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Messages - Darius Palomer

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Darius Palomer sat in his kitchen for two minutes tapping idly at his phone before standing up, dressing Ruby Jr. in her little winter attire, and leaving for the nearby bus stop. As he closed the front door with one hand, carrying Ruby in the other, the cool air hit his skin and knocked some needed sense into his bones. Perhaps he shouldn’t have sent that last text.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have replied at all.

But the best he could do now was get on with it—act like an adult with a wife and child, not the defiant musical education student he once was not even a few years ago. They were all mature now, weren’t they? Emotionally compromised, sure, but mature, reliable, grown-up.

God, this was ridiculous. They had been ridiculous. If maybe he hadn’t… if he had…

“You know,” Darius said, raising an eyebrow. Ruby stared back angrily, though she looked like a disgruntled munchkin more than anything. “If you hadn’t given Ephraim your damn sippy cup, then you could still be watching Peppa Pig right now. That’s how the big girl world works.”

“No, Daddy.”

“... Alright, then.”

Darius took his phone out again, ignoring the little spark of hope that glimmered when the lock screen brightened and immediately dimmed when the only notification was Ruby Sr.’s single thumbs up. He sent back a kiss emoji and a “Baby Ru says love you x”, then opening up YouTube for his daughter as he resigned to stare out the window until their stop arrived. It wasn’t like he was the nosy type—those people were annoying as hell, to be frank—but anyone’s interest would be piqued. A sudden move.

If he remembered correctly, the Carter house was quite nice for their family of five. Why an apartment all of the sudden?

Finally, Darius and Ruby hopped off the bus and made their way to 6th and Willow Boulevard. The place wasn’t bad, per se. It wasn’t great either, and Darius was just blunt enough to actually admit it. Five minutes, and there they were.

He wavered in front of the door proudly presenting #407 and adjusted his hold on Ruby. “Why are we here?” she questioned, pointing at the peephole.

“We’re getting your cup. Wanna ring the bell?” She did, in fact, want to ring the bell. It was probably better that way.

The lock clicked, and the door creaked open. Ronnie Jay Carter stood in the threshold with Ruby’s bright red sippy cup and bare fingers. He blinked and smiled politely, taking the sippy cup from her hands. “O-Oh, thanks. Sorry for all the trouble.” A little figure stood beside her, and he set down Ruby so she could say hello. “So Mr. Ephraim here’s a thief in the making, eh?”

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MADE BY ANNIE          06:21 PM              31%
   RJC
Hey.  Sorry to bother you, but are you missing a red sippy cup by chance?  Ephraim took one home and he said it was Ruby's
Shit I didn't even notice
*Crap
Lol
Yeah Ruby's been missing her sippy cup, apparently Ruby Sr's been looking for it all afternoon. She can just get it tomorrow at drop off
Oh tomorrow's Saturday uh
Oh um
I can bring it to you?  Or you can come get it?  Unless she has another
Yeah that sounds good
I mean - I can come over. She probably gave it to Ephraim as a "gift" but she'll be crying about it tomorrow morning stg
You haven't moved houses spontaneously in the last three months have you?
Haha probably best to get it back to her before Eph gets attached
Actually I did move, five months ago.  I'm #407 of building 2 at the apartments on 6th & Willow Blvd now
Ah I see
Don't mean to pry but did something happen?
About to leave, I'll be there in a few
Message...

3


MADE BY ANNIE          06:17 PM              32%
   RJC
Hey.  Sorry to bother you, but are you missing a red sippy cup by chance?  Ephraim took one home and he said it was Ruby's
Shit I didn't even notice
*Crap
Lol
Yeah Ruby's been missing her sippy cup, apparently Ruby Sr's been looking for it all afternoon. She can just get it tomorrow at drop off
Oh tomorrow's Saturday uh
Oh um
I can bring it to you?  Or you can come get it?  Unless she has another
Yeah that sounds good
I mean - I can come over. She probably gave it to Ephraim as a "gift" but she'll be crying about it tomorrow morning stg
You haven't moved houses spontaneously in the last three months have you?
Message...

4


MADE BY ANNIE          06:15 PM              32%
   RJC
Hey.  Sorry to bother you, but are you missing a red sippy cup by chance?  Ephraim took one home and he said it was Ruby's
Shit I didn't even notice
*Crap
Lol
Yeah Ruby's been missing her sippy cup, apparently Ruby Sr's been looking for it all afternoon. She can just get it tomorrow at drop off
Oh tomorrow's Saturday uh
Message...

5
Freestyle Archives / Re: et les mots croisés [ dare ]
« on: 11/11/2016 at 04:37 »
Good God, the world felt like a lightweight.

It felt like just him and Ronnie, like they’d been separated and placed in a different plane of existence and they were watching everything else unfurl beneath them. Like they were alabaster, glass, and stone suddenly liquified into mere thought and nothing mattered—except for themselves.

Or maybe they were the lightweights drifting off of this earth. Either way, either any other way, it felt…

Darius blinked, feeling a tremble in the tips of his fingers. Underneath his fingernails there was a tremor, and there was no distinction if it was himself or her or some other force entirely. Because either way…

(It felt beautiful.)

Now the beauty was lost—and then regained in the movement against his right side. Without a care in the world, he draped his arm over her. It was lead, that arm, even when everything else had a white feather touch. Harsh lines against soft, curses and swears collided with comforts, and now it all intertwined like the singular threads in a heavy rope. Everything was together. Everything was what it was supposed to be.

The night dawned on him then. Damn it, was this some type of prank from their cruel world? When they were together so slowly, every precaution taken, everything else was growing and flourishing and tearing at the seams. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

His blue eyes settled on her—he liked the depth of her chocolate brown irises and how they absorbed the rights and wrongs committed by humanity. He liked the way her body shifted in a tender way when comforting a hiccupy first year or second year or, hell, every year. She was kindness incarnate, the embodiment of everything good and warm and feeling. But she was not so soft and plush; yes, Darius had seen it. Seen that iron layer that hid underneath everything that Ronnie Jay Beckham was.

“What are we?”

Why would he want to claw his way to the core and rip out everything that she was when he could have her?

“What do you want us to be?”

Why was she getting this and not a better man?

“Isn’t it getting past curfew?”

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Freestyle Archives / Re: et les mots croisés [ dare ]
« on: 09/28/2016 at 20:11 »
A warm, tender flavor—purely homemade with enough passion to spare and untouched by the industrial, forward-marching habits of man. In confessionals and silent schoolyards, he’d only ever tasted the feminine essence of stainless steel and rogue lipstick—

(Only taken, never thought.)

Alabaster touched glass, the harsh lines of Roman ideals melting into softness and natural beauty. The essence of art laced their lips; their touch was as delicate as paint strokes. As the moment lingered, he wondered if this was the only way he could ever create in his idle dream of blasphemies and mutiny—where the burning in their resisting lungs felt like miracles in Hell and the heavenly beacon that was Ronnie lit that gray world and spun color once more.

"Darius, please..."

But perhaps he was selfish in those thoughts. Darius rolled onto his back, culpability fully revealed, and they laid side-by-side. “Sorry,” he let out in a hoarse whisper. He grasped for the touch of her hand and closed his eyes to forget his mortality. An exhale, solid and sure in its form.

“I wanna ask you a question.”

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