Own Post - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

NEW BEGINNING EACH MONTH

.

Promises were broken. Her heart sank. The whispers only got worse with time. There was no cure for a madwoman. That much was widely known. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling from her bones.

The visions still plagued Akirah nightly. She knew it by heart, expected it the moment she shut her eyes. A man made of ice. His translucent skin. His terrifying grin. And his... Oddly loving eyes.

In these dreams, he would smile at her. Say her name with a certainty nobody else had. Her pot burst.

She yelped in pain, clutching her bleeding palm. "Irerius," she muttered, wincing. She felt slightly dizzy.

A cold hand clasped hers, soothing her burning skin. She looked up, her eyes watery. "Darling, what do you do to yourself," the man from her visions sighed.

She stared at him, mind hazy. "I wasn't paying attention."

He pursed his lips. "Visions again?" he pushed gently. She nodded. "Very well. It is a new month after all," he said nonchalantly. Tears fogged his eyes but he swallowed. She tilted her head at him.

"Who... Who are you?" she asked suddenly. Her wounded hand trembled.

He spared her a sorrowful glance. "I'm Irerius, my love. And I promise to take care of you."

Her heart pounded, yet she couldn't help but smile giddily. "Are you going to marry me?" she giggled.

"A million times if I need to," he assured lovingly. The man of ice and the madwoman paid no mind to the pictures hung about their home.

He wouldn't say they already married a year ago. He wouldn't say she was cursed to forget him. All he'd say is that he loved her. And deep down, he knew the madwoman loved him as much.

Writing prompt from @arina_writes on tiktok <3

Hope to see you soon, but not really

.

The music in a dancer's head never stops. Adya's never did, at least. Why would it? Why would she be ashamed of the vibrance that flowed through her like blood?

The dusty record shop on 5th Avenue reminded her of it. The dim lighting, wilted shelves, and ancient cashier were all lessons in the immortality of true passion.

Peace was too harsh of a word for a feeling so tender. Until the store bell rang.

The hair on her arms stood and she tensed instinctively in the silence. His thundering footsteps were hard to mistake.

"Hey, Addy." She turned. He offered a lopsided, quiet grin.

"Salem," she replied. Her heart sank. She wasn't sure which feeling would hurt more, sadness or anger.

"So... You still collect these things?" he asked awkwardly, gesturing to the boxes of discarded vinyls.

"I don't see why else I'd be here," she said pointedly. He flinched. "Unless you think I'd be fond of running into you?"

"I'd hope so?"

"That's unfortunate. I'm afraid you've become delusional."

He sighed, running his hand through his greasy, black hair. "Adya, I'm sorry. I know I messed up."

"Messed up? Is that it?" she laughed bitterly. "I trusted you and you used that trust to hit me where it hurt most."

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have done that but--"

"But what? Salem, just because all your high and mighty friends turned out to be frauds, doesn't mean you get to waltz back into my life like nothing happened!" she snapped. Her voice echoed in the empty shop. The cashier snored louder.

His face fell. "I just miss you. Miss what we had. Our friendship," he murmured pleadingly.

She snorted. "I knew you would eventually. I'm glad you're sorry. And I hope you find yourself good friends again. But you're not going to find it in me."

"Adya..."

"No. A sorry is never going to atone for the toll your words took on my life. A sorry isn't going to fix anything, Salem," she spat, jaw clenched.

"I hope to see you around, but I hope I never recognize you when I do."

"Adya, stop! Please!" he cried, reaching for her.

But she already slipped away. She was already out the door. And all he could do was stare as the best part of his life left him alone.

Writing prompt from @arina_writes on tiktok BTW ❤️

Hope to see you soon, but not really

.

The music in a dancer's head never stops. Adya's never did, at least. Why would it? Why would she be ashamed of the vibrance that flowed through her like blood?

The dusty record shop on 5th Avenue reminded her of it. The dim lighting, wilted shelves, and ancient cashier were all lessons in the immortality of true passion.

Peace was too harsh of a word for a feeling so tender. Until the store bell rang.

The hair on her arms stood and she tensed instinctively in the silence. His thundering footsteps were hard to mistake.

"Hey, Addy." She turned. He offered a lopsided, quiet grin.

"Salem," she replied. Her heart sank. She wasn't sure which feeling would hurt more, sadness or anger.

"So... You still collect these things?" he asked awkwardly, gesturing to the boxes of discarded vinyls.

"I don't see why else I'd be here," she said pointedly. He flinched. "Unless you think I'd be fond of running into you?"

"I'd hope so?"

"That's unfortunate. I'm afraid you've become delusional."

He sighed, running his hand through his greasy, black hair. "Adya, I'm sorry. I know I messed up."

"Messed up? Is that it?" she laughed bitterly. "I trusted you and you used that trust to hit me where it hurt most."

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have done that but--"

"But what? Salem, just because all your high and mighty friends turned out to be frauds, doesn't mean you get to waltz back into my life like nothing happened!" she snapped. Her voice echoed in the empty shop. The cashier snored louder.

His face fell. "I just miss you. Miss what we had. Our friendship," he murmured pleadingly.

She snorted. "I knew you would eventually. I'm glad you're sorry. And I hope you find yourself good friends again. But you're not going to find it in me."

"Adya..."

"No. A sorry is never going to atone for the toll your words took on my life. A sorry isn't going to fix anything, Salem," she spat, jaw clenched.

"I hope to see you around, but I hope I never recognize you when I do."

"Adya, stop! Please!" he cried, reaching for her.

But she already slipped away. She was already out the door. And all he could do was stare as the best part of his life left him alone.

Writing prompt from @arina_writes on tiktok BTW ❤️

Hope to see you soon, but not really

.

The music in a dancer's head never stops. Adya's never did, at least. Why would it? Why would she be ashamed of the vibrance that flowed through her like blood?

The dusty record shop on 5th Avenue reminded her of it. The dim lighting, wilted shelves, and ancient cashier were all lessons in the immortality of true passion.

Peace was too harsh of a word for a feeling so tender. Until the store bell rang.

The hair on her arms stood and she tensed instinctively in the silence. His thundering footsteps were hard to mistake.

"Hey, Addy." She turned. He offered a lopsided, quiet grin.

"Salem," she replied. Her heart sank. She wasn't sure which feeling would hurt more, sadness or anger.

"So... You still collect these things?" he asked awkwardly, gesturing to the boxes of discarded vinyls.

"I don't see why else I'd be here," she said pointedly. He flinched. "Unless you think I'd be fond of running into you?"

"I'd hope so?"

"That's unfortunate. I'm afraid you've become delusional."

He sighed, running his hand through his greasy, black hair. "Adya, I'm sorry. I know I messed up."

"Messed up? Is that it?" she laughed bitterly. "I trusted you and you used that trust to hit me where it hurt most."

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have done that but--"

"But what? Salem, just because all your high and mighty friends turned out to be frauds, doesn't mean you get to waltz back into my life like nothing happened!" she snapped. Her voice echoed in the empty shop. The cashier snored louder.

His face fell. "I just miss you. Miss what we had. Our friendship," he murmured pleadingly.

She snorted. "I knew you would eventually. I'm glad you're sorry. And I hope you find yourself good friends again. But you're not going to find it in me."

"Adya..."

"No. A sorry is never going to atone for the toll your words took on my life. A sorry isn't going to fix anything, Salem," she spat, jaw clenched.

"I hope to see you around, but I hope I never recognize you when I do."

"Adya, stop! Please!" he cried, reaching for her.

But she already slipped away. She was already out the door. And all he could do was stare as the best part of his life left him alone.

Writing prompt from @arina_writes on tiktok BTW ❤️

Is anyone else so angry at themself for all the time you've wasted not being yourself? I'm looking back to my days of perfectionism and academic validation, and I'm so pissed that I let myself go so low to just feel important. I've always been important. And it sucks that I took so long to figure it out.

Is anyone else so angry at themself for all the time you've wasted not being yourself? I'm looking back to my days of perfectionism and academic validation, and I'm so pissed that I let myself go so low to just feel important. I've always been important. And it sucks that I took so long to figure it out.

- probablyintenseomens