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# 𝐋𝐔𝐇𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ a low - activity multimuse roleplay blog , triggering topics & heavily nsfw content will be present. minors , do not follow.
an exploration of : survivor's guilt , the final girls & boys , dark academia , possession , horrors of summer camp , things that go bump in the night , unreality , love in its ugliest form , gorefest , break the cutie , etc.
⠀ †. 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙳 .
Is he a scary man covered in blood? Or is he my baby girl? Spot the difference
isn't mad at her. always does seem to surprise her with his forgiving nature. feels like maybe that's always been the problem between them : beau never holds her accountable for her actions. she'll tell him all about her therapy sessions if he wants to listen and she'll tell him that there was no excuse for what she'd done. that little game of hers was sick and twisted, disgusting. oh, there's so much she wants to say, so much progress she's made over the last year. lips curve upward to a small smile. still feels hesitant, cheeks flushed and mind racing with a million thoughts at once. this is too good to be true, isn't it ? " me too, " admits in a small voice, completely frozen over his closeness. way he looms over her, warmth and tall stature seeming to shield her from the world around them. swallows thickly, tempted to reach out and curl her fist around his shirt. willow. hasn't heard anyone call her by her name in so long. seems to be a foreign concept to her now, all too accustomed to the informalities associated with exotic dancing. bitch, slut, whore. draws a sharp breath, neck craned so she's looking up at him. swears she can feel her pulse jump when their fingers link together and oh, it takes every bit of self - control not to guide their joint hands closer to her mouth so she can press chaste kisses along his knuckles. simply follows behind him as he leads her out of the party. looks down at their joint hands all the while, smiling to herself. " i think it was fate, " she shouts over the music. " like . . . i've been thinking about you a lot more lately. "
his eyes snapped back to her, searching her face as if he was trying to gauge how much she meant that. he wasn’t sure how to respond at first. fate. was that what this was? maybe. or maybe they were just two people who never got closure, two people still tangled in each other's orbit because they didn’t know how to be anything else.
a soft chuckle slipped past his lips, more of an exhale than an actual laugh. ❝ fate, huh? ❞ he tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as they walked out of the noisy estate and into one of the empty bedrooms. the music was muffled now, the quietness wrapping around them like a protective barrier.
❝ maybe it is, ❞ he said, his tone dropping to something more intimate, more honest. ❝ yeah? ❞ his thumb brushed over the back of her hand, tracing the delicate lines of her skin. feels tempted to say it back, when he finally turns to face her. free hand locks the door without taking his eyes off her. contemplates saying it back, but the words stick in his throat. time away and time spent with others among other things finally gave him the wake up call that his entirety revolved around her. remind is the reason he lets go of her hand suddenly, a low hum vibrates in his throat.
stole a glance below her face, the soft glow of bedroom lights casting shadows across her face. she was close enough now that he could see every detail—the curve of her lips, the faint flush on her cheeks. but then something caught his eye, a glimmer of silver resting against her collarbone.
it was the locket. the one he'd given her that night—the last time they had spoken before everything fell apart, before he’d disappeared. he remembered pressing it into her hand, the cool metal warmed by her touch as she clasped it with trembling fingers. he had given it to her in a final, desperate attempt to hold onto something between them. It was supposed to be a goodbye.
but she still wore it.
his fingers twitched at his sides before it rose. hand hovered, like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for the locket or leave it alone. but the curiosity, the pull, was too strong. he let his fingers gently graze her collarbone, lightly tracing the chain before his thumb came to rest on the cool surface of the locket.
❝ you still have this? ❞ his voice was barely above a whisper, the words catching as if he were afraid of breaking the fragile moment between them. his heart hammered in his chest as his eyes lifted from the locket to her face, searching for answers in the depths of her gaze. he swallowed hard, his throat tight. ❝ why … why are you still wearing it? ❞ he didn’t know what answer he was expecting. maybe part of him hoped she’d forgotten she even had it on, that it was just an old habit. but the fact that it was still there, resting against her skin like it had never left, made something deep inside him ache.
hey. the word alone makes her heart beat fast because, is he not as nervous as she is ? willow isn't good under pressure, less so when it entails tucking her heart back up her sleeve. always runs or crumbles completely apart. somehow manages to stay put together, elbow resting on the bar top for support. her feet hurt in these new heels, the people around them won't stop yelling. " it might help, " she admits earnestly, trying to smile through her own self - doubt. had told reed that she was fixed now, but how much of that is really true ? apology hangs on the tip of her tongue, for what ? she isn't yet quite sure. could choose between the stupid look on her face or everything she's done. " thanks. so do you. i like your hair like this, makes you look like those models on gq. " smile grows, so distracted by the sound of her beating heart that she forgets the unwelcome presence at her side. she's turned nearly entirely in beau's direction, instinctively wishing to feel closer to him. it's short - lived, though, because her acquaintance cuts into the conversation. willow is quiet, watching the brief exchange between the two. doesn't need any further persuading. " thanks for the advice. i promise i'll invest in the bitcoin thing. " she won't. already has a duffle bag of money under her bed and that looks like it'd last her just about forever. smiles politely at the over - zealous stranger, small step forth in beau's direction until attention has shifted completely to her ex. " okay. " nods. " somewhere quieter. i don't really know where we are, though, " admits sheepishly. " do you wanna finish your drink ? "
he thinks back seconds ago. the way her lips trembled when she asked if he was real almost undid him right there. he wanted to reach out, to touch her, to remind her—and maybe himself—that this wasn’t a dream. when she said he looked like a GQ model, he nearly laughed, but the smile stayed stuck somewhere in his throat. she had no idea how beautiful she was, standing there with her new heels and that damn look in her eyes that made him feel things he had spent the last year trying to forget. it was infuriating, how easy it was for her to turn him inside out. even now, even after all this time. when she mentions his drink, asking if he wanted to finish it, and the casualness of her question caught him off guard. he hadn’t expected her to seem so… calm. so okay with standing here with him after everything that had happened. ❝ i could, ❞ he answered, his voice low, eyes tracing her face like he was memorizing it all over again. then, he shrugged, setting the glass down on the bar, leaving it full. ❝ but i’d rather go somewhere with you. ❞ it wasn’t just about the noise or the crowd, or even the guy who clearly didn’t understand that his time was up. it was about them. they couldn’t talk here, not like they needed to. his gaze locked with hers, and for a moment, he swore the rest of the world disappeared. he leaned in, his voice just above a whisper. ❝ let’s get out of here then, willow. ❞ he hadn’t said her name in so long, but the way it felt on his lips—soft and familiar—almost broke something inside him. she was still his weakness, even now. especially now. somewhere between leaning in and whispering in her ear, his hand traveled over to touch her own. brushing fingertips in a warning, sliding the length of individual digits along one another. his fingers were longer than hers—the difference in size always stirred something within him. then, he intertwines them, pulling her away from the world that had turned silent and slowed for him.
silently sips on her vodka coke, nodding each time the acknowledgment shifts in her direction. can't hear over the loud music, crowds of young adults excitedly setting their drinks down for lines of coke. briefly wonders whether this was the kind of environment reed had grown up in. if it is, she can understand why he turned out so fucked up. but then there's beau. sweet, gentle, soft beau. never did behave like these guys and if he did, it's probably some deeply repressed memory she's tucked away with the rest of the bad ones. they always creep back, though. make their way to the center of her brain, biting down to release their venom. courses through the entirety of her body until she's overcome with it. until every little fixture in her life reminds her of him.
smell of his after shave, the adorable twist of his lips when he'd smile. his hands and the way they'd touch so eagerly yet so delicately. always did treat her like she was this precious thing he was afraid to break. in the end, she thinks she had broken him instead. it's her karma, she supposes, to be sat by a bar while listening to anecdotes about crypto and nfts.
thin straw rests on the corner of her mouth, gaze straying down to the phone next to her beverage. it's two hours past midnight. should go home, wash away the stink of overpowering musk, rid herself of pesky little thoughts that begin and end with beau or reed or this shitty party.
freezes with familiarity once the order is made. soft, gently spoken and rich enough to bring a flush of warm to her cheeks every time. stomach twists with anxiety, knuckles press against polished wood and hands tighten to form a fist. a breath, two, before she's gathered enough courage. twists her head in the direction of the speaker, jaw slacked with amazement.
" um . . . beau ? " lips tremble. " hi. i . . . are you real ? " or has the bartender roofied her with some trippy psychedelic ?
❝ hey, ❞ his own voice came out steadier than he expected. her name was on the tip of his tongue when he greeted her back, but something inside stopped him. it felt foreign to say her name after not saying it for a while. he paused, not sure how to bridge the gap between the last time they’d spoken and now, standing together around the chaotic estate. his heart thudded painfully in his chest as he met her gaze, every muscle in his body suddenly aware of her presence. ❝ d'you want me to pinch you? ❞ words falls from lips in a way that suggests he was half serious and half teasing. he needed to smoke. ❝ you look good. ❞ just when he was about to give her a onceover, the slide of his drink from the bartender snapped his attention away, looking down and grabbing it with words of gratitude before his attention was back on her. lips parted to say something until the male who was previously talking to her audibly cleared his throat, flicking beau's gaze over her shoulder. ❝ you with each other? ❞ between the stranger tripping over his own words about technicalities that no they didn't come together, but he was talking to willow before beau came along—the corner of beau's lip twitched up into a smirk. ❝ it's loud. ❞ he states, eyes falling back to willow. ❝ somewhere quieter … to catch up. ❞ brown hues bled into her blues, the comment wasn't a question—teetered on a subtle command to her, half a test to see how she felt even though flushed cheeks felt like enough of a sign. ❝ i didn't plan to stick around long, so— ❞ pause, placing the ball in her court to both go with him and humble the male behind her with a chance to rekindle. or, humble beau and carry on with conversation and company she didn't seem to care to throw away.
“i should—but if i did, i would end up just like them.” rae gestured towards the body at her feet, wanting so desperately to run from this. “i don’t have a choice here.”
❝ you didn't have one for months, ❞ he corrects. ❝ remember all those things i asked you to burn with me? the breakup cleanse thing … that was just evidence from the victims. you're a bonafide accessory—or does that make you an accomplice? well, doesn't matter … if i go down, rae. you're going with me. ❞
" i .. why do you have this , kieran ? i thought you said you got rid of the leftover evidence . "
❝ fuck me for having other shit to do. it slipped my mind. feel free to get rid of it for me since you have all the free time in the world? ❞ holds his arm up, admiring the expensive watch that was now his. ❝ bit tacky though for my taste. y'know, gaudy? this the shit you're into when you're with rich dickheads? ❞
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 , shadows lengthening like grasping fingers . " you killed her ? you — you said you didn't know where she was ... " stammered words got caught in her throat . the frigid corpse at her feet was a cruel punchline to a morbid joke . her mother always said late nights , and hanging around the wrong crowd would eventually catch up with her . " she was my fucking bestfriend , I have to tell someone ! "
❝ no. ❞ sharp timbre immediately retaliates, like thunder cracking night sky in a violent whip. ❝ you've got … you got it all wrong— ❞ jaw tightens, doesn't waver eyesight from her own. ❝ she came at me first. i caught her trying to steal my stash … my savings. ❞ was no secret that kieran was trying to save up enough money to get out of town, felt trapped for a while and didn't want to die as he was nor where he was. he had bigger plans. ❝ the fight, it got out of hand. she fucking stabbed me, bree … coked out of her fucking mind. it was self defense before i knew what happened. i blacked out when it did. ❞ low voice trembles, throat clogged and now he has to look away from her as eyes coat over with brine. visible wound to his claim was on his hip, bandaged and wrapped around torso with a gauze. oceanic hues slide back to face her, boring past flesh and bone. ❝ bree, ❞ her name is soft on his tongue, staring her down before head shakes slightly. ❝ you can't. please. ❞
this wasn’t his usual crowd—too many trust funds, too much power play—once blended in, now he separated himself from old inner circle he was born into. he’d hoped his return would be quieter, but this was the kind of place where people noticed everything. it was inevitable that the first text the man received when his feet touched american soil after being gone away: PARTY AT MY ESTATE FUCKFACE!! BRING HOT GIRLS!! eyes turned his way as he slipped through the heavy doors, the scent of expensive perfume and alcohol swirling in the air.
it had been a year. a long, restless year.
paris was supposed to be a distraction, a way to forget the mess he’d left behind. the memories of willow, of how things ended, of the love triangle that twisted the three of them up in ways none of them saw coming. he thought distance would help, that leaving would make it easier to move on from her. but he’d been wrong. even halfway around the world, she was still there—her laughter, her touch, her scent—clinging to him like smoke.
as he exits large estate, his eyes scan the semi-crowded outdoors. rowdy girls in the pool with their tops off on the shoulders of men they played chicken fight. in another corner, a circle of people doing lines—it made beau avert his gaze with indifference. he chose to go to the open bar, not registering bright haired femme that had her back turned to him.
❝ just a virgin mojito, thanks. ❞
@obsesionadas
