it has always been ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒.
he should’ve handed her a warning, though, before he had made the first move. there is something within him that is coded wrongly, a bug planted in by a god who laughs at him; a curse that has fallen so heavily upon his shoulders that he’ll never be able to shrug it off. he knows it, everyone who’s landed in his path knows it. GINEVRA, whose eyes have witnessed the lowest of him, whose lips have tasted his blood that was brought out as sacrifice. JOSIE, who sat without judgement as he whispered confession to stain her skin only for him to take a piece of her soul without intent to return. there is something in him that stains like the fog rolling down the mountains, it is made from acid and poison, and not even she is immune to it. she leans against his back, her head rests between his shoulder blades and he has never felt more complete in his life, but his heart races. it isn’t the sort of heartbeat built from sweaty palms and butterflies in his stomach, it’s the kind that arrives right before the darkness of night takes over. the kind that makes his blood run cold and sends a chill up his spine ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ he is so in love with her that he takes her hand within his and squeezes, because there is nothing more TERRIFYING than facing someone he’s so sure he’ll just lose in the end. noah’s head bows, freshly dyed strands of blonde curl into his eyes as she lays it all out on him. her words hang in the air around them, he swears he can pluck them out with his fingers and hold them in his hands ( he almost wants to place them back in her lips, he longs for her to swallow her words and take back her confession – there is irreversible sin in loving him. he is no hero, no love interest for her to curl into at the end of the night, no, he has always been a beast, and he has always brought everyone down with him ). noah inhales and he turns on his heel, he breaks whatever hold she has on him to embrace her instead. his hands land on either side of her face, his palms on her neck, his thumbs brush along her jaw gently and he intends to tell her to let him go. his lips part at the words are just at the tip of his tongue, they are just barely there, he can hear them echoing in his ears, an angel on his shoulder encouraging him to confess, “ let me go, let me go. you deserve more, you are worth so much more and it would anchor you to remain in love with me. ” – but, he can’t.
all it takes is one look. his eyes meet hers and he swears that she has pulled every star from every constellation and trapped them in her eyes, noah leans in ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ and he shuts his eyes in order to avoid being scorched by perfect godhood ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ and against every logical thought screaming profanities in his mind ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ noah kisses her. he presses his lips against hers, his hold on her tightening as all the tension relieves. as if it’s a coil that’s been wound up inside of his core, like all of his muscles have been tensing up for a few minutes too long; it releases as soon as their lips meet and he is thrown into carelessness once more. but, oh, kissing her is like a breath of fresh air. all this time, he’s been wandering around the bottom of the lake, taking every step of his sluggishly until now ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ and it’s like he’s gotten a fast track to the surface. he’s finally broken through, touching her, kissing her, having her, holding her; noah kisses isadora roughly, because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get to do it again. his hands fall from her face to her waist and he turns her so he traps her against the wall. what a foolish move, logic reasons ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ it’s what you’ve always wanted, croons love. his mouth slants against hers and his hands run up her back, he lets his fingers dig into her hair, a fistful at the nape of her neck before he pulls away. ⠀ ❝ give me up, ❞ ⠀ he tells her, forehead against hers, his eyes are squeezed shut. ⠀ ❝ just let me go, please. ❞⠀
#FUCK THIS REPLY IS SO BAD HFOUEHAO I'M SO SORRY ALISON#GOD FHOEAUHWOA IT'S NOT IT THIS IS NOT IT#also the read more is for LENGTH and NOT for nsfw things so MIND UR OWN BUSINESS#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › discourse .#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › isadvras .
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𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 ﹕ isadvra
a part of her wonders ━ and she hates herself for it ━ when he’ll start pulling away again, slowly becoming accustomed to him waking away while her entire being is left empty. there’s anxiousness running through her veins with the urgency to keep him near, to take up as much of his time as possible before she has to let him go again. she wants to forget about the world around them to embrace the moment they’re sharing now, live on a small high of him deciding to spend his time with her rather than the party currently taking place. she was never afraid of losing him, used to the way she would hear his gentle voice through her phone’s speaker every single day and feel the warmth he gave off while pressed to his side, cheek squished against his arm as she begged him to spend time with her instead of doing his assignment. she watched him leave the manor with slight sadness, though it was uplifted when she remembered she would see him again ━ the two would always come back to each other. it’s different now, however. when noah walks away, isadora holds her breath in hopes he turns around and gives her any kind of sign they’re not finished, their chapter hasn’t ended and will turn into novels and many sequels. the sadness no longer washes away the way it used to because they’re not the same people they once was weeks ago. isadora no longer had the comfort of knowing noah was a permanent part of her life ━ the one who took up so much space without even trying.
her lips part slightly, like there’s a million things she wants to say, but can’t bring her head up to the surface to find them. her gaze follows noah’s hand briefly, slightly widened eyes studying his face instead, almost breathlessly watching the way his handsome features shift as he tucks the same loose strand behind her ear again. her cheeks heat up again, flushing at the same time over a movement that seemed so tiny yet tender ━ she feels shy all of a sudden. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for gentle touches to be exchanged between them; dainty fingers threading through his hair when she notices he’s slowly falling asleep, his thumb across her cheek after she shows up on his doorstep ━ bottom lip poking out while venting about her overall bad day, foreheads softly knocking against each other as bright laughter fills the room and they make promises through their fits of giggles, they’ve always been so natural together. isadora takes in a deep breath, grabbing on that normalcy noah is gifting her with and holding on to it as tightly as she can. “you’re gonna take me to a real party, huh?” while he steps back, she steps forward. it’s not something she thinks about, habit to always stay close to him. “am i going to have fun at this party? will you show me a good time?” she raises an eyebrow to tease him, feeling excitement that there’s hope. “i’m holding you to that then.” she doesn’t hesitate to hold her pinky out toward him, though there’s regret immediately weighing on her. she ignores it in favor of wiggling it, maybe this was the promise he’d keep this time. “you have to promise me you’ll take me to a real party. make my high school self’s dreams come true.”
there’s a time and place for everything ━ a lie that isadora fed herself so many times to avoid the inevitable truth; an ask of forgiveness that somehow still made her feel like she wasn’t good enough, a heartbreak that she saw coming from miles away, but chose to put it off until it was displayed right in front of her. it was an excuse for avoidance while the hope of possibility still lingered around. it put her mind at ease and made it work over time with assumptions and her own conclusions. she realized too late that there won’t ever be a right time or a right place for anything, even with the effort behind it to make it happen. no one wanted to face a harsh reality, there was no perfect storm to get caught in to face one’s fears. there was never going to be a right time for noah and isadora to finally speak to each other about what happened so many nights ago, the press of his lips against hers still fresh in her mind like the memory happened yesterday. she accepted noah’s promise of later, clung to it with all her might and believing his words the way she always had. it had her making excuses for their situation, that any time they bumped into each other wasn’t the time or place to have a serious discussion. isadora thinks one of her chances was at the pool, helplessly watching the way he ached without his sisters yet feeling like she was on the outside looking in with the distance between them. however, she knows deep down there can be a wrong time. she considers it being the wrong time now ━ noah without his sisters and a whole society of people just a wall away from them ringing in the new year the way isadora hadn’t wanted herself. maybe one day she’ll be brave enough to take charge, pull him aside and demand answers from him. she no longer is looking for the reassurance that feelings are mutual, she’s desperately seeking the reassurance she won’t lose him. it’s not hard to be focused when noah speaks, easily hanging off every word he tells her ━ even the times when he nudged her for not paying attention. his voice captivates her, he interests her more than any person or story could. when he bows his head, isadora is instantly bending forward and tilting her head to get a look at him, a smirk on her face as she is seconds away from teasing him. “you’re gonna have to refresh my memory. don’t make me guess either. it’ll be painful for both of us.” there is no supposed right time to tell someone you’re in love with them, though isadora starts to believe there’s always a good time to tell someone you’re in love with them. she stands up straight, breath caught in her through while she studies him, blinks at him to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“noah…” she speaks out gently, hand reaching out without a second thought to cup his chin in her hand in attempts to get him to look at her. “do you mean it? do you mean what you said?” her voice trembles slightly, her hand not dropping from his face as she steps a bit further into his space. her heart pounds in her chest, surely loud enough for the rest of the society to hear over the loud music, but she’s willing to take the risk if their moment had finally come. “do you really love me, noah?” please, please, say that you’re in love with me too. please, please, say you want to stay by my side.
❪ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ * ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ for as long as he can remember, he has always wanted love. it is the thing that is most sought out by him, a garnet shade of passion, a gentle pink wave melting into sky blue as day turns to night; he has always reached out for it and let himself fall head first into it. noah has spent his entire life following around a half - absent father who looked for his own true love in every place they went, did noah ever have control over who he turned out to be? it is an emotion he has used often to hurt everyone around him, but it is the emotion he is the most fond of. where he has always turned his back on grief and discomfort, where he has fought with anger and hatred, noah has always held on so tightly to love. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ he loves love, and all that comes with it. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ there is nothing that can compare, he is convinced of this, it is why he knows his nature and still turns his cheek when confronted with it. it is the sole reason he’ll hold back the storm with a plastic film and lie in bed with someone, watching them sleep into the latest hours of the night. it is why he looks at isadora as if her hands were the ones that hung up all the stars in the sky and it is why he can still smell her perfume on his clothes, smell her shampoo on his pillowcase, taste her lipgloss when he swipes his tongue over his lips. he has reduced her love to friendship and he knows it’s because he has been that afraid of losing her to love the same way he has lost everyone else to it.
but, at what point does friendship blur into romance? has it always been that way? catching her eye over the edge of his laptop, twirling her around in the icelandic rain, pushing her hair out of her face while she snores next to him in bed; has it ever been just friendship between them? perhaps not, he’s gotten good at seeing only what he wants to see when glancing at a framed piece of art. color him distraught, however, when he studies their canvas and he can’t make anything out. there is a gash in the art, gaping, wide, jagged edges – his own work, he can recognize it anywhere. pretending, apparently, does him no good, either.
isadora holds out her pinky to him, expectant for him to return it at their proposal. there is a flash of insecurity that floods through him when he links pinkies with her ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ the last time he did this, he failed to pull through, he hasn’t forgotten, he doubts she has either. but, she looks at him like that. if he believes she has hung the stars, she believes he has roped the moon and for this moment only, noah supposes it is enough. it has to be, for whatever they are, whatever limbo they have found themselves trapped in. they have always worked together, haven’t they? nyx and artemis, holding hands in a hidden grotto as the rest of their pantheon slumbers during the darkness of the night; noah and isadora, hiding away from a party so they can catch up, as if they haven’t spent all day talking to each other anyway. for this moment only, he lets things be normal. whatever doubt and insecurity worms its way into him, he pushes it out with the tide and digs his toes into the sand, firmly. wherever they are, suspended in time, is where he wants to stay ( he’d stay anywhere with her, as long as they were OKAY ). ⠀ ❝ it depends on your definition of a good time, is, ❞ ⠀ he jokes back with a tilt of his head, a lift of his lips. ⠀ ❝ my promise of a good time depends on whose bed you prefer ending your night in. ❞ ⠀ it flies past his lips as if they’re just friends again ( oh, the edges of the gash grow just a little bigger at his teasing – it doesn’t make anything better ), as if he can joke around about taking her home at the end of the night. he usually does, anyway, but she’s always had a place in his bed, in his sheets, in his clothes ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ but their goodnight kisses have always been chaste. he tucks her in with a kiss on the forehead, he sends her to bed as his lips brush her temple, he presses a kiss to the back of her palm while she pushes him out of her space. maybe his words have a different meaning now, or maybe he’s struck, under the guise of normalcy with her.
and still, he leans into her touch , not the way a best friend should. his head tilts into her palm, his hand comes up to cup hers and with a thumb on her wrist he can feel her pulse – a mile a minute. his tongue brushes over his bottom lip and he pulls her hand away from his face, gently holding on as their hands connect between them. noah should look around before he spills everything to her, check to make sure none of their peers are listening in to what could possibly be another great mistake of his. but he is enamored by her, noah looks at her and oh, he swears it, 𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓. his love for her envelops his chest, it spreads from his heart into the tips of his fingers, it dances on his tongue and it leaves him breathless. he is far from deserving her love in return, he knows this, but he has fallen so deeply into the emotion he craves most that it feels like it’ll eat him up alive. he has felt love before, he has looked at another soul and wished on every star to keep them in his life but he has never let himself be consumed by it. isadora asks whether he means it, whether he is truthful in his words and there is nothing more that he wants to do than let her know. he’d scream it from the mountaintops and bear his soul to thanatos, produce a golden arrow of eros and defeat venus herself to let her know just how much he means it. ⠀ ❝ yeah, i mean it. ❞ ⠀ he pulls their fingers apart, dropping his hand by his side. noah sidesteps, walks away from her to the other edge of the hallway – he knocks the wall with his knuckles, uncurls his fingers ( they long to touch something else, to run through someone’s hair ). ⠀ ❝ i love you, – i’m in love with you. ❞ ⠀ he doesn’t turn to face her, he confesses to a blank wall – it’s easier than facing her as he threatens another heartbreak. ⠀ ❝ you understand why i can’t? why i don’t want to? ❞ ⠀ he looks over his shoulder at her with his eyebrows raised. he has shut himself off from her for a while, but he desperately wishes for her to enter his thoughts again. he can’t – because the society won’t allow them, because he’s already been tied to a statue, because one of isadora’s peers already got a slap on the wrist. he doesn’t want to – because he’s already lost her, he can’t lose her anymore, because he’s made of ruination and built to fight the gods, because his list goes on and on and he has always known she was meant for better. it isn’t her he doesn’t want, it’s all the fear and insecurity that comes with having her; he has never forgiven himself easily, anyway.
#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › discourse .#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › isadvras .#i'm gonna beat you up so hard
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𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 ﹕ ofginevra
✺ ─ 𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 whole ’ being sad ’ thing , ginevra has found ─── she is as bad at feeling as an inexperienced child picking up a new hobby because their parents have pressured them into it , talentless and unenthused by something forced upon her by her very nature . a child , whose voice is silenced by the thunderous command of authority ─── a heartbeat , crying out and leaving her no choice but to listen . no matter how hard ginevra may press her hands to her ears and try to drown out the sound , humanity haunts her every limb as her pulse is felt even in her fingertips . yes , ginevra is awful at feeling sad ─── grief , in particular , had seemed to elude her . with eyes free from tears and an unobstructed throat , she made it through a funeral six years ago with remarkable composure ─── called herself strong when her sister faced her and called her a monster . a beast with a hollow cavity where a heart should beat , the elder di parma turned away and never looked back at the girl left behind ( left alone ) ─── briefly , glancing out at the cold landscape that seems to reflect the image that exists of herself , ginevra wonders how alina would react if she told her that she’s broken . a handwritten letter saying my nature caught up to me at last , signed your sister , ginevra . does alina mourn her the same way she mourned matteo ? does she weep for the absence of the beast whose veins are also lined with gold , for the girl who wears her brother’s crown ? or does ginevra’s sister think of her as nothing but a usurper ? noah bows his head with a reverence that the amber is undeserving of ( especially after the rocky grounds her back has collided with since the night of a masquerade and a bloodied kiss upon the corner of her lips ) . grief has made her weak , yes ─── but almost as if knowing how sadness seems to catch her in a way that is sudden and all - consuming , it grants her a companion now . someone who understands it far better than she does . quietly , ginevra turns to face noah ─── and understanding is found in his eyes , as grief’s mercy becomes her own . ❝ i need … to apologize to you , ❞ she murmurs . ❝ i know you would rather not be here . and i am truly sorry . ❞
❪ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ * ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ her apology is probably meant well. there is something that tells him that ginevra apologizes rarely and that when she does, it is weighted with kindness that the contessina doesn’t show often. still, noah finds it lands on him EMPTILY; her words don’t imprint upon his skin as her whispered promises and hushed confessions once did, they are carried away with the cold breeze that darts past them. she is sorry, and he doesn’t forgive her ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ – ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ he can’t. noah’s lips purse in reaction, he can feel the apology peel itself from the surface of his skin and get swept away, if he were able to, he’d watch it be lifted by boreas into the north. he nods, instead of replying, his lips are unable to form any words of reassurance, anything to say to her that lets her know that it’s okay. it isn’t. there has been a weight tied around his neck since arrival and even if he floats atop the pool water, he falls asleep feeling like he’s being dragged down by an anchor that he didn’t choose. he knows she is not as pristine as she claims, noah is aware of the stark, grey grief that weighs her down, but she is not innocent in her throne. she has taken the mantle of leadership and accepted whatever scepter thrust into her palm and while she has not brought the danger, she has agreed to let the fingers be pointed in her direction. a witch hunt he has never wanted to participate in, but he feels like a stranger among friends during the holidays and he has raised his finger to cry wolf knowing someone will listen, and someone will look at a girl who’s always had the wings of icarus thrust upon her and agree with him. ⠀ ❝ hm, ❞ ⠀ he hums, it comes from the back of his throat and he keeps his head down – noah refuses to meet her gaze, he can’t trust himself to keep the peace. ⠀ ❝ well, happy new year. ❞ ⠀ he shifts the subject. ⠀ ❝ any resolutions? ❞
#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › discourse .#⟨ 𝙣𝙤𝙖𝙝. ⟩ filed under › ofginevra .#this gif is so funny to me pls
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