After a drunk driver collides with you at a crosswalk, it’s a miracle you survive. The driver was never found, much less charged. After years of rehab, you can walk again. You and your family go to a bar to celebrate, only to find sitting at a crowded table, is the guy that caused your accident.
She does not remember much of that night. It happened fast. A lot faster than she would have cared for it. She had just put her cellphone back into her backpack where she had told her boyfriend of six months that she’d be home soon. Richard was nine months younger than her, but they had been co-workers for three years before they started dating. She didn’t expect to start dating someone younger than her much less a co-worker, but she did. They had been living together ever since they got together, six months ago. Did their relationship move fast? A lot faster than she had thought? A lot faster than her parents had wanted? Yes, but it was fine. It was worth it. They loved each other. He would have picked her up from where she worked at a store, but he had just gotten home from his job at dealership. He had asked her if she wanted to be picked up, but she said it was fine, she could walk. It was a ten minute walk from Kroger’s to her house, she had a thick coat, thick socks, thick gloves, and a hot coffee. A walk would do her good, she had told him. She was walking, a coffee in her two hands, her eyes squinting, trying to make sense of the road in the snow. She was 18. It was January. The snow was normal, especially in Maine. The fog was normal. The way she couldn’t see two feet ahead of her was normal. She was used to it. She was always cautious, as she walked. She looked both ways, always. She was always paying attention to her surroundings. Tonight was no different. She shivered, taking a sip of her hot coffee, as she looked both ways to cross the street, even though she had pushed the button giving her the right of way. No one was there, but you could never be too careful, especially with all the fog, snow and ice. She walked across it and was three-quarters of the way there, when a vehicle came into view, she started going faster, but was not fast enough. She saw the outline of a red minivan, as she was pushed onto the sidewalk. Her hot coffee, minutes ago inside the cup, was on her skin, burning her chest, some of her face, and some of her arms. The vehicle kept going, giving no attention to the 18 year old. She yelled in pain, her entire body hurting from the wreck. She watches, as it turns to the left down the road, and watches it pay no attention to the girl it just ran over. She went to go grab her cellphone out of her backpack that was on her back, but when she tried turning, her entire back felt like it was on fire. “Help!” She screamed, hoping someone could hear her. “Someone, help! Please!” She cried, knowing she’d have to wait until someone drove by, which could be hours. She kept screaming, hoping someone could hear her from one of the homes that are nearby, but she is too far. She cries instead. She lays there, unable to move, her entire body feeling like it was just ran over. Her thick jacket helped her break her fall, but not by a lot. Her neck hurts. Her back hurts. Her feet hurts. Everything, except for her hands. She has not been in this much pain since she got kicked in the face by a donkey over fifteen years ago when she went too close even after her father told her not to. She still had a scar from that incident.
A vehicle comes up to her, and stops. “Oh, my gosh. Quinten, call 911!” A woman says, after she is out of her vehicle and has walked up to Carly. “It is okay. We are calling 911. Help will be on the way shortly.”
Carly hears this, and murmers, “Thanks.”
The woman walks away from her, as her ten year old son yells something to her, and goes to her vehicle. She returns to the 18 year old. “The ambulance is on its way. Is there anyone you need me to call?”
Carly blinks, thinking. “I… No.” It would be impossible to get ahold of Richard. He just got a new phone number that day, and she did not remember it. “My parents.” She tells the number, “My dad’s number. My mom’s number is,” She tells a number again. “My brother’s number is,” She’s shivering, but she doesn’t realize. She’s cold and hot at the same time.
The woman nods and starts dialing. “Yes, is this,” She covers the mouthpiece. “What is your name?” “Carly Mattheson.” Carly answers, not looking up, just looking at the snow. “Carly Matheson’s sister, brother, sorry.” Pause. “Your sister’s been involved in an accident.” Pause, again. “I don’t know what happened. I just came upon it. Ray St. and Lows St. Intersection. I think she’s been hit. She cannot move. Ambulance is on its way.” She leaves Carly, as she speaks to Steve. She returns. “Your brother is contacting family members.” She says, squatting on the ground next to her.
How long has it been when she hears a vehicle stop by, and her boyfriend get out and squat next to her, holding her hand. “Carly. Oh my gosh. I’m right here.” She tries moving, but he stops, “No. Don’t. We have no idea the damage. I am right here.” It seems like days until she hears the loud sound of the ambulance and feels herself being lifted onto a gurney. After she’s in the ambulance, she’s taken to the hospital, fifteen minutes away from the accident, where she finds herself staying for the next three years, rehabilitating. Rehabilitating was hard. It was the hardest thing she had done in her life, but she did it. She stayed at the hospital for a year, getting treated for her burns the first few days, and her major injuries, a broken rib, both legs broken and her back severely damaged for the next year and a half. It was painful. She would have much rather gotten kicked in the face by the donkey ten times then go through the therapy that she did. They never found the driver. They were never charged. Carly was upset at that. They could have killed her and they just walked free? Not cool. Not fair. At all. The doctors told her that because of the break in her back it would be a miracle if she walked, if she ran again. Carly was determined. She was going to walk again. Maybe not do a marathon, but she would walk. That was a promise she made to herself.
After three years of physical therapy, not including the year and half spent in the hospital, she can walk again, without the cain that she has been using for over a year. She’s ecstatic. Does she have a limp that’s noticeable? Yes, but she can walk without any help, which is amazing. To celebrate, Carly and her family go out. They go to their local bar, a place Carly has not been in a few months and without the help of a cain. She sits next to her brother, and Frank, her boyfriend of four months. She and Richard broke up after he left for a better job opportunity a year ago. She was heartbroken, but she knew that him living in Mexico would be difficult. They’re still friends, but they’re not dating anymore, which they’re both fine with. Carly has Frank and Richard has Wanda, a girl he’s been seeing for the past five months. They’re both happy.
Carly stops talks listening to the conversation around her, as she sees someone. She squints her eyes, as she’s sitting next to her brother. Is that him? She doesn’t remember exactly, but she noticed a vehicle similar to the one that crashed into her parked in the parking lot. She didn’t think it was his, there are a million vehicles that look like that; but sitting here, at the bar, with the man drinking what looks to be hard liquor, she’s pretty sure it’s the vehicle. She’s pretty sure it’s the man. “Steve,” She whispers to her brother, “That’s… I’m pretty sure that’s him.”
He looks over where she’s looking, “Who?” She continues staring, as he sits there sipping his drink, observing the bar.
“The guy in the black jacket. Next to the guy in the Penn T-Shirt.”
He doesn’t speak for a minute. “That’s a woman.”
Carly looks over to his right, as she says, “Not her. The guy to his left.”
He loooks at his sister, as he says, “Carly, there’s no one there.”
Carly looks at her brother, then back at the table, “Steve, are you serious? He’s sitting right there, drinking from a glass. He has short hair, no facial hair, a black T-shirt on and a black jacket on. His hair is greased, like he put gel on it this evening before coming here.”
He looks back over to the table, “There is no one there, Carly.”
Carly turns to Frank, “Frank, look over there, to the guy who is wearing the Penn T-shirt. Do you see the guy next to him? I think he’s the one. He’s the one who hit me.”
Frank looks to where is girlfriend has instructed, but turns to her, a quizzical look on his face, “Babe, there’s no one there. Not a man, anyway. There’s only a woman.”
Carly stares at Frank. “Not the woman. The guy. He has a drink in his hand. Sitting right next to the guy in the Penn shirt.”
Carly’s takes a deep breath, as she looks at her boyfriend. “There not a guy sitting next to him. Are you talking about the guy behind him?”
Carly looks to where he’s instructed, a guy about 35 years old, a brown jacket, long red hair, pulled into a ponytail. “No. I’m talking about the guy next to him. He has the black jacket on. Short hair. It looks like he just put gel on it.”
She’s speaking a bit loud, as she’s caught her parents attention. “Honey, who are you talking about?”
Carly, sighs, explaining the man once again to her parents. “You see him, right? He’s sitting next to the guy in the Penn t-shirt.”
Her mother looks at her father, “Are you talking about the guy with the ponytail?”
Carly rolls her eyes, “No, I’m not talking about the guy with the ponytail /behind/ the guy with the Penn shirt. I’m talking about the guy right next to him.” She whispers, getting frustrated. Is she the only one who can see him? It doesn’t make sense.
“Honey,” her mother starts, “There is no one there beside the guy with the Penn T-shirt. At least not a man.”
Her father looks concerned as he says, “Did you take anything before you left? Medication, drugs, any alcohol?”
Carly sighs, as she stands up. “I need to go to the restroom.” She leaves without another word. She uses it, then washes her hands before splashing water on her face. She takes a few deep breaths. She turns, to see the woman sitting two seats away from the man who almost killed her, entering the bathroom.
“Excuse me,” The woman looks at Carly a confused expression on her face, as Carly continues, “Who is the guy sitting next to the guy in the Penn T-shirt?”
The girl stops, “What guy? There’s not a guy sitying next to my fiance and I.”
Carly looks outside the door where she can see him. “Yes, there is. Black jacket, gel in his hair, short jet black hair.”
The woman looks where her fiance is sitting. “There is no one beside my fiance. Do you need me to call someone for you? Have you been drinking too much?”
Carly looks at herself in the mirror, looks back at the table, where the man is gone, dissapeared, and answers, “No… I… I’m good. Sorry for worrrying you. I have family here. I’ll just be returning to them.” She moves slowly to the table, looking back at the table with the guy with the Penn T-shirt, and sees no one beside him. There’s not even a chair.
Frank comes up beside her, and leads her to the table, “You okay?”
She shakes her head, “No. No, I’m not.” She whispers, as she sits back down.
“I’d ask if you want something to drink, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Carly’s barely registering what she’s hearing because right as she sits down, she sees him again, leaning against the bar, looking right at her.
“Guys,” she gestures over to the bar, where they all look, but don’t see anyone.
“There’s no one there,” “What are we supposed to be looking at?” “Do you mean the bartender?”
She stares at the man, and he winks at her, a smile on his face. She rushes outside. “Carly, I’m sorry for scaring you.” She turns to him. The man who almost killed her. How does she know her?
“How… how do you know my name? Why am I the only one that can see you? Why are you invisible to everybody else? I don’t understand. What are you doing here?” She’s screaming at him, in a hushed tone.
“I’m sorry for scaring you. Really. I am. I’ve just… I’ve wanted to see you for awhile.”
Carly steps back. “Who are you?” He sighs, trying to break the news to her slowly.
“I… Yes, I was the who tried killing you.” Carly’s thankful she’s outside, in case anything happens. There are exit ways all over.
“What do you mean? Why did you to try to kill me?”
He stays where he is as he explains, “You see, it’s my job. I have an interesting type of job, something that you can’t easily apply for. I am Death, and you my dear, can only see me because you escaped me once before. There were four other people, in there, who could see me, but they didn’t pay attention.”
Carly considered this, “My dad almost died. He couldn’t see you.”
He looks at her, a small nod, as he explains, “There must have been another one who tried taking your father. It’s rare for us choose to show ourselves, most of the time, they choose to wait for the next opportunity, well, for the final opportunity. I must be going. It was nice seeing you.”
Carly looks at him, a concerned look on her face, thinking, “When… When will I see you again?”
He turns around, walking away from the bar, “You will see me soon, Carly Matheson. Very very soon.”
(feel free to use these<33 credits are appreciated!! tag me when you write the 2nd, 4th, 6th and the last one! plss )
lazy kisses as they admire you
^ fingers delicately trialing your jaw as they kiss your lips
messy kisses>>>>curly hair, ruffled sheets and half buttoned clothes as you just want more and at that moment,they’re the most beautiful soul to you ever
soft kisses- where they’re just lying beside you, hands playing with your hair as they trail tender kisses all over your lips
needy kisses! nibbling, biting, groaning and moaning into the kiss, absolutely being a mess and too hot to handle, where they cradle your body between their arms (GOOD SHI GOOD SHITT)
kissing and realising this is the person you’ll always love, you’ll always want to touch and snuggle with
good bye kisses - kisses lingering like liquor in each other’s lips, bitter but sweet, “I’ll always come back to you, love. you’re my home afterall.”
shy kisses !! when you’re the one pulling them closer, and they nuzzle their face in your crook after the kiss, hands around your waist as their ears gets red !
kisses on your body ♡ frail kisses on your shoulder! on your lower back, belly and trailing to your neck, collarbones, lips..
the type of kiss where you can’t find words to say after, or the ones where your forehead lingers against each other’s
prohibited kiss - you’re not even supposed to be seeing each other but your hands are on his hair and his hands around your waist, lower bodies pressing into each other’s as you kiss >>>>
<while panting> “well..three times a night is certainly a record isn’t it?” “records are meant to be broken”
“still hate me?” “definitely” “just as much?” “hmm…maybe * pinches fingers* a little less”
“oh well that was..” “yup” “and that” “i know ” “and THAT” “oh my god” “…..” “round two?” “oh definitely”
one of their roommates being like “you know all i want for christmas/my birthday/etc is some noise cancelling headphones i think they’ll be utilised quite a lot actually” “…that is three months away” “you both are the reason i need them especially after..that time so go figure”
if it’s friends to lovers: them knowing exactly what the other likes and doing their best to like do those things
if it’s enemies to lovers: “this changes nothing i still hate you” “sure you do”/“didn’t seem that way two minutes ago”
<while making out> “is this moving too fast” “i uhm- maybe yeah” “…” “fuck it anyway?” “great idea” <resumes making out>
“YOU SLEPT WITH A??? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING????”
“you’re so cute when you get all blushy”
“are you..are you blushing?” “NO physical activity just makes me red okay”
eye-fucking each other across the room and someone just says “earth to A/B?? hello??”
“name one thing we benefit out of this relationship?” “well..” “the sex doesn’t count” “it is good” “THATS NOT THE POINT” “do you disagree?” “..no” “there you go”
character A making it their absolute goal for character B to admit that the best sex they’ve ever had is w/ A, and they both are kinda surprised when it actually happens
“that is simply not possible” “challenge accepted”
Person B: “How we feel about it, doesn’t matter, it still has to be done. If you’re not up to the task, then say so now while we still have time to find someone else to do the job in your stead.”
he leans down fingers delicately cupping her face, tugging her closer as he pressed his lips to hers swiftly, thumb grazing over cheek. ' sleep , my love. '
she’s made of something sweet , lips tasting like something sweeter . her fingers encircle his wrists & dig into flesh , body lifting from her chair as she presses back , feather - soft kiss made harder than he had initiated . the sleuth pulls back & her forehead rests against his , gentle chuckle escaping her throat . ❝ i’m five minutes away from being finished with this case . ❞ another kiss is given to his lips , then another . ❝ be more patient , darling . ❞ // @ripostc
ACT I . you’ve got cherries for hair & strawberries on your mouth / saccharinety in your lungs , bound to be choked out by those wilted roses ———- not all sugar is sweet & not every little girl stays complete . you’ve sung your tune long enough , with that PARTHENOPE VOICE , that maiden - like throat . . . you’ve sent men to their deaths!you , a siren , a murderer at best , with BLOOD that refuses to leave what porcelain fingers you have . those roses in your rib - cage are being choked out , that sweetness you hold onto suffocated by bitter thorns . ( YOUR LUNGS ARE ULVOSE , YOUR FLOWERS WITHERING . )
