maybe if she had been called beautiful before with so much drive, she wouldn't have been so
stuck
on the one drunk boy from the street.
but he had meant it in such a way―
she was doomed right from the start.
༻❁༺
―on a girl with bad days, the first b...
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「 II 」 SIXTEEN.
she had to have Archer drive. how tragic.
Marguerite had only told him a friend of hers needed help, and being the kind soul he was (and she still didn't know if this was for her sake or a true change), he simply asked for the address and got in the car.
her hands were shaking.
her whole body was probably trembling.
"baby, you look terrified," Archer said after a long period of quivering silence. "are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?"
wouldn't that be the explosion of the century?
"no, i'll be fine. i'll let you know if i need a ride back to yours, okay?" she looked at him, trying to appear reassuring, but based on the concern gracing his chiseled features, she still looked ghostly.
how could she not? she had no clue what to expect when she entered Tyler's house for the first time in what felt like ages.
sooner rather than later, Archer's car pulled in front of Tyler's house, and she had to leave the temporary comforts the car had provided. "thanks for...everything," she said once she had gotten out of the car, too softly with too much finality.
at this point, Archer looked half as scared as she likely did. "are you sure everything's okay?"
she smiled softly. "peachy. i'll see you around."
before Marguerite could hear his flustered response, she closed the car door behind her and trekked towards the all-too-familiar house. she had been all kinds of high in this house. on substances. on music.
on the eyes of the boy she adored so deeply.
she knocked hesitantly on the door.
it was Tyler who answered, eyes widening on seeing her and immediately engulfing her into a hug. she took the opportunity to smell his fading marijuana and fresh shampoo aura.
"good to see you, Presley. especially since that kid's on the verge of breaking my parents' shit."
Marguerite laughed the shakiest laugh she could muster.
should i be scared?
too late. i'm already t e r r i f i e d.
she followed Tyler into the kitchen, and there.
there he was.
the most perfect boy she had ever laid eyes on, the most frustrating boy she had ever known.
his eyes were beyond faded, like he couldn't truly see a thing, and he was murmuring some song he used to play all the time and absently swinging an empty bottle of jack daniels
back and forth and back and forth and
he was a vision. always a vision.
baby curls were growing in; he must've shaved his head.
"hey, crazy," Tyler spoke up on noting Marguerite's silence, "i brought you a visitor."
he glanced up through hooded eyes, and
their gazes m e t
for the first time in too many days, and she thought she could c o l l a p s e any second.
how had she gone without him for so long? she had been so hollow.
"well," he slurred, "if it isn't my pretty girl."
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