. class of our own

[isaac mcavoy]

Despite the fact that he'd sobered up considerably since the beginning of his conversation with Alessia, the after effects of substance abuse still clung to Isaac's senses. Edges were blurred, sounds distant, and more than anything he was struggling to truly believe that things really were as bad as they seemed, that this wasn't somehow a hideous nightmare that had bled into his waking life. The thin band of precious metal that was wrapped around his wedding finger felt tighter than before, so tight that he wondered how he could have been wearing it without even thinking about it all these years. Running a hand down his face he noticed the edge of clamminess to his skin, cold under touch but ever so slightly damp with perspiration. It would probably be a good idea to shower. Or at least it would be, had Alessia not decided to show up there and then. Abandoning his phone on the kitchen counter, Isaac headed to the door, pausing with one hand ready to unlock it. Adidas trackpants adorned his awkwardly long legs, the t-shirt he had been wearing earlier abandoned after his body temperature had decided to soar. He wondered whether he shouldn't go and fetch it. He wondered whether he shouldn't pretend not to be in, a low rumble of guilt disturbing his already unsettled stomach. It was awfully soon to be seeing the girl who caused his divorce, after all. And at his marital home! Panic seized the musician, cold and serious as the grave. A glimpse through the peephole washed his doubts away. There she was, the golden girl, her skin so peachy and her hair like waves of honey, even in the unflattering perspective of a fisheye lens. Affection and lust surged through Isaac in equal measures, his selfish desire to touch her washing away all his guilt, leaving only desire and genuine affection in its wake. He couldn't wait to hold her.  Pulling the door open, it would be safe to say that Isaac was beaming. Despite feeling like evil incarnate the whole day, even despite offering to leave the pretty young thing, seeing her there in front of him still felt too good to be true. Wordlessly he pulled her inside, closing the door behind her as if that plank of wood could separate them from the world. Ignoring the impending headache and itching of cravings, he pushed her against the now closed door, his whole body up against hers as he kissed her. Pale fingers buried in honeycomb hair, Isaac was overcome with yet another surge of affection as he was engulfed in the smell of her perfume, distinctive and oh so comforting. Finally he pulled away.  "You have no idea how happy I am to see you." .................... --- alessia alves --- notes: starters are my absolute worst. --- music: libertines. so original.

[alessia alves]

For the past seventy two hours Alessia felt like she was on an emotional roller coaster with no end in sight. Hidden away in a West Village apartment by herself, the great unknown led to the worst of feelings. From regret and guilt, to a false sense of a empowerment, but mostly unwavering misery and anxiety so severe she was sure she’d be sick as she waited for what she thought would be the inevitable end. Since meeting Isaac the barely legal blonde began feeling things she’d never felt before, all of which were welcomed until this. All of the money and resources in the world and it still couldn’t buy her a way to turn it off. Instead she was left to lick her self inflicted wounds and wait it out, only solaced the moment she heard from the man she was so busy convincing herself she was never going to hear from again. All too elated with her wrong assumptions she found herself arriving at the apartment that still seemed as though it should be forbidden, but true to their entire relationship, it felt all too wrong but so mindblowingly right at the same time. Rubber soles hit the pavement and she rushed to catch the half open door, part of the beauty of New York at times being that virtually anyone could get lost in the crowd. The usually done up model now dressed down as could be, donned in her workout gear and an obnoxious vintage fox coat, blended seamlessly into the rest of the city that never slept and right behind closed doors without as much as a single flash of a camera. A deep breath of relief escaped her as she made her way up the stairs and to his door and perfectly manicured fingertips tapped at the phone in her hand to let him know she was there. Obnoxious butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her cheeks turned rosy at those three words. Pouty lips turned into a smile as crystal blue eyes stayed fixed on the lit up screen, but before she could wipe the stupid look off her face he was at the door pulling her in. Those familiar lips crashing against hers gave her something else to do with them, ruled only with intense emotion now. Her body pressed into his as her thin arms wrapped around his neck, the inherent desire she had for him that refused to go away scared even herself sometimes. It was partially understandable when he was with his wife and couldn’t talk to her, or worse, in the same room but couldn’t touch her. But with him right here, right in front of her, right in her arms, she still wanted him more and she didn’t know what to do with such an overwhelming need. Pearly whites bit at the fat of her bottom lip, and she kept her fingertips intertwined behind his neck when he pulled away. I’ve been going so crazy without you, I felt like dying for a minute, she tells him nervously, maybe even a little bit too honestly. In a pitiful attempt to distract him from the desperation laced through her last words, she places one last kiss to his lips. Tanned arms drop from his neck and a stray hand finds his, her warm fingers lacing through his cold ones. Do I get a grand tour? .................... ---notes: SO. SORRY. ---music: copied you, obvi.

[isaac mcavoy]

Since the time they had first kissed, her lips tasting unbelievably sweet against his cocaine induced dry tongue, Isaac had had a thirst for Alessia that was literally never sated. When she wasn't around it was agony and when she was around it was a different kind of agony, a yearning to be closer to her even when she was on his lap, even when he was inside her, but also a desire to be closer to her soul, to hear her childhood stories and to know what went on behind those beautiful blue eyes. He loved falling asleep talking to her almost as much as he loved falling asleep with his limbs tangled up in hers, the sound of her voice so soothing and the content always so intriguing, even when she wasn't saying much about anything at all. He was obsessed with the girl, utterly dependent and unrepentant about that fact. With her dainty arms dangled around his neck he tugged at the fur of her coat, similar to a child needing his mother but really signifying his desire for her to take it off. He loved her in gym wear, the stretchy fabric clinging to every curve, the casualness of it all putting him at ease. Deepening the kiss he could feel a stir in his boxers, but he stifled it, knowing he wouldn't be up to much at this point. Instead he forced himself to pull away, though his eyes didn't leave hers as she spoke. Her dramatic claims bring a smirk tinged grin to his face. "I'm glad you didn't die, though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a relief to hear you're as psycho for me as I am for you." Letting his hands find the small of her back, he starts tracing gentle kisses down her neck. At 6'3" this is no easy task. Before he can deepen the gesture she's pulled away, her hand finding his much larger one. "Uh..." he glances around the modest apartment, which is open plan enough that you can see almost every element just from where they're stood. A bedroom separated by part of a wall, a bathroom tucked into the corner, a kitchen that hasn't been touched since Chloe left. On a counter was a couple of boxes of her belongings, the sight of which sends a pang of guilt through the lanky boy. He distracts himself with another smile, turning suddenly to face her and sweeping her off her feet intot a fireman's lift. "As much as I'd love to show you the infinity pool and the games room and the indoor cinema," he said, crossing the room and approaching the bed, "there's really only one place I'd like to show you." Hoisting her off his shoulders and onto the bouncy mattress, he clambered on top of her, her body so tiny under his. After kissing her again he pulled away to smile, taking her in in all her glory, her golden hair fanned out behind her. "I know I shouldn't be thinking this much less saying it, but it feels so good to be here with you." After pushing a stray hair out of her face he kissed her again, a hand loose on her waist. "How're you holding up?" .................... --- notes: this is so bad but i really wanted to get a reply in! --- music: libertines.

[alessia alves]

In six short months, the imperfectly perfect man taught her more about herself than anyone that came before him, even herself. After a lifetime of being told who she was and building the world’s most generic facade, she felt like she was finally becoming the person she was always meant to be. While it may not have been a good one, it was the raw, real thing. Imperfections and insecurities mattered little here, especially when she so willingly and even more naively handed over her heart. Loving the lead singer felt a bit like standing at a shoreline in the midst of a hurricane, the waves crashing beautifully, but the threat of drowning very real. Alessia was playing with fire, but there was no stopping it now, no matter how destructive it was already becoming. As soon as he tugged at the at the already heavy fur she let it drop from her shoulders to the floor beneath her, writhing both arms through the silk lining and right back around his neck. If she was oozing with anything, it was such eagerness to please him in even the most minute ways. The weight of her body rested on the tips of her toes and she did her best to provide easier access, a head full of lionesque falling back slowly against the door behind her. Well I’m glad you’re relieved, eyes peered down at him as she breathed in his familiar scent, you’re ruining me. If only she knew how true those words really were. Instead of looking around the open apartment, her eyes only follow his gaze, not really wanting to see the place he called a home with his wife. She wondered why she’d spent so much time wondering what his place was like and wished she could take back the thoughtless request. From the corner of her eye she spots a couch in the corner where she imagined they spent lazy Sunday’s, a table toward the kitchen where she imagined they ate dinner at together every night.. even that was too much. Before the mind wandering gets the best of her the only thing in sight now is the wood floor and Adidas stripes, a squeal that turned into a laugh escapes her before her body falls to the bed behind her. Heels dig into the plush mattress after kicking her shoes off, furthering herself up the bed. There was only one place I really wanted to see, lips pull tight into a smirk before his meet hers again. And it was definitely the game room, she huffs, throwing one arm behind her head and the other over his bare shoulder. Warmth rushes through her. On the outside, with his body hovering over hers. Again on the inside, at the sentiment she’d listen to over and over again. You have no idea. It was safe to assume that anyone else would have felt dirty and at their lowest of lows in another woman’s bed with her husband she had so stupidly fallen in love with, but all she felt was lucky. I just can’t believe I’m in Isaac McAvoy’s bed, she mumbles between kisses, her fingers lost in his own mess of hair. For the first time since getting there, she really studies his face. It’s easy to notice his bloodshot eyes, still-wide pupils, and the dark circles beneath them, a half hearted smile offered before her eyes met the ceiling. Taking a moment to herself, she pondered the questioned that seemed so easy to answer. I mean, I’m good right now, her eyes fall back to his, I’m just afraid for when I’m not with you. Fingertips leave his hair and trace his jawline, one of her favorite features on him. I don’t care about me though, I’m worried about how you are. .................... ---notes: i have no excuse for this. ---music: silence.

[isaac mcavoy]

The silk sheets beneath them are a cruel reminder of his soon to be ex wife. Everything nice about the apartment is down to her, the predictable scented candles and quality bed linen of course, but also the fact that it was so clean and tidy, that the fridge was well stocked with all sorts of food, and that it was warm because the central heating bill had been paid. Left to his own devices, Isaac would probably have a packet of chips in the cupboard, Xbox wires tangled all over the floor, and Chelsea FC bedsheets. He'd found Chloe as a teenage boy and under the adult facade that's what he'd remained, allowing her to run the show. It was alarming, really, how much she'd simply taken over from his mother as his primary guardian. Undoubtedly this was a huge part of the reason he didn't feel the age gap between himself and Alessia so much - in actuality, she was probably a whole lot more mature than he was. Still, he wished he'd changed the sheets, knowing all too well how persistently the smell of Chloe's perfume could linger. It felt cruel. But exhaustion kept the wolves at bay, so drained by the day was he that he couldn't even begin to engage his now defunct moral compass. No, instead he buried himself in Alessia's neck, peppering kisses and inhaling the smell of her perfume instead. "You're ruining me." Isaac looked at her, bemusement creeping into the corners of his mouth and pulling it into a smile. Ruin was a great word, a perfect articulation of how he felt about her, one that captured the catastrophe and the fragile beauty better than any other. He made a mental note to write a song around those three little words. Leaning down to kiss her again he slowed it this time, collapsing onto the bed next to her, a hand finding her hair as he let his lips meet hers, soft and slow and so intoxicating it was probably delaying his hangover. Sentiments he's not eloquent enough to put into words are bubbling up inside of him frustratingly, his affection so intense English fails him, overtaken by body language.  She teases him and he laughs for the first time since those pictures were made public, a loud laugh that eases all the tension he didn't realise he'd been storing between his shoulders. Falling onto his back, he laughs again as he thinks about it, though really it wasn't that funny a joke. Delirious maybe, he takes her hand in his, threading her slender fingers between his guitar calloused ones. "This must be what it feels like to be thrown a rope when you're drowning," he said aloud, though it was more to himself. Her skin was soft under his touch, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles. Up until that moment he'd thought of himself as being her protector, the foot of height and decade between them enough to convince himself he was in charge here, but that couldn't be further from the truth. He meant what he'd said, she'd saved him. Hearing his full name in her voice is oddly thrilling, making her sound like a groupie and not his actual girlfriend. "If you want me to sign your boobs I can do that," he grinned, nudging her. Just like that he was back to wanting to tear her clothes off, his desire to hear her say his name over and over overtaking all the pureness of affection he'd felt before. It was that mix that proved so intoxicating to Isaac, the fact that one moment she was this incredible other half to him, a soulmate and someone he felt knew him better than anyone else in the world. Then she was a ridiculously hot girl again, a teenage model who'd do anything to please him in bed and out of it. It was a power trip for sure. Her fingers are tracing his features and it calms him down again, his grip on her waist tightening. "Don't worry about me. This is gonna suck for a while Ale, but give it time. People will realize this isn't just me wanting to get my dick wet and they'll start taking us seriously." Thoughts of Joseph flit through his mind, sending a sharp jab of pain to his chest. "...They'll have to."  .................... --- notes: I GAVE YOU NOTHING. --- music: g u e s s

[alessia alves]

If Alessia was the rope, she was also the one that pushed Isaac into the unsafe, treacherous waters. In one way she felt bad, only for him. Her heart breaking when she imagined his whole world shaken upside down only to be chewed up and spit out for the whole world to see. The star crossed lover had never even remotely implied he was unhappy with his wife, or that he had thought about leaving her. At least not out loud. But in another way, she took it upon herself to assume that if he was indeed happily married and sure of his relationship, there was nothing she could have done to make him stray. At eighteen, possibly at any age, she knew she couldn’t give Isaac the things that Chloe did. She was hardly a proper adult who could take care of herself, much less be the proper wife to take care of him in the ways she imagined a wife would. All she knew was that she’d go to the ends of the earth to make him happy. So maybe she did push him, but at least she was willing to sacrifice herself in the process of saving him. With the lanky man now at her side, she rolls to her own right into him, fitting just like the missing puzzle piece. A spandex covered leg hikes up over his and the weight of her upper half rests on a propped elbow. It was so comforting, not having to worry about him getting up and leaving, or checking his cellphone every five minutes. Just being there, right next to him, she couldn’t help but be all smiles, only wondering in that moment how anyone could want anything more. And once again, how anyone could leave him, no matter what he’d done. Right here, she points to the spot just over her beating heart. Then I can have it tattooed and you’ll be there forever. Her arm extends over his chest to his bare arm, ‘love’ tattoo exposed. And you can add an ‘I’ and ‘Alessia’, finger tips trace the missing words to the preexisting tattoo. At the same time her lips found their way to his again, only to leave and make their way to the spot where his ear met his jaw, lingering there for a moment. She feared time wasn’t really all this situation needed. Even if in a month there weren’t photos and further speculations plastered all over every major gossip outlet on the internet and covers of US Weekly, she pessimistically thought they still wouldn’t be taken in with open arms as a couple. Quite literally biting her tongue as to not ruin his seemingly optimistic thought process. However, that fear wasn’t enough to make her care. In some fucked way, the idea of it being them against the world was special to her, more meaningful. Suddenly restless in the bed he shared with his wife, she maneuvers herself on top of him, as if that meant she wasn’t in someone else's bed at all. Lifting her chest from his and propping herself up right she pulls her long hair to one side, absentmindedly playing with the ends. And what if they don’t? She asks, not because that worries her, but to see if the man beneath her cared anymore than she did. .................... ---notes: mobile lol ---music: silence.

[isaac mcavoy]

Despite her regular assertions to the contrary, Isaac couldn't imagine a more selfless person than Alessia Alves. It was ridiculous that her public persona was so sexualised, so savvy and self absorbed and deeply, deeply materialistic, because none of those things bore any resemblance to the version of her that he knew. His Alessia was sexy but prone to shyness about it, deeply naive, selfless and ultimately altruistic. It wasn't just that she lived to please, he could tell that his happiness brought her happiness in turn, even if she wasn't the source of it. It was probably why she'd never once asked him to leave his wife - she knew that he loved Chloe and didn't want to have to give her up, so she didn't make it a competition. Her lack of pushiness on the subject was probably his biggest source of guilt in the whole fiasco. Now that the decision had been made for him, Isaac found it relatively easy to assure himself he'd somehow had a part in it, that he wasn't just some spineless cheat waiting to be found out. No, he'd set this up, he'd know it'd happen eventually. There was some truth to that. A little like suicide by cop, ultimately he'd wanted out of the relationship but he hadn't been able to move himself to do it, so he'd gotten Chloe to. Alessia raises a perfectly manicured finger to tap her heart and Isaac's feels as though it's about to explode, a grin threatening to split his face in two. "That might look a bit shit," he said, blue eyes following her finger as it traced his tattoo, "but I tell you what, I'll get your initials someplace else. We can go tomorrow." Tomorrow. Because there would be a tomorrow, one that followed a night together, and one that preceded another night together if he got his way. It was strange to not have to steal an hour here and there... he'd be lying if he said a little bit of him didn't miss it already. But that was stupid, because she was here kissing him and draping her perfect body across his, and he's dreamt of being able to have her all to himself for so long. Feeling her uncertainty and really not wanting to let it infect him, Isaac looped an arm around her neck, pulling her in for a cuddle. When she pulls away his hand falls to the small of her back, fingertips edging under the waistband of her yoga pants though only just. Her question gives him pause, a small frown crossing his face as he mulls it over. It would suck, that much was for sure. He didn't give a fuck about the press, or his manager, or even most of the band, but there were a few he'd like to redeem himself to. Joe, mostly, but also his family, and even hers to a certain extent. Whilst he knew he wouldn't be rushing her down the altar any time soon, the thought that maybe her mom would never forgive him wasn't one he was all that comfortable with. Still, no need to fret now, not when it was such early days. "If they don't," he started, a finger tucked under her chin, nudging her up to look at him, "then they can go fuck themselves. I've got everything I need right here." .................... --- notes: clicheeeee. --- music: nodda.

[alessia alves]

It had been easy not to worry about the future when it felt so far out of her control. Just a week ago it was as if she were a marionette, a set of strings in someone else’s hands metaphorically controlling her every move while she gave up all power. Whether it was not being able to text him past a certain time, or call him in the mornings just to say hi, most definitely not showing up anywhere him and his wife may be, there wouldn’t be any of it. Now on the other hand, with the control semi within her own reach, she found herself a bit petrified. From the spot beneath the supervised strings there was somehow less to lose, and while it may have been unbeknown to Alessia, it came down to the fact that Isaac was never really hers to lose. For the first time he did feel like hers, as much as another person could be anyway, and that made the loss at stake that much worse. And here she was guilelessly falling to depths she didn’t know existed. The corners of pink lips turned upside down, a faux pout replacing the whimsy smile as he told her her idea was shit. It’s only a moment before he redeems himself, and she bites at her lip to hold back the smirk that wants to be there. Somewhere really obvious, so before someone else tries to get with you they have to stop first and ask what it stands for. And then I can ruin the moment from wherever I am, she jokes, the idea getting her too excited so she tries her best not to genuinely entertain it. But the idea actually isn’t bad.. feelings of possessiveness she felt she never had a right to say aloud before feeling good to get off of her chest. But not tomorrow, you wanted to get rid of me, remember? She nudges his side, inwardly glad to be holding it against him now. This girl’s going to be on a beach at an undisclosed location until further notice! With her body pulled even closer to his she shuts her eyes, actually comfortable in every sense of the word. She longingly held on to him like a safety net, tight to the point of question, as if his arms put her in a place where nothing else could touch her and a headspace where nothing else mattered. After a moment of his own thoughts she finds herself overwhelmed with affection, ecstatic that the answer fell more in line with one she would want to hear versus one she wouldn’t. She’s unquestioning about it, especially as he lifts her head and her eyes find his again, lost in bloodshot blues as if she were searching for them. If it was a doubt, she wasn’t going to find it. Even when it was all said and done, Isaac hadn’t lost any credibility. The fact that he could have lied to someone else meaning absolutely nothing to her. I love you so much it’s not normal. She leans down to kiss him again, never getting enough of the man, her hips pressing into his and her hand falling to the spot above his own beating heart. Clinging to him was an understatement, to the point of which she had to pry herself away and straddle herself on top of him, a backwards attempt at unnecessary self restraint. Fingertips drag from his chest to the V at his hips, resting comfortably there, I was so scared you were going to be a wreck, but if this is you as a wreck I kind of like it. .................... ---notes: but a beautiful cliche ---music: silence.

[isaac mcavoy]

Tiredness made Isaac's body ache, the glee of seeing Alessia having momentarily delayed the comedown he could now feel coming on. Had she not shown up he'd have spent his evening getting stoned and probably downing a few beers, his usual routine of counteracting uppers with downers was one that kept him going but ultimately made him flaky and very rarely wholly sober. Stoking his fingertips up and down her arm, he realized how numb they were. "Yeah? Were you thinking dick, or somewhere earlier on in the process? Maybe my face?" he grinned, eyebrow raised. Joking as he was, it didn't mean that he wasn't serious about the tattoo - in fact, he was probably as eager as she was for his skin to be branded hers. "Though I've gotta say, most people won't assume that 'AA' stands for a person." Ironic, really, that those should be her initials. Ignoring this small reminder of his argument with Joe, Isaac's addictive personality meant that his relationship with Alessia was more like an addiction than something healthy and mutually beneficial. Speaking of addiction, realizing how long it had been since his last cigarette (maybe twenty minutes), Isaac's cravings took hold. Kissing her again, he threaded a golden strand of hair behind her ear, before nudging her gently. "Sorry baby, need a smoke." Getting up and reaching over for the pack of Lucky Strikes that sat faithfully by his bed, he shook one out before offering her the box. "Want one? We shouldn't really smoke inside but fuck it, Chloe's not here to castrate me." He picked up the box of matches and struck one, lighting the cigarette and taking a deep inhale. Immediately he felt calmer. "Anyway," he started, pulling her up into his lap and pushing her hair to one side so that he could kiss her neck, "what about you? I think you should definitely be getting my name tattooed somewhere. You'd suit a neckpiece." A frown crossed his features when she reminded him of her trip. "Oh yeah. Where are you going again? Just you and Kendra, right?" Uneasiness crept into his tone of voice, jealousy seizing hold at the thought of her potentially frolicking around a beach, bikini clad and surrounded by fraternity douchebags. He regretted encouraging her to go. And then she tells him that she loves him and he feels guilty for distrusting her, however fleetingly, especially after all they'd been through. If there was one thing he'd credit the girl with, it was honesty. If anything, he didn't think she could lie to him if she tried. "If this means we're not normal then it's a price I'll happily pay." Collapsing back onto the bed, a sly grin creeps across his face as she straddles him, one hand resting on one of her thighs as the other raises the cigarette to his lips. Her words send a spark of excitement through the man, who'd previously worked hard to prevent himself from seeming too much of a wreck around her... though he wouldn't go from nought to a hundred straight away, this felt like an encouraging step. Tentatively, he glanced away from her, forcing himself to sound casual. "Hey, if you fancied it I've still got a gram going spare? Might be fun to do some together. No pressure, obviously." .................... --- notes: ok this was genuinely my worst i am so sorry! --- music: don't tell the bride.

[alessia alves]

If Isaac was beginning to feel any differently, Alessia had no idea. Innocently she still saw the world through rose tinted glasses, especially when it came to looking at someone she loved. It was probably why she’d never noticed any problems in the man before, only ever finding his imperfections perfect in the most beautiful ways. He could do no wrong. Tilting her head to one side she’s putting nonexistent acting skills to use, playing it off like she just can’t decide. A light laugh escapes her at the misleading initials. Just Alessia, then? She offers. I think they’ll get the picture. Straight across your forehead, the goal is that they won’t make it that far. It might be too late otherwise. God forbid. The blondes lithe frame pulls from his as he reaches around her, her head shaking from side to side when he offers her a cigarette. A vice of his she’s never minded, oddly enjoying the scent of tobacco mixed with his cologne. I’m good. If there was one piece of advice she’d taken from her mother it was not to make smoking a habit, even if only to avoid the wrinkles and early aging brought on by the cancer sticks. The extent of her smoking usually social while drinking, or when creative direction called for the good old cigarette props. However, the sound of Isaac saying Chloe’s name aloud knitted a knot in her stomach, and she goes back on her word. Pulling the cigarette perched between his fingertips into her own as if it could calm her nerves too she takes a baby drag. Rings of smoke exiting pursed lips in his direction. No avail, and she’s handing the cigarette back. Mmm, she ponders aloud, remembering how the conversation even came about. We already decided! I’m getting your autograph on my boobs. My agent might kill me, but what does he know? It’s actually the only con she could come up with in regards to his name permanently etched into her skin. We’re just going to St. Thomas real quick, she ignores the second half of the question, for no reason in particular. Never one to turn a vacation down, she’s suddenly dreading it, stressed and overwhelmed with the past week and fashion week obligations that were quickly approaching. Don’t worry, I’ll be thinking about you nonstop. A proud smirk lays into her features as she senses something that sounds like regret at pushing her to go in his tone of voice, and she kisses him reassuringly. We’re not, definitely not, she affirmed. Why play it by the books when whatever this was was that much more real? The thought only interrupted when Isaac poses a question that stops her in her tracks. What? She asks, genuinely not understanding the offer at hand, after a moment though his words click. Oooh. Caught off guard and a bit on the spot she doesn’t answer immediately, a million thoughts now rushing through her head. Is this what Joseph meant? Did this mean he really did need rehab? Did he have a problem? She couldn’t have missed a problem all of this time.. Why did he want to try it with her? Would it be special? No, he couldn’t have a problem. It would just be fun. I mean I was hoping you’d sober up and fuck me.. she was, but she’d by lying if she said a part of her wasn’t curious. But yea, let’s do it. .................... ---notes: idk what this is but i am sorry. ---music: silence.