this is the story with fantastic lies
A blog for all of Ella's drawings, drabbles, short stories and general things
Another thing, for my baby Cass.
“You never clean up after yourself-”
“No, and I’m not going to start anytime soon.” - A playful smirk, his arm brushing lightly against hers as she drained the coffee from his mug and sighed, giving a look as if to say ‘trust you’. Clothes were strewn across the tile flooring, plates, mugs and cutlery left discarded on the kitchen table and countertops and origami butterflies fluttered on the windowsill, their paper wings flickering in the light breeze. “Besides, Cass, you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” Eli rested his chin against her head, wrapping his arms around her waist and smiling - he had no shame and she had too much, her cheeks flaring.
“No, not when you can do it perfectly well yourself,” she stated sternly, clucking her tongue impatiently as aquamarine eyes darted around the kitchen, bathed in the summer morning sunlight. “You’re just lazy and trying to take advantage of the fact I’m not.” - And he sure as hell didn’t deny it, because it was true.
“Ah, you know I love you though.” - Complete teasing, a grin playing on his lips. Cass found herself torn between asphyxiating him or hugging him back because she knew there was nothing but honesty shining through his light-hearted tone. Purely platonic relationships were so much more satisfying than being ‘in love’, because no matter what, Cass would always go back to Eli.
“Yes, I do, and I love you, too.”
I made a thing
May recognise this as my sidebar image - well, it is. I made this a while back, for Cass & Elias (they deserve my love). Made in GIMP, if you must know~
“What?” - redhead was giving him this pointed look, a paintbrush poised between his thin fingers and brunette had barely lifted a finger since he’d first sat here half an hour ago, until now. Oliver had clasped his hands behind his neck and tilted his head back ever so slightly, sky blue eyes never really leaving Noir as he did, so he didn’t miss the slight grimace and the pause as he pulled his hand away from the blank canvas, to give him said pointed look. “What?” - oh, he knew of course, but to hear his voice—
“I’m just waiting.” - now that was the closest to a blessing Oliver was ever going to get, even watching Noir’s half assed gesture towards him. And he couldn’t help but grin, because redhead was… different. And more importantly, redhead was his and only his.
Oliver didn’t say a thing as he pulled his hands away from his neck, as he moved back into the position Noir had told him to sit in half an hour ago. No, Oliver didn’t say a thing until Noir started painting again, until Noir’s undivided attention was on the canvas, again— “Besides, that’s my shirt you’re getting paint on.”
And Noir grumbled something along the lines of ‘shut up’, but Oliver didn’t miss that smile.
this symbolises the beginning, of everything.
