“ that’s awfully bold for someone who will probably never see me again. ” moved onto lipstick, blotting the centre, “ rub them together. ”
“ oh? ” thumb wipes smudged stain, lip––liner takes to the edge of cupid's bow, drawing the curve; breath fans her face, two fingers tucking against chin to hold her still, “ don't let me keep you. ”
rummaging through purse. migraine tablets, keys, more tablets, before hands find lipliner and lip gloss. holds them up, uncaps the liner with teeth, mumbling, “ were you busy? ”
leaning in closer, and closer, and closer–––– doe––eyed, unaware, before she stops just before. squints “ your lipstick is smudged, hana. ”
immediately does she nudge her in, lock the door behind her––– instinctive, knowing that if she doesn't someone else would barge past and do so. “ phew. i went into at least two wrong rooms, earlier. thank you, hana. i owe you. ”
stare lingers on newfound hero, curiosity glimmering in her hue. what a pretty gi–––– ahem! “ thanks. i'm willow, by the way. ”
“ i don't know. a guy dressed as spider––man. ” rich, she thinks, snorting as the words leave her mouth; doesn't shy away from the touch, albeit she does lean in slightly closer, whispering, “ to your left. see? ”
only then does she release her grip, a slight flush atop the apples of cheeks. head turns to the left, down the hall, where she had just come from. “ um ... yeah, if you don't mind. there was a guy that way that kept bothering me. ”
leaning in, she blinks away the slight blurriness of her vision. “ yeah! i'm okay, just–––– sorry, do you know where the bathroom is?! ”
“ gwuh! ” —— hands tighten atop strangers’ waist in return, “ i’m so sorry! ”
hands release pom—poms in favor of steadying @primourdial 's step; she had almost crashed into her with a cup full of who—knows—what—it—is neon drink.
𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 ︎ ︎ ︎ ⌖ ︎ ︎ ︎ ᵀᴵᴹᴱ, retweeted
Replying to @primourdial
golden boy still shines so brightly in her memory, in her hands now. doesn't separate far enough, speaks with her lips still pressed to forehead. “ i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i was late. i promised you i'd be there. and i'll make it up
trembling palm smooths over blonde hair, cooing softly. bent at the knee, with no effort to unfurl him from where he crouches, only stopping the methodic stroking to lean forward and press her lips to the crown of hair.
Replying to @NIGHTLYECHO
body crumbles to the floor, seated, with knees quickly tucked into his chest to allow sweat—coated forehead a resting place. "i ran out . . ." he mumbles, coarsely. "i ran out, willow . . ."



















