#orange juice by noah kahan

[poetryshawke]

“[orange juice is] about two friends reconciling after […] a tragic accident that kind of seperated them”

dead poets society (1989) / orange juice by noah kahan

[dancing-with-stars]

THAT ONE PART IN ORANGE JUICE BY NOAH KAHAN WHERE HE SAYS THAT THERES ORANGE JUICE IN THE KITCHEN AND ITS YOURS IF YOU WANT IT LIKE BRO HIS VOICE WHEN HE SAYS THAT OMGGGGGGGGG

[aaronstveit]

okay i wanna play. what's the first song on your wrapped that has a color in the title?

[blueskiesrry]

orange juice

The party has well passed its expiration date by the time Louis gives in to his urge to call Harry. A circle has formed in the kitchen around the island, dwindlers and wanderers who aren’t quite ready to brave the cold and go home. It’s Louis’ favorite part of a party, when all who remains are people longing for human connection, and he knows it’s Harry’s favorite part, too. It’s as Louis watches his friends toss jokes and stories across the expanse of stone that he aches for Harry.

He excuses himself to stand just outside the kitchen, keeping an eye on his friends as he dials Harry’s number. Harry doesn’t leave Louis waiting long before he answers.

“Hey,” Harry’s deep voice melts through the speaker, honey dripping on Louis’ feet.

“Hey,” Louis replies, crossing an arm over his chest. Harry has only been back for a few weeks, and Louis knows that it’s his own fault they haven’t spoken much in that time. He’s been avoiding going to see him, knowing what conversation awaits him, and has instead opted for a phone call or two and some superficial texting.

“What’s going on?” Harry asks. Louis wonders if he’s woken him up. It is quite late.

“I–” Louis starts, but stops himself. He’s not sure why he's calling or what he planned to say. “You should come over,” he settles on saying. “To Niall’s, I mean. It was a party, but it’s winding down now.”

Harry’s breathing comes in soft waves through the receiver. “Lou, I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“Right, yeah,” Louis is quick to say. “It’s just, I’d, um– there’s orange juice. In the kitchen. If you want it. No one here will say anything about it or ask questions that you don’t want to answer. We just–I mean, I’d just really like to see you.” Louis looks through the kitchen, staring at his own glass of orange juice sat on the island right where he left it.

Harry sighs softly. “I don’t know…” Harry’s voice is small, like he’s not quite done, so Louis waits, counting Harry’s breaths as he does, a reminder that the boy only a few miles away is very much alive. “Louis, I–”

“Don’t,” Louis cuts him off.

He knows that tone in his voice, and he won’t let Harry say anymore about it. Louis closes his eyes and the image of the car on the side of the road with Harry behind the wheel flashes behind his eyelids. The picture of Harry in the waiting room of the hospital with not even a nick on his finger. The sound of Harry asking Louis to hold him, telling him he’ll see him soon. But then it’s Harry at fifteen, whispering under the stars in the garden that he thinks he might like boys, and Harry at seven, insisting he hold Louis’ hand while they cross the street, and Harry at four, showing Louis his purple nails that his sister painted for him, and the urge Louis had, even then, to protect Harry from everything. His lungs are deflating balloons.

“Why didn’t you visit?” Harry asks quietly, his voice breaking in between.

I don’t know, Louis wants to say. I wanted to. I wanted to call everyday and write you stupid, sappy letters that you probably would’ve loved and kept forever, but I was afraid. I was afraid, and I still am, and I’m sorry that I failed to protect you from this. The words stick to his skin and fill his mouth with cotton, getting lost in the back of his throat.

“Maybe you can come over tomorrow. We can catch up, just the two of us,” Louis says instead. It’s the coward's way out, he knows that, but he’s not prepared yet to have the conversation that Harry wants to have.

Harry is quiet for so long that the only reason he knows Harry is still on the line is his soft breathing. “Alright,” he says eventually, and the knot in Louis’ stomach unwinds just a little.

[mothmanavenue]

and you said “my heart has changed and my soul has changed and the world has changed”

[art-cmiis]

feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home for so long

[buck2eddie]

it's yours if you want it.

[unluckyslotmachine]

i wish i could put “ability to relate every noah kahan song to the raven cycle” on my resume

[booksandothersecrets]

The Exit, Conan Gray // Gretel in Darkness, Louise Glück // Orange Juice, Noah Kahan

[oliwithwings]

NO ACT 3 SPOILERS IN THIS!! (i still havent watched it yet pray for me)

[squash1]

“at lunchtime i bought a huge orange - / the size of it made us all laugh / i peeled it and shared it with robert and dave - / they got quarters and i had a half.

and that orange, it made me so happy, / as ordinary things often do / just lately. the shopping. a walk in the park.

this is peace and contentment. it's new.

the rest of the day was quite easy. / i did all the jobs on my list / and enjoyed them and had some time over.

i love you. I'm glad I exist.”

[the orange by wendy cope / the dream thieves / orange juice by noah kahan / we are okay by nina lacour]

[torturedbitchesdepartment]

how’s everyone enjoying stick season (we’ll all be here forever)

[cowboy-by-proxy]

Trying to speed run finishing my sketchbook, so here’s some spreads from the other night!

Some funky colored illustrations an then some thumbnails for a sticker I’m planning on making!!

[suffering-asthmatic-tifosi]

I am vry proud of my founding father handwriting 😌 and now you know my favorite songs

[heavybreathingswift]

Noah Kahan writes songs for the girls who allowed their passive anger to slowly fill up their entire existence until they went blind with it

[high-quality-assorted-chaos]

inej ghafa / orange juice, noah kahan