CallMeFelix

Strumming strings on your guitar, you wrote slowly against the paper. In order to make up for the lack of perfection within yourself, you had practiced your handwriting day in and day out. You hoped that if you could make this written letter full of beautiful letters, he would come back to you. He had said he couldn't be with you because you were so obsessed with making sure everything was just right. "But only right for you," he had said. "You never think about anyone else." And you wanted to tell him about all the hours you spent in front of the mirror before your first date, wanting to make sure every strand of hair was swooping towards

You're not sure who to blame anymore. You look at him, drinking in every feature and flaw on his face. You match it with the rest of his body that sits before you. He's not what you expected - which was, in short, nothing at all. To you, he had been a sentient voice. You hadn't cared what he looked like. You wondered, but you never cared. It never mattered. But you knew this was important. You knew this revealing was special, and that you were one of the few that got to see his face. To examine it. To know. He trusted you. This was the ultimate form of his trust. And he wanted you, too. He wanted you to know that he trusted you enough not

You don’t remember why you’re here, in this wasteland of nothing except what seems like endless rock. Everything is hard and grey beneath you, but after all the long hours, you’ve learned to accept it in order to sleep. Though, you never sleep for long, woken by the ground trembling beneath you. You would hear distant cracks, like a stick snapping in two. Sometimes you worry it might be something lurking around this place, but you’ve never seen any sign of life besides yourself. Without light, at the time that you have named “night”, the universe is laid out before you in the sky. You’re not sure

A shot to the veins. Taste the rush. I was lost on an escape to love. Untraceable. When you were a little girl, you swore to your mother that you would never fall in love. At that time, you didn’t understand the glamour behind frilly white dresses and cutting cake, or watching children play with your other half. As you grew older, you realized you weren’t exactly sure what “other half” was supposed to mean. Not until you met him. It’s not the same. Not enough. After 25 years of never dating, never crushing, never crying over a single person that decided to reject you, it was easy to say you were quite tired of

 It was war. But it was peace. There were limited people in the Royal Guard, and most of the citizens would not be strong enough to fight – if the barrier was to fall. But it wasn’t going to. Frisk’s soul was lost in the depths of Hotland: they had fallen from a ledge, tumbling into lava, every aspect of their being melting away. You wondered what it felt like to burn, and felt a tingling in your flesh which made your thoughts cease. You gripped the black sweater in your hands tightly, sitting in the flowers. Somehow, you knew the challenge yet to come, but for now, you did not want to face it. The sun shone through the gap

  You missed her smile.  The charming upward turn of her lips that would never fail to flood you with the assurance that you were safe and sound; that everything was okay. And now, even when she could still manage a small, weak grin, it never felt the same. Her cheeks faltered at the sign of happiness and affection, showing clearly it was forced. If that wasn't difficult enough to handle, she looked ghostly against the white sheets of a hospital gurney, bruised eyes from lack of sleep standing out like a sore thumb against all the pale. Although your hands were rather small, she still felt fragile beneath your touch, and you hated to see he

Your bones, lie sleeping here. Alone, sweet poison. And with your name on the tip of my tongue, your arms around me. Your hands rested in your lap as you sat Indian style, music flowing through a wire tucked in your left ear, the other earbud hanging loosely near your chest. To your right on the worn, concrete stage was a blonde-haired male sporting a green beanie that looked rather lively against all his dark clothing, staring blankly at the fairly large basketball court in front of the platform's drop-off, a smoking joint between his index and middle finger. The sky was a dusty grey, sun hiding

 Every morning was the same routine. You would get out of bed and complete the necessities before presenting yourself in public, then you would take your laptop, phone, and charger to a café down the street. You ordered the same iced coffee, sat at the same booth, watched the same movie, and sketched the same designs. Every. Single. Day. You never minded the repetition – in fact, change seemed to be your worst enemy. You had always hated alterations, for it appeared bad things always happened once they finished settling in. But, when a man wove his way into your custom, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel that familiar discom

 It was like stepping in mud. You want to wash it off with a hose, but you can never really do that, can you? Because, chances are, you’re going somewhere when it happens – to work, or the store, wherever. Doesn’t matter. You just know that even if you had a hose right at your feet, you don’t have the time to wash it all away. You’ve got better things to do. So what do you do? Wipe it on the grass? – Or the sidewalk, or a building, any flat surface or edge. But, no matter how hard you drag your feet, you can never get all of it off. So you settle. You wipe them until you think, “Good enough,” an

 Her arm was slung loosely through her butler’s, (e/c) eyes glimmering in the many lights of the Stark Tower as they both tread closer to unknown territory. (Y/N)’s mind swum with the worries her companion felt and wished she could pull away, brush off his darkening energy without seeming rude or odd. But before she could take that into a full consideration, she focused on another thought. Only seconds after, a man stumbled out of the front glass doors she had originally believed to be locked, the translucent white cloud that represented what he was feeling trailing right behind him. A smirk welled on her face the moment she recog