the storm.

[matty olson]

[matty olson]

<sup>matty had been awake for twenty seven hours which, in all honesty, was quite fucking fantastic. his sleep patterns had found themselves to be unpredictable as of late; jumping between time zones as a child would squares on hopscotch, he found sleep a luxury and one that he often passed on. there was just way too much to see, the world was just way too exciting; and the thought of spending wasted minutes, even hours in a state of slumber was shameful to him. high off his second wave, the feeling of euphoria that was flowing through his veins as he walked in the amsterdam night had him loving life- but then again, this elated state of consciousness was something always present with matty, who was easily impressed. the world he was in was so completely different from any other. it was his first time being in europe as an adult, although he'd cruised through it and spoken of it like it was a casual thing.

his sneakers clicked along the narrow roads. seriously; he could live in this. a long time coming had matty's hatred for american architecture manifested in his soul derived from hours upon hours spent inside ugly ass rooms, and everything in europe was beautiful, including the women. especially the woman. one woman imparticular, and the thought of her made him pick up his already fast pace. a vodka and red-bull down, the sun only just set, he was more than willing to sit with her for an hour or so while she got ready for work. with both their schedules being incredibly hectic, any amount of time spent with felice found itself worth it. it was exciting, and he was excited; the elated smile on his face gave himself away. tonight he was going to get lost in the city, like he sometimes had in new york. it was overwhelmingly inspiring as is, but with a few more drinks and some music from his ipod; he was going to be seeing stars. probably quite literally. he found himself at the entrance to her hotel in a quick moment, not minding the fifteen minute walk. it gave him a chance to get out into the world, and also he thought getting a room in the same hotel as her would come off as a little creepy.

he knew where he was going. the halls smelled of familiarity lingered in the hallways as he wandered through, until reaching her room. fingers went to his wallet, searching through the array to find a room key she'd given him fifteen days ago. quietly, he clicked open the door. inside her hotel room, music was playing. he was careful to keep quiet, seeing her in the corner of her room looking in a small mirror. almost certainly putting on make up, he crept carefully behind her. making just enough noise to alert her of his presence, he ducked down to her level. "hey" he said quietly, one hand resting on her shoulder and another decking down to her leg, finding balance between the two. his face next to hers, the two of them appeared in the mirror. "you look fantastic, felice." he stated abruptly, before placing a hasty kiss on her cheek. "you better take some of that shit off. i mean you really look too good for employment."</sup>

[/color][/font][/i][/size] felice.
wardrobe,[/i][/size] wearing the glasses at night, no doubt.
music,[/i][/size] taking back sunday , a decade under the influence .
notes,[/i][/size] credit to melissa for the format. [/ul]
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[felice dorsé]

-----PERFECTLY manicured fingers traced circles around the rim of the ever familiar wine glass. 9:58pm and felice was already on glass three, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, if she had not just woke from her slumbers a mere hour before. if there was one thing she was never going to get used to, it was this. sleeping all day, and working all night, six nights a week, leaving practically no time for self relaxation or even a viable social life. but she only had herself to blame, she’d upped and left a family that took her in, paid for schooling and housing, along with everything in between to make a life of her own. and while that life was not what she had always envisioned for herself, it was life where she felt like she was not a charity case mooching off of a families money just because she had once dated their son. it was something her father would not be proud of, but in her one dimensional mind, it was her last resort. and at the thought of that alone, she was downing what was left of the wine in her glass, and pouring another one.

-----RIDDING her mind of the dominant precarious thoughts she fully threw herself into getting ready for a night of work she was by no means up for. dipping the edge of the eyeliner brush into the shimmery black liquid, she pulled her eyelid of to the side tightly, tracing a perfect cat-line to the upper lid, and did the same to the next instantly after. looking in the mirror there was only one thing that was missing; the lipstick that put her fully into role. while it may have been a single layer of the crimson shade dully plastered against her thin lips, it was that last key in getting into character. because that is what her job had amounted to, getting into a character she could embody each night. if she was someone else, it was easy to forget the morals she had clung to for so long. she could be polly adler, laura bell, even bébinn- glorifying a job that the dominant population considered crude, distasteful, and irrelevant. considering it something that was accepted by social means. pulling the curlers that had been set in her hair for the past hour, she doused her blonde locks with hair spray, and shook her head from side to side, letting them fall into something a bit less shirley temple. there was a long gaze at herself in the mirror, only it wasn’t admiration. it was shock, to say the least. that she had managed to turn her typically blonde and quotidian self, into a version of herself she had never seen before.

-----BUT between the music, the mirror, and the abundance of make up in front of her, none of it was there the second matty appeared in the room. it was as if the world stopped just for a single moment, and a smile played its way across her lips. “hi,

[/I]” she said, letting her slightly skeletal fingers trace over his hand that rested upon her leg. his musky scent so close only made her desire for him grow, and it was impossible to hide that as she let out a nervous laugh at his compliment, and felt the blood rush to her cheeks. she was used to compliments, yes. but the fact that relevant feelings were involved between the two made it different than the typical man on the street, “ don’t make me blush! [/I]” she cried so openly, thinking to herself that even she should have been somewhat weirded out by her level of comfort with him after knowing him such a short amount of time. lifting herself from the chair she’d been seated at, she made her way toward the rolling rack placed by the window, skimming through articles of clothing. “ sit down, [/I]” she told him over her shoulder, though she knew it wasn’t necessary. as he’d made himself comfortable on his own more times than just one. “ i don’t know what to wear, i don’t want to go... [/I]” she complained aloud as she picked and pulled random things from the rack. letting out a heavy sigh she returned to the boy, “ i just want to stay here with you, [/I]” she pouted before pressing her lips to his forehead, being sure to leave them there long enough for her lipstick to stain his forehead.

---

----- STATUS finit!
----- MUSIC cocorosiee.
----- OUTFIT such a hooker.
----- NOTES i fail! <33
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[matty olson]

<sup>felice was endlessly fascinating; something to be said considering matty was no boring homebody. it was probably this singular fact that kept her so attracted to her. sure, she was gorgeous; but at the end of the day felice wasn't really his type looks wise. this was the reason he was able to control himself in her prescence, especially with what she was wearing at the moment. "can you cover up for a minute?" matty asked her, before sitting down on her bed. "i'm not trying to be a dick about it, you're just going to give me a heart attack." as soon as she put on a bathrobe, he was much more at ease. he was the type that liked things left to to the imagination.

matty admittidly had poor taste in all things that weren't art; most visibly, women. his slew of ex-girlfriends consisted of cheaters, and drug addicts that worked part time as groupies and sold stories to the paparazzi for coke. however, he was trusting and went with his extinct, and every mistake he'd ever made, he'd truly believed in at some point. watching her walk around the room grabbing things, getting ready in a hustle- he couldn't help but let a smile slip to his face. he took off his sweatshirt and sunglasses before standing up to meet her. "hey, i didn't come over here to watch your run around in this crazy negative night. you-" just as he said that, he felt her lips against his forhead in a kiss that instatnly reminded him of his mother. the lip stick stain that remained on his head seemed simply "unnessicary! but anyways, you're going to have a great night work. and i'm going to have a fucking fantastic night off. until then though, come here for a minute."

with that he laced his fingers in hers, feeling the warth encompass them. taking a step back towards the bed, he layed back down pulling her betwen his legs and leaning against the head board. casually, his arms wrapped around her waist. he could understand her hesitation to want to leave him; it was something he'd felt since the very moment he'd left her, and thankfully, she hadn't found it too strange that he continued to see her so feverently. his chin became burried in her neck as he closed his eyes for just a moment. breathing in, she smelled sweet and felt right, and he kissed her on the neck. "i missed you." he stated simply, in a moment that wasn't quite strange, nor normal for the two. between felice and matty lied a careful divide of actions; those that were and were not acceptable. felice was often a maze of curiosity; which way would she act, which way would she step, and matty was an open book- almost. she'd expressed her almost distaste for men, but matty felt as if that was something she almost had to say, a default mechanism in the vault that held her heart.</sup>

[/color][/font][/i][/size] felice.
wardrobe,[/i][/size] wearing the glasses at night, no doubt.
music,[/i][/size] nothinggg.
notes,[/i][/size] fruiefjmkerdm! [/ul]
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[felice dorsé]

-----IN past times, male attention was something that made felice feel particularly uneasy. it was rare that she would walk around wearing any sort of revealing outfit, much less what she had on now. but somewhere within the term of the past year, her sexuality was something that she refused to let go unnoticed any longer. it took awhile for her to come to terms with it, but alas, in this moment, those terms had been met and she could not quite understand the obvious uneasiness that seemed to be passed onto matty. it had only been an hour ago that he was displeased with her newfound celibacy, wouldn’t he be enjoying this? “you forgot to mention that you are partially bipolar,

[/I]” she quickly retorted with as she put on her bathrobe.

-----THERE was a certain part of her that felt offended, considering she had never really met a guy who told her to put her clothes back on. but that was the exact same reason she found a bit of comfort in it all, as far as she could tell, matty was not the typical boy relishing in a girl having close to nothing on. there was one upside of this amsterdam rendezvous, and it was him. she could get used to the long nights of work, with men she typically couldn’t help but be repulsed by, knowing that she would see him in a few days tops. it wasn’t that she was dependent on the boy, but dependent on his habitual optimism that made everything appear not so bad. as he called her unnecessary she couldn’t help but laugh, “shhh, i wanted to leave my mark.[/I]” she said as if it were a justification, only to take her thumb to his forehead, wiping it away. “your nights are all off, what are you to do with this one?[/I]” she asked curiously, half envious that he was free to do whatever it was he pleased.

-----LETTING him lead her towards the bed, she couldn’t help but dread the night to come more and more with each moment. being swayed into the bed with the men of the night, when she could be with one she actually wanted to be with, not having to put on an act fueled by nonexistent sexual desire. although she had only heard that he missed her an hour before, she liked hearing in the second time much better. with him in person, within her presence and mostly within the comfort of her reach. “i missed this,[/I]” she replied, tracing circles over his arms that seemed to fit so well around her waist, practically memorizing every line, freckle, scar on his arms. “this is kind of weird though, have you thought about that?[/I]” she asked as she tilted her head to the side, catching a glimpse of him. her mind tracing back to the day they met, not even a full month ago. there as no part of her that minded it, and she was sure he was the same. but there was something so special about it that she refused to let go unsaid.

---

----- STATUS finit!
----- MUSIC cocorosiee.
----- OUTFIT such a hooker.
----- NOTES i fail! <33
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[matty olson]

<sup>"not bipolar. in fact, i'm in great mental health!" his smile was bright and god, she was so warm. the heat radiated off of her really in his hands, up his arms, through his chest. an overly passionate person, he was ruminating in the moment. he scootched down the bed, getting more comfortable. he wished that just for a moment he could stop time; but that was the feeling he generally got when he was in the presence with felice, and it'd been present since the very moment he'd met her all those days ago. however now, it seemed as if there was a sort of time stamp on their relationship. his european tour only lasted for ten more days, about a third of that time spent with felice- and sure, he could spend time with her after that, come visit, stay a few days- but their relationship remained undefined and he had no idea how to address the subject. they were neither friend nor girlfriend, neither here nor their; and while that was comfortable for now, that would not be comfortable forever.

"i'm going to have a life changing experience." he stated bluntly. in truth, this entire trip had been life-changing for matt. while he was certainly on the right track, he still found himself somewhat lost in life. there wasn't much success for an artist in the world, and he found himself comfortable in that. however, he did not find himself comfortable working a nine to five and possibly more for the rest of his life, and never having vacations, opportunities, and people like felice (although admittedly, no one was like felice) again. unfortunately, this negated the wishes of his father, and most likely his mother though she'd never say such a thing to her youngest son.

"i downloaded a few new albums so i'm probably go get a few drinks and then just walk around, see what i find." this probably wans't the best idea; while amsterdam had a sort of homey feel, it was still a city and matty was relatively sheltered, but he was naive and figured his personality was enough to win off any person that happened to try and mug him. "if you'd come with me we could go out to dinner, go dancing, find something to do- whatever you wanted to do" he asked hopefully, knowing fully that even if she agreed he'd never do such a thing. he'd gladly give her whatever money she'd make that night to spend a little time with him, but he got the vibe that she'd be terribly offended if he asked her. "i'm just kidding, anyways"</sup>

[/color]


[/font]

[/color][/font][/i][/size] felice.
wardrobe,[/i][/size] wearing the glasses at night, no doubt.
music,[/i][/size] taking back sunday , a decade under the influence .
notes,[/i][/size] credit to melissa for the format. [/ul]
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[felice dorsé]

-----”I wouldn’t go that far.. i don’t think you’re insane, but something’s not entirely right up there..

[/I]” she told him as her fingertips met his temples. it was in no way her way of telling him that he was insane, or anything of the sort. but it was her way of saying he was not someone so typical, at least not judging by the people she’d come in contact with before. the boys she had surrounded herself with before were nothing like matty, they were all whether into their sports or something equally as “masculine,” got off on starting fights in bars and hitting their friends just to prove how tough they thought they were. and while that was attractive when she was fifteen, it was a bit embarrassing and uncalled for at nineteen. it was almost abnormal to see a boy so content with just walking around a foreign city, listening to music, studying the architecture, but that was not to say she did not like it.

-----HALF enthused she asked him, “and what do you think that life changing experience is going to consist of?![/I]” if she knew him, she knew it could easily involve practically anything. as there was not much she would put past the blonde. and while she had liked to pride herself with a bit of spontaneity, it was obvious that matty outdid her on every level. never would she have traveled the world just to see art, and things she loved. her travels came from having no other option, being something of a last resort. this specific last resort though, amsterdam, was not as bad as she had thought it would be on the plane ride from france to here. she thought it would be a life full of all work and no play, not getting close with anyone for obvious reasons, and being a hermit for as long as it took to save up some solid money before returning home, or anywhere else she pleased. the fact that it hadn’t played out that way was almost like a gift from god.

-----”I could give you a thousand better albums,[/I]” she told him, cringing at the thought of the american music she’d heard there in her past year spent there. but as soon as he mentioned walking the city, she couldn’t help but let a nervous streak take over. there were plenty of reasons behind why she had not told him what her work actually involved. first, it was slightly embarrassing considering he had no reason to believe that this wasn’t something she had been doing her whole life. secondly, his opinion mattered, and she could only imagine how it could taint whatever it was he thought of her in the first place. and lastly, he would completely understand her “born again virginity.” how would she be able to sleep with someone she had feelings for while letting men she had absolutely no ties to have the same way with her night after night. “maybe you should go somewhere else though.. you’ve seen everything there is to see here, you know?[/I]” she told him in hopes of straying his travels elsewhere. and while she almost worried that that came off as a bit shady, she moved straight into his next ploy. “i don’t think i’d be making a good first impression calling off already, if only though.[/I]”

---

----- STATUS finit!
----- MUSIC cocorosiee.
----- OUTFIT such a hooker.
----- NOTES <33
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[matty olson]

<sup>"what are you talking about? i'm fantastic." he stated with sincerity, suddenly realizing just how tired he was. it would have been so simple, so amazingly easy to lay here all night, have a few glasses of wine, or maybe walk back to his hotel room and they could sit on the roof top and see the city from a whole new light. hell, see the girl in front of him in a whole new light if it was possible that she could shine any brighter. his fingers traced imaginary outlines across her arm, feeling a little depersonalized from the entire thing. was it really possible that he was living in reality and that this moment was in fact real? and in truth, matty sort of was fantastic; but he didn't know if he was fantastic for felice. the girls he'd dated in the past had been honestly, somewhat easy to impress. as rude as it sounded to say, he was often out of their league but matty rarely looked at things such as social stature and looks when it came to companions. first and formost was personality and all the things that went into creating it; it seemed as if people became more attractive once he knew the story of what made them.


"now i highly doubt that." he stated with a chuckle to follow. matty's music was highly untypical for a twenty-one year old living in manhattan. he was neither bohemian chic nor underground rock. you wouldn't really find him at the club scene, either. sure, he could tolerate certain people, but for the most part his music repertoire consisted of classical, naturally- the stuff he'd played with his mother and various piano teachers for hours upon hours on end, anything bob dylan, or on this night, some dub step. he took in her words passively. he was certain he could walk through the city a hundred times, a thousand times even and still see new things each and every time. besides, he needed to find some sort of inspiration. for what he had no idea, yet. "nah, with all that out there it's not right to pass it up." he chirped quietly before becoming jaded by the conversation. he was tired of talking about her job, whatever it might be- mostly because it meant leaving him, and that was no way to set off a good vibe for the night. little more could he do to deter her from leaving him tonight, but it wasn't the same to be said for the future.


"listen, felice-" he stated all too quickly, sitting up on the bed and walking around so he could face her. "i really, really don't want you to take this the wrong way, but you know. i think that if things keep going how they're going with us, however they're going with us- i think you should come back to new york with me." he felt sort of embarrassed about the whole situation. after all, who was he? granted, any fifteen year old girl that browsed perez hilton would say he was the end all and be all of dream men, but to felice he was sure he was a nobody. he had essentially nothing to offer her that wasn't tangible, and the fact that he was on a level playing feild with all the other men in the world made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.</sup>

[/color][/font][/i][/size] felice.
wardrobe,[/i][/size] wearing the glasses at night, no doubt.
music,[/i][/size] twilight zone, lolololol.
notes,[/i][/size] lalalalala. [/ul]
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[felice dorsé]

-----”no, i’m telling you.. something is not right,

[/I]” she began, meddling within the sheets for wherever he had tossed his glasses. “see these? [/I]” she asked as she finally found them, “you walked in with these on at ten at night, who does that?! [/I]” the tone in her voice painfully playful as she put the glasses on her own eyes and mocked his apparent need for them as he walked through the dark. “you can’t even see anything with these on, are they supposed to be some kind of statement? [/I]” and she was sure the answer to that would be a yes, given she had heard one too many times that people worthy enough of wearing sunglasses at night could, and should for that matter.

-----THIN eyebrows knitted in doubt as he deterred her statement. “so you’re telling me that miley cyrus is not your new album? [/I]” she asked with high hopes. though if she were being honest, miley cyrus was her musical guilty pleasure while in the states. along with many other things that she found embarrassing as soon as she had reached home. it was as if the different customs took a toll on who she was. she would do things she typically would not do, wear things she would not wear. in a sense, it left room for stepping outside the box. but again, that was something a new location did to the indesicive blonde whenever she got comfortable somewhere. while in new york, for instance, there was never a time she would feel comfortable walking the streets of the city alone at night. yet while in amsterdam, where she probably should have been more cautious and afraid- she was quite fine by her lonesome. “i mean it’s not all that big, or great.. [/I]” she said in retaliation, attempting to keep her tone flat, and not suspicious.

-----FELICE could rant and rave about how well she knew matty after only a few days like there was no tomorrow, but the change in the tone of his voice made her feel like it was a whole other person she was talking to. and it was not only his voice, but his movements of well. it was as if he went from being entirely all fun and games, to canny and serious. she moved up on the bed, resting her back where his was only moments before, and listened to the words seeping from his lips. blue eyes met her lap as they focused solely on her hands, that were playing with each other in an obvious uncomfortable form. she would be stupid not to go with him, yet at the same rate, she’d be stupid going back. it was a place she had finally just made her way out of, and going back with a boy, and being dependent on someone else yet again would just lead to a bit of history repeating. “i didn’t take anything in the wrong way.. [/I]” was all she could manage to spit out at first, though she knew it was not a viable response to his question, or even suggestion. there was a silence that filled the room before she conjured her next set of words. “there’s nothing i would like more than that.. [/I]” she told him reassuringly, the tone in her voice attempting to prove just how serious she was with her statement. “but i just got here, and i kind of like it, which i’m sure has to do with you.. but this is me, you know? i want to be everywhere, not back in new york. [/I]”

---

----- STATUS finit!
----- MUSIC cocorosiee.
----- OUTFIT such a hooker.
----- NOTES <33
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[matty olson]

<sup>"there were many reasons for matty's avid wear of sunglasses. the first he was most willing to tell people was that he desperately wanted to be bob dylan. the second was to pretend his eyes; always hypersensitive, the bright city lights didn't mesh well with his brain. the third was that it was his older brother, devlin's trade mark; and matty wanted desperately to fallow in his footsteps. however, he simply stat back bemused as felice played with his raybands. "oh god, you have to take them off. you look too sexy!" he exclaimed, living the way the black lenses framed her face perfectly. "i'm going to have to buy you a pair- maybe one in every color of the rainbow." overly giving, matty was almost always looking for opportunities to spread the wealth, he could tell that this made felice openly uncomfortable most of the time, but it didn't stop him from expressing his generous side so often; he wanted to take care of her, to spoil her; and just because she'd never had that in her life, or apparently enough, didn't mean he didn't want to be any less vocal about it.

his pleasant demeanor changed abruptly at the mention of miley cyrus. "no. absolutely not." he stated with no humor in his voice, leaving little room for further discussion. he'd decided long ago that if the day ever came that tween pop was the only thing on the radio, he could gladly put a gun to his head and pull the trigger. for her sake, he didn't want to get too into music. a fanatic at best, it was all too easy to get him going on the subject, and once that happened it was futile to hope he'd silence himself.

after he'd asked her to come back with him, he was immediately horrified by the look on her face. insecure to the end, matty always felt as if he was walking on eggshells with felice. the woman put zero pressure on him, and had so far accepted him for everything he was and everything he wasn't; but he felt as if he was constantly misjudging the situation because it was so undefined to either of them. he understood where he was coming from; her free spirit and can't be tamed attitude was half of what made her so irresistible to her. matty was a strong believer in fate and that what was meant to be, would be; and he found their entire meeting out of this world; quite literally. he was pretty sure he didn't believe in any sort of god or higher power, but it was sort of hard to ignore such divinity when two people at such different places in life could meet in such an unsuspecting way and hit it off as if they were- well, meant to be. "alright. " was all he stated simply, and with little emotion. he brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face. a deep and throaty sigh escaped his lips. he was caught in a sort of paradox; he neither wanted to pressure her into going with him, nor leave the conversation where it was.

"don't get mad at me..." he pleaded curiously as he brought his hand to her cheek. giving the soft skin a stroke, he shivered at her touch. his voice was soft and gentle, as was his touch and most things about him when she was around. their faces were inches apart. her blue eyes were chilling and so different from his own, a more ocean blue. he could have blamed his absent-minded state on their memorizing ability, but that would have been the easy way out. suddenly, his lips pressed against hers. up until that moment, time seemed to have been going in slow motion. but like an explosion, detonated by the combination of their two lips pressed together, he was thrown back into reality and this moment was bliss. her lips were soft and perfect and he knew his own were chapped and much less feminine, but she tasted amazing and this moment was perfect and it simply must not end. but it did, and he tore his lips from her own a shallow flush replacing his light pallor. it took him a few seconds to realize his eyes were still closed.</sup>

[/color][/font][/i][/size] felice.
wardrobe,[/i][/size] wearing the glasses at night, no doubt.
music,[/i][/size] twilight zone, lolololol.
notes,[/i][/size] lalalalala. [/ul]
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[felice dorsé]

-----IT was as if she was seven years old again. a childlike mind racing back to its young ways, making up fantasy like stories about the unknown. it was her mother all over again. one day, she was the princess of a palace in a far away land. the next, she was taking on a heroic role, tending to children in foreign countries, feeding them, teaching them. if she could play her mother out as some sort of martyr in a different way for nineteen years, she was capable of making up the more optimistic end of anything. and that right now, was applying to her relationship of some sort with matty. she could tell both him and herself that she would go to new york with him, but what good would that do. when she could dream of visiting every place she’d ever wanted to with him, learning new countries and subcultures instead of abiding by just one. they could do whatever they wanted, or so she thought until the slight strain was put on what they would do next. as the word ‘alright’ came out, she feared their once ethereal future was no good. true to being in girl form, the single worded answer never meant anything pretty, or pleasant. instead that words were being left behind, and what way was that to enter anything new? the silence filled the room for a mere moment, the only audible sounds coming from four stories down on the streets, the movement of their breath, before she mustered up the courage to break it. “say something else..

[/I]” she almost pleaded, desperation in her eyes, and she was sure it was written in every crevice of her face.

-----MERE moments later, the desperation shifted to him not saying another word. the ‘alright’ leading to a ‘don’t get mad at me’ leading her to believe that this was a turn for the worst. in the short open span of seconds her mind conjured the next message he as about to relay. maybe he was leaving, or he knew what her job was, maybe he had known all along at the end of the day, did she know him as well as she thought? she had written him off as nothing but perfect in her mind, perpetually flawless in every possible aspect. could that have only made matters worst? the one wrong move he made would be worst than practically anyone else’s, not because he owed her anything, but because after going so long doing no wrong, the one small fault could be a sad crash straight into reality. it was an endless train of thought- that could only be stopped by his next move. as his calloused hand grazed her cheek, it was almost instinctive to nestle into it. to savor the moment that only escalated the second his lips met hers, and a whole new stream of flutters rushed through her stomach. it wasn’t like the men she would kiss each night, nothing at all. it proved to her that there was a difference between a man she was already interested in, versus one in which held no interest with her at all. they were a chore, but this was proof. proof that one kiss was capable of determining just where it was that they stood. “how could i ever be mad at you for that?[/I]” she mumbled against his lips. thin arms wrapped close to too tight around his neck, holding him close even when he pulled away.

---

----- STATUS finit!
----- MUSIC cocorosiee.
----- OUTFIT such a hooker.
----- NOTES LITERALLY SHIT. IM SORRY!
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[matty olson]

<sup>he found the way she clung to him to be incredibly attractive. to feel needed, was something he'd experienced as a rarity in his life. still, the way her arms wrapped around his neck so tightly- it was so very sweet and endearing he couldn't bring himself to pull away. "shhh." he spoke to her softly, running a hand lazily through her blonde hair, not quite sure what he was soothing her for. probably just because it felt like she needed some comfort and he wanted to be the one to give it to her no matte what. the space between them was honestly too much, he almost looking as if he was resisting her when he caught their reflection in the mirror. with a deep exhale, the tension left his body and he embraced her in a hug forever pulling her closer to his heart; more true to form than either of them truly knew. he was literally so lucky to be wrapped in this moment with her. life was all about experiences- and matty knew that these were the ones that mattered. unlike felice he didn't have a pessimistic attitude about their relationship. regardless of what was to happen at the end of the day, matt truly believed that whatever they had going on between the two of them- it was going to work out, that she was going to come back to the city with him and they were going to live happily ever after in some fucked up pseudo-fairy tale, and that was perfectly alright with him. in fact, that's what he wanted. it's what he couldn't imagine doing with out at this point.

he knew time was growing short for the two of them; an ever constant battle that he had grown tiresome of during week one. he found himself overwhelmed with emotion in that moment. it really just seemed like it was all too much. she smelled and looked fantastic, her touch was warm and genuine and sincere, her words rolled off her tongue sounding like music and he did feel complete when he was with her, or atleast like he was chasing completeness, and that was really all he could ask for anyways. "i have to go soon, baby." he whispered in barely-audible tones, purposely because he didn't want to break up the moment but also because he half-hoped that she wouldn't hear him. that she would continue to stay pressed up against him head tucked close to his chest listening to the clash between the rhythmic beating of their synchronized hearts. despite how excited he'd been only moments ago to get lost in the city, now all he wanted to do was get lost in her and have her get lost in him, too. he knew this would never happen. still, every fiber of him was hoping and praying that it would. he was getting lost in his own thoughts now, something dangerous for matty because once he was there he often found it impossible to come back from the divide. quietly, quickly he stood up not because he wanted to but because he had to. "i'll be here in the morning when you wake up." he told her with a hopeful smile in hopes to raise the mood which hung like overcast in the room, equally as dreary as its counterpart. "i promise." grabbing his jacket and throwing it over his shoulders, he put his sunglasses on in suit. looking at her for a final moment, he gave her one last kiss and a little smile before walking out the door, and into the night.</sup>

[/color][/font][/i][/size] felice.
wardrobe,[/i][/size] wearing the glasses at night, no doubt.
music,[/i][/size] taking back sunday , a decade under the influence .
notes,[/i][/size] credit to melissa for the format. [/ul]
[/sup][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[matty olson]

[felice dorsé]

-----THE lights shined bright down de wallen, the mass crowds still lingered in the raw hours of the night. couples, tourists, and the regulars strolling down the road, taking in the whole other world. it was something even felice was still getting used to, the girls all standing in their windows, nothing but the lights shining down on them, doting nothing but the finest lingerie, awaiting their pick up for their pay. crystalline eyes remained glued to the canal to the left, not taking in any of the men’s stares through the thin sheet of glass separating from them. a hand remained glued to her hip, and for a mere second there, she considered what it was she was doing. though it was not long before she took in the twenty other girls visible, and somehow she was able to find solace in that. at least she was not alone, wandering the streets. the attention quickly shifted as roman, the man she preferred to call her boss came in over the speaker in the room she was barricaded to, telling her to go to room 219. turning off her light, she quickly listened to his demand. and ignored the glares from the other girls as she wandered down the hallway to said room.

-----IT was a wonder that felice was able to take on such a profession - if that’s what one would call it - and carry her head so high. it was something she should not have been so confident doing, but doing so managed to give her all the confidence in the world. her sexuality was always something she was well intact with, and this was one way she could go about it, and attempt to make a living for herself at the same time. it was all very ethereal to her in a way that it should not be, everything was a contradiction. she actually enjoyed the lights, the consistent crowds of people rushing down the streets to get a glimpse of this place, a place that she felt she was apart of. yet on the other hand, it was something she was too ashamed to tell anyone that meant virtually anything to her. it was something they would look down upon, and think she was absolutely insane for doing. yet the men of the night thought nothing of the sort, they lived for it in a sense. and as she entered room 219, she assumed it was going to be one of them. slightly skeletal fingers turned the door knob, and entered quietly. only to see the one person she had no idea how she could explain it to. “what are you doing here?!

[/FONT][/I]” she almost yelled, before realizing she had better keep her voice down before roman thought something was going wrong. the tips of her fingers shaking at the sight of him, and she didn’t know if this was real life, or her worst nightmare coming true before her eyes.

---

----- STATUS finit!
----- MUSIC cocorosiee.
----- OUTFIT such a hooker.
----- NOTES i fail! <33
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[matty olson]

<sup>on top of the world was a good place for him, he noted to himself an optimistic, enlightened state of euphoria flowing through his veins and radiating through his body, rubbing off on all those who came into contact with him. he could not recall a time in his life before this night where he had ever felt more himself. a heavy statement at best, for matty was always somewhat separated from everyone and everything while remaining so totally connected it didn't appear to be possible, and obviously difficult to understand. his night's affairs had been modest at best- but that had been the way he'd planned it. shortly after leaving felice's hotel room he returned to his own and crabbed his man bag, a fine leather shoulder bag his mother had purchased him for his eighteenth birthday and which he used to store all the necessities of the aspiring artist; fine paper, charcoal, a few pastels but lately he'd been on a black and white kick, and a whole lot of mess. then he went to the bar and downed a few more vodka shots, and profusely declined offers of ecstasy from some overly-intoxicated blonde girl he just happened to sit next to. needless to say, he was out of the tavern quickly.

his fingers itched with energy. preoccupied with a pencil, an instrument, they'd become accustomed to a high energy life and he knew his location: downtown. matty felt overwhelmingly uncomfortable in this area, and he tied desperately to play it cool but his ethnocentrism got the best of him. try as he might he could not shake the stigma he'd grown up with; it takes a desperate woman to tell their body, so desperate it's best to just forget about them and shake them under the dust along with the homeless and the drug uses. after years of practice he'd become much more extroverted, but the gumption it took to walk up to the all-telling individual on the street was something that measured to those of heroes, or so he would like to think. "hey man, what's going on? he stated in an ill attempt to communicate with the mostly ditch-speaking gentleman. "i'm looking for two girls. one tall, blonde like me- do you get me"? he pointed to his own blonde hair for clarity. "another brunette, like you, shorter?" lowering his hand to show the difference in height, he felt even more awkward when met with a toothy yellow smile and a nod. matty made a mental note to consider hiring a body guard, or atleast bring along a really big friend next time he felt inclined to do something so fucking careless.

standing tall, he attempted to appear bigger than he was just to deter this pimpin brother and his equally sketchy followers from pulling one on him, and pulled out a clip of 100 dollar bills, a thousand dollars in fact. while he had not yet inherited his parents wealth, he had a substantial chunk of change in the bank allowing him to make this purchase guilt-free. before he knew it, he was led into a dingy rent by the hour motel room and left alone. it wasn't incredibly filthy, but dated and screamed of bordello, and he found it "absolutely fucking perfect." deciding how he wanted to set up. leaving his sunglasses on , he closed his eyes and drew a picture in his mind hoping in the back of it that the girls that walked in the room were the opposite of pretty; it would all seem more real that way. the door opened behind him an instant blush flushed to his cheeks, disturbed at the awkward tension in the room. these girls were walking in sexually charged, and he had no interest. turning to take a step forward and shake whatever women happened to walk in the room's hand in true nerd form, he stopped short for only a moment and found himself breathless. shocked. what. the. fuck. "what the fuck?" he reiterated, surprised that he'd said anything at all. "no, i mean really, what the fuck?" he stated again, not believing what was before his eyes. felice. his felice- his felice who was supposed to be at work which was a crappy job and certainly not this, and "oh my god. are you fucking serious?" his brain was stuck in a state of repetiveness, as if he had short circuited. "felice!" he exclaimed, his voice raising atleast twelve octaves demanding an explanation and furious one had not come much sooner.</sup>

[/color][/font][/i][/size] felice.
wardrobe,[/i][/size] wearing the glasses at night, no doubt.
music,[/i][/size] taking back sunday , a decade under the influence .
notes,[/i][/size] credit to melissa for the format. [/ul]
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