#hurtingkind

[bestcurse]

would say it’s taken him awhile to get to this point. awhile for the guilt, that had carved out a home in his stomach, to dissipate, at least enough that it no longer absorbs him, no longer poses as a constant threat to swallow him whole. his liability still weighs on his shoulders, in some form, although not as heavy as it once had, seemingly alleviating a little more each day they spend with each other, each day they near closer and closer to a life that should’ve been theirs from the very beginning. and it’s seemingly less apparent tonight— maybe it’s because he’s already on his whatever number drink of the night, and that familiar buzz, the one that has his nerves, his usual anxieties, receding until a wave of confidence is settling in is place. hasn’t been able to reach this place yet before, finding it to be a huge adjustment, a barrier, allowing this desire he’s always had for her, this yearning and love that’s always run deep, to be on full show, right in front of the very people, their closest of friends, they tried to desperately conceal it from for years, despite it being something they’re allowed to do now that the news is out; that she’d called off her wedding, that they had been involved with one another all along. it hadn’t been an easy pill to swallow, the news getting out in the way it had, a certain narrative presented, but he’s coming to terms with it, now that the dust has settled, now that enough time has passed for everyone else to adjust, too. and now that they have, now that they’ve taken enough heat from the group of familiar faces around the table, over these past few weeks— that it was obvious all along, that they were never good at hiding it, miller’s finally reached a place where he’s outwardly able to show off his affection, in the direct light, rather than behind closed doors, in darkened corners, like he’d once grown used to. so, yeah— it’s taken him awhile to get here, with his palm laid flat against the warmth of her thigh, thumb brushing absentmindedly back and forth, fingers occasionally giving a light squeeze. and he’s almost certain that he looks like some sort of fool, with how big he’s smiling over at her, nothing but admiration gleaming in his hues, unable to remember the last time he’s ever felt this content before. it’s enough to have him inching that much more towards her, free arm moving so it can grasp the back of her chair for stability, though really it’s acting as an excuse to be as close as he can. “ you know, i don’t think i got the chance to mention it before— just how good you look, tonight, ” actually, even if he hadn’t verbally mentioned it, he’s sure that the way his eyes haven’t been able to stop landing on her, or the way he could barely keep his hands off of her before they’d arrived, might’ve expressed it. he just wants to reiterate it now. “ i mean, not that you don’t always look good, or anything, ” it comes with a low chuckle, remembering how he equally likes the sight of her after they’ve just woken up, or getting ready for bed, or fuck, even in the middle of the day. “ it’s just... especially so, tonight, i guess. you look happy, i don’t know, like genuinely happy. ” / @hurtingkind​

[moonscngsarchive]

･ﾟ∗ ∘     closed starter for     @hurtingkind​      .

     expletives  fly  out  of  jac’s  mouth  as  dilated  pupils  attempt  to  focus  on  ezra’s  tail  lights,  watching  helplessly  as  he  pulls  away  and  turns  a  corner  —  he  had  officially  left  her  stranded.  her  heart  sinks  to  the  pit  of  her  gut  as  panic  simultaneously  springs  up  and  forms  a  lump  in  her  throat,  a  seesaw  of  uncontrollable  emotion.  a  cacophony  of  noise  seeps  out  of  the  dive  bar  behind  her  and  she  immediately  feels  vulnerable,  unsafe.  stands  here  for  a  few  minutes,  in  a  state  of  shock  and  dizzy  haze.  hates  that  she  has  no  options  as  she  begins  to  follow  her  first  instinct,  pulling  out  her  phone  and  pressing  the  call  icon  next  to  grey’s  name.  feels  tears  prick  at  her  eyes  as  the  ringing  tone  drolls  in  her  ears,  but  her  stubborn  nature  won’t  allow  them  to  spill  over.  it  rings  for  what  feels  like  minutes,  only  making  her  panic  more  at  the  thought  of  not  trusting  anyone  else  in  this  moment,  until  grey’s  voice  finally  comes  over  the  receiver  and  she  feels  a  semblance  of  relief.  jac  explains  everything  as  quickly  as  she  can,  silently  thankful  that  grey  doesn’t  comment  when  her  voice  cracks,  but  even  more  thankful  when  he  lets  her  know  he’ll  be  on  his  way  soon.  once  they  hang  up,  she  walks  a  safe  distance  away  from  the  bar  and  toward  the  intersecting  street  that  she  let  him  know  he  would  be  at.  when  grey’s  car  eventually  pulls  up  and  she  sets  eyes  on  him  in  the  driver  seat,  jac  feels  the  sting  of  tears  once  again.  “if  music  doesn't  work,  you  should  feel  comfort  in  knowing  that  i  would  offer  you  your  first  five  star  rating  on  uber,”   she  jokes,  buckling  her  seatbelt  once  she’s  inside  the  car.  shifts  in  her  seat,  obviously  uncomfortable.  "but  thank  you...  for  coming.  i  didn't  want  to  call  you,  but  you  saved  me."

[caligiinous]

had tonight been his finest moment ? no, probably not. but that didn’t mean he entirely regretted it. entirely being the key word, because now that he was outside, burning his way through a cigarette, and had the time to reflect back on the night’s events ─ yeah, he probably shouldn’t have fucking done that. but he’d been downing his drinks a little quicker than usual, anything to stop that unusual feeling in his chest, in his abdomen ─ almost as if his insides were consistently winding and unwinding themselves together at the mere sight of her with somebody else. with somebody who treated her so poorly, talked about her so poorly. yeah, that was it. had been the reason why he’d taken the first swing, at least; something he was growing to be more embarrassed by, by the second. upon hearing the door open, miller’s head pivots towards the sound, expecting to see anybody other than her, assuming she would’ve been inside, tending to the damage he’d caused.  “ if you’re gonna be mad or lecture me, i’ve already heard it all from everyone inside, ” he sighs, turning his back to her. it had been out of character for him, he knew that ─ completely uncalled for, causing unnecessary drama, as some of their friends had put it. and while he didn’t entirely regret it, no, that had been enough to have him feeling disconcerted, to feel as if removing himself from the situation was the best option for everyone involved, to aid to his aching, bruising knuckles alone ─ which surprisingly, didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. come to think about it, the amount he’d consumed tonight probably offered an explanation for that, his gaze still a little hooded, unfocused, even if he’d lost some of his buzz, following the fight. still, he couldn’t tell if that part was because of the liquor that lined his stomach, or if he was just too embarrassed to look at her. whatever it is, he’ll distract himself with another drag, releasing the smoke into the cold night’s air. except miller didn’t feel particularly cold, deciding to reach for the bottle he’d brought out with him, another swig, and then another ─ maybe to make up for some of the feeling he’d lost, or maybe to prepare himself for whatever she had to say to him. “ i know i shouldn’t have done that, i don’t know why i did─ ” yes he did. “ but seriously, dev. everyone’s already told me i’m an asshole. i don’t need to hear it from you, too. ” / @hurtingkind​

[butterflydustsarchive]

is the url hurtingkind hot or.............. not 

[kediyesermaye]

— (Hurting Kind) I’ve Got My Eyes on You! Happy 50th Birthday my Brit&Turk friend “Sir” Timur Balkaş — “Proud Member of Classic Rock Gentlemen’s Navy Club” 👏🏻⚓️🎩🥂🥃😻😘🖖🏻 #Happy50thBirthday #TimurBalkaş #ClassicRock #Navy #GentlemensClub #DenizLisesi #DenizHarpOkulu #TED #RobertPlant #HurtingKind #IveGotMyEyesOnYou #ManicNirvana #1990 #Sir #WinstonChurchill (Heybeliada, Istanbul, Turkey)

[bestcurse]

it feels almost surreal, waking up next to her like this— such a long time coming, that he finds it hard to believe that it’s even real. the undertone of today doesn’t fail him, however. in fact, it’s dense in the air, serving as a reminder of what a day like today was supposed to bring, up until last night. that it was meant to be one of the biggest day’s of her life, and yet they’ve ended up here, instead— together, like he always hoped it would turn out. years spent wanting this privately, secretly, has finally come to a halt, and he’s free, now, to want her openly, shamelessly. there’s a soft, content appearance upon his countenance as he rolls to face her that much more, hands outstretched, seeking, for any form of contact, anything that will let him know that this was tangible, that she was here with him, and not apart of some far off dream that he had become accustom to, after weaving in and out of each other’s lives, over all this time. the pads of his fingertips come into contiguity with bare flesh, and suddenly he can breathe easy again, each breath timed evenly, as open eyes adjust to the now sunlit room. she’s the first thing he focuses on, heavy-lidded and still half asleep, but the memories that swarm of the previous night, of all that they’d admitted, how even through it all, they still wanted one another, remind him of all he needs to know. it was as if a weight had been lifted, light shining down on an existence that had once been clouded with darkness, without her presence in his life, afraid of how it might’ve remained that way permanently, had she made the decision to proceed with today— that he would’ve lost her for good, if she had. there’s still a faint quell of that fear in his chest, rattling around his bones, infiltrating his previous calm breaths. still, he tries to shield it as best he can; those doubts, that guilt. it’s easy enough to do, waking up to the sight of her, to the warmth of her frame curled up against his own, after such a long time without it. “ morning, ” he whispers, voice coarse, raspy, as a small smile stretches at the corners of his mouth, enough for his smile lines to carve into each side. long fingers explore further, then, tracing softly against her hipbone; absentminded patterns sketched against her skin. “ i forgot how loud you snore, you know— don’t know how i’m supposed to ever get any sleep, if we keep on doing this each night, ” he’s teasing, of course, voice filtered with gaiety, but it soon falls away from him, eyebrows furrowing, as he begins to worry he’s said too much, too soon. “ i mean, that’s if you’re still wanting this... if you’re still sure about everything, about today. ” / @hurtingkind​

[bestcurse]

truthfully, miller doesn’t even remember what he had been sad about before he’d met her, tonight. he can remember broken shards of it now; the overwhelming sense of dread that had loomed above him like a darkening cloud, the melancholy that had been carved into his bones, permanently, somehow, as if he’d been carrying around those feelings with him for the entirety of his lifetime. but, with every step alongside her, further away and further away from what he’d left at that party, and into his new direction, with her at this side, he feels them diminishing, squashed by the soles of his shoes. and it’s clear, by the way he consistently turns his head to look over in her direction, a certain tenderness in his gaze, that he’s never had this happen to him, before— hasn’t ever experienced this unexplainable pull towards another person, a feeling that’s so strongly tied around his gut, pulsing through the rest of his frame. supposes that’s why he hadn’t been able to bring himself to say goodbye, just yet, to break for their separate ways. he just wanted to keep talking and talking, about anything, everything— nothing felt like it was off limits, right now. “ so, i think i’ve concluded you don’t have one bone in your body that would allow you to be an axe murder, ” he begins, trace of a smile apparent as he looks at her again, illuminated by the streetlamps they cross under. “ which means i’m pretty certain it’s safe to ask you to go sit on those swings with me, over there, without the risk of, like, being chopped up because there’s no one else around, or anything, ” and it’s a chuckle, then, that departs his lips, a sound that’s only beginning to sound authentic, now that he’s around her. he nods his head in the direction he was meaning, trying to gauge her reaction to the suggestion. but, it’s as he looks at her differently, in this new light, that he’s voicing something that’s been on the tip of his tongue, all night long. “ i know we’ve already spoken about this, but you’re sure we haven’t met before? i don’t know, this probably sounds fucking ridiculous, but i just feel like i know you, like i always have, from somewhere. ” / @hurtingkind​

[bestcurse]

fuck. this was the last thing miller had expected to walk in on— the last thing he had wanted to walk in on, finding the two in the way that they are, in the middle of a tiff. it’s evident upon his countenance, cheeks flushed a subtle crimson as his head bows, serving as a non-verbal apology for his unfortunate timing, as he stands there, alike to a deer caught in headlights. and he doesn’t register it at first, the words that begin their climb up from the depths of his throat, the way his gaze settles upon her, as if searching for any trace of damage that could come from raised voices, barbed words. “ everything okay in here? ” it’s smooth, gentle, even if his body language differs, pushing that much further into the kitchen, their space. a year ago, miller would have never thought he’d be here like this— a trip amongst friends, the both of them able to join, finally in a place where they had both agreed to resume their friendship. what he hadn’t expected, either, was for seeing them together, ring weighing promptly on her finger, to affect him so much, for that wound in his chest to reopen, to intertwine into every other piece of him. and as much as he welcomed the sense of normalcy, of her presence in his life again, he couldn’t deny how much it hurt; how heavy of a reminder it was of all that he’d fucked up in the span of a night, all that he’d lost. he felt it in every joke that they shared, every glance from across the room, every brush of their shoulders, their hands. it wasn’t as it was before— that was something they could never get back. for the sake of maintaining a friendship, however, he pushes it aside, plasters on a persona that shows he’s okay with this, with all that’s changed between them; that she’s getting married, that he isn’t hopelessly in love with her. still, even after all this time. finds it all put on the back burner, anyway, now that he’s intervened in their conversation, jaw taut as if to hide his obvious distaste towards the way she’s been spoken to, not just now but earlier in the night, too. “ shit, sorry— i didn’t mean to interrupt, either. i’ve just been tasked with grabbing another bottle, ” and it’s then that he’s reaching across the counter, hands clasped around the neck of an unopened bottle, cautious glance sent in her direction to determine if she was okay, without garnering any unwanted attention, trying to diffuse any heightened tensions. “ — either of you seen the bottle opener? ” / @hurtingkind​

[bestcurse]

it felt so misplaced, now— all that anger and confusion he once held towards her, that night everything came collapsing down around them; melted away merely from her name flashing across his screen. he hadn’t expected to hear from her, not after they went through so much turbulence during their last interaction, which provides the essence to his surprise when he does, but one quick glance at the time tells him that he shouldn’t have been; he didn’t know another soul that would be up at the same odd hour he is, other than her. and it doesn’t take long, for his eyes to scan over the message she’s sent, to absorb the word emergency, for him to be stopping his current task (which isn’t much, anyway), jacket and shoes pulled on, already heading in the direction of her apartment. with each step, the concrete foundation of his last decision, where he established a boundary they needed to stick to, where he expressed that he couldn’t be there for her in the way they were both accustomed to, crumbles away. it didn’t matter why she needed him, how long it had been since they’d last spoken, the reasoning behind why they weren’t speaking any longer— he’d always be there for her, in some way, would always feel that constant tug towards her. wasn’t as if that had dissipated in their second round of time apart; in fact, he was certain that the feeling would always live with him in some way, no matter how detrimental it was. it’s what has him pausing, now, closed fist raised to the front of her door, as if to determine whether or not he should proceed. but as quick as the doubt seeps in, it vanishes, fist knocking against the frame, because, as he had to remind himself, it didn’t matter; if she needed him, he’d be there, no questions asked. “ dev? ” he calls from the other side, as though he’s making his presence known, rather than letting himself in, like he once might’ve— he wasn’t exactly sure where they stood with that, any longer. “ it’s me... i— do you want me to come in? ” / @hurtingkind​

[bestcurse]

it might not look it from a glance in his direction, but miller can't quite remember the last time he's ever felt this miserable before. parties, he could usually handle— well, he's grown a lot more accustom to them, as of late, now that he's got devon, a kindred spirit to stick by— but tonight she's far out of reach, and he's been pushed towards someone their friends think would be a good match for him, introducing them both in the hopes that they'll hit it off. and it's not as though miller's trying to be rude, but he can't seem to help the way his eyes continue to drift over towards the person of his true affection, seemingly always able to find her, no matter how thick the crowd is, or where she ends up. but, it's here, when longing stares of his own shoot across the room, that confusion begins to settle within his frame, too. he knows that there's something deeper going on between the pair of them; that their illusion of just friends wasn't holding up any longer. truthfully, for him, it hasn't been since that night they shared their first kiss, but it's only in the aftermath of her previous relationship, once it had ended, that the sentiment has really rung true for him. it's stemmed from the nights they've spent glued at the hip; the new discoveries he makes of her each and every day, only liking her all the more, because of it. there's nothing else, really, that he'd like, other than to be directly by her side, right now, continuing to build on what they've already started to develop, but it's as he stands across the other side of the room, stuck in a loop of conversation he barely has an interest in, that he realises nothing's been set in concrete. that they've never had that conversation of exclusivity, or anything of the sort— that actually, this was a completely normal thing for him to be doing, considering he barely knows where he stands with her. and so, maybe with the aid of a few drinks, he finds himself entertaining the other as much as he can; not necessarily to raise feelings of jealously, or anything similar, but more so to garner an understanding of where they stood, what any of the past few weeks have meant. though, as much as he tries to, he can't hold out for very long, soon excusing himself under the guise of getting another drink, but really he's just looking for the excuse to bump into devon, which he does, once he reaches the kitchen. " oh, hey, " he begins, voice a little too casual, considering this is one of the first times he's spoken to her all night long, fingers reaching out for a fresh red cup. " having fun? " / @hurtingkind

[bestcurse]

it’s as if he can feel his high from the weekend they spent together melting away the closer they get to their destination, as if it’s evacuating his body with every step forward, nearing a reality he didn’t want to be apart of, one without her, without all they admitted to, all they had done together, over those days. he no longer knew how to return to that place, that world where they were only friends, where he respected the status of her relationship, didn’t consider a future where it was them together, somehow. that feeling has never left him, almost as though he can still feel all the places her lips met his bare skin, the trail her fingertips took along his flesh, the sensation burned there, for the rest of eternity. his feelings match it, heightened, thrumming throughout him like an electrical current. it’s why he gravitates closer, as they fall into step, enough so their shoulders bump, their hands brush, anything to prolong what he already recognises to be fleeting. and it’s then, not thinking any better of it, that his fingers stretch out, wrapping around her own, before he’s tugging her hand into his own, intertwining their fingers in the way he’s done a hundred times before, so naturally, effortlessly, but in a way that has his heart soaring, nonetheless. “ i know i’ve said it already, but i’m really fucking proud of you, of what you did tonight, you know, ” it’s not much louder than a whisper, though he’s certain she's still heard him, even over the bustling in the streets, all those they pass by, that they blend in with, hand-in-hand like they are now, as if this was their normal, too, as if there was nothing wrong with the gesture at all. he’s, of course, referring to the exhibition, of the pieces of her art she put on display, the very ones he couldn’t take his eyes off, examining each and every paint stroke, every fine line of detail, despite the copious amount of other people’s artwork that were exhibited, too. “ and i’m totally not being biased when i say that you were the most talented person there, ” while it comes mixed with a light chuckle, a light squeeze to her hand, his words are filled with nothing but verity, plucked directly from the most genuine place in his chest. he’s always thought the world of her, seen the very best, all the good she encompasses, and it’s on full display now, muddled into adoration that flashes within his hues, leaking into the smile that tugs at his lips. “ i just think it’s really brave, you know ? putting pieces of yourself out there like that, for everyone to see, so i’m just— i’m really happy for you, too. ” it’s a fact he’s lived with for awhile now, though, just how brave she really is; a lot braver than he’ll ever be, something he’s continuously admired about her, from the moment they met. he can’t ignore the ill feeling that tangles within his gut, as they continue along their path, one that twists and turns until it tells him that something isn’t quite right, tonight, almost warning him of danger ahead. as best as he tries to ignore it, suffocate it enough until it’s dull, he can’t help but tilt his head towards her, tongue parting his lips to wet at them. “ do you think maybe it’s best if i don’t come inside, tonight ? i can still walk you— i just, fuck, well, i just think it’s pretty shit how whatever he’s planning for you was more important than actually showing up, actually being there to support you, ” and it’s never failed him, really, how much his presence isn’t wanted, at these sorts of gettogethers. “ and i’m not sure if i can go by without saying anything, and the last thing i want to do is put a damper on something you should be really proud and happy about, too. ” / @hurtingkind​

[bestcurse]

moving on— a concept easier said than done, all things considered. at the end of the day, miller knew this was the best thing for him; to put himself back out there, chip away at the memories of devon that were engraved into him until they left nothing but a faint trail of dust, but it never worked out that way for him. never could when his entire orbit had been rearranged to be centred around her, as if there was a compass in his chest that directed him right back to her, each and every time. he’s trying his best to ignore that tonight, to pour his energy into the person he brought along with him, instead of giving into that gravitational pull that was tempting to tug him right back to devon’s side. to focus, instead, on something new— something that should be exciting, and good for him, open a realm of possibilities, but just seems to fall flat, no matter how he approaches it. inevitably, that’s what has him inching away from the crowd, the further the night progresses, suddenly in search of an outlet where he can be left alone with his own thoughts, question why he can’t even get this part right, devote his attention towards someone who’s made it clear they want him— without the pining, the hurdles, the game. it’s the easiest situation he’s found himself within in months, now that lines have been drawn again, boundaries to uphold, a clear development in his relationship, no, friendship, with devon. that’s where they’ve found themselves again, back at the square where there could be nothing more between them, and he’s trying his damn hardest to stick to that, to not cause more harm than good; the last thing he wanted. fresh air becomes the thing he seeks, unlit cigarette poised at his lips before he’s even crossed the threshold of the back door, fingers searching among pockets for a lighter he lost long ago. and it’s just as he begins to give up, about ready to ask around and bum a light elsewhere, that he spots her, heart coming to a slow halt, once he does. he marks the cigarette between his fingertips as he approaches her cautiously, shoulders tense, gaze a little shifty. “ hey, ” quite possibly the first thing he’s spoken to her all night. “ is it stupid of me to ask if you still carry around a lighter ? ” / @hurtingkind​

[bestcurse]

tonight seemingly mirrors every other night miller’s had, now that he and devon had gone their separate ways once again. there’s no ceiling he knows better than the one he lays beneath now, gaze tracing over every crack and rift that aligns the surface, trying to stop the existential dread that generally creeps in around this time. he’s got something new to think about, at least, following their conversation at their friends’ wedding, each and every word spoken embedded into his brain like it was yesterday. since then, he’s distanced himself again, barely able to function, now that she had released a secret of her own, that her feelings had once aligned with his own. he’s found that his days are long, and nights even lengthier, now that he’s got hold of the vital piece of information— missing information, that he’s been in the dark about, for all this past year. it’s hard not to consider what things might’ve been like, had they revealed their truths any easier, if he’d be asleep soundly right now, with her figure ingrained into the mattress beside him, if his days would feel less dreary, knowing that he got to come home to her. void of that, of a life that could’ve been so good, he’s found himself spiralling, once again, met with undeniable anguish at every turn. that sorrow never leaves him, even when he eventually pulls himself from his bed, in search of a journal, one that’s been haphazardly thrown across the room. it’s easier, he thinks, to transfer that suffering into words, into tangible sentences, rather than just living with it in the pit of his stomach, in the black hole that resides in the place his chest once did. there’s nothing beautiful about spilling raw emotions onto a blank page, however, and if he tilts his head right, squints his eyes, he’s certain that he can see his heartache tear at the paper, his blood dampen the pages. he’s deep in the rut of it, when there’s a knock at the door, pen falling straight from his hand and onto the floor, clearly not expecting the change of events in his night. he’s unsure exactly what time it is, just knows that it’s late, far too late to be expectant of any visitors. still, he saunters over to the front door, not really thinking twice as he reaches for the handle, pulling the door to his apartment wide open. breath catches in his throat at the sight that meets him, the rhythm of his heartbeat speeding up, thrashing wildly against his ribcage— already so much livelier, in comparison to how monotone his life has been, as of late. “ devon ? ” and it’s strange, he can’t deny, to hear her name brush off the tip of his tongue, since he usually shies away from it, now. one hand raises, just as the other grips tighter around the handle, to rub at his eye, as if trying to determine if this was just a figment of his imagination— a dream, if he was still in the bed beneath the cracks in the ceiling, and none of this was real. but, she’s still there when his hand drops, and he suddenly opts to search for a sign, a trace, of what brought her here, worry infiltrating his tone. “ are you okay ? ” beat. “ what are you doing here ? ” / @hurtingkind​

[bestcurse]

thought he had misunderstood, the first time he’d overheard it— that devon had brought her boyfriend with her, tonight. but then he’d heard it again, from someone else, directly to his face this time, questioning whether he knew if she had even been seeing anyone, in the first place. and while he had been aware that she’d gone on a few dates with the guy, to appease what her parents had asked of her, what he didn’t know was how serious it had become, so quickly. can remember it like yesterday, when she’d informed him of her first date with the other, someone her parents had set her up with— he’d been with her, as she got ready, leaving him behind for someone else, but that had never mattered to miller, since she still returned back into his arms, once the night came to an end, because she had still chosen him to fall asleep next to, to wake with in the morning. in fact, ever since that night where they had established they only wanted each other, everything had been running smoothly between them, avoiding any major bumps in the road, at least so he had thought. and maybe it was his own fault for thinking the outcome of that night would endure, that it wouldn’t end up crumbling right before his eyes, shattering between his own fingertips. he had been so close to all he had ever wanted, and now it felt like it had been ripped away in the blink of an eye, and the worst part was that she hadn’t even told him about it. but it wasn’t as if he could put all the blame on her shoulders, always finding a way to fault himself, in some form. had learned, from a very young age, that good things never lasted for long, that they never did quite want to stick around, for him. almost feels sorry for his foolishness, embarrassed by it, for thinking it may have been any different with her. and so, when it becomes too much to bear, completely insufferable to watch her boyfriend introduce himself as such to all their friends, miller results to slipping outside, away from the crowd to get some fresh air. lungs are in dire need of it, having stopped working, somewhere between hearing about him and seeing her with him. just needs some time, he thinks, to make sense of it, to calm the pool of anxiety flooding to his gut, to ease the cloud of tension suffocating his chest. should’ve known better to think he could’ve disappeared unnoticed, without a trace, because it isn’t long until he sees her face, following him out. it’s the first time he’s gotten an opportunity to speak to her, at least without prying eyes and ears. “ so, he’s your boyfriend, huh ? ” timbre is surprisingly calm for someone who felt as if he was going to disintegrate into tiny pieces, at any given second, mumbled through a breath, unlit cigarette clung between his teeth, as hands begin their search in his pockets for the lighter he swore he had on him only a few minutes ago. “ i’m no expert, but that might’ve been good to know, i don’t know, maybe before i was inside you this morning. ” comes with a mangled sound, somewhere crossed between a scoff and a chuckle, as he eventually calls his search off, no luck in finding his lighter. plucks the cigarette from his mouth, marking it between his fingertips as his gaze falls upon her; calm and composed. “ you told me it was only going to be a few dates, i was okay with a few dates— what the fuck changed ? ” / @hurtingkind

[bestcurse]

miller can’t remember the last time he wasn’t on edge about something, but he never thought he’d see the day where the dread that currently called his stomach home would come seeing devon. it wasn’t that he had purposefully been avoiding her since the night they shared; in his defence, it just turned out that way─ well, that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. he’s always been rather good at that, convincing himself of things he didn’t necessarily believe to be true, allowing himself to think he felt things that, deep down, he knew he didn’t. the opposite had occurred, following that night, so wrapped up in a moment so tender, so special, that it was in the aftermath, the days that followed, where he soon came to the realisation that he never really thought it through, to begin with─ just how much of a shift it could change, how it could alter their dynamic, a rare connection that was so hard to come by, one that meant so much to him, already. it scared him, the irreversible damage it could cause, and so, distancing himself seemed like the right thing to do, the only option that allowed for their friendship to come out the other side unscathed, especially when faced with just how much that night meant to him, accepting how it, even now, still caused his heart to swell in his chest, played in his mind on repeat. there was no amount of preparation that could have him ready to see her tonight, and yet it’s like his entire body knows she’s within his vicinity, as soon as she arrives─ palms suddenly sweaty, the hair on the back of his neck standing at full-attention, like there’s this buzz beneath the surface, a gravitational pull towards her. shouldn’t be surprised, then, to see her walk in, eyes meeting hers, just like they always tended to, already lost in whatever conversation he was having at the mere sight of her, unable to jump back in. that sensation he thought he had rid himself off trickles back in, that itch to be near her, to touch her, to have any form of contact with her. needs a little more liquid courage to do that, however, to move from the sticky floor beneath his soles, downing the rest of the liquid in his cup in one swift gulp, before excusing himself from the person he’d been with, and slowly making his way towards her, cup clutched in his hand, scrunching slightly further with each step that he takes. that buzz from earlier doesn’t hush until he’s standing in front of her, almost like she’s the only one that holds the ability to quieten it. “ hey, ” he starts, tongue darting out to wet at his lips. somehow, pretending that nothing had happened, that he hadn’t just avoided her for weeks, was harder than he expected. “ wasn’t sure if you’d come tonight, or not, ” has to inch closer, then, voice raised a notch to be heard over the music, though he doesn’t entirely mind the closeness, the warmth that radiated off of her aiding to the chill he felt down to the bone, over the course of their separation. he’d missed her, a fact that gnaws at him, the longer he looks at her, but even then, his gaze is a little shifty, unable to look her in the eye for a prolonged period. “ how’ve you been ? ” / @hurtingkind​

[bestcurse]

sms ✉️ : dev

miller: hey

miller: dont think i've even said that to u at all tn actually

miller: just thought i'd let u know that you're looking really good tonight, birthday girl

miller: oh, and that i saw the cake they expect us to love & it's the perfect size to shove ur face into :)