Our way led us to a diner, close to his apartment according to him. I didn’t really comment this information, I wasn’t interested in any further contact. My reaction before was an attitude I learned in time. It was self defense, being able to make clear what I want and what I don’t. I tended to be friendly and cautious in the past, which led to people being rude and abusive towards my kindness. What can I say, being a bitch was way more relaxing than tensing my buttcheeks and be forcefully nice.

To my surprise, the evening was quite fun. I enjoyed his company, even his flat jokes. Maybe the fact that they weren’t funny, made them funny the most. We laughed and one coffee turned into pancakes and milkshakes. The later the hour, the more he opened up. I was still reserved. He began to paint the way he saw me, I was quite astound about the way he saw me.

He explained: “I saw you the moment you entered the bar, your walk, your posture everything radiated some kind of confidence that caught my attention instantly. You were inviting, like this chocolate you see in the showcase of a chocolatier, but you don’t dare to buy..”

His nervousness was written on his face as he spoke, I got the feeling that every word came out with a certain heaviness, hiding a fear… That I wasn’t able to name. Was I so scary? “..

"I don’t know, please don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to come out weird. You are definitely an exceptional woman. I don’t want to chase you off. I just feel the need to explain that I am still here after a quite for me embarrassing evening with all the rejections from your side. I am not a stalker. And not a creep either. I am just charmed by the power of a woman, that beams from every corner, without making her any less feminine, it’s the opposite. It’s bewitching.”

The way others see us, can often be an eye opener. While I just saw myself as a woman that enjoyed herself, he made me way bigger than I’d ever imagine. I couldn’t deny that it was very flattering..

My brow rose as I settled my hazel eyes on his, allowing a light smile tug delicately on the corner of my lips “Well if its reassuring in any way, you aren’t a creeper, but quite good with words.”

Power? Not that I had ever thought of it much but his explanation awakened thoughts that began to tickle in the back of my mind. How would it be to have the power over someone or be the strong one for once…?

Finally making our way out of the diner, we stopped in front of his home. Waiting for a taxi to pass, so I could catch it and get closer to the rest I was seeking. Again he had this nervous expression stretching over his features and causing his forehead to throw lines, while his hands anxiously lift to the sides of his head. I fought hard not to let the smirk that pulsated underneath my lips to expose my amusement about his reaction. Now that I knew that the cause was him being attracted to me. I tried to help.. “Spill, what’s bugging you?” ... Well I was also curious.

And with that said, the words literally burst out of him “Lead me.”

I couldn’t believe myself, that I knew exactly what he meant.

That night I wasn’t aware of the energy I radiated. I just felt after a damn long time myself again. The reason of my restraint towards men, was simply that I reached a phase of my life where I just preferred to enjoy myself without an other experience that could’ve ended up as disappointment. But that night.. Exactly that seemed to be the misinterpreted aphrodisiac I seemed to emit. Women truly never realise how sexy self confidence can be..

I thought my leather skin tight pants and lace blouse would testify “No, I am not interested in your company. I am just here for a good drink.” as I sat at the bar and let my silky dark curls cover one shoulder, waiting for my drink. Unfortunately not everyone wanted to get the message, I hoped I would be sending. Like this one guy…

He was self confident, had charisma and a good taste about drinks. I didn’t mind him taking a seat on the stool next to me starting a random conversation about drinks which he believed gave away more about the person who ordered them than they believed. I silently listened, offered him a smile and focused back on the dark liquid in front of me.

As I said, I was there for me. No one else.

The guy tried again.. And again,  I didn’t give him a chance to start a conversation. Just as I finished my third glass and reached for my pocket, he placed the money in front of me, saying something about  him inviting me thanking for the conversation I didn’t grant him. I took his money and stuffed it into the pocket of his shirt, offering him a gentle smile “Look Sweetheart, I pay for myself.” Turning around, I placed my money on the counter and shift down from the stool. My curvaceous bottom brought perfectly in scene through my high heels as I swayed my hips towards the exit. I didn’t care about anyone in the bar, didn’t notice anyone but my drink, the bartender and the guy that obtrusively fought for my attention.

On my way outside, I didn’t realise that my admirer decided to follow me until I felt a grip on my shoulder. Turning around I began to get mad, I clawed my freshly manicured nails into the fabric of his shirt and pushed him against the door, hazel hues darkening as they meet his. My sugar coated voice, escaping my lips in form of a hiss “I don’t appreciate being stalked. So whatever you had in mind, leave it. And leave me alone. Clear?” He nodded his head, seemingly impressed with one brow cocked he held my scarf up, murmuring “You forgot this.” My fingers instantly let off his shirt and I burst out into laughter, which echoed louder when he joined me. Shaking my head, I apologised. He answered “Well, I had in mind to give you, your scarf but..” He pulled the scarf around his neck and held it briefly against his nose, which caught my attention “… I will obey Ms, I shall keep it then.” I couldn’t help the aftershock of my laughter exposing itself in form of a smirk that curled upon my plump lips “Fair enough, you are allowed to keep it. It suits you.” Taking advantage of the situation it seemed, the guy asked “Now that I heard you voice, I want to hear more. Would you accompany me for a coffee and a small talk?” It wasn’t just the feeling of guilt that I had for pushing him against the door, but he somehow managed to wake my interest enough to wish for his company a little longer… “Why not?”

With that, I farewelled the date with myself and joined a friendly evening with a male… Isn’t it ironic?

Got about 5 chapters of Whitewash High edited, and 2 more chapters of Minotox, Lord of Breeding on the editing table. Slowly working on Blood Passion right now. I ‘had’ one chapter done but too much still needed to be added, so it turned into a double-chapter. This, plus a commission that the commissioner will be allowing me to post publicly, and all my fans will be getting a big summer of smut.

⁣His breath tickled her ear as he leaned down and whispered

“Is it hard looking at me like this?” ⠀

Wide eyed she took a deep breath through her nose, knowing he did it on purpose. He wanted to see her reaction. Usually he would be the first to flee when he wanted to hide something; especially stuff like this. Normally he wouldn’t want her to see him like this, fearing Sara would become scared of him.⠀

She turned around focusing on his golden eyes. Eyes she had known since she was little that always shinned of warmth, eyes that now looked at her with worry. ⠀

His twitching wings were folded tightly behind him. ⠀

Smiling she wiped the blood away from his chin with her sleeve, hoping Lucifer didn’t see her other trembling hand. He would never forget her reaction if he did. She just had to remember who he was, he was Lucifer, herLucifer.⠀

“I’m not scared of you Lucifer, okay maybe a little when you look like this, but not of you.” she gave him a soft smile. She wasn’t stupid, she knew Lucifer did some bad things, it was after all part of the job description as the ruler of Hell. “I could never be scared of you.” Sara knew she can’t show him how shocked she is, so she kept on smiling, cause deep down she knew she wasn’t lying.⠀

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— A snippet from my very first book called It’s still under heavy editing lol⠀

Hi guys, okay new to Tumblr and trying to locate the amazing community of authors and artists I heard so much about in here!

A little about myself.

I’m from Denmark and am writing my first book called “the truth about hell” I am self taught in English so has a long way to go with editing and rewriting but that’s part of writing am I right?

I am also avid reader and love art. I have a whole library at home as my friends call it, due to collecting books since I was a preteen. I also is a huge fan of anime, though in the later years have falled a little off the vagon but wanna try and get back into it! I would love to find others that has some of the same interests as me and it seems like they’re is some amazing ppl in here that have just that! If anyone is interested in fangirling over series like supernatural, Sherlock Holmes and marvel or the likes or even books I am down! Or heck even talk about the book they’re written or have already written!

Don’t lie, we all have one of these

I am on instagram as JoselinToftlund if anyone wanna follow

Joselin Toftlund (@joselintoftlund) • Instagram photos and videos

person a can’t smile. well, they can but it’s more like a straight line whenever they smile. that’s why no one gets to see a ‘proper’ smile from person a because it isn’t really present. so, smiling at strangers who did something nice or catched their eye is an experience person a doesn’t want to relive. however, person ahelpedperson b carry their groceries and person b flashed them a smile: thanking them for helping them. this is when person a tries to smile awkwardly for 20 seconds while person b thinks their smile is charming.

perpetual-stories:

Story Structures for your Next WIP

hello, hello. this post will be mostly for my notes. this is something I need in to be reminded of for my business, but it can also be very useful and beneficial for you guys as well.

everything in life has structure and storytelling is no different, so let’s dive right in :)

First off let’s just review what a story structure is :

• a story is the backbone of the story, the skeleton if you will. It hold the entire story together.
• the structure in which you choose your story will effectively determine how you create drama and depending on the structure you choose it should help you align your story and sequence it with the conflict, climax, and resolution.

1. Freytag’s Pyramid

• this first story structure i will be talking about was named after 19th century German novelist and playwright.
• it is a five point structure that is based off classical Greek tragedies such as Sophocles, Aeschylus and Euripedes.
• Freytag’s Pyramid structure consists of:

1. Introduction:the status quo has been established and an inciting incident occurs.
2. Rise or rising action: the protagonist will search and try to achieve their goal, heightening the stakes,
3. Climax: the protagonist can no longer go back, the point of no return if you will.
4. Return or fall: after the climax of the story, tension builds and the story inevitably heads towards…
5. Catastrophe: the main character has reached their lowest point and their greatest fears have come into fruition.

• this structure is used less and less nowadays in modern storytelling mainly due to readers lack of appetite for tragic narratives.

2. The Hero’s Journey

• the hero’s journey is a very well known and popular form of storytelling.
• it is very popular in modern stories such as Star Wars, and movies in the MCU.
• although the hero’s journey was inspired by Joseph Campbell’s concept, a Disney executive Christopher Vogler has created a simplified version:

1. The Ordinary World: The hero’s everyday routine and life is established.
2. The Call of Adventure: the inciting incident.
3. Refusal of the Call: the hero / protagonist is hesitant or reluctant to take on the challenges.
4. Meeting the Mentor: the hero meets someone who will help them and prepare them for the dangers ahead.
5. Crossing the First Threshold: first steps out of the comfort zone are taken.
6. Tests, Allie, Enemies: new challenges occur, and maybe new friends or enemies.
7. Approach to the Inmost Cave: hero approaches goal.
8. The Ordeal: the hero faces their biggest challenge.
9. Reward (Seizing the Sword): the hero manages to get ahold of what they were after.
10. The Road Back: they realize that their goal was not the final hurdle, but may have actually caused a bigger problem than before.
11. Resurrection: a final challenge, testing them on everything they’ve learned.
12. Return with the Elixir: after succeeding they return to their old life.

• the hero’s journey can be applied to any genre of fiction.

3. Three Act Structure:

• this structure splits the story into the ‘beginning, middle and end’ but with in-depth components for each act.

Act 1: Setup:

1. exposition:the status quo or the ordinary life is established.
2. inciting incident: an event sets the whole story into motion.
3. plot point one: the main character decided to take on the challenge head on and she crosses the threshold and the story is now progressing forward.

Act 2: Confrontation:

1. rising action: the stakes are clearer and the hero has started to become familiar with the new world and begins to encounter enemies, allies and tests.
2. midpoint:an event that derails the protagonists mission.
3. plot point two: the hero is tested and fails, and begins to doubt themselves.

Act 3: Resolution:

1. pre-climax:the hero must chose between acting or failing.
2. climax:they fights against the antagonist or danger one last time, but will they succeed?
3. Denouement: loose ends are tied up and the reader discovers the consequences of the climax, and return to ordinary life.

4. Dan Harmon’s Story Circle

• it surprised me to know the creator of Rick and Morty had their own variation of Campbell’s hero’s journey.
• the benefit of Harmon’s approach is that is focuses on the main character’s arc.
• it makes sense that he has such a successful structure, after all the show has multiple seasons, five or six seasons? i don’t know not a fan of the show.

1. the character is in their comfort zone: also known as the status quo or ordinary life.
2. they want something: this is a longing and it can be brought forth by an inciting incident.
3. the character enters and unfamiliar situation: they must take action and do something new to pursue what they want.
4. adapt to it: of course there are challenges, there is struggle and begin to succeed.
5. they get what they want: often a false victory.
6. a heavy price is paid: a realization of what they wanted isn’t what they needed.
7. back to the good old ways: they return to their familiar situation yet with a new truth.
8. having changed: was it for the better or worse?

• i might actually make a operate post going more in depth about dan harmon’s story circle.

5. Fichtean Curve:

• thefichtean curve places the main character in a series of obstacles in order to achieve their goal.
• this structure encourages writers to write a story packed with tension and mini-crises to keep the reader engaged.

1. The Rising Action

• the story must start with an inciting indecent.
• then a series of crisis arise.
• there are often four crises.

2.The Climax:

3. Falling Action

• this type of story telling structure goes very well with flash-back structured story as well as in theatre.

6. Save the Cat Beat Sheet:

• this is another variation of a three act structure created by screenwriter Blake Snyder, and is praised widely by champion storytellers.
• Structure for Save the Cat is as follows: (the numbers in the brackets are for the number of pages required, assuming you’re writing a 110 page screenplay)

1. Opening Image [1]: The first shot of the film. If you’re starting a novel, this would be an opening paragraph or scene that sucks readers into the world of your story.
2. Set-up [1-10]. Establishing the ‘ordinary world’ of your protagonist. What does he want? What is he missing out on?
3. Theme Stated [5]. During the setup, hint at what your story is really about — the truth that your protagonist will discover by the end.
4. Catalyst [12]. The inciting incident!
5. Debate [12-25]. The hero refuses the call to adventure. He tries to avoid the conflict before they are forced into action.
6. Break into Two [25]. The protagonist makes an active choice and the journey begins in earnest.
7. B Story [30]. A subplot kicks in. Often romantic in nature, the protagonist’s subplot should serve to highlight the theme.
8. The Promise of the Premise [30-55]. Often called the ‘fun and games’ stage, this is usually a highly entertaining section where the writer delivers the goods. If you promised an exciting detective story, we’d see the detective in action. If you promised a goofy story of people falling in love, let’s go on some charmingly awkward dates.
9. Midpoint [55].Aplot twist occurs that ups the stakes and makes the hero’s goal harder to achieve — or makes them focus on a new, more important goal.
10. Bad Guys Close In [55-75]. The tension ratchets up. The hero’s obstacles become greater, his plan falls apart, and he is on the back foot.
11. All is Lost [75]. The hero hits rock bottom. He loses everything he’s gained so far, and things are looking bleak. The hero is overpowered by the villain; a mentor dies; our lovebirds have an argument and break up.
12. Dark Night of the Soul [75-85-ish]. Having just lost everything, the hero shambles around the city in a minor-key musical montage before discovering some “new information” that reveals exactly what he needs to do if he wants to take another crack at success. (This new information is often delivered through the B-Story)
13. Break into Three [85]. Armed with this new information, our protagonist decides to try once more!
14. Finale [85-110]. The hero confronts the antagonist or whatever the source of the primary conflict is. The truth that eluded him at the start of the story (established in step three and accentuated by the B Story) is now clear, allowing him to resolve their story.
15. Final Image [110]. A final moment or scene that crystallizes how the character has changed. It’s a reflection, in some way, of the opening image.

(all information regarding the save the cat beat sheet was copy and pasted directly from reedsy!)

7. Seven Point Story Structure:

• this structure encourages writers to start with the at the end, with the resolution, and work their way back to the starting point.
• this structure is about dramatic changes from beginning to end

1. The Hook. Draw readers in by explaining the protagonist’s current situation. Their state of being at the beginning of the novel should be in direct contrast to what it will be at the end of the novel.
2. Plot Point 1. Whether it’s a person, an idea, an inciting incident, or something else — there should be a “Call to Adventure” of sorts that sets the narrative and character development in motion.
3. Pinch Point 1. Things can’t be all sunshine and roses for your protagonist. Something should go wrong here that applies pressure to the main character, forcing them to step up and solve the problem.
4. Midpoint. A “Turning Point” wherein the main character changes from a passive force to an active force in the story. Whatever the narrative’s main conflict is, the protagonist decides to start meeting it head-on.
5. Pinch Point 2. The second pinch point involves another blow to the protagonist — things go even more awry than they did during the first pinch point. This might involve the passing of a mentor, the failure of a plan, the reveal of a traitor, etc.
6. Plot Point 2. After the calamity of Pinch Point 2, the protagonist learns that they’ve actually had the key to solving the conflict the whole time.
7. Resolution. The story’s primary conflict is resolved — and the character goes through the final bit of development necessary to transform them from who they were at the start of the novel.

(all information regarding the seven point story structure was copy and pasted directly from reedsy!)

i decided to fit all of them in one post instead of making it a two part post.

i hope you all enjoy this post and feel free to comment or reblog which structure you use the most, or if you have your own you prefer to use! please share with me!

if you find this useful feel free to reblog on instagram and tag me at perpetualstories

Follow my tumblr and instagram for more writing and grammar tips and more!

Deal | 6

Make Me Choose

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Hunter

-

The drive back home was wary and silent. Elizabeth made no snide remarks and I am thankful for that. I can’t believe how fast I managed to lose control- my brain is frightening and sometimes it is hard to distinguish the difference between reality and what is replaying inside of my mind. I was careless, I was selfish to endanger us both and when push came to shove I was a wuss. I couldn’t hold myself together. Everything I have been running from, everything that haunts my dreams just flashed before my eyes all over again and I just couldn’t keep my grip from slipping.

When we arrived back at Vieve Springs, empty handed, Coach wasn’t pissed. He understood, even though he had no idea what the actual truth was. I lied through my teeth and said that the Nathaniel guy didn’t bother to show up with the paperwork which he believed instantly. Elizabeth didn’t say a word which has left me nervous.

It is now Thursday morning and the events of last night have been repeating themselves over and over inside of my head. At college I manage to arrive a little earlier than usual. I don’t have to shower this time but I do need to speak with Elizabeth- and considering she is always here on time I am guessing she is hiding out somewhere until classes begin. I check the library first, I know that she enjoys reading so that is the first place that comes to mind. When I enter the room, silence reaches my ears and straight away I begin to scan around, looking for the blonde girl that I despise so much. She should be easy to find, judging by her awful fashion sense and her dry humour. Unfortunately for me I can’t seem to spot her in the small number of students that are situated at a couple of the tables, happily reading. Fuck. Where could she be? She doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy sports so there isn’t much point in me searching for her in that department.

I run a hand down my face in both exhaustion and agitation. She knows too much about me and I know absolutely nothing about her. She holds too much power over how people can come to view me. My reputation can be ruined and all she has to do is open her vile mouth. My hands twitch into fists and I strongly consider punching the brick wall to my left when something blue involuntarily catches my eye. I look ahead of me, witnessing Elizabeth round the corner from Theatre Studies and slowly walk down the hallway towards me. She is alone. Her hair is pinned back into a messy braid and some fly away strands of hair frame her face. She is wearing a pale blue and pristine white stripy t-shirt with some dark denim jeans and the same little ankle boots from a few nights ago. Her pink bookbag is slung messily over one of her shoulders and I stare a little too long for it to ever be considered polite. I don’t think I have ever seen Elizabeth wear something that isn’t a sweatshirt… or loose.

Without hesitation I charge for her, taking the soft flesh of her arm firmly into my hand. I drag her alongside me and push her into an empty classroom. She stumbles slightly before quickly regaining her footing and glaring at me narrowly, “What the fuck?” Her voice is bitter and she shoves her hands against my chest but I don’t budge, instead I take hold of her again and push her to the nearest wall. Her back slams against the hard surface and her eyebrows soften, her eyes are now blown widely as she looks up at me.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Her voice is a hushed yell and I gently press my fingertips into the bone of her jawline, holding her soft face steadily in place as I move my mouth down to rest at the shell of her ear.

“If you tell anyone about what happened last night on the highway-” I whisper, my grip around her jaw tightening slightly as I hold her face in place, “-i’ll fucking ruin you.” I finish lowly and full of honesty before I pull my face back and away from her, looking her dead in the eye to make sure my words have been taken on board. Something dark swirls in her blue eyes and her plump lips are pressed together shakily. She nods at me silently and I ignore the shame that shrinks my chest. I should be protecting this girl, not threatening her. But what choice do I have?

“Okay.” She croaks quietly but I can tell that she is not afraid and I finally step away from her small frame, allowing her to leave if she really wants to. She slowly steps towards the door of the classroom, toying with the strap of her book bag with one of her hands and gripping the handle and throwing the door open with her other but before she leaves she twists her head over her shoulder to look at me, “But just so you know-” She pauses briefly, “-threats can work both ways, asshole.” And then she leaves.

Threats can work both ways.

Threats can work both ways?

Her words ring in my ears and I tense my jaw. She is challenging me and yet she has no idea what this game looks like. She hasn’t had so much as a glimpse into the rule book. No one fucks with me and I can assure that Elizabeth Douglas will soon come to know this. After a moment or so I follow her out into the hallway. We are both in the same class first period and I know just what to do to make her life difficult. No one at this shitty school has any idea what she is really like- everyone thinks she is immaculate and untouchable but I know different. Maybe if I push her buttons hard enough she will crack under pressure. She will reveal herself as what she actually is- A raging bitch.

In class my mind conveys from one thought to the next as my eyes land on Elizabeth, how can one person be filled with life and then be empty? Where does it all go? I want to bury myself into her brain. I want to know what makes her tick and what keeps her awake at night. I want to know everything and anything. What was her life like before I got myself involved with her father? Where is her mother and why is she never around?

I suppose she and I have a lot more in common than I thought. We both have one absent parent however she was left with one that is incredible… I haven’t been that lucky. I can only dream about having a family as great as she has, yes it is only her dad and herself but it is better than being alone… better then being invisible.

I know she can feel my gaze on her because she discreetly turns to face me, her features remaining soft and her eyes unwavering. She looks tired- genuinely tired. Did she sleep last night? Was she awake like I was? With Elizabeth it is so hard to tell. She can smile and laugh but even when she is trying to hide her emotions she forgets that eyes can always talk… and right now they are begging me to go easy on her. On my short and angry walk to this classroom I planned on publicly embarrassing her- but how can I possibly do that when she is looking at me like that. With those big blue trusting eyes.

Goddammit.

I turn my face away from her and break our line of eye contact. Why is it so difficult to hate her? She is condescending and a liar… however I find myself thinking about her way too much. There is a side to her that even I am unsure of. She showed me last night that she can care when she wants too and I blew her off like it was nothing. I know how hard it is to show how you feel and to be shot down so harshly must have left an unpleasant mark.

My thoughts drift and I realise Coach and I have a meeting arranged with one of the executive hosts of the Worldwide Boxing League Championships tonight. Glen and Zion are old friends and apparently he owes Glen a favour, so he agreed to squeeze us in on his busy schedule. I am always going to be forever thankful for all the shit that Glen has done for me. To this day he continues to surprise me with the awesome stunts that he is able to pull, like meeting with one of the most important people in the boxing industry. Without him I would probably be in a prison cell or in a crack house right now. Class is soon dismissed and I head off to complete the rest of my school day, keeping my mind occupied so I don’t have to think of Elizabeth or the nerves bubbling in my stomach about the events that can unfold tonight. I can do this, I remind myself, then,

And even if I can’t, I have to.

-

Before I have any time to blink the clock strikes twelve and Friday morning is fast approaching. My head buzzes from the liquor and I find it hard to concentrate on words that are slipping from Glen’s lips.

“He is the best in the business! Trust me, fellas… this boy-” Glen grabs my right shoulder tight and shakes me slightly, rattling my brain in the process, “-he is gonna be somebody. Give him a chance.” He sounds confident, but behind that facade I can see the desperation deep in his eyes. Elizabeth. My drunken mind wanders to her, all because she and her father share the same colour of eyes.. hers are prettier, though. Coach wants this deal more than I do… but I trust Glen. He knows what he is talking about.

“Fine. Only because I like you. Don’t let me down, Douglas.” Zion- the host of the championships- speaks with such hesitance that my eyes shoot open with shock. Holy shit. Did he just… he couldn’t have…

Glen springs to his feet and holds out a firm hand towards Zion, “Thank you, this opportunity will not go unnoticed. You won’t regret this.” They clasp their hands together and shake one another’s arms for what seems like a lifetime.

I slowly rise to my feet to greet Zion in the same way before Glen and I are hastily led out of the champagne room and down a grand spiral staircase towards the exit of the massive luxurious building.

“You’re fighting, H! You’re fucking fighting at the big leauges!” Glen smacks a hand down onto my back as he chuckles wildly but I am a little too drunk to be responsive. We have been drinking since we left his house earlier… It seems to have worked in our favour but I am going to be so hungover for school- or even worse, I will show up still drunk.

In my haze I hear Coach ramble on about how I cannot afford to be distracted and that we should start training tomorrow night but I find my eyes focusing on the sky above us. The navy blue clouds swirl and turn with one another in the most artistic way and I wish that we could see the stars from here- unfortunately New York generates a shit tonne of light pollution so those odds are extremely low.

I wrap my arm around Glen’s shoulder and I turn my face to meet his, “You are one stud, you know that? You got me into the fucking championships!” We both sway back and forth for a second and I almost fall onto my ass, luckily Coach provides me with some leverage.

His nose twitches as he smells the strong scent of alcohol on my breath but I just smile, “You can crash at our place tonight. I’m not letting you walk home like this.”

Our place. For a moment I had forgotten that he totally ditched his own daughter for this deal earlier. She is such a pain in my ass- always so bitchy and serious… lighten the fuck up, am I right?

She is livin’ the dream. A dad, a house- a bed! She has nothing to be complaining about…

“Hunter?” I blink my eyes open, only now realising that they have been closed for god knows how long.

“Yup?” I look around, beginning to recognise the street- we are close to home.

“Just checking, bud, thought you were passing out on me.” I hear Glen laugh and I join in. I’m not usually much of a drinker- I haven’t had a drink in a year but tonight is a special occasion. I just got accepted to fight. That is a pretty big fucking deal to me.

We fall through the front door together and I snort a laugh as I crash into a cabinet in the hallway, causing a loud disturbance to occur. Rushed footsteps come from upstairs and I hear the stairs creak with weight as someone sprints down them.

“Uh oh- here she comes.” I gasp, quite amused with myself. Glen has disappeared into the darkness and I feel my way around the walls as I struggle to manoeuvre my way into the living room. A bright light is turned on and my eyes sting at the sudden exposure. Both Coach and I turn to the doorway and squint at Elizabeth who is responsible for the abrupt outburst of light. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust but when they do I can tell that she isn’t happy. She looks fucking pissed.

She is wearing a thin white tank top with some pink fluffy pyjama pants and I can’t help but notice the stiff peaks poking out from her breasts. I suck in a tight breath and force my gaze to the ground where I observe that her feet are bare… I almost feel bad for waking her.

“Where the hell have you guys been?” She scolds and I take in how soft and tired her eyes are. I hold back an irrational laugh, she looks so funny when she is angry- not one bit intimidating.

“You think this is funny?” She strides towards me and I raise both of my eyebrows, challenging her to continue, “I thought we were getting robbed!” She pokes at my chest and I wave a hand nonchalantly at her before wobbling over to the sofa to sit down. Her eyes watch me before she turns her attention elsewhere.

“And you.” Glen watches as the scene begins to unfold and I can’t help but compare it to a shitty movie I have watched once, “You are drunk. You blew me off for the third time this week and I have school tomorrow!” She yells and I bring my hands up to cover my ears. She is killing my buzz and giving me a fucking headache. I want to say something to her. I want to tell her to stop being such a party pooper and to maybe join in on the fun instead of being a twisted little bitch- but I decide against doing so. For Glen’s sake.

“Look-” Glen slurs and I can tell that Elizabeth is seconds away from ripping his head off, “-go back upstairs. Hunter is going to sleep on the couch and I am going to bed. No biggie. No robbers.” He tries to throw in a joke but Elizabeth isn’t for taking any of his shit. Just as I believe she is going to go ape-shit again she sighs a little too heavily.

“Fine. But if I hear anything else you are out and so are you.” She looks between Glen and I and I shrug my shoulders before casually folding my arms behind my head. Glen sneaks away to his bedroom and I open one of my closed eyes to see Elizabeth still standing in the living room.

“What?” I bite out and she rolls her eyes, picking up a folded blanket she purposely throws it over my face.

“I want you gone before I wake up.” Her voice is cold and I almost flinch at her cold tone, “And don’t think for one second that I have forgotten about your little stunt earlier in the classroom. You are lucky I value my dad’s happiness or I would have thrown your ass to the curb by now.”

“Whatever. Don’t act like you don’t want me here.” I peel the blanket from my face and smirk up at her.

“Don’t be a fucking smartass. I don’t like you, in fact, I fucking despise you. Stop trying to push me because I can and I will shove you back.” The words roll off of her tongue so sharply, like it caused her physical pain to hold them for much longer in her mouth and I remain silent, my mind swirling with drunk thoughts.

Little prick.

She drags her gaze from me and I kick my shoes from my feet so I can lay comfortably on the sofa. Thankfully, it doesn’t take blondie long to fuck off back up the stairs to the protection of her bedroom.

The scent of a flowery perfume fills my nostrils as it beams from the fabric of the blanket folded against my chest and as much as I hate to admit it, it smells really fucking good.

Sleep quickly captivates my drunken mind and before I have any recollection of my day I am sound asleep. Blue eyes stare at me from behind my eyelids and I try to blame the alcohol. Nothing on my mind except…

Guilt.

Him | 5

Make Me Choose

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Elizabeth

-

I think the saddest people are the ones who always try to make everyone feel included and loved, because they know how miserable it is to feel utterly worthless and alone. So they try their best every damn day to assure that no one else ever has to feel that way. My dad and I are best friends, I look after him and he looks after me.

For a long time money has been tight and the stress just piled onto me throughout the years, so when my dad least expects it I  like to sneak away to parties to hang with people I have no intentions of talking to again.

When I burst into the gym the other night I had no idea Hunter would be there. The party I was at got crashed by people that weren’t invited and a fight broke out. A gun was shot off and my vision blacked out- I just ran until my legs eventually started to give out. The gym was my safe haven… it was the closest place I could hide. I thought Hunter may have been one of the guys that showed up at the party and followed me into the gym, that’s why I was so terrified when he tackled me to the floor. As much as I hate to admit it, when I realised it was Hunter I immediately felt safe. He has this undying loyalty for my dad and I knew he would have protected me if he needed too.

I’m not a bad person, I am just a very stressed person who struggles to find ways to wind down. I don’t smoke and I have never really liked drinking alcohol… but when I surround myself with people that are a little bit like me, it brings me comfort.

We are all just people made up of broken pieces.

-

The bookcase is ornate, as if carved by someone with a profound love for literature. The engravings are of leaves, of autumn berries and birds with spanned out wings- so sublime as if to invite the fingers to take in the art just as much as the eyes.

The musky smell of old worn pages fill my nostrils and upon the shelves that line the library walls are the rainbow spines of a banquet of books. The ink filled pages hold stories greater than real life, stories that are able to take you from one universe to the next. I often find myself lost in the world of words, picturing myself a happy ending where everything is still and calm.

My ending would be peaceful- alone in a field with the love of my life, we are laughing and talking and messing around.. we would be gazing up at the bright sunny sky and that is where my story would end. I’d be happy…

The clock strikes 7 p.m. and I have never been happier to leave the library. After school hours I work shifts at the local library not too far from the college campus, the pay isn’t extortionate but it does help my dad and I on a rainy day. I usually help reorganise the shelves into genre and dust and polish the bookcases, it is time consuming but it keeps me busy… I like to be busy. It keeps my mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t.

Winter air engulfs me in an unwanted embrace and I am so thankful for the gloves that cover my fingers and the grey beanie that is pulled across my scalp. I yank my coat tighter around my torso, clinging onto any sort of warmth that I can. I head for home, my father and I haven’t been very lucky in life- sure, our house is small and boringly decorated but it is better than being homeless. We are just thankful that my mother signed the house over to us before she passed away…

My dear mother.

I never got the chance to meet her… she died giving birth to me. Pictures of her and my father litter the walls of our house but that is the closest thing I have to remembering her. Crumbs… literal crumbs of what was once an amazing human being. My father has always said that I have her smile, and that I definitely have her personality. He would joke about how much of a perfectionist I am and knowing that my mother was the same brings me some sort of comfort.

I sigh out softly and allow my eyes to scan my surroundings analytically. Paranoia begins to seep into my brain and I choose to walk a little faster. This city is dangerous and I have to be aware of what monsters may be sneaking around in the shadows.. Luckily for me I’m only around 7 minutes away from my house. I walk this route every day, day in and day out, and each time it gets a little bit quicker. The music buzzing through my headphones never really seems to last as long as it used too.

When I was little my dad tried to get me into boxing but I just couldn’t take to the sport. As a little girl I was more interested in sparkly ponies with bright coloured hair and barbie dolls, not sweaty boxing gloves and punching bags. I regret not taking him up on his offer, I know that if I did I would feel a whole lot more secure walking home alone…

Instead of him trying to force me into something I hated he would take me ice skating every Friday after school. He would pick me up from the school courtyard and we would just drive straight to the ice rink. It was the highlight of my week… but when I started highschool it just stopped. He got more occupied with business and I tried to understand. Disappointment became a regular occurrence in my life and I learned the art of independence. I went off on my own and I stopped relying on others for company… I taught myself how to not need anyone.

I push forth through the chilling wind and eventually I am met with my front door. I hear my father chuckle loudly from inside and brush it off, blaming it on the fact that he may be watching something funny on the television. Before I enter inside I kick my shoes off from my feet and step into the warmth of my house- only for my ears to be met by the laughter of one other person. He is here with someone.

“Hey, sweetie! We’re in the kitchen!” My dad booms loudly as he catches his breath from laughing so hard and I remain silent as I stalk my way through the living room and into the kitchen.

We?

“You remember, H…” My eyes land on the lean brunette who is sitting in my spot at the dining table and I nod, smiling briefly.

“How could I forget?” I peek around my fathers frame and notice that the stove is cold.. “I thought we were going to eat when I got home?” My eyebrows soften as disappointment seeps into my chest. He hasn’t done this before… I’ve gotten used to my father disappointing me with certain things but this is new and it hurts.

“Shit.” He brings his fingertips up to press the crease between his eyebrows, his eyes are closed tightly with frustration, “I forgot. I’m sorry, El… ” His eyes land on me and I allow my shoulders to slump as I physically relax at the sound of my nickname. I know how busy he can get sometimes… especially when he and Hunter get together.

“It’s fine, Dad… Why don’t you throw something on now while I go and take a shower?” I drop my book bag down onto the kitchen table and I can feel Hunter’s eyes following each move I make. He is such a weirdo. My stomach clenches with hunger and I clear my throat to mask the grumble that comes from it. I ate breakfast this morning but other than that I haven’t eaten anything else… I’m starving.

“I could give you some cash… I think Mr. Peterson’s store is still open. You can grab something from there.” I watch closely as he plunges his hand into his coat pocket and I find myself questioning why he still has his jacket on. Is he planning on leaving? Why is Hunter even here?

“And what about you? Won’t you be eating anything?” He hands me a ten dollar bill and I take it from him hesitantly, frowning slightly as I await his answer.

“Not tonight, Honey. Hunter and I have some errands to run.” My jaw flexes at the mention of Hunter’s name and I let my eyes flicker to the tattooed asshole seated in the corner. He is already staring at me and he spares me a smug smile- a look that say ‘fuck you and eat by yourself’.

“Brilliant.” I snap, frowning deeply and turning on my heels to head out of the kitchen. My father’s feeble attempts to call my name go unnoticed and I am persistent to continue on with my rant.

I bound up the staircase, stomping my feet purposely hard on each step that I walk up until I reach the top. I know I am overreacting but I just can’t control the anger bubbling up inside of me. It’s not just anger, it is hatred and hurt. I slam my bedroom door closed and pace around the floor. I can hear the muffled sound of Hunter and my dad talking down the stairs which only aggravates me more. The ignorance of that man makes me want to scream- and I am not talking about my father. Hunter knows exactly what he is doing, he is pushing me and pushing me because he knows that he has something to hold over my head. Something he can easily tell my dad. I can’t react to him in the way I want to, not when my dad is present anyways, and he is aware of this. Why can’t he just piss off and interfere with someone else’s family?

I grab a pillow from my bed and whack it against the wall. Urgh! I hate him. He has gotten his stupid nails wedged so deeply between my father and I that there is literally nothing I can do about it. About him. My dad is treating him like he is a part of this family- like he is the son he never got to have. Fucking Morales.

Epinephrine floods my bloodstream and I try to control my sharp and fast breaths. Life was fucking great before that idiot showed up. I never got caught doing anything- I could do as I please without consequences but now that has all changed. Hunter has crashed into me like a meteor strike and my life is in diabolic ruins. He needs to go… or something has to change. I need to know more about him, where he came from and how long he intends on fucking around.

Concentrated and calm I head back down to the kitchen, walking in at what seems to be the perfect moment, “Coach, I can’t drive- well, I can but I don’t want to. There is no way you can take us because you’ve already had one too many beers. Let’s just wait until morning-” An idea rockets into my mind and I step further into the room.

“I’ll take you. I’m sure you are a delight to spend a couple of hours with.” Hunter shoots me a questioning look at my sarcastic tone and I shrug my shoulders. This is the only opportunity I have to get a bit more information about him and I’ll take whatever chance I can get.

“Meet you out front in 5 minutes.” I give both of the boys a tight lipped smile before I head to the front of the house. Luckily my shoes are easy to slip on and I am outside in the matter of seconds. I juggle the car keys in my hand before I click the small black button to unlock the vehicle. It is a silver Toyota Prius, the 2010 model. It isn’t the flashiest car in the world but it is cheap to run and the maintenance isn’t too bad. It gets us to where we need to be so I’m not complaining.

I slip into the driving seat and immediately I turn on the air conditioning, setting the dial to hot as I try and warm the car up a little bit. Hot air blasts through the vents and I relax into the padded seat. With the corner of my eye I see something dark charge towards the car, and I barely have time to realise it is Hunter before he is diving into the passenger seat. A scowl rests heavily on his face and I smile at him.

“What is your problem?” He asks harshly but I simply ignore him and I turn my head away from him to look out onto the dark road in front of us. We haven’t even left my house yet and he is already talking too much. Shoving the key into the ignition keyhole I turn the key to start the engine. It takes two tries but eventually the engine roars to life. I shift the stick into gear and we speed off into the night. Hunter’s breath catches in his throat and I glance at him vaguely.

“Put your seatbelt on, Elizabeth.” I look down at myself, only now realising that I actually don’t have the protective belt strapped across my body. Doing as he asks, and for my own safety, I clip the belt into place. Clearly it puts Hunter at ease as he is now not tensing up like he was before.

“Where are we heading?” I ask with both hands slackly gripping the steering wheel I keep my eyes trained on the road, reading any road signs that flash up at me and sticking to the speed limit.

“Uh…” Hunter hesitates for a brief moment, clearly wracking his brain for the answer, “Think he mentioned something about picking up some paperwork from a few towns over. A guy named Nathaniel is going to meet me with it.”

“Hmm, okay.” I reply back and nod my head in agreement. There is some common ground between us… for now, anyways.

“So… when will you be abandoning ship then? A couple of weeks from now or-?” I watch as Hunter’s face wrinkles with both confusion and distaste. I go on to say, “Just because no one sticks around forever, ya know? You seem like one of those guys that just goes wherever they please.” My blows are hidden by the neutral tone in my voice but that doesn’t stop Hunter from overreacting- as always.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He almost growls and I grip my fingers tighter around the steering wheel, my knuckles turning an icy shade of white. The air is beginning to feel thick between us already and I don’t know if I should blame myself or the air conditioning but I don’t stop.

“Don’t you have a family of your own?” instead of trying to steal mine, is what I want to say but I don’t. For a moment his features darken and I feel a pang of regret hit my chest. Maybe I’m being crazy and harsh… maybe he is just a boxer and my dad is just his coach.

“You know fucking nothing about me, blondie.” He fires back lowly after some time and I gulp down a growl.

“Stop calling me blondie!” I yell, totally enraged at his lack of interest in my questions. He doesn’t seem to care that I am asking him these things, but he is being ignorant with his answers.

“Would you shut up and quit yelling, I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.” I turn my head to him and the look on his face sends me flying over the edge. I grind my teeth uncomfortably tight and glare at the road passing us by.

“Kiss my ass.”

Hunter releases a gravelly laugh and I breathe out heavily, trying to calm my raging inner emotions. I don’t think I can even stand to be in this car with him for much longer, but this was my idea. Maybe I do make bad decisions…

To my right, Hunter starts to dig around blindly in the glove compartment of the car and I glance between him and the road a couple of times, both confused and a little bit angry that he is mindlessly going through our things, “What the hell are you doing? Stop touching stuff that isn’t yours!” With one of my hands I reach for him over the centre consol and struggle to close the compartment whilst also keeping control of the moving vehicle.

“Chill out, I’m just looking for some CD’s.” He carelessly remarks and I scoff.

“You’re going to make me crash!” I say seriously and Hunter freezes. His entire body comes to stiffly sit in place and I retract my hand from his side of the car and focus back on the road. His breathing becomes gripped and deprived and I look at him worriedly. What is up with him?

“Thank yo-“ I go to say.

“Stop the car.” He pants harshly and I can hear the panic entwined in his voice.

“I can’t just stop the car, moron, we are on a highway-” I try to argue back but he frightens me by doing something that nearly sends me spinning off of the road.

“I said stop the fucking car, Elizabeth!!” He reaches across the console and grabs at the steering wheel. I scream and push his hands away forcefully, my heart and mind racing frantically. We swerve from left to right and I feel my body begin to shake.

"OKAY! OKAY!” I wail loudly and pull over to an empty spot on the side of the busy road. Hunter is fast to unclip his seatbelt and plummet out of the car and I instantly follow behind him, basically falling out of the driver’s seat. He nearly got us both killed!

Furious, I open my mouth to scream at him but what I see stops me right in my tracks. Hunter is curled over on the ground, his hands are pressed flat against the floor and his fingers are splayed out across the concrete. I can see the rapid movement of his back muscles as he breathes in and out briskly. He is having a panic attack. It is painful and scary to watch him lose control of himself.He needs someone… and I am the only one here.

I crouch down next to him and place a caring hand on his buff shoulder, letting him know that he is not alone and that I am here for him, whilst also leaving some distance between us both, “Hunter…” My voice is quiet against the roar of the traffic and my chest tightens when his teary eyes meet mine. Impassiveness shrinks his irises as terror gleams through his forest  green eyes and he rises up from his knees and to his feet, “Don’t.” He says coldly, “Just don’t.” There is a warning behind his words and I respect his boundaries.

Maybe I went too far.

I have another WIP idea… someone tell me no… SOMEONE TELL ME TO FINISH THE ONE I’M WRITING PLEASE!!!!

From that moment on I make a promise to both myself and to the frail blonde girl snuggling beneath her mint green comforter-

I will never leave her to face anything alone ever again.

Hunter Morales, Make Me Choose.

Master list

I’m afraid. Tangled in a spiders web that I can’t seem to get out of- and I am a fly, waiting to meet my own demise.

Elizabeth Douglas, Make Me Choose.

Master list

Lies Or The Truth? | 10

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Hunter

-

My eyes flutter open abruptly as we drive over a rocky speedbump and I slowly turn my head towards Elizabeth who is driving cautiously. Her eyebrows are in a tight knot as she focuses on the road ahead and I can see the slight worry swimming in her irises, “You’re looking a lot better today… did you manage to sleep okay?” Elizabeth breathes and I shrug my shoulders. Her and I aren’t friends and I would appreciate it if she would stop acting like I am her mate.

“Slept fine.” I answer back, keeping my tone flat. The truth is that I actually didn’t sleep well. My sleep was broken all fucking night and when I did eventually fall asleep I had to get back up again five minutes later for this shitty roadtrip to IKEA. I guess I am to blame for this unwanted journey, I just wish it could have been Glen that escorted me there instead of his sneaky daughter. Speaking of which…

“The guys that jumped me-” I start, my eyes coming to rest on Elizabeth’s features, “-they had my phone number. I thought I was texting you.” I admit, my voice is harsh and I can’t swallow the judgement in my tone. Did she set it all up? I know I haven’t been the nicest person to Elizabeth, hell, we barely tolerate one another but I would never expect this type of low blow from her…

Her sapphire eyes flash to me for a moment before she trains her eyes back onto the road, “That’s weird. Why would they say that?” She mumbles and as expected her tone is hard to read. She doesn’t sound guilty but I can’t exactly just take her word for it, she is known to lie and I refuse to be taken as a fool.

“You tell me.” I try to keep my expressions vacant as I discreetly accuse her of the whole situation but then I realise how unfair that actually is. She was at the gym, waiting for me and I know that she is better than what she seems. I need to stop thinking so lowly of her, there is a good person in there somewhere… However I have to admit that Elizabeth is a hard character to like.

“If you have something to say, Hunter, just say it.” Her voice is a snarl and I chew on the flesh inside of my cheek, “I don’t like being treated like a guilty party.” She adds and I scoff.

“You could have arranged the whole thing for all I fucking know. You definitely aren’t a saint and let’s be honest, you hate me, giving you every damn reason to do some sneaky shit like this.”

The car becomes mute and the drive goes by pretty quickly as we soon pull into the crowded IKEA parking area. I knew that the place would be busy but not to the point where we are at risk of losing the fucking car in the parking lot. I remain tightlipped as Elizabeth and I head for the IKEA entrance, she doesn’t bother to spare me as much as a fucking glance and I return the same cold attitude. Maybe I should’ve just stayed quiet in the car.

As soon as we walk into the huge shopping store I begin to search around for the appliances we need, or if I can’t find those then I will look for an employee that will surely be able to help us, “I’m going to look around, don’t leave without me.” I state clearly to Elizabeth before I decide to wander off in the opposite direction. She takes down one of the aisles and I do that same, passing by multiple tins of paint and some glittery wallpaper. Where the hell would they keep massive sheets of glass? This store is ridiculously big, how do people not get lost in here?

Music plays faintly through the store speakers and I glance around as loads of people root around quickly beside me. I look to the ceiling, trying to catch a glance at the signs that are dangling from the roof rafters. One reads ‘Paints, Pots and Brushes’ and I generally assume that I am standing in the wrong area. Heading deeper into the store I round multiple corners, slipping down each of the large aisles speedily. The scent of charred wood fills my nose and I welcome the smell, it is oddly nice.

I round one last corner and spot Elizabeth chatting with one of the employees. She giggles cutely at something he says and my eyes harden at the sight. Does she know him?

I stride towards the pair, keeping my facial front stony and unfriendly. The guy has mousy blonde hair, his eyes are a bright shade of blue and his arms are boringly plain. I stop a couple of feet away, coughing as I make my presence known. I curve my neck to catch a glance at the males name tag. Etched across the small gold plate it reads 'Dylan’. Even his name is fucking boring, “Did you find the shit?” I ask after both of them turn to face me. Elizabeth’s smile stifles but Dylan’s remains stretched across his stubbly face. His tiny beard is a weird shade of ginger and I am left to wonder what age this guy actually is. I get facial hair but this guy seems slightly older… maybe a year or two.

“My friend, Dylan, was just going to help me, actually. Before you rudely interrupted us.” She sneers and I see her eyes spark with excitement. Is she trying to make me jealous? Because it isn’t working. I grin at my thoughts, “Friend? C'mon, El, you know I’m more than that.” Dylan’s smile turns into a smirk as he flirts with Elizabeth right in front of me and I flex my jaw.

He called her El.

I don’t know why but it maddens me. I don’t even call her that so why does this asshole think he can.

“Well then… hurry the fuck up? I want to leave.” Both of my eyebrows perk up on my forehead and Dylan’s mouth falls into an 'o’ shape. My endurance of bullshit is beginning to quickly expire and I have no interest in starting another fight. Not today.

“You can’t use language like that here, Sir.” The blonde warns and I take a step towards him however Elizabeth plants a firm hand on my chest to stop my movements, “Sorry, Dylan. Help us, please?” She flutters her eyelashes at him and my lips twitch. All she has to do is bat those long eyelashes of hers and she gets exactly what she wants.

Fucking Brat.

Dylan nods and leads us down the correct aisle. Finally we manage to find what we are looking for and we are back in the car in no time. It did take us around six minutes to even locate the vehicle but we were eventually successful.

“I’m guessing Dylan is more than just a 'buddy’…” I half question and Elizabeth snorts at my side, a smirk is toying on her lips and I wish I could wipe her face clean of her cockiness.

“Does it matter?” She urges and I can tell that she is trying to provoke me. Does it matter to me? No. But it might matter to her father if he doesn’t know about it.

“Not to me.” My tone is challenging and she flashes me a nasty look. A look that says, 'what the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

“I know what you are thinking and for your information, not that it is any of your fucking business, but my dad knows Dylan.” Elizabeth scowls darkly at me and I fake gasp, pretending to be shocked at her reply.

“Wow, so you don’t lie all of the time then? Fucking news to me.” I tear my eyes away from her and look out of the window to my left. She scoffs quietly and I bite my bottom lip to suppress my smirk. I like arguing with her.

I gaze at myself in the small side mirror and for a moment I had completely forgotten about the events of last night, the only real proof that it actually happened is my fucked up face, “What happened last night won’t happen again. I’m not going to apologise because I already have but I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to be frightened of me.” As the words leave my mouth I feel my chest begin to ache. I scared her…

“It’s fine. Besides all the damage it wasn’t that big of a deal.” Her shoulders bounce as she shrugs and I keep my gaze rooted on her. There is a drawn out silence that falls between the both of us and I almost think I am hallucinating when I hear Elizabeth say, “When we kissed last week… Do you regret it?” She is guarded and her tongue is icy as she awaits my reply. There is so much I could say. I could hurt her, I could feed her ego or I could just say nothing.

My shoulders stiffen and I tilt my head to look away from her, stamping my eyes closed. I go over the thousands of thoughts coursing through my mind, “Don’t ask me that.” My lips mould around unspoken curses and I can feel my heart beginning to race.

“Just say it.” Her voice is strangled now and I bring my thumb and index finger up to rub at my tired eyes. What am I supposed to say to her? That I like toying with her feelings and leading her on? That I like proving to her that no matter how cold her exterior may be that I can make her melt in seconds? Or maybe I can tell her how much I regret it and how her breath stank like cheese- even though it didn’t. I enjoyed the kiss… it was warm and slow and unlike anything else in my life. But I still regret it, I just don’t know if I have the will to crush her feelings like that. Have I developed a conscience?

“I don’t know what makes you think it was so special. I’ve kissed hundreds of girls before and none of them have pestered me about it the way you do. It was just a kiss, Elizabeth… we were fooling around and it’s not like I fucked you so just get over it.” Almost instantaneously Elizabeth’s shoulders begin to shudder and I have to look twice to realise that she is crying. Water begins to collect at the bottom lid of her eye and her lips start to tremble slightly. A short intake of breath follows her quivering lips and she is quick to wipe away a stray tear that threatens to slide down her cheek. Fuck. I pretend not to notice how her nose has brightened to a soft pink and how her cheeks glisten with the dampness from her tears. I am such a fucking asshole.

“Well, aren’t you just charming.” Elizabeth’s voice is brittle and I frown at the melancholy in her tone. She will get over this, she will get over me. That kiss shouldn’t have meant anything to her, it was a 'in the heat of the moment’ spur and I can’t allow myself to dwell on this for much longer.

Hurts To Hate Somebody | 9

Make Me Choose

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Hunter

-

A whole week and a handful of late night sessions later, I find myself riddled with regret. The kiss between Elizabeth and I was a mistake, a big mistake. It was merely lust and nothing more. I was feeling alone and she was there- shit happens… it just can’t happen ever again.

Somehow I am cursed with memories of our virtual conversations that consisted of me letting her know I am at the gym and that I am free to train for the evening. Elizabeth’s responses to mine were always ripe with exclamation marks and enthusiasm. After our kiss things got quiet between us for a while though. It always seemed to me that she was trying to develop our ‘relationship’ further, after each lesson she would always text me a quick thank you… it became a recurring habit of hers.

I regret all of it- kissing her, agreeing to train her, complimenting her on her progress and letting my guard down around her. There have been moments when I contemplated blowing her off, lying to her that I am too busy to train her or that I am sick. I wanted excuses to not have to be around her anymore, she is getting beneath my skin and I hate it. I hate her. Even though I heavily considered the thought of ignoring her, she would just come and find me. Her father is my coach after all and Elizabeth is as stubborn as a judge.

This agreement between Elizabeth and I was destined to fail, doomed from the very start- whatever you want to call it. It would be easier if I could consider her a friend but I can’t say that much about her, there is this unspoken friction between her and I. I hate the way she acts and she hates me for imposing on her and her father. I’m not naive, I know how people can be. There are liars, cheaters, believers and I guess I kind of forgot that no one is perfect. None of us are saints, but when I first saw Elizabeth I assumed that she was different- honest and kind, loving and affectionate. Her actions betray her looks, to everybody else she appears to be this preppy school girl that behaves and follows the rules, but when no one is watching she becomes this deviant that sneaks out at night and swears like a sailor. Her personas give me whiplash but it all just intrigues me more. I want to know why she is the way she is and why she feels the need to put up a stupid little facade. I suppose she is just a coward, afraid of the judgement from her peers.

The fact that I know her better than everyone else makes me grin. People on the outside have only scraped the surface of who Elizabeth Douglas actually is and it is amusing. I wonder how Glen would react if he knew about all the shit Elizabeth gets up to.

I check my phone and notice a notification spring onto the cracked screen. It fell out of my pocket the other day and I nearly screamed aloud at the inconvenience but at least it still works and does other shit. I narrow my eyes at the text message, alarm bells fire off inside of my head but I shake the thoughts away.

Unknown: Meet me at the park tonight. I don’t want to walk alone.

Hmm… that’s weird. I have Elizabeth’s number saved into my contacts so why is the number listed as unknown? I try not to overthink it and shrug my shoulders to myself before I grab my coat from the coat wrack. Some other guys are in the gym tonight so I hope that our walk can stall us both a bit before we get back to the building, the last thing we both need is getting spotted together.

Me: Okay, this is Elizabeth right?

I hit send, my paranoia getting the best of me. Maybe she is using a friend’s phone or maybe she has switched to a new number. My thoughts are confirmed as a message pings onto the device.

Unknown: Yes.

I stare at the notification for a dragged moment, slightly suspicious and equally as hesitant. It seems strange… something is off about how she is replying. I blame the peculiar pattern on the fact that she may have just had a bad day and I head out to the park. The streets have fallen dark and I keep my headphones volume low, you never know what might sneak up behind you. The walk is quick and the pathways I take are sinisterly quiet, I just hope that she hasn’t been waiting for me for too long, New York isn’t always safe at night.

I meet the park entrance but as I gaze into the public garden I see that  it is empty. I pull one of my headphones from my ear canal and search further into the park. Has something happened to her? Holy shit, what would I tell Glen? What if she is hurt? Fuck.

The park is foggy with nightfall and only one singular streetlamp shines into the area. An oppressive darkness seems to swallow humanity. The wind whistles through the bare tree branches and the only noise I can identify is the music playing through my speakers and the winter breeze blowing the loose leaves on the park floor. I struggle to see clearly and I whip my head over my shoulder. I am glad I do because I see a dark figure sitting close by on a bench, that must be her.

Thank fucking God.

I edge closer to her, a relieved smile picks at my lips but I keep it hidden.

“Jeez, stalker, do you have to look like such a murderer?” I joke with a breathy laugh but she is silent. Someone is clearly not in the mood, however, the longer I stand and stare at her the clearer my sight becomes, my eyes finally managing to adjust to the darkness.

My blood runs cold at the realisation that this isn’t even Elizabeth at all. This is a dude… a shady one.

What the fuck?

I step away from the figure, waving a hand absently at him as I go to excuse myself, “Sorry, mate.”

I try to prepare for whatever may happen next, he has a massive advantage here. It is dark and he may have a weapon that I can’t even see.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I’m not afraid but I realise that I don’t have many options. I have my fists, that I am good at using, but what if he has a gun? A knife? Either one and I am fucking screwed. Briskly I head towards whatever slither of light that I can see, if this guy is going to be any trouble then I need to see what I am up against. A quiet notification sound rings through my headphones, interrupting the song I am listening to and I glance down at the screen for a moment. My heartbeat intensifies and I feel my palms begin to clam.

Elizabeth: Where the hell are you? I thought we were training tonight? I’m at the gym waiting on you and you aren’t even here. You are a dick if you are blowing me off Morales.

The puzzle pieces begin to click together and I chew on the inside of my cheek. If Elizabeth is at the gym waiting then who the fuck texted me earlier? A loud rush of movement comes from behind me and when I turn around I see the hidden figure from earlier sprinting towards me. Before I have any time to swing a punch I am tackled to the floor, wrestling with this man that I don’t even know. Only seconds later he is joined by two other masked accomplices and I take a heavy boot to my face. The hit takes me off guard and the world becomes shaken. My face is wet with blood and I spit onto the concrete, groaning as I manage to push the man from earlier off of me. I attempt to rise to my feet quickly but it doesn’t take long for the thugs to regain control as one of them grabs me from behind and holds me tightly to their chest as the other two whack feeble punches into my torso.

“Fucking pussies, does it take this many of you to leave a mark?” I snarl, my thoughts are homicidal and I have to keep myself from seeing red. These asshole have no fucking idea who they are messing with.

They don’t take my words lightly as they smack me across the face and my knees threaten to buckle beneath me. Usually these types of punches don’t phase me but when brass knuckles are involved…

I struggle with the man that is holding me captive until I finally manage to break loose. Without any further thought or hesitation I start swinging. I don’t have time to be strategic and I am too fucking angry to care about what I am doing and how my form is. I catch one of the guy’s jaws and he flies to the floor, his head first and then his body follows.

“C'mon then!” I say, my temper growing, “Fucking come on!!” My hands are in tight fists as I scream, fury has taken the reigns over all of my emotions and I charge towards the two men that remain standing. My face may be dripping with blood but I can assure you that my adrenaline hasn’t allowed me to feel a damn thing in the past 5 minutes. The two chumps split from one another and run in the opposite direction. I go to chase after them but I am torn between following them or beating the guy that is already on the ground to death. Neither of which happen because to my dismay the guy from the floor has also taken off and I am left shaking with anger.

I let out a roar, listening as the sound empties out into the deserted streets. I start to pace back and forth, my breathing is unsettled and I can’t help the tingling feeling that is coursing through my veins. I pick up my phone from the ground and shove the shattered device into my pocket. I don’t care about the headphone wire that is dangling from my pocket. I need to get to the gym, I need to ask Elizabeth how all of this shit happened. How did they asshole get my number and why the fuck did they set me up?

My nostrils flare and I struggle to take in air. I can feel the bruises beginning to mature on my skin and they are fucking painful. I want to lose my shit, I want to go fucking mental and beat the living shit out of something, or someone.

I throw myself through the gym doors and earn the attention of everyone in the building. Elizabeth walks to me cautiously, her face twisting from anger to pure horror, “What on earth happened to you?” she asks and I push past her and head to one of the punching bags. I fire some rapid blows to the sandbag but it isn’t enough, I need more. The sting on my knuckles kindles an unjustified incandescent feeling inside of my chest and I grab the first thing close to my hand and crash it to the floor. Gasps follow my actions but I don’t care, the chaos feels good and I’m not stopping until I’m fully satisfied. I pick up a small weight from the weight wrack and use my entire body to launch it to the wall, shattering the whole mirror in the process. Shards of sharp glass fly across the room and people duck for cover as the deadly points hit the floor.

“Stop it!” Elizabeth squeals with a plea as she marches towards me but I ignore her and continue on with my episode. I flip over one of the benches and stomp some heavy blasts into the wood, each heavy footstep is punctuated by an angry grunt “Please! You are scaring me!” Elizabeth is sobbing now and my movements still. My chest feels crazy as I breathe a little too quickly and my eyes land on her as my mind begins to clear. I glance around and notice one of the other female attendees on the phone, I assume that they have called the police.

“Shit.” I whisper and tears prick my eyes as I look at the destruction I have caused to Glen’s gym. This is going to cost hundreds to fix. I blacked out, I did whatever I could to distract myself from my anger and I endangered everyone in the process.

Flashing blue lights flood the gym and my panic filled eyes meet Elizabeth, “Go and wait out the back, I’ll talk to them. Everyone go home!” She rounds up everyone from inside of the gym and I do as she says and head to the back of the building.

My heart is in my throat as I wait for Elizabeth to return. When I swallow it feels like razor blades scraping the flesh of my windpipe. What the hell is wrong with me? I never get that angry. Never. Not in matches, not in training and definitely not outside of the ring. Her face… she was terrified of me. Shakily I bring my hand up to wipe at the dry blood on my face and no matter how hard I try I can’t keep the sob from leaving my throat. My brain is in survival mode and I don’t know what to feel or what to do. I know I need to apologise but how can I possibly excuse the shitstorm I just caused?

After a couple of minutes Elizabeth’s small physique ambles towards me and I walk to meet her halfway, “What did they say?” I ask, my voice hoarse. She shakes her head and folds her arms around her torso, something I have noticed she does often.

“They didn’t say anything once I confirmed that my dad was the owner. I told them the call was a false alarm and they left.” She makes sure to keep her distance from me and I don’t blame her for being afraid, what I did was totally out of character and wrong.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth… some guys jumped me and I guess I just couldn’t handle it.” I sniffle softly to stop my nose from running, the cold air irritating my sinuses.

“Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to my dad. You just destroyed his gym, this is how he makes money and now he will have to close the gym until things are repaired. Do you understand how selfish your actions were? You put everyone at risk because you couldn’t handle your own fucking emotions. Your excuses don’t give you the right to be a fucking asshole.” Her words infuriate me but I shove the emotion down deep, anger hasn’t gotten me anywhere tonight and I don’t plan on anything else unfolding. I step towards her but she backs away and I stop immediately.

“I’m not going to hurt you…” I promise and she sighs softly, seeming defeated, “I’m just sorry for everything. For frightening you and for everything before that.” My expression is sincere and she gives me a nod of recognition.

“Anger makes you stupid and stupidity gets you killed.” I try to ignore the gravity of her words but they weigh on my chest so tightly that I struggle to breathe, “My dad is on his way here… he is going to be distraught when he gets here and I hope you have the money to pay for the damage.” She pauses briefly and turns away from me, “I’ll see you back inside. You should get cleaned up.” She gestures to my face and heads back into the gym. I trail in after her and head to the bathroom. The person I see staring back at me in the mirror shakes me to my core. My eyes are bloodshot and beneath my right eye is beginning to turn purple. My lips tremble together, the skin crusty from dried blood and the cold winter air outside. My dark hair is twisted messily, my nose is busted open and my jacket is stained vermilion. I look like total shit.

I toss my jacket by the sink and bow my head close to the faucet. Turning it on I splash my face with some warm water and watch as the rusty brown colour streams from my skin. My knuckles are grazed as well as bruised and I hiss as the water hits the cuts, washing it clean of any unwanted debris. Next time I lose a fight I am making sure I see the faces of my attackers. Everything happened so fucking fast and even if I did see their faces it is unlikely that I would be able to remember any details. Now it is time to face the music and as much as I am dreading it I need to own up to what I have done. This is going to fracture Glen’s heart. He has been trying so hard to get the gym up and running and just when it was beginning to get popular I went and fucked the whole thing up.

I emerge from the bathroom, my dark denim jacket is draped over my forearm as I enter back into the training area. Glen has his hands on his hips as he examines the damage and I cringe at the devastation I have created, “Coach…” I call for him quietly and he turns to me. Luckily my white t-shirt doesn’t have any spotting on it and I hope I have cleaned myself up to look the tiniest bit presentable, “I’ll pay for all of it. I’ll pay for all of it, I… I’ll go to IKEA tomorrow and I’ll pick up another sheet of glass for the wall, just give me the measurements and I’ll go first thing tomorrow morning.” I ramble and Glen steps closer to me, his arms come to wrap around my shoulders and he pulls me into a tight hug.

“It’s okay, H.” His large hand pats me on the back and I reluctantly wrap my arms around him. My body shakes with pain, I try to control it but I am unsuccessful, “Elizabeth told me everything. She is going to go with you tomorrow to pick up the new glass and some adhesive to attach it to the wall.” Glen pulls away from me and I nod my head, remaining silent and full of shame.

I’m quick to grab a sweeping brush and a dust pan, beginning to tidy up the mess I have made. Glen lends a hand and so does Elizabeth before they both head home for the night and I disappear to my cold sleeping bag upstairs.

Alone.

nanowrimo:

Writers often dabble in the surreal, especially when writing fantasy or science fiction. We asked a few writers to share how they approach creating magical worlds. Today, K.M. Vanderbilt shares her three rules of thumb for creating a believable world:

When dealing with surrealism, writers often struggle with believability. It isn’t always easy for readers to embrace your vision. 

Here are a few handy tricks:

First:Consistency.

Apply rules, world-build until your calluses are thick, and stay consistent within the bounds of your universe.  

 

Keep reading

so many ideas

so little time

so few moments of making it work

so much effort into nothing

so all-important stories

so pivotal words

so lots of thoughts

thirty-three questions / ideas to write a sci-fi world

1. does the story take place on Earth?
2. when does it take place (future, present, past)
   ^ side note: it can take place in the past—think of Star Wars’ “a long time ago”
3. what is the government type?
4. are there extraterrestrial species?
5. what is the effect of the world to the plot?
6. what are forms of new technology?
7. is there a developed timeline?
8. check out some sci-fi movies and series (Star Wars, Star Trek) and write down the scenes
9. read some sci-fi books (Ender’s Game, Dune) and note the recurring themes and tropes
10. sci-fi often crosses with dystopia. does your story touch other genres?
11. what is the main differences between that world and ours?
12. what languages are spoken?
13. why did you decide on sci-fi?
14. draw a map of the world
15. draw some of the creatures
16. fix together a playlist from different sci-fi movies and shows to create a background to your story
17. what books is it inspired by?
18. could the world be Earth-similar?
19. what are the great events in this world’s history?
20. how is the culture different?
21. what foods are common? is it similar to the kind we eat now, or is more developed for activities such as space travel?
22. what do people in this world wear?
23. how far have people travelled in this world?
24. what are common activities in this world?
25. how is long-distance communication done?
26. what is the main/Universal tongue?
27. what are some funky/different trends in this world?
28. how has technology advanced?
29. draw out one of the most important places in this world
30. are the names different? made up, for example
31. what drives the people in this world?
32. what is something about this world that is better than ours?
33. what difference of this world makes it worse?

business writing prompts - requested by anon

• rival companies
• competing for a single job
• grumpy superior / cheerful worker
• rivalling workers put together for a job
• friends to enemies
• business heir
• ~distrust~
• working to get fired from job under parent
• business moguls
• trying to outbid [something]
• sabotage from inside the business
• self-sabotage
• experienced and tragically horrible…at everything
• startup businesses
• small business
• rival businesses but in a school
• old money vs new money companies
• the annoying business associate
• sabotaging your associate to get full control of the company
• teaming up with the company’s biggest rival to defeat a newcomer in the business
• small business that makes the international news and is thrust into fame
• siblings rivalling for a coveted job
• [^ in parents’ business]
• trying to rebuild a ruined company
• business that is cursed
• local business by day [flower shop, restaurant] magic shop by night
• any of the above but restaurant edition
• ~food~
• earning a position in your rival’s business to sabotage
• old family enemies

put in the tags your favourite line you’ve written. I’m curious.

the writerish urge to start a new wip at every given moment then leave it unfinished twenty words in because we won’t finish it anyway.

writing muscle sprains

[@/moonlit_sunflower_books on ig]

i’m a trained dancer and amateur runner, and suffice it to say, i think i have significant experience with muscle strains, be it immobilised shoulders or sprained ankles. and all too often, these are written into books completely unrealistically, whether it’s the quick recovery or over-estimated physical limits.

i’m not a professional writer or a health professional, and most of this is based on research and personal experience, so make sure you do your own research as well. but i hope this helps!

when they happen

there are plenty of ways that one can get a muscle sprain. it could be twisting an ankle if it gets caught on something, or if you overdo weights at the gym, or if you use the wrong form. it’s essentially over-stretching a tendon in the wrong direction, and can cause a ligament tear of different degrees. depending on how it happens, it can be of varying seriousness - for example, a twisted ankle may not be as serious as a third degree ligament tear along the calf.

there’s often immediate pain and a soft popping sound, depending on where and what degree the injury is, but sometimes you don’t even notice you’ve strained something until you try to use the muscle later on.

immediate treatment

rest, ice, compression, elevation, and a whole lot of painkillers are very necessary with muscle strains. it’s probably unlikely that your character can pull their hamstring and hike to a waterfall the next day without passing out six times - with an injured shoulder i struggled a lot writing a two hour exam paper; i don’t want to imagine sword fighting with one.

they’re usually the most painful in the first 72-96 hours, and provided they’re given adequate rest and not overexerted at all, they will get less painful gradually. but keep in mind that the slightest exertion can be very harmful and can make an injury even worse. they need a LOT of rest, a diet with enough protein to rebuild the muscle, and painkillers so that you can function.

long-term treatment

the most recommended treatment is physiotherapy, which both strengthens the muscles and improves mobility. especially when people tend to repeatedly injure the same muscle, this can be really helpful. for example, i used to keep injuring my ankle when i danced or ran, and i saw a physiotherapist who helped me strengthen it!

but every muscle strain takes quite a bit of time to heal - 2 weeks in the best case, but rest for 4-6 weeks is essential for a complete recovery. rest doesn’t necessarily mean full immobilisation, and it’s recommended that you ease yourself back into exercise after 2-3 weeks, but g e n t l y. so if your character sprains their ankle, they can definitely not win a fight the next day without some serious assistance.

long-term effects

most major injuries are simply minor injuries that aren’t given time to heal. if the injury is ignored, it’s going to get much worse. you can use this in your story, because if your character is injured really badly in chapter four, they can suffer in a fight in chapter twenty-five because they didn’t give it the time to heal. not only does it make your writing more realistic, it provides your character with more obstacles and makes their life hell :D

in extreme cases, it could even be harmful for the rest of the person’s life and they may never be able to use the muscle the same way.

we’ve got friends to lovers and friends with benefits and enemies to lovers, so when are we gonna get enemies with benefits?

Warm up sketch, featuring Patty ~