β β β β β β β β #FREEDREβ β β β γ € β βββ ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β γ € β βββ ββ β β β β β β β β β γ € β β β ββ γ € β βββ ββ ββ β
β* βΈββ ππππππππ β ππππππ β π°ππΌπ
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Joined June 2022
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β β ΚΝα΄ΝΚΝΙͺΝα΄Νsα
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And at the eleventh hour, Oono Misae is set to make his debut for #π¦π’π¨ππ¦π₯ππ€π¨πππ .
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β πͺΌ π β β¨ π½π’ππ’π‘π π’ πππππ β©
β β β β β ππππππ'π ππππππ π
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β AFTER ALL γYOU ALL HAVE
π π ζ¬γ ON YOUR SIDE. β
#ππππππππππππ
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The pitter-patter of her clicking heels against the pavement unearthed the untended scars of the psyche, and in that interval, the image of her returns to mind. β I know where she is. β so he says, his tone so utterly sunken into his chest that it borders on a groan.
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Whereupon, at the instant his dearest confidant discards her still-lit cigarette, Hanabira widened those veiled eyes of his to her fit of pique. A smirk likened to that of a cheshire cat crept atop his expression, each wrinkle an obvious ruse... the facade of warmth.
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Upon laying eyes on her face, and the otherwise unfamiliar scorn therein, he finds it apt to retrieve the cigarette tucked away behind his ear. Hanabira feigns indifference per usualββthough it isnβt until he presses its end onto Junβs, that he assume the role in earnest.
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Following a long, drawn out inhale, heβd finally breathe out paired streams of smoke that billowed forth from flared nostrils, all while eyes red as rubies trail each and every contour of the womanβs frame, as though he wished to burn her silhouette into his memory.
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β β β ββ β β€β β ββ β βοΈ β§½ πTERπAπβ
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β β β β β πIFπβ &&.β FπREVπR β πͺ½γβ οΉ β
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β ποΈ π β β¨ ππ’ππππ π·ππ§π β©
β β β β ππππ ππππ ππ ππππππ π
#πππ’πππ³ππ©ππ‘ πΈ βΊ @euploeas
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ALT (π¨)β β§Έ π¬π’π³πΊπ―.
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Every frantic tug to reclaim her surrogate of choice only deepened his amusement. Bit by bit, however, that feigned apathy gave way. He might have laughed, had the burdens of his heart not snuffed what little joy lingers.
β Iβve been having dreams again, believe that? β
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Those onlooking eyes of his vainly search her own set for warmth β Somehow, I find that hard to believe. β he says, paying no mind to her rejection. Should he be forthcoming with the truth, though he hardly ever is, he finds her facade appealing.
β May I borrow an ear? β
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A smile, as crooked as one might be, tugs at the furthest edges of his lips as though he had his own private jokeββthe likes of which had cast Jun as the unwilling jester. The hedonist is brought to subdued laughter, and in the same rasped breath, he extends a hand outward.
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The ambient streetlightsβ allure was sickeningly magnetic, and like a moth to a flame, the fatalist is caught adrift amidst its orbit. Tennouji habitually entertains defying itββthough heβd always succumb; he is architect and the victim of his own undoing.
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π§ππ«π§ π§π’: @lovewegave
οΉπ²οΉ Iβve been bad again.οΉβ‘οΉ
Come home soon. xoxo
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