imo-m-o-r-e-n-ox:

Imogen watched Jake fiddle with the radio, settling on a poppy song that had never crossed her ears before. It wasn’t her choice in music, but it was only background noise to her. She couldn’t help but smile as Jake challanged her to do her worst, his lopsidded grin came off as an honest and laid back smile, the kind that you would trust, then grew into a teasing and devious smirk, one that she returned right back to him, ”Don’t worry, I’m sure some of my oddities will become present during the day, just make sure you’re paying attention to catch them.” After telling Jake a few little things about herself, it was silent for awhile, the only sound being graciously provide by the stereo. Her chocolate eyes fell back to Jake, who appeared a bit lost in his own thoughts, and seemingly not realizing she had finished talking. Imogen looked out onto the road, it wouldn’t be too long until they reached the highway. From what she had seen so far, the traffic seemed pretty clear, which caused her to doubt any possible delays.

Her gaze left the road and snapped back over to Jake, hearing him ask about all the moves. “Yeah, you could sort of say we move a lot because of business. My Dad is a university professor, he’s gotten a lot of different offers from different schools over the years, so we’re constantly going to where the best offer is.” She paused, wondering if Jakes inquire was just curiosty, or if it was something he could relate to. “Moving around is the worst when you’re a kid, you think it would be easier to make friends when you’re younger but it really isn’t.” Imogen answered his question, as well as adding in a bit of personal experiance from moving around, it really was never fun, she owed her odd social skills to the fact that she never truely made any real friends growing up. Perhaps she was partially to blame, after a few years it had just gotten to the point she no longer cared to try. It was only in the last few years that Imogen put effort back into making friends. It was difficult for her at first, but the last few months it had become easier. Unbenounced to her, Imogen smiled lightly at the thought of how much she had improved herself in the last while.

“Guessing thats the map to our destination?” She questioned, nodding towards Jakes phone. Though she had been certain from the beginning that Jake knew exactly where he was going, it was a comfort to know they had a map incase. However, getting themselves lost would make for an interesting story. “I haven’t eaten since I woke up, but I think I’m good, thank you,” Imogen smiled a nodded, grateful for the offer. She squirmed in the seat a bit, changing her position a bit give herself more comfort, and also to avoid having her butt go numb. “I think I should tell you, I don’t know how to stay still for long periods of time. Never was one of my specialties.” Now in a comfortable state, Imogen smiled, deciding to turn the conversation around herself. “I gave you a bit of information on me, your turn now.” Despite just moving, Imogen moved again, only this time she turned a bit to face Jake, giving him her full, undivided attention. Only further proving her inability to really stay still, especially when she is more comfortable with her surroundings.

Even without glancing over at Imogen to subconsciously pluck out the sincerity of her words and tone from what was being said and also the way her words registered in her warm eyes, Jake knew that she had caught onto the familiar curl of what he had inquired her about, and he wasn’t sure if it was a positive or a negative thing. Throughout the course of his life, numerous people had commented on his relaxed, yet closed-off demeanor when they brought up a serious topic with him simply to judge his reaction, and Jake had grown to believe it himself. He had always been uncomfortable about admitting to the emotions swirling inside of him, and it didn’t help that the people that supposedly loved and cared about him never asked about his internal matters, always having opted for light talk that lacked in any kind of emotional foundation. Imogen, though, seemed to have cut through the many layers that coated his inner source, quick to notice that there were so many things that he bit back instead of voicing them aloud in the way that he was always there, yet distant. He had only been around the girl a handful of times before, and she was already picking past all of his charades and facades; it was slightly unsettling and unheard of at the same time.

Jake could still feel her narrow eyes lingering on him from beneath the thin frame of her glasses, settled at the very tip of her olive nose, but he attempted to disregard it, pushing himself back into the main wave of their sprawled-out conversation. “Took the words right out of my mouth,” he replied to her rather insightful, though brief, commentary on how difficult making friends was when you’re only a few years of age. Jake hummed in reply, using his thumb and index finger to clutch onto the phone settled in between the two and turn off the display in order to preserve what was left of the battery. “Just in case,” he grinned, his right hand returning to its initial place on the far side of the steering wheel.

“My turn?” He furrowed his eyebrows at her, though the teasing smirk painted across his thin lips seemed to give away his faux confusion. “Alright, alright…,” he agreed to her friendly request, racking his brain for a few things that he could tell Imogen about himself. Jake rolled his slender fingers against the smooth, textured surface as he pondered the many things that he could say, scrunching up his nose in the process for a second or two. “I’m a pretty boring person, so I don’t know how much I can tell you. I don’t want you to fall asleep on me,” he joked, his smile hitching upon his face as a minute chuckle slipped past the cover of his lips. “It’d make for a lonely two hours. Okay, I’m thinking…well, I orienteer after school during the week. Do you know what that is?” Jake paused to inquire, fully aware of the fact that it was a rather neglected activity, and most people didn’t know what orienteering entailed. Jake had even had to explain to his father what it was when he started coming home late in the afternoon on school days, and he still wasn’t too sure if Glen fully understand what kind of club he was involved in at Degrassi, but being the man that he was—which was the not-too-interested-in-anything-at-all kind—he didn’t think too much of it. “I’m a part-time carpenter at my dad’s company…I’m, uh,” Jake laughed, rolling his eyes at the old nickname that had rose to the top of his thought process once again, “I’m what my family considers a woodland creature. I hike, I fish, I do it all. Oh, and I hate this song.” Jake reached over and quickly turned off the radio, the only sounds swirling about in the air engulfing the two teenagers were the rumble of the engine around them and the muffled business that came along with any major road anywhere in the world. “I can’t think of anything else to say.”

imo-m-o-r-e-n-ox:

Imogen returned the smile, “I slept well, thank you for asking.” She watched Jake check for any on coming cars like a good driver should. She had only ever had a few driving lessons, and though her parents had been on her case lately about actually finishing the classes and taking the drivers test, Imogen really couldn’t be bothered to much with it. Any place she had to visit frequently was in walking distance and rarely did she ever need to take the bus. Yes, the freedom of being able to drive on ones own would be nice, but it wasn’t a requirement in her life yet, it merely seemed like something of convience to her. She didn’t recognize the maroon van driving by, most likely someone on the streets friends or family, not that it concerned her at all, but just as every other little thing is spiked the inquisitive girls curiosity. As Jake pulled away from her house, Imogen noticed his gaze up into the sky, her eyes followed and exmained the clouds she was sure he was also looking at. Her eyes were transfixed on the clouds as they rolled in, they didn’t appear to dark to her, taking that as a good sign, she replied to Jake. “They probably will, I didn’t see anything about rain when I checked the weather, just cloudy periods.” Imogen shrugged, meeting Jakes glances for a moment before looking back up at the sky.

The following silence was short, but being someone that enjoyed conversation, laughing, and noise, it was almost unbearabley long. When the car slowed to a stop at the first light, Imogen looked over at Jake. It was easy to tell that he had things on his mind, he was focused in though and on the road. At least I know I don’t have to worry about him getting side tracked while driving. She thought to herself, but she still couldn’t help but wodner just what was on his min. Though it wasn’t at all her business, Imogen suffered from being all to curious and was constantly reminded that curiosity killed that cat, to which she always responding by telling the person that satisfaction brought him back.

Imogen ended her curious cat related thoughts with the comforting smile Jake gave her. It was obvious to both that they were both a bit nervous today, neither one really having contact with the other until recently. She smiled lightly when he tried to break the ice with a casual ‘So’, there was a pause between the syllable and his next sentence. Imogen raised an eyebrow and smiled, “The wonderful world of Imogen?” She inquired, laughing lightly, it was different from the usual way people would ask her what she had been up to or how someone would ask her to speak about herself. When the light changed, Jake continued to drive as she spoke.

“I’m not sure what exactly to say, theres a lot of weird things about me and I would rather not scare away a potential new friend so soon.” Imogen smiled lightly, joking around a bit, but continued, stating random things about herself as they came to mind. “Despite my obsession for cats, I have a dog named Volta. I’ve moved around a lot with my family, but we’ve always remained in the city. I have an interesting music taste that most don’t agree with. I’ve broken more glasses than you have fingers, and… I’m a pretty good cook if I do say so myself.” Imogen shrugged again and smiled, she could continue listing off random things about herself, but she would rather not keep the conversation one sided.

Jake laughed along with her for the mere fact that it was one less moment where he was attempting to scrap together the wee remains of his previous thought process, taunted by an awkward, dead silence. “Yes, the wonderful word of Imogen,” he reiterated, lightly shaking his head at his own strange choices in words. “I don’t know, it sounded better in my head,” Jake shrugged, his tight grip on the wheel wavering as he attempted to get more comfortable in his seat. As the light overhead turned to green and Jake slowly made his way back up to his previous speed, he reached over to the middle of the dashboard and fiddled around with the radio settings with a free hand, settling for a quiet, poppy song that filled in the minute cracks of the default silence that coated every surface within the distance between the two.

When Imogen spoke up and mentioned that they were numerous queer things that made her her own brand of person, but she didn’t want to scare away a potentially new friend, Jake let out a small laugh, glancing her way briefly as he replied. “I don’t scare that easily, so do your worst, Moreno.” His amused, lopsided grin began to curl inwards at the corners of his mouth, twisting upwards on one side to unveil a devious, yet teasing smirk. He listened to Imogen speak of all of the minuscule aspects to her daily life, enlightening him on other things that she enjoyed, along with a hidden quirk or two. The sensation of her knowing voice had on him left the very back of his ears buzzing, the portion of his attention that he put towards her blurring a bit. A few counts of a swimming silence passed between the two before Jake realized that she had quieted, obviously waiting for him to push their conversation forward, her side of it finished for the time being. He laughed sheepishly, his eyes flickering back to the road stretching out for miles in front of them. He figured that once they got on the main highway, they had about a two-hour drive ahead of them, which, from his estimates, would guarantee that they’d arrive around three if they didn’t run into any unexpected obstacles, but Jake wasn’t anticipating any kind of inconveniences that afternoon.

“Why all of the moves?” He suddenly inquired, her small mention of moving around a lot subtly striking a chord with him. Jake could relate to that idea; his father and his company followed wherever his ideal business went, but Jake couldn’t really complain. Glen’s company meant a great deal to him, and who was he to get in the way of his father’s happiness and pride? “Do your parents travel for business or something?” He urged on, hoping that they could bond over a somewhat similar ground. They were nearing one of the more main roads that would lead them to the highway, the grey roads speckled with numerous vehicles, all varying in models and bright colours. Jake relaxed against the back of his seat once more, quickly fishing his phone out of his back pocket and pulling up the two’s ultimate destination on a map application in case he forgot one of the names of the streets that they were supposed to turn on in the coming future. “Have you had lunch yet? We can grab something coming up,” he added to his seemingly random, audible outbursts in response to what she had told him.

imo-m-o-r-e-n-ox:

Imogen was in the midst of balancing herself on one of the kitchen stools in a cross legged fashion when her focus was drawn astray by the sound of her cell from across the kitchen. The phone began to vibrate on the counter top, signalling the arrival of a message. Rather than going over to answer the text, she watched as it traveled across the counter and then plummeted to the floor upon reaching the edge. Dispite Imogen not feeling the fall her phone wouldn’t of felt, she winced when it made impact with the floor and shut off. The double bun clad girl uncrossed her legs and slid of the stool, making her way over to the phone. She bent down and picked it up, turning it on as she stood up straight again. Imogen never cared to dearly about her phone, she wasn’t an avid texter like most teenagers, frankly she could care less about texting, being why her inbox rarely had any messages.

Setting the phone back on the counter, Imogen turned her back to the counter and placed her hands on the counters cool tile top. She made a small jump and hoisted herself on to the counter, wiggling a bit to move herself further back. It hadn’t really crossed her mind just how late Jake really was until she read the text message from him, but sleeping in due to his alarm sounded like something Jake would do. Imogen replied, telling him it was fine and not to worry, she knows just how important his beauty sleep is to him. Though sleeping in was a typicaly reason to be late, thoughts of more exciting and galvanizing reasons to be late invaded her mind. Some made her giggle, some made her question her own mind abilities. The sudden rush of warmth on her back pulled her out of those thoughts. She had sat herself on the counter, right infront of a window, and the suns warm rays shone through, radiating a relaxing heat onto her.

With some more time to kill, Imogen decided she now had time to decide exactly what camera lens would be perfect for todays adventure. It wasn’t as though she had anything else to do, both her parents were out at the moment, and no one else was around to provide her with an engaging and witty conversation.As Imogen made her way into the living room to look over all her camera lens’ the though of conversation lingered tantalizingly in her mind. What would he and Jake talk about through the day? It was obviously they had different interests, but perhaps there were some similar ones they hadn’t yet discovered. Even with that consoling thought, her mind was still stuck on what they could talk about. Admittedly, Imogen didn’t have the best of social skills, it was proven time and time again over the years that her social skills were a tad on the underdeveloped side. It seemed to her the most common thing would to ask how he was doing and what was going on, but would it really be best to ask that? Imogen knew enough of what had been going on with Jake lately, namely his new living arrangements, and she highly doubted Jake would even want to touch on that subject. He probably gets enough of it from everyone else, Imogen thought while inspecting over the first camera lens she ever bought, the last thing he’ll want to talk about is his living arrangements, Clare, and his family. It was decided, that subject would be left untouched, for the better. It took a bit of fretting about it for her to realize one could not plan a conversation, especially when you never know how the other party will respond. You could plan things you might say, but you can’t plan where it goes from there. She would just have to let it go and see where the conversations went. As well, a good protion of the time would be spent with Jaking joking poking fun at her inevitably getting lost and trying to make friends with the forest creatures. Imogen did have one goal, however, try to convince Jake to make a bow and a set of arrows and run around with them purely for entertainment, of course.

She smiled and stiffled a laugh as she imagined how funny it would look as she began making her final decision on what camera lens to bring. The small framed girl pulled out her camera bag and placed her camera and two selected lins in accordingly, making sure they all fit in the notebook sized bag. The sound of an engine grew in her ears, muffled from the sound being outside. Imogen turned her position on the couch to look out the window. Sure enough, there was Jakes car pulled up infront of her house. Imogen rose from her seat and picked up her camera bag and traversed over to the front door. Being delayed enough as it was, she worked quickly, putting on her shoes and grabbing her wallet off the table by the front door incase she needed any money at all. With her wallet was the house keys, knowing everything was in hand, Imogen exited the house and locked the door behind her.

Reaching Jakes car, Imogen opened the door and got in, she smiled to the tall boy and closed the door behind her, setting her bag gently on the floor. “Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” She paused as she reached for her seat belt and buckled up, “well rested, I presume?” The double bun clad girl questioned.

Jake began to whistle along to the melody of the tune that was dancing about in the back of his ears softly, the highs and lows of the female’s voice falling into his subconscious thoughts, every word and every phrase soon becoming the lyrics to his own personal theme. He relaxed his posture against the back of his seat, allowing his eyes to wander from the illuminated screen he was clutching on to. Even though the Moreno’s lived in roughly the same neighborhood as his family did, the scenery on her minute chunk of the city looked so much different than what Jake was accustomed to shrugging off on a regular basis, opting for a more natural, rare view that Toronto didn’t offer. Everything was so much greener on her side. Every house on the street hosted a cornucopia of healthy trees, bushes, and flowerbeds that in turn decorated every curve and turn of their lawns and homes, speckling them the ideal family home. As Jake took in the scenery unfolding around him from behind a thin sheen of glass, he felt himself tucking his phone away once more, and leaning forward towards the wheel in his seat. He crossed his forearms over the textured surface, and then tucked his chin into the small break between his wrists and hands. Almost as if he had unknowingly stumbled across his own cue to change his mental course, his eyes flickered over to the Moreno’s front door, Imogen swiftly emerging from behind the opening door, her bag in hand. Jake thought that she saw her meet his gaze for a moment before turning back to lock the door behind her, but her facial features were too blurred to make anything definite out of it, and he meekly waved, a lopsided grin working its way onto his face as she made her way down the narrow path to the passenger side of his car.

Jake lowered the volume of the song that had oddly enough captured his attention for a moment at most as she opened the door on her side, and sat down beside him, setting her bag down at their feet in between them. Chuckling lightly at Imogen’s greeting, Jake scrunched up his nose at her. “Something like that,” he replied, pushing himself back from his previous position near the wheel before readjusting his loose hold on it. “How’d you sleep?” He inquired in return, turning away from her gaze to take a quick peek at his rear-view mirror and check if there were any cars coming their way. He waited for a maroon van to pass before he attempted to pull away from the side of the street, heading north. Jake took notice of the area where the blue sky was beginning to turn grey, clouds rolling in from both the east and the west, texturizing the open space above. He had made sure to check the weather the previous night for any kind of rain that would ruin his plans the following day, but he wasn’t too worried at that point in time since they weren’t expecting any kind of dreary weather (that extended beyond a party cloudy afternoon) anytime soon. “Let’s hope that this will all clear up by the time that we get there,” Jake thought aloud, glancing over at Imogen briefly.

He was racking his hollow head for possible topics to converse with Imogen about, but when it came down to it, they still could be considered strangers. All he knew about her was that she was an artist and that she was a hell of a lot more easy going than most, which he greatly appreciated, but he still couldn’t play off of. Nibbling on the inside of his pink cheek once more as they neared their first stop light at the end of her street, Jake offered her a small smile, hoping to make her feel a little more comfortable about their plans for the day. “So,” he began slowly, savoring the way the rather insignificant word tasted on his tongue. “What exactly goes on in the wonderful world of Imogen anyway?” He asked, his nibbles on his tissue becoming a little more violent when he took notice of how foreign the inquiry sounded coming from him. “Tell me about you,” he revised, his eyes wandering back to the road stretching out in front of them.

Colours were twirling about in the black, canvas-like atmosphere stretching out before Jake’s unconscious mind and tired eyes, pale browns and peaches willingly meshing together to form unrecognizable faces and statures that filled in the backdrop of his strange dream. The figures and people were nearing what seemed like an unveiling of their ultimate purpose within the bounds of his worry-ridden mind when the painting lingering on the back of his eyelids fell away, everything becoming a smidgen of a blur as Jake’s eyelids fluttered open, and then quickly were being squinted by their owner when the bright daylight pouring in through the blinds registered in his mind. Recalling that he had promised to take Imogen out to Collingwood so she could work on her photography portfolio a few moments later, Jake pushed himself up on his elbows so he was in a sitting position, and reached over the mound of distorted blankets and sheets at his side to check the time on his phone. It was nearly forty minutes after what he had initially proposed as their leaving time. He quickly sent a message to Imogen, apologizing for his tardiness, and to tell her that he’d be there in fifteen minutes. Cursing beneath his breath in a raspy voice, Jake tossed the rest of his sheets aside to the far edge of his bed, and disregarding the painful moaning and creaking the bed frame made beneath his stalky body’s departure from it, he went down his mental checklist for what he needed to do and bring in order for his afternoon with Imogen to be a complete success. His bare feet slapped against the hardwood flooring beneath him as he made overlapping beelines throughout the confines of his bright room, getting ready for the day in the bathroom, in his main room, and on his way down to the kitchen. Pausing at the very last carpet-clad step on the staircase to glance around the empty first level of his home, his busy mind drifted back to his fight (could it even be considered a fight?) the previous night with his stepsister when the probability of him ever having the capacity to love her when they were dating suddenly became the perfect debate topic in her head. Jake, having made it publicly known that he had no interest in love or drama, had simply told the curly-haired girl to get some rest, and leave the topic where it had seemingly been for the last few weeks—out of mind, where it ought to have been all along.

Clare, however, was nowhere to be seen on that Saturday morning, and Jake sighed in relief before making his way into the kitchen, unfolding the balled up piece of blue cloth that was his t-shirt within bounds of his large hands, and pulled it over his head in one swift motion. He rifled throughout the mess of cabinets and drawers within the room for what he figured they would need for their unique itinerary for the day, gathering all of his supplies and putting them into his backpack. When he had checked off everything on his mental list and stood there in the kitchen, leaning against the counter island on his hip, pondering what else the two teenagers would need for their midday adventure, his father made his way down the staircase, a glum look painted across his aged face, trickling into every one of his distinct, sharp features. Jake quickly straightened up his posture, pushing his body away from the counter slowly, his fingers still tightly wrapped around the edge of the polished tiles where it curled into the wood sides. Now meeting his father’s narrowed eyes, he remembered how he had nearly detested them for the weeks prior, him and Helen having still being the ones to enforce his seemingly everlasting house arrest. Parting his rosy lips to explain what he was up doing so early, Jake closed them once more when Glen didn’t say anything for a breath or two, but simply took a peek into his bag, using two of his slender fingers to poke around within the confines of it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Glen inquired, his voice unusually low and lacking a solid, audible foundation, his dark eyes still fixed on the bag. Despite the circumstances, Glen still managed to weave his signature chuckle into his words, making them seem rather insignificant, but Jake wasn’t one to argue, especially if he was trying to convince his father that a few months of domestic detention had done him well. Jake simply shrugged, glancing away from his father and upwards at the bare ceiling to ponder the many ways in which he could reply to Glen’s question and push the conversation forward in his favor.

“I’m, uh, heading up to Collingwood with a friend,” he explained briefly, one of his rough hands finding its way to the back of his neck, rubbing harsh circles into his birthmark-speckled skin to calm his nerves. He had always been comfortable talking to Glen, but when he was currently in the process of doing something that he knew his father wouldn’t approve of, his confidence and their father-son familiarity seemed to disappear, all previous traces of it lost. Glen’s eyes finally flickered back up to his son’s, and he relaxed on the opposite side of the island, a minute sigh slipping from his lips.

“You’re still grounded, Jake,” Glen replied gruffly, placing his sides on either sides of the counter much like Jake had minutes before. Jake bit the inside of his cheek, carefully tugging on the stringy bits with his teeth.

“I’m just helping her out with her photography portfolio. She asked me if I knew some good places for nature shots, and I offered to give her a ride up to Collingwood,” he furtherly explained, hoping that it would give his father a thin basis to pin his sincerity and innocence to. “I haven’t been out in weeks, and I’m going to get cabin fever or something if I don’t get outside.” The two men laughed at Jake’s reference, and the grin stretching out across Jake’s features seemed to widen even more so when Glen held onto his smile as well. He considered the content of Jake’s argument for a few seconds, staring past him as he pondered, and then ultimately sighed, rounding the corner of the counter as he plucked the keys to Jake’s truck off the top of the refrigerator. Glen tossed them to his son, who was quick to capture them within his hands and tuck them away into his back pant pocket. Without further ado, Glen was sauntering back upstairs, shaking his head at either his son’s naivete or rather his shameful flexibility as a father, Jake wasn’t sure, but he was still content with how their confrontation had unfolded.

“Don’t keep her waiting,” his father muttered as he disappeared behind the green wall, his footsteps growing more and more muffled as the seconds ticked on until Jake could no longer make them out. Checking the time one final time, he grabbed his bag off of the table and quietly unlocked the front door, carefully shutting it behind him. Even if his father was somewhat okay with this sudden break in his house arrest term, Jake knew that Helen probably wouldn’t be as generous as Glen had been, and he didn’t want to give her any kind of premature distaste for his actions by announcing his brash departure.

Jake shuffled down the front steps and jogged over to his car, aware of the fact that he was already running obnoxiously late. His hopeful tendencies wandered back to him momentarily as he wondered if he truly had kept Imogen waiting, which was extremely likely at this point. He threw his bag into the bed of his truck, where it was fixed in place by the other objects that were surrounding it, and got into the car, quickly shutting the door behind him and starting the engine. His vehicle was instantly filled with the melody of a bittersweet tune, a cornucopia of guitars and percussion instruments claiming the area in the back of his ears as their home, muffled, yet still audible. Jake lowered the volume as he pulled out of the driveway, his mind ridden with thoughts pertaining to his tardiness and the mere proposal of spending the day with Imogen. Even though they had only talked a few times before, online and not, Jake considered her to be a kind and hilarious person, who was most certainly welcome in his life. She was simple, fun, and everything that he had never once found in a person or acquaintance upon moving to Toronto. Despite the rather unconventional circumstances, Jake was looking forward to spending the day with the girl.

It wasn’t long until Jake was slowing to a stop in front of Imogen’s home that he finally allowed the idea of actually carrying out a casual friendship with her to wash over his senses. She wasn’t exactly the type of person that he would usually welcome to accompany him on a trip to one of his favorite places that held such a great amount of sentimental value to him, but after everything that he had gone through in the last few months, nothing seemed unlikely or impossible. Pulling out his phone and rereading the last few texts that he had exchanged with one of his childhood friends that lived numerous hours away now, Jake waited for Imogen to grace him with her presence, glancing at the digital clock on the dashboard every now and then until she arrived.

blueeyes-clare:

Yeah, a while ago. I’m not tired. Whatever, good night.

Try. Night.

(via ittakestwo-degrassirp)

blueeyes-clare:

It’s a simple question. I saw what you told Drew so I was just curious.

Get some rest, it’s late. Has Alli gone home yet?

(via ittakestwo-degrassirp)

blueeyes-clare:

I’ll take that as a no.

Take it as whatever you want it to be, but I just don’t understand why all of this matters right now.

(via ittakestwo-degrassirp)

blueeyes-clare:

Did you love me while we dated?

Goodnight.

(via ittakestwo-degrassirp)

blueeyes-clare:

What about before..?

I thought we were over before.

(via ittakestwo-degrassirp)

blueeyes-clare:

Well apparently love isn’t your thing. What is that supposed to mean?

Tell me, sister, what do you think I mean?

(via ittakestwo-degrassirp)