#he must've had it memorised by some point surely?

[dinosaur-mayonnaise]

the victorians really got it right with flower language. it's like beginner's guide to symbolism. any time i read a victorian text that mentions a single flower i race over to allflorists.co.uk (not an ad) before i can even finish the sentence to figure out the "hidden" meaning. it's like the boxed cake mix of literature.

[cupiditis]

                                   foreign feelings

warning . mentions of drowning in lighthearted ways

event . from the other world

feat . jimmy bae

he watched your figure stir under the light of the setting sun, the way the light hit your features made you seem so wistful. that dumb head of yours jumping into the water to save someone who tried to drown you. guilt is what made him save you, that's right. but why was he looking at you so much ? why is thinking about how you looked when you jumped in to save him ?

he's snapped out of his thoughts when you begin stirring chest heaving before abruptly sitting up to cough. he didn't know what to do, what would he even do ? he watched as you cough and hack up your lungs for longer and longer. getting worried about you as you slowly come to a stop and begin wiping your tears with slight sniffles.

you make eye contact with him, tears still in your eyes when you look up, he sees you go wide eyes for a moment before pointing at him, mouth gaping in shock. " yeah yeah it's me " he said dismissively, " you good ? " he couldn't help asking, he could practically feel his own throat bleeding from how painful it looked for you. " but you — what happened ..? " your voice was scratchy, he passed you a water bottle that he stole from a passing boat, for you.

nodding at him in thanks you slowly drank from the bottle until it was half empty, you then layed down before going back to sleep. it must've taken a lot from you and so he leaned his head back and closed his eyes too, tired from swimming everywhere to get stuff for you. why did he go so many places to get stuff for you ? was it guilt ? gratitude ? whatever it was he wasn't sure he liked it.

next time he woke you were still asleep, he crawled closer to you, torso holding the weight of his large tentacles. you looked so peaceful, he hesitantly reached his hand to your hair, brushing stray pieces of it away from your face. he stared at your relaxed features, lost in his thoughts as he listened to your soft breathing. he snapped out of it when you turned over in your sleep. embarrassment clear on his face he went back in the water.

when you woke up he had brought you some food, he watched you eat it quickly, drowning must take a lot from a person. " thank you for saving me " his eyes widened slightly at your smile, " even though you did sort of try to kill me before that " your smile widened as you laughed when he sputtered to find an excuse. he wouldn't normally be this clumsy. what happened.

you moved around the damp small cave doing random little things for a while after eating before sitting in front of him. " i'm bored .. " " jimmy " " jimmy .. well jimmy i'm bored " " go in the water " you hesitated this time. " i'll take you somewhere so don't worry " he smiled proudly before going in the water.

you went in after his head popped out again, he grabbed your waist when you went under, until you broke the surface and got some air again. he held his hand out to you, smile proud and eyes watching. and when you held his hand he took off, in a moment you were being dragged through the cool water as rays of sun shone through the surface of it.

turquoise blue oceans for as far as you could see. fishes swam everywhere around you as he pulled you over corals and white sand. you showed him places you immediately loved and he memorised them, maybe he'll take you again. as your lungs began straining for air you tugged at his hand, he looked back at you and you pointed at your throat.

you immediately broke the surface with him, coughing out water and breathing air as you put your weight on him, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. once you calmed down you held his face in your cold hands, his hands on your middle " that was amazing jimmy " " yeah " he croaked out. flustered at the close proximity. " and see i didn't drown you " he pointed out, a frown set on his lips. you hummed as you searched his face, eyes landing on his, he looked so pretty in the sunlight. eyes bluer and wet choppy hair stuck to his forehead. he watched you as you looked at him, maybe this feeling isn't something he hated all that much.

𔘓 . taglist

@bakerysnake . @avid-idiot . @aweminitis . @ty4erything-alkyn

[princessnotfound]

🌈

🌈 // A memory you're not sure actually happened.

Let's talk about nightmares.

George doesn't have the best sleeping pattern, but it's mostly because his nights are haunted with nightmares. He's not sure what triggers them to happen so often, but it certainly is an inconvenience, and he is drained of his energy pretty quickly throughout the day. Some nightmares tend to be considerably realistic to the point where he remembers them as vivid memories rather than just the happenings of his dreams.

One that is constantly on his mind is a particular dream where he was being stalked. It's awfully believable, because he is well-known enough to have people trying to follow him around.

The memory is vivid: it was nighttime. Pitch black, so it must've been winter. Street lamps didn't illuminate as much of the pavement ahead as he would've liked, so he had his phone flashlight out as well, to guide him through the darkness. He had memorised the way back home from the point where he turned the corner just ahead, but the extra light was just for a little more reassurance. It was dead silent, too. Unsurprisingly, everyone must've been indoors -- it was a winter night, after all. No one wants to be caught in the cold and the absolute darkness. George's shoot overran, which was the only reason he was out there so late. He didn't think much of it, until he turned the corner and footsteps other than his own became audible.

Turning around wasn't any help; it was too dark to see any further than the street lamp he just passed. There was shifting among the shadows behind him, but he convinced himself that his eyes were playing tricks on him. So his walk continued. The faster he got home, the better. Silence felt welcoming for once, until footsteps clicked behind him once again.

That time, turning back, George caught a glimpse of a face. It's an expression that he still has embedded into his mind. The person looked sickly, but he does not know if it was just the ugly yellow lighting of the streetlamp they stood beneath. Their eyes were sunken into their face with such exaggerated exhaustion to the point that they nearly looked inhuman. They showed no emotion in their face. Creepy neutrality and dead eyes were all that stared back at him. The figure draped in black stepped back into the shadows as soon as they realised they had been spotted, clearly with the intention to stay hidden. And, as they moved, the moon peered over a cloud, and moonlight glinted off something metallic in their hand. That was enough to make his skin crawl.

He didn't dare turn back again. George sped home as quickly as possible and made sure to lock every door and window of his house. He's certain he didn't sleep that night.

..If it was even real, of course.

George isn't sure if this was a nightmare or if this actually happened. Either way, it was frightening enough to stay in his mind until this day. There are several aspects of it that suggest it couldn't possibly be real: the darkness, he remembers, felt almost unrealistic. Too shadowy. He should've been able to see beyond the light of streetlamps, but he remembers it all looking like empty void. Furthermore, his pursuer had such obscure features that he cannot place whether or not they were even human.

There are two options here; either it was such a vivid nightmare that it still feels real, or fear must be mutilating his memory to exaggerate the fear of the situation.