You walked up to him, wearing that oh so familiar smile. He stayed where he was, hands clamped behind his back, wearing a predatory grin as you sauntered closer, so close your chests pressed together and he could feel your heartbeat, beating at a steady, healthy pace. “Anti…” you whispered, lips ghosting over his own his smile widened as he brought his hands to the nape of your neck to mash your lips together. He rushed the kiss, being as rough as he liked, as his hands slithered to surround the rest of your neck…and he squeezed. Your lips flew off of his as your hands started clawing at his own, eyes begging for him to release you, but he held the exact same smile as he felt your heartbeat pound fast and rhythmless, and as your eyes finally misted over and you fell onto the cold floor with a loud thud, he let out a deranged laugh.
He was not laughing as he woke though, instead anti had to stop himself from crying out as he opened his eyes and looked upon your sleeping form, with his arm draped over your upper body-no, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he realised he wasn’t stretching over your chest like usual, his arm was hanging over your neck. Anti scuttled away from you, falling off your shared bed.
His breathing was irregular as he stepped towards your side of the bed and let out an inward cry of relief when he had made sure you were unhurt. But Anti had never ever wanted to seriously hurt you, he’d never had a desire to kill you of all people before, but that dream felt so real and he couldn’t help but wonder why he’d dreamt it and if it meant anything. He felt sweaty and needed to do something with his newfound pent up energy, he ran to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water repeatedly, hoping he could shock some sense into himself. He almost jumped through the ceiling when he felt your hand on his shoulder, he hadn’t realised you had followed behind him and he spun around quickly.
“Anti?” You yawned, your voice scratchy. “Why are you up, it’s only 6am?” You asked trying to read his face, “are you okay?” Anti’s look of shock crumpled to a look of shame as he tried to play off what had happened, you didn’t need to know anything of it. He shrugged not caring much to answer which surprised you since he was normally such a chatterbox “are you?” He asked solemnly. “What, of course I am.” You responded still too tired to try and understand his thought process right now and since he didn’t seem to be in the mood to strike up conversation you took matters into your own hands “look, I’m already awake, why don’t you finish…washing up, and we can find some crappy day time tv to watch together? Okay?” He nodded, still not speaking so you just nodded back, except before leaving you gave him your everyday morning kiss on the cheek, but you didn’t notice that today, he flinched when you made contact.
20 minutes later he slouched around the corner of the room where he saw you spread across the couch and when you saw him you patted the space in between your legs, inviting him over. He took his time laying down and finding a comfortable resting position for the next few hours and after he stopped shuffling he finally felt relaxed as he rested his head against your shoulder and closed his eyes. At first he was at ease. You noticed he was cuddlier than usual considering he used to whine about cuddling, saying it was boring and pointless, but now he was laying there, complacent, even curling up to snuggle against you, which delighted you. He didn’t make a sound as you braved to reach out your fingers and glide them through his green hair, in fact as you kept repeating the movement you knew he wasn’t finding it all that terrible as he sighed into you. With his bashful behaviour and his lips slightly parted like that you couldn’t help yourself from pressing a soft kiss against them. He responded to you after a few seconds when he started to kiss back, it was so unusually feather light you hadn’t even noticed he’d started kissing back at first. As you pressed your lips more firmly against his, he pried his eyes open to take in the image of you gifting him with your touch. He closed his eyes once again as he slowly started deepening the kiss, taking care not to hurt you, even cradling the back of your head as you held your long embrace. He used to love feeling your touch, a sign you were comfortable with him and you were affectionate towards him, but he found himself wishing none of those were true, as the image of your dead body in his hands flashed back into his mind.
He shivered and you both tensed upon feeling it. He removed his hands from where they were settled on you and slowly got up from the sofa. He could tell you were hurt but still distanced himself from you, shoving his hands in his pockets and avoiding eye contact. “H-have I upset you?” He heard you whisper from where you still lay on the couch. His heartstrings pulled at how small your voice sounded but he found that when he looked at you he now couldn’t see the bright sparkle of your eyes, instead the dull emptiness he had created in his dream. “No, it’s nothin’” he said in response to your question and before you could question him any more he shuffled out of the room, leaving you confused, hurt and alone on the couch.
In fact your confusion and hurt only worsened throughout the day, as whenever you walked into a room he occupied, moments later he would mumble an excuse and leave. You hadn’t spoken to him all day and you’d barely seen him since the morning.
You decided that since nothing eventful seemed like it was going to happen you were going to go to bed early, you didn’t even bother informing Anti about it and headed there. You found that, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t sleep, with all the questions that had formed in the day itching to be answered. You’d been laying, eyes closed, for hours trying to get to sleep but to no prevail. Your chest tightened upon realising that he might not even come, you two had been so distant that day. But you were thankfully wrong when, thinking you were fast asleep, he quietly walked into the room. But you weren’t fully satisfied as, instead of pulling you against him like usual, he seemed to be on the edge of the bed, as far away from you as possible. You were facing the wall and he was facing your back, you could feel his eyes on you, not realising you were wide awake. After lots of awkward silence and debating whether to inform the entity you were awake and pin them down so he had to answer your questions you felt the sensation of someone playing with your hair. Not so much that it could have stirred you from sleep but enough so that anti had the satisfaction of touching you whilst being as far away from you as possible.
Hours after you had felt the twirling fingers cease their caress you still hadn’t managed to sleep, unlike him. You were really upset about the whole situation and couldn’t put it off your mind. But you were stirred from your stupor when you were kicked quite hard in the calf. You turned over to put your lights on and face anti but you discovered that he was still asleep, and shaking wildly. The whole room was filling with static and his face was contorted, like he was in pain in some way. You put your hands on his shoulders and leant your face over his, still keeping a distance so he wouldn’t head butt you as you shook him awake “Anti? Hey, wake up!” You said, loud enough to pull him out of sleep. As soon as he made eye contact with you, however, his eyes widened in horror and he glitched into the nearest electronic device which seemed to be your alarm clock.
You fell onto your face as he disappeared, losing your balance, and when you looked up he was gone. You didn’t know what you had done to make him feel this way. And despite your strong will you found yourself crying. At first you were silently shivering with your face buried in your blankets but as you knelt upwards and covered your face with your hands you let out multiple sobs, and tears streamed down your face as your cries increased.
Anti didn’t want to get too close to you but he couldn’t just stand there watching you cry. As he appeared In front of you he slowly pointed to your leg where a bruise had already started forming “D-did I do that?” He asked quietly, shocked he had hurt you, even in his subconscious, but wasn’t that what he feared right now, his subconscious hurting you, like it had just done in his now recurring dream. Upon hearing his voice your sobs stopped but your last tears kept falling as you rose your head to look him in the eyes. You didn’t answer his question. You had bigger ones for him. You were staring at him with tear filled eyes and Anti’s voice started getting shaky as he spoke. You knew anti didn’t really cry and that he had other indicators to show how he was feeling, his voice shaking like that usually meant he was upset or scared. You desperately wanted this resolved but knew that a relationship needed both people to want that too. “What happened Anti? What’s made you like this recently?” Anti bit his lip in shame and looked down at the floor, how could he admit that he had killed you in his dream? He couldn’t! When you didn’t get an answer you told Anti the logistics of the situation “if we can’t talk to each other, and can’t be in the same room as each other… then what’s the point of being together?” Anti loathed the idea but found himself thinking over the possibility that maybe it would be best for you, but upon seeing your tear stained eyes and knowing he was the cause he couldn’t stop himself from slowly extending his palm towards you, so you could take it and gently lead him back into the bed.
He sat in your lap with his back against your chest so he didn’t have to look you in the eye when he said what he had to. And you wrapped your arms around his waist as he explained his nightmares to you in a quiet voice, stuttering when he told you the worst part and you kissed him on the shoulder inviting him to finish. You finally understood why he’d been so distant that day, “Anti, I’m glad you told me this…” he huffed at that “it was probably you being scared of the possibility of hurting me rather than actually wanting to” you reasoned smiling sadly at how he’d buried this. He turned to lean his side into your chest rather than his back so he could read your facial expressions. “Really?” He asked “you’re not scared of me?” He was searching your eyes to find a hint that you were lying when you said this, he couldn’t find one. “Anti, the most scared I’ve been of you was when I walked in on you trying to learn freestyle dance” you reassured him. He giggled at this and carefully nuzzled into your collarbone so you could cradle him. And after a blessed day of silence you knew his usual wit was back when he whispered “I have sick moves…” and you were glad he was back to his normal, boisterous self. “Well, maybe you couldn’t use those moves right now and just stay still like this for a little longer” you said, tightening your grip around his waist and he obliged, but soon you both lay down rather than sitting up as sleep overtook you both and when Anti woke with his arms protectively around your torso and you resting cheek to cheek he concluded that it was one of the best nights sleep he’d ever had.
can you write something about moving to another planet?
i dreamt i followed the little rocketship you drew on my wrist in sharpie / fifth grade summer heat & your dad forgot to pick you up from school again / so we stole a cardboard box from my attic / so i found a crumpled golden ticket in my jean pocket / so we left for stars / the citrine skies / where the satellites can’t follow / melded our bodies into space junk / gravity only holds us down / every constellation north of here is our history / in cyclic bloom / house warming / the new place is quiet / nothing obstructs our view / when the sun explodes / we’ll clink our glasses / we’ll be the first to watch it all end.
Love affair or is it love with a fare?
Seated somewhere between these two,
though I don’t know
which is the lesser of these juxtapositions.
Crumple these thoughts
and toss them next to the pile of receipts.
It seems in my effort to fight loneliness and find love
I always end up paying for two
instead of eating alone.
Can you imagine Harry had to get up early to go to the studio so he didn't get to kiss you and your 4 months old baby goodbye so when you awake you get you and your little adorable baby ready to go and see him in the studio and when you arrive he gets surprised because he wasn't expecting and heads straight for the baby even forgetting to give you a kiss hello
Hmm yes, I can.
You’d wake up with a little sliver of sunlight cracking through the curtains and Fee emitting quite coos of content in her bassinet next to you as she’s just starting to wake up. You roll over expecting Harry to be next to you but when you see the empty space and the crumpled sheets you remember with a frown that he had to go to the studio early this morning.
With a heavy sigh you got up pulling your little girl against your chest her hands instantly grabbing at your shirt telling you that she was ready for a morning feed. Pulling your shirt down you gave her what she wanted while pressing a gentle kiss to your head.
While you were feeding her it dawned on you that you had nothing to do today and you hadn’t been out of the house in while and a trip to the studio to see Harry would have helped your sanity.
So once you were finished feeding her you quickly got dressed, changed Fee and made sure that you put the noise cancelling headphones into the baby bag. Fee sat quietly in the back in your way to the studio, even as you made a quick trip through the McDonalds drive through because you knew Harry wouldn’t have remembered to get breakfast.
Your hands were full as you walked into the studio Fee was starting to fuss in her car seat ready to be let out, in one hand, the baby bag was over your shoulder and the McDonalds in the other hand. Jeff gave you a smile when you came in but your eyes were on Harry as he sung into the mic.
Harry’s eyes meet yours once you sat the carrier down onto the couch in the room and a smile pulled at his lips and you could see that he lost all interest in singing.
“Hey baby girl.” was the first thing he said as he finished with the song and making his way over to you.
Your eyebrows rose as Harry stepped straight past you to pick up Fee to which she squealed in delight. “Did you bring me some breekie?” he asked her in a high toned voice while peppering her cheeks with kisses. “Bring daddy some food yeah ya did? That was nice of ya. Didn’t get to give you a kiss this morning did I.”
“Excuse me Harry, I don’t believe I got a kiss this morning either.” Harry smiled at your words, his eyes flicking over to look at you before they moved back to the identical eyes his daughter had.
“You think mummy should get a kiss?” He asked Fee and you could hear everyone else in the room chuckling lightly as you glared at your husband.
Fee gurgled and grabbed Harry’s shirt to pull it into her mouth. “Yeah I think she deserves a kiss.”
Harry turned, his hold tight on Fee as he leaned down to kiss your lips. “She gave me you, i think she deserves it.”
I’m in love with the things
that don’t love back
that can’t love back
In love with places
that my feet have never touched
I’m in love with people
that don’t want my love
that don’t need me
And I can’t help but wait
I’ve waited long before
and though it was a disappointment
the voyage I fell for was how things would be when he came back
when she came back
But they never did
I loved and I loved
I loved with a love so deep
My scars would show it
Watch how he treats waiters and speaks to his sister and acts when you win your third round of spit. Does he untangle the christmas lights with care? Fuck this. Hold that. Make sure you listen. When you’re late –overtired and dead in the eyes– watch him. Does he draw you close and talk you into slow dancing around your shoebox bedroom? Tell him a joke and wait for his lungs to bleed laughter. If they don’t, you should leave. Or stay and watch him cook dinner and fold laundry. Flip pancakes. Touch your underwear and sigh. Oh! Kids and dogs, too. Puppies, preferably. These are good indicators. Does he dip low to greet them? Small things might scare him, and if they do, you should leave. Or don’t. Or tiptoe around him until the tension erupts. Storm Warning. Code Red. Listen to him sing in the shower. Billy Joel. Elton John. Elvis, but only around Christmas time. Forgive, but don’t forget. And fuck. All the time. Don’t ever call it making love. That's idiotic, and you know it. Do it in your childhood bed after your parents fall asleep. Just once and only for the adrenalin. A quickie. A never have I ever completed. Afterwards, tell him about the time you lost your virginity to James Nelson in the backseat of his mom’s mini van. Tell him you think you were too young, but mean you wish you could take it back, and let him see you bare for a moment. Let him kiss you hard like he’s trying to tell you something, but don’t make any assumptions. He could be too drunk, after all. He’s always too drunk. Have the kids talk, the marriage talk, the my side of the bed talk. If you survive all of this, you should stay. Unless you say, “We need to talk,” and he squirms. This is cruel, but ultimately effective. Or maybe try, “I love you.” This, I warn you, is even crueler. When he says it back, ask why, and listen as he hands you pebble after pebble of ego. Don’t be fooled. You can still leave. That’s still an option. Clothes thrown haphazardly into a suitcase- his or yours, you honestly can’t remember. You say you want more, and he asks of what. It’s ok not to know, but even if you do know, don’t you dare clue him in. For once in your life play hard to get. Watch him watch you half-way through the threshold of something brand new. Does he cry? Not now, necessarily, just ever. If he didn’t cry when you watched The Titanic, you should leave. Unless he’s crying now. Which he is. Holy shit. Unpack your bag slowly, sock by sock, and let yourself wonder if you’re making the right decision. Let your heart break a little for the other side of the coin. Does he care about people? Not just you, but people. Humanity. Peace on earth. But then, okay, does he care about you? Enough, I mean. Does he care about you enough? He’s here now, and he says your name like a prayer, like a curse, like a thing he thought he’d lost in the fire. And then he’s mad as hell. Wait for him to clench his fists and practice patience. Push his buttons if you like, but don’t expect him to play nice. Sleep on the couch, just for a night, and hold on tight when he carries you back to your bed, his bed, in the middle of the night. Don’t bring it up in the morning. He’ll just blame it on your sleepwalking, and that’ll spark another fight about nothing. And by nothing I mean everything. Watch him pour your coffee a week later and add two sugars and a cream, just how you like it. Does he still pray under his breath right before bed? Listen to the way he says, “Amen,” and compare it to the way he traces your brow when he thinks you’re still asleep. He’s too proud to act that way in front of his parents. Or anyone else, for that matter. Look through his drawers, top to bottom, and swallow the thrill that arises when you find the crumpled love note you once left on his desk at the job that he quit last year. Remember the way he used to call you darling. Mourn for a moment, only a moment, the way he used to be. And watch him that night, stroking the cat you couldn’t leave at the shelter, and let yourself wonder what life might be like without him. If the answer scares you or excites you or makes you tuck your feet up under your legs, stop. Breathe. He’s staring at you, waiting for answers. Scoot a little closer. You know what to do.
R E A D Y F O R I T: is a more of a warning than a question. a sign of things to come. a simple warning shot before the gunfight. to let you know that something is about to happen. telling you to prepare yourself. it’s just the beginning in the over all story.
E N D G A M E: is for the lovers who, despite the odds, believe they can make it through this crazy game called life. it’s wanting to break your reputation of bad endings and make this be the one that lasts forever. it’s adrenaline rushes and planning your whole life out with someone.
I D I D S O M E T H I N G B A D: isfor all the witches they were unsuccessful at burning. it’s lit fireworks crackling in your rib-cage and fiddling with the laces of your warn out combat boots and already ripped fishnets and applying perfectly winged eyeliner without trying and bright red lipstick to match the blood of your enemies.
D O N T B L A M E M E: is for the passionate, reckless, fearless lovers. the ones who fall in love without hesitation and without permission. they dive in head first without looking back. they don’t care if it makes them seem crazy because they would rather be crazily, passionately in love than live an indifferent and emotionless life. it’s for when you find that one person you would risk everything for.
D E L I C A T E: is for the doubt that takes residence in your head and in your heart when you finally get the courage to dust yourself off and fall for someone new after you got your heart broken. it’s terrifying and temporary and fragile and beautiful because it’s fleeting. it can never last forever, or so you have been led to believe. it’s for the cautious dreamers. the damaged lovers who have been left for dead too many times to count.
L O O K W H A T Y O U M A D E M E D O: is for the defeating moment when you finally take the blame just to ease the heat. it’s for when every one thinks that they finally buried you but like a phoenix, you rise from the ashes reborn. it’s taking a lighter and burning every thing to the ground. it’s finding out just how good revenge can feel.
S O I T G O E S: is nights at bars and restaurants and films and parties and weekends that you know can’t possibly last forever. it’s silk dresses and high heels and smudged lipstick and scratches on your lovers back. it’s cashmere jumpers and messy hair and dark circles beneath your eyes because lately life has been so freeing, sleeping seems like a waste of time.
G O R G E O U S: is for the endless summer nights and repeatedly making eye contact with the stranger across the bar. it’s starry eyes, rosy cheeks, and quiet seduction. it’s drinks in blues and pinks and tiny cocktail umbrellas and having so many you quit counting. it’s finding someone so physically flawless you can’t help but hate them, simply because you can’t have them.
G E T A W A Y C A R: is for all of the lovers on the run from all of their past mistakes and rebounds. it’s for when they find someone with similar baggage and decide to find distraction in each other. it’s for seeking a fresh new start. it’s secretly kissing in diner booths, holding hands under the table, and kissing each other with recklessness on your lips. it’s knowing that this is temporary, but that’s what you love about it.
K I N G O F M Y H E A R T: for the boys and girls who make a key to their heart and give it to each other. it’s the truth and vulnerability one must have to be able to do that. it’s for the five am rooftop conversations. it’s getting dressed up just to dance with each other around the living room.
D A N C I N G W I T H O U R H A N D S T I E D: it’s nights spent dancing with each other around the house. it’s lips that taste like safety, and that’s something you haven’t had in so long you’ve forgotten what it taste like. It’s the drop of your stomach just before you jump. This is for the desperate but hopeful lovers.
D R E S S: is his drink in your hair, on your lips, in your hands. it’s crumpled bed sheets. it’s when the sun rises in the morning and your eyes meet the same sleeping lover beside you. it’s lace bra-lets and knee-high boots.
W H Y W E C A N T H A V E N I C E T H I N G S: is for when the hurt and betrayed turn into the unforgiving and unafraid. it’s when your mouth is filled with unforgiving teeth. it’s reaching a point of anger, you can’t help but burst into laughter. you can’t help but joke about the whole thing. it’s shards of broken glass and anger to the point of apathy.
C A L L I T W H A T Y O U W A N T: is for the lovers who find comfort and validation in one another. they don’t have anything to prove. it’s hand written lovers and blankets under covers. grinning from ear to ear alone in your room. the promise of something bigger than this. a taste of forever. it’s cups of tea in the morning and wine at night. it’s the kind of love that could inspire classic romance novels.
N E W Y E A R S D A Y: is for when every one else has gone home and you are the only two remaining. when the party is over, but the best part of the night has yet to come. it’s time standing still when it’s just you two. it’s air kissed curls and deep two in the morning conversations on kitchen counters. it’s wanting to stay forevermore.