bythestars Jul 4th, 2019 (edited) 74 Never
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  1. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦β€‹πŸ‡±β€‹   but finds a vacant spot on the campus lawn with a view of the night-sky, most students going to the stadium or roof. There were a few parties about after the fireworks, unsure yet if that will be a thing. Unrolls a blanket before plopping down to light a joint.
  3. Jude    walked just behind Cal, and approached her, closer, the moment she had plopped down. "Not much of a party girl, are you?" Making his presence known.
  5. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦β€‹πŸ‡±β€‹   glanced upwards, as a deep inhale was taken. Fingers rubbing at the side of neck that still felt a little tender. "I like a good party," after exhaling, and extending the joint to him. Assuming that he was going to join her. "..I just also like fireworks," noncommittal shrug given.
  7. Jude    made his way down to sit next to her, legs outstretched across the blanket. One leg immediately curled up, knees pointed to the sky. "Anyone ever tell you you're so hard to read sometimes?" Accepted the extended joint. "Never took you to like the scenic stuff."
  9. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦β€‹πŸ‡±β€‹   studied Jude with a raised brow as he joins her, a bit close in proximity given the blanket wasn't all that large. A smirk favoring lips, "Are you saying that I am in a different language that needs to be translated? Or you have to reread the chapter to see if you comprehend the meaning?" Watched as his fingers took the offered joint, "Contrary to popular belief, I don't hate everything."
  11. Jude    "I'm saying you surprise me a lot." Took a long inhale from the joint before passing back over to it's original owner. Rolled to her side slightly, if only to allow his frame to face her. Propped the side of his head against an open palm, elbow resting on the floor. "Like an unsuspecting plot twist." Eyes scanned over her features, even as she'd take the weed back from him. "You hate a lot of things though."
  13. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦β€‹πŸ‡±β€‹   wasn't aware just how much Jude paid attention in order to be surprised, figured he took everything in stride without batting an eyelash. Fingers brushing his as joint was returned, and she'd slowly recline onto her back. Cal didn't want to develop a neck spasm if she was forced to sit staring upwards the whole time. "Just keeping you on your toes then," taking another hit, gaze returning to his face as it seemed to loom over her. "That's fair. I do hate a lot of things," for a moment it looked like she was going to say something more, but she didn't.
  15. Jude    "Well, if it makes you feel any better, it's a shitty plot twist." Maybe sometimes Jude took things in stride. But Cal made it increasingly hard to do so sometimes. Mostly because he figured that there was more to her than she was willing to let on. And that intrigue is what sparks the motivation. "I'm interested--" He was, genuinely. Even if the smile on his face might've implied otherwise. "--what things do you hate, Cinderella? Oh, let me guess." Twisted, allowing him to point towards the sky once more, head leaving the open palm for the moment. "Your evil sisters?"
  17. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦β€‹πŸ‡±β€‹   there was a lot that Cal didn't feel up to sharing about herself, as the weight of it would kill whatever sort of relationship she had with another person before it even began to develop. So it was easier to entertain the notion of a friendship for a few weeks or months before her issues got in the way. At least then she had some minor fond memories. A roll of eyes was given as he indicated for her to name some things that she hated, even as the joint was offered to his lips if only so he'd shut up. "That would be a bit cliche," and she didn't have any to her knowledge. "I hate gum stuck on the bottom of my shoe or a chair, it's gross," picking the easiest to start.
  19. Jude    There was a lot the people wouldn't share to anyone. And that's because they were all afraid of what others might think, that their perception of them would change. It wasn't just her who was stuck in that situation. A lot of people were. "Your whole life is a cliche." Rested his back on the blanket, curling one arm underneath his head. "I'm kidding, I think you're weird, and not at all like everyone else." Sometimes that was actually a good thing. Allowed the joint to be pressed against his lips. He was immediately shutted up. Pulled it away. Blew smoke at her face. "Really? Huh. I guess it would suck to have gum on you glass shoe, Cinderelly" Shoved his hands in his pockets. "Okay, well--" Turned his head to face her. "--I hate when..." Propped the joint between her lips. "--I run out of weed."
  21. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦β€‹πŸ‡±β€‹   hazel widened just a fraction when Jude called her weird, but seemed to have no problem with that tidbit. It was as if he was strolling the crooked invisible line or what was acceptable versus what was not, stumbling a bit now and then over a loose stone but not at all detoured from his goal. But what was his goal? Lips twitched into a smile as his warm breath was expelled to breathe intoxicating smoke into her face, prompting a light cough even as he teased her. A shake was given of head as mouth was eager for the brush of his fingertips when presenting joint for another hit. Mmm. It gradually seemed smoother, or her head was just slowly rising above the noise that usually occupied it. "I hate when people are late and don't say anything prior to, just leaving you sitting there like some sort of Jackass," it really was her biggest pet peeve.
  23. Jude    Maybe he adored having his lips brush against her lips, but he wouldn't act on it. Instead, he'd leave the vicinity of her lips in place of his sides, even as head turned once more to gaze at the sky above them, awaiting for the fireworks to start. His leather jacket, and his jeans seemed to near compliment the clothes of choice that she decided to wear. "That's happened to me once or twice before. It's not really as bad as you think. Just as long you know what to do with yourself." But it was always easier said than done, wasn't it? "I hate it when people tell me what I have to do with my own life. You know?" Swiveled where he lay, the entirety of his side resting on the blanket, head propped on an open palm. "You ever get that feeling? Like you just want to tell people to--" Used his other hand to simulate a poke with a very long stick. "--to shove it?"
  25. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦β€‹πŸ‡±β€‹   moist tiers cradled the lip of joint as he seemed to be restless, unsure if he wanted to sit up or sprawl out as she was. Apparently way too aware like herself of their surroundings for the time being, as the sky gradually grew darker. Cal had opted for a skirt that evening, a ripped dark denim number that flirted indecently with upper thighs as it showed off shapely long legs clad in black fishnets. The white t-shirt she wore was near transparent in it's thin quality, as bra beneath was a vibrant blue in shade. The fabric of shirt slashed across breasts as if clawed by a tiger. The trademark black leather jacket in attendance, and set the pair of them apart from anyone else. The conversation seemed to grow more serious, as Jude shifted onto his side to look down at her. "All the time," a murmured agreement, as joint was plucked away. "I don't hate you though," the admittance was abrupt and unbidden. And judging by the widening of her eyes, Cal was aware she had said it aloud. Well shit. Damage control time. Leaning upwards with the support of elbows, mouth angled against his in a kiss. Firm and hopefully hiding the desperation of the action. After a minute or two, she'd pull back to breathe. "Don't tell anyone," immediately placing the joint to his lips.
  27. Jude      It seemed that eventually, even the sun wanted out of the conversation. It wanted to dip, and be replaced by the subtle glow of the moon. Only a few sources of light gave them proper vision now, the small spark of the joint being one of them. Crawled closer towards her. "All the time?" Where at least there was proof that sometimes the two of them could see eye to eye. That not all the time when they were together, it always meant having to have drugs to connect them. Maybe with the few short sharings that they had, Jude actually felt like a normal fucking human. And there was a hope inside of him, that she felt the same way. "Oh really, I know you never actually hated m--" Was silenced by the sudden kiss to his lips. Jude didn't move. He simply let them happen. "I-- I won't." He's kissed her before. Sexually. Hungrily. Like he craved her with every waking moment that he had. But this kiss? This kiss was different. It was almost as if-- Jude had to check the sky. Because as far as he was concerned there weren't any fireworks yes. But why did his hear beat like there was? A solemn hand was pressed against his chest, as if to check for a beat. Seeing as it's his turn to share; "I hate that-- that I don't know your name." Leaned to press another kiss against her lips, this time coming from him. And this time? Actual fireworks.
  29. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦πŸ‡±β€‹      ​the never-ending confidence was both irritating and attractive, the combination driving her crazy. Cal didn't know if she wanted to kiss or punch him. But if she was being a hundred percent honest in that moment, it was a good blend of both, possibly more the former. Gaze searched Jude's face, a part of her afraid of what she'd find there. Potentially rejection, possibly acceptance. Which was worse? Hand that held joint to his mouth lowered to distractedly rub out the burning cherry into the dirt. And of all the stupid lines or follow-ups in the world, Jude had to go with something as simple and wonderful as wanting her name. As they kissed again, hand came to cup the back of his neck, allowing deft fingers to entangle in his hair and draw him closer. Blonde head shifting on blanket to favor a tilt, and permit the deepening of kiss as tongues met eagerly for the first time they were considered to be sober enough to make bad decisions on their own. The world around them thundering, with explosion of fireworks, to rival the thundering of her heart. When there was a small break, however, teeth playing tug-of-war with his bottom lip as she didn't want to let him go. "Calliope," murmuring in a near aggressive manner. But when wasn't she near feral with her words? Even at a relaxed stage. All too soon dragging him back into the cradle of lips and the adoration of tongue, eyes closing as she lost herself in the warmth that he conjured in her chest and wanting to hold onto it as long as possible.
  31. Jude      If the confidence he showed was irritating and attractive, the lack of care she usually didn't show was disheartening. But Jude didn't care. Much. or at all, even. Because he wasn't interested in her body, nor was he interested in just taking her for as much as he could. Sure, perhaps at first, upon their chance meeting it was a matter of him just wanting to share a smoke with anyone who he would happen upon. But shamefully, yet thankfully, with every letter she gave him of his name, he slowly cared more and more about knowing the person that she was, rather than the person he wanted her to be. Which is how most people seemed to approach her. Let her attitude be damned. It's the way she was. And Jude couldn't pretend and say that he didn't come without his faults. Because he did. And God fuck him if he thought that he was perfect. Was in the middle of taking in her scent when the fireworks came on. Hands pressed firmly against the blanket, his body halfway atop the female. A few more kisses given, each with it's own special flair. From tugging at lips to puckering, softening his tiers further. But when she had uttered her name, he felt as if his heart had sunk. And while yes, there were still fireworks thundering across the skies. It also felt as if it had stopped. Calliope. Why was it so beautiful? Like the name fit the face so perfectly? Like he could say it as much times as he wanted without feeling the slightest bit of remorse for it? "That's such a stupid fucking name." He whispered, pampering her lips once more with kisses, hand finding a home upon her thigh, raising it to his waist. "Jude." A soft tone was given, allowing it to trail, even meld with the sounds of fireworks. "My name's Jude." Finally, his body was atop of her's, kissing. Nothing more than that, while the lights went on, and off, and on, and off, in an unpredictable pattern. And the kisses the he gave her, stopped being peppered, in place of being made to feel as if the lock was permanent.
  33. πŸ‡¨β€‹πŸ‡¦πŸ‡±β€‹      an act of desperation and carelessness is what brought Cal to the Brew that night, a soul that was so desperate and alone it sought fulfillment in the form of coffee -- if only for the brief mumbling exchange with another human being to place an order. As it was, it wasn't coffee that was acquired that night but a joint with a stranger. An individual that seemed as hungry for a connection as herself, if not more obvious with the method to remedy the situation. But despite her standoffish attitude, to prevent another from falling under what bizarre siren song she seemed to be within possession of in the last couple of weeks. It was Cal that softened towards the grand and laughable gesture to acquire the letters of her name, instead of the traditional course of asking her. The gravitation to one another to share weed or beer. Jude annoyed her as no one else did, and yet she didn't tell him to fuck off. Instead she was arguably welcome to his presence, swapping numbers and eventually saliva in the dim lighting of her room. Fingers chasing over naked flesh to discover every awful curve and edge of their forms, as they bent and broke when attempting to shove themselves together into a single entity. Cal bore the reminders of his addictive touch on skin like a brand, prompting flashes of memory when grazed that only sparked a hunger within that didn't seem to be sated by anything other than his mouth on hers. She melted in the embrace, opposite hand catching on his ribs beneath the jacket but over cotton. "I hate it," in-between kisses, as a throaty chuckle practically purred from throat, which is why she preferred just Cal. But she didn't truly. It just felt like a name worthy of a mermaid or princess, neither of which would ever be her. She was too damaged and ugly to be so carefree. "Jude?" breathing in his name, with the same sensation as an inhale of nicotine or pot. "..Jude," exhaling in near benediction, as their mouths crashed together like a meteor to the moon's surface. Legs parted to permit the slip of his hips between thighs, not caring where they were, or who may be watching.
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