#sh: neilivia

[kaneswrites]

“Maybe I don’t need to be drunk to admit it.” Olivia & Neil 😘

My eyebrows raise at Olivia’s frustrated words, a small smile teasing at my lips. She paces around my empty living room for a minute longer before sinking down on the couch, fingers curling against the end of blonde hair. Her bottom lip trembles, a sign that shes nervous, but I let her come to terms with it without speaking up.

I’m searching for my own words in the process, wondering what is the best thing to say at a moment like this. We’ve never been shy around each other, never been speechless or nervous but that has changed since the night we made out after one too many drinks at a party. Things have been… Tense, to say the least. Olivia and I have been shifting between barely being able to be around each other stuttering and being near kiss every two seconds. It’s freaking confusing and it leaves me on edge, but the last thing I want is to add more pressure to our friendship. The last thing I want is to lose her because I can’t keep my thoughts in check. Which admittedly, I’m having a hard time doing now.

All I fucking think about is what happened last time.

Shit.

“I didn’t want you to regret something like that, Liv. I know how important it is to you.” I tell her quietly, crouching down in front of her. My hands rest on her thighs and I curse myself for it because if sends a jolt of electricity through my body when it should be an innocent thing. A touch meant to comfort her. My best friend leans closer, her fingertip brushing against my cheek delicately. Her eyes search mine for more, for the words I can’t seem to muster, and we both smile. “It was never something I could only admit while drunk— It’s been a reality for years. It’s a fucking reality for me now.” I growl, motioning down to my very evident boner. Liv giggles, biting her lip sensuously.  “I just don’t want you to feel pressured.”

[peltzwrites]

text: i need my partner in crime. pleaseeee. / text: you look beautiful in that dress. / text: can't stop thinking about what happened. // neilivia ☀️

text: i need my partner in crime. pleaseeee

olivia → neil: but it’s raining and we’re in a fight...olivia → neil: you’re lucky i love you and i bought the cutest black pair of shoes just for this

text: you look beautiful in that dress

olivia → neil: i know that i said we were coming separately but... can you just, um, come dance with me?olivia → neil: parker, he... he ditched me, because i didn’t want to go down on him? i don’t knowolivia → neil: i just wish you were here

text: can't stop thinking about what happened.

olivia → neil: really? me either...olivia → neil: come over, we can talk about it? or not talk about it— whichever you prefer!! 😘

[kaneswritesarchives-blog]

"it's just... i thought i had this figured out, and i don't. i don't know what i want." neilivia 💔

A part of me has been expecting this day to come ever since we started doing this. It seems stupid that, being best friends, we haven’t properly talked about the fact that we’re having sex more often than a couple that is supposedly just experimenting should, but I guess I was too scared it would come to this. “Um, that’s— Yeah” I nod, forcing a smile upon my features. It’s fake and Olivia sees through it, but I step back when she steps forward, refusing the comfort right now. Maybe I’m just being too sentimental, but being close to her now that I’ve been rejected hurts more than being apart.

Running a hand through my hair, I breathe out slowly. This is something I’ve been waiting for, right? I mean I knew Olivia was just trying to figure things out, that she wanted to be intimate with someone she trusted to make sure her firsts didn’t get tainted by a bad experience. That’s done, so why would she continue to sleep with her best friend? “It’s okay, Liv. You don’t need to explain.” I tell her calmly, despite the pain that grows in my chest. Usually, I’d go to her for these kinds of thing, but now… I can’t do that. I can’t explain to her what I’m feeling. Not anymore. “It’s over, we don’t do it again. Don’t stress. No hard feelings.” I continue, ignoring her attempts to say something— do something to make me stay. I turn away nonetheless, taking my jacket and keys. “We’ll talk later, I have something to do with James so I really can’t stay.”

It’s a lie, and once more she notices it. But I don’t stop, even as I hear my best friend start crying as a close the door.

[kaneswrites]

“I don’t think you know what you want.” Olivia & Neil 😘

While I’ve always been hotblooded, I’ve never once snapped at Olivia. Maybe it was because I knew she was the one person who didn’t deserve my anger or the fact that she’d never once actually annoyed me. Liv was everything good in my life, a moment of hope even through dark times when I believed I’d never be able to live up my family’s name and reputation. I’d always be the fuck up young kids made fun of at eight and the young adult they were waiting to see fail at twenty-three. But with her, I was someone worthy. Someone special. It felt so fucking good.

This time, however, I can’t help but feel the sting of her words, her tone angry rather than the usual sweet. I don’t blame her. We’ve been going back and forth for years now, taking one step forward and then two steps back when it comes to our relationship, but can you blame me? She’s my best friend, I can’t just ignore that and jump at the chance of happiness without worrying I might screw up the one bright thing — aside from my family — I have in life. We’ve been friends all our lives, but boyfriend and girlfriend? Hell, I’ve never got involved with a girl for long enough to call her my girlfriend, there’s no part of me that has a clue of how to do this without fucking things up. And then what?

“Are you being serious right now?” I snap, running my hand through my hair nervously. It must have been the millionth time in the last ten minutes, but it’s a nervous gesture I just can’t shake for the life of me. My hands itch to touch her, to pull her close and kiss her senseless until we forget all about this, but that isn’t in the cards for tonight. “I don’t know what I want?” Olivia doesn’t reply to me, pacing around with her baby blue eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. She’s mad at me, I can tell that just by watching her, but there’s still sweetness in her gaze. As if she was ready to jump at the chance of making me feel better despite the fact that I was getting into her nerves with my inability to decide what’s best for us.

“So what? Are we putting this on me? Because you haven’t been exactly open about whatever you want to do either.” I growl, giving her a hard look. I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t stand the idea of being accused of not showing her my feelings when all I’ve tried was protect her own. I can’t fuck this up. I can’t disappoint her. I just can’t. “Fucking sue me for not acting on impulse. I have too much to lose.” And I can’t lose you. That last sentence, I don’t say.

[peltzwritesarchive-blog]

instagram + olivia sulkin 💫

[peltzwritesarchive-blog]

"so, new boyfriend, huh?" neilivia

Oh, fuck — I know that voice. To be honest, it’s one of those voices that a part of me knows I’ll never forget, not after all of those memories it’s a part of. And that’s the truth, honestly. There isn’t a single treasured memory in my life in which that voice didn’t play some role or another, he’s everything. Fuck, he’s everywhere. 

This confrontation was bound to happen eventually, I suppose, so I turn back to Neil almost instantly. “Hey.” I look over my shoulder, praying Caleb isn’t making his way back to me. With my luck, he’d be only a few steps away, holding our twin glasses of champagne in his hand. But after a moment of not seeing him, a sigh of relief spills from my lips. One not missed by my best friend, if the expression on his face is any indication.

We live in a small town, one where practically everyone is connected in some way, so the mere idea of him knowing that Caleb and I have a thing isn’t too far of a stretch. If we lived in a big city, maybe. But Savannah’s pretty close-knit, and people in our social circles generally talk — so yeah, maybe I should’ve been prepared for this conversation. Maybe I should’ve had some response prepared — because I’m honestly not sure that he’ll really buy the truth.

"Well—” I start, my arms curling around my chest. It’s a bad habit of mine, a means of curling in on myself when I’m nervous and it’s a protective mechanism I know my best friend will recognize immediately. While I don’t know if it’ll be enough to make him back off, I know it’ll be enough to make him worry — because regardless of what’s transpired between us, he’s never once wanted to hurt me. He steps forward, no doubt wanting to comfort me, but I swallow, shaking my head.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I whisper softly, my blue eyes flickering up to meet Neil’s own. “I mean... we’re friends? My grandparents set us up, they think we’re dating or whatever— you know they are. They wanted me to have a nice boyfriend to take to my grandfather’s parties.” A sigh spills from my lips. “But it’s nothing you need to worry about, if you were worried.”

Almost on instinct, I reach for Neil, despite not knowing if I’m even allowed to touch him now. “He’s nothing, okay? I’m... I’m pretty sure I’m in love with someone else, just.. waiting to see how he feels too.”

[peltzwritesarchive-blog]

"stop running away." neilivia

I haven’t talked to Neil since last night, and honestly, I have no desire to change that. Most people would assume that we’d had a fight, that something had gone wrong. After all, what other reason does a girl have to avoid her best friend? There aren’t many, none that I can think of, but in Neil and mine’s case, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Because honestly, we aren’t fighting; we merely just aren’t speaking at all. I don’t know how to explain what happened, and I don’t even know if I want to begin to try, so when I saw Neil a few minutes ago, I’ll admit it... my first instinct was to run. 

Yeah, I’ll admit that it probably wasn’t the most mature reaction I’ve ever had. I know it wasn’t and honestly, I’m ashamed of how I reacted. There’s never been a moment in my life where I considered myself a coward, where I thought I was the sort of girl that would run from my problems. It’s never been my style, and it’s something that I thought I’d outgrown in regards to Neil. When we were younger, I was always the one to stay away after arguments but I thought I’d grown up since then. And for fuck’s sake, we’re not even fighting. But here I am, still the one trying to run away.

Running with heels on is admittedly harder than I expected. It’s not something I’ve tried before, and after this experience, where I’ve almost tripped over my own feet at least six times, it’s not something I’ll be looking to try again. It’s not as if I have any other options now, but after maybe forty steps, I’ve had enough of running. Or tripping, more accurately. So with a sigh, I turn back towards my best friend. “What?”

There’s no trace of malice in my tone, signifying the fact that I’m not angry with him in the slightest. We both knew this prior to the conversation even beginning, because like I said, this isn’t a fight. No one’s mad in this situation, I’m just... embarrassed. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to you,” I speak in a broken voice, my hands clutching at the fabric of my dress. “We— we kissed, Neil. We kissed, and you were the one to stop it.” A shallow breath shakes my shoulders, and I finish softly. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you to kiss me for years, and you... you pulled back and didn’t tell me why.”

[kaneswritesarchives-blog]

"Why is your hand on my ass?" neilivia 😘

Now there is a tricky question a guy who happens to have a crush on his best friend isn’t exactly looking forward to answer.

If I’m being entirely honest, I don’t know how answer. We had been drinking for the past couple of hours, laughing at stupid jokes and making fun of everything together when she had to go to the bathroom and I was left alone by the bar. Normally that wouldn’t get me to this state of jealousy, but the comments I heard as Olivia walked away were enough to get me on my nerves. Can you fucking blame me? I’ve spent most of my life loving this girl from afar, watched her and her annoying dates more times than I wish to remember and heard the flirting thrown her way— I’ve had enough by now.

So fucking sue me, I acted on impulse the moment she got out of that bathroom and rushed to her, tugging her towards my body almost possessively. No words left my lips until she noticed how my hands drifted down to a not so chaste place. My lips part, but for a moment I’m speechless, gently moving my hands away. More than anything, I want Olivia to be comfortable with me, and that won’t happen if I act like one of her creepy dates. “Um, sorry, I just—” Licking my lips, I fight a frustrated groan. Love shouldn’t be so hard, should it? “Those guys were talking about trying to take you home tonight, so I pretended to be your boyfriend. You know, to protect you and all— like the best best friend in the world I am.” Man, that title has never tasted so bitter as it does now. “Was that so bad?” I add playfully, with a mischievous look on my eyes. “I make a great boyfriend.”

[peltzwrites]

“i’m not mad.” neilivia

When people look at me, there’s about a million things they think. I’ve heard the whispers, the talk of how I’m just a pretty, innocent rich girl who doesn’t have a clue about the world. For most people, they assume that my popularity amongst my peers was enough to shield me from those whispers, assuming I was never hurt by any of it. However, they couldn’t be more wrong — it wasn’t the popularity that protected me, but the rebellious artist who stood beside me. He was my home, my safe place, and even now, when I’m filled with too much regret and confusion to bear, that’s what he is.

My best friend — because that’s all I’ll ever be.

I came over late last night, an apology and cookies in hand, and I don’t even know when I fell asleep. It was somewhere between the confession that my date hours before had been terrible and when he snuck into James’ room to steal a bottle of alcohol for us — to cheer me up, he’d said. After hearing my story about how disastrous my date had been, Neil had kissed my cheeks, wiping away my tears without realizing the true cause of them.

As always when I’m hungover — one of the inevitable problems of being a lightweight, I was a bit snappy with him as we woke up this morning. Hardly enough to provoke a fight or anything, but still enough that all I want in this moment is to pull him close, just to ask him to hold me. Neil and I hardly ever fight, something I attribute to the fact that it’s only me who’s bitter over unreciprocated feelings, but it still doesn’t save me from wanting to pull him close now. Standing over his bed, wearing only his t-shirt that barely reaches the tops of my thighs, I wiggle a coffee cup in his direction, trying to get his attention. He looks up from his phone, no doubt seeing from my expression that I’m trying to apologize again, and his words cause me to laugh.

Without waiting for a proper response, I crawl into bed beside him and I look up at my best friend, exhaling a shallow breath. “I know you’re not mad,” I remark softly, my hand moving to his chest as I make myself comfortable. “You’re too good to be mad, I think… but it doesn’t mean I enjoy fighting with you. I’m sorry for snapping this morning, I just— I want last night to be the last time I go out on a date with yet another guy that I don’t even like.” I wrinkle my nose. “I guess unreciprocated crushes make me a little mean, I’m sorry.”