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wolvescried · 5 years

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☪,✿

✿ five times my muse almost texted yours, and the one time they did.

[ outgoing: sunshine ☀️ 9:36 am ] how badly should someone stuff their face with footlong meatball subs until i forget him?? asking for a friend UNSENT

[ outgoing: sunshine ☀️ 1:21 am ] hE’S HHEEERRe OH GDO WHTA DO I DOOOOO SUNNY PLES gte me OOT UNSENT

[ outgoing: sunshine ☀️ 4:12 pm ] do u think i’m a bad friend/student?? i just deleted all of my groupmate’s work bc she called me an attention seeker and i really hated that UNSENT

[ outgoing: sunshine ☀️ 7:44 pm ] sometimes i remember when we dated for fun way back when and wonder if we actually stuck it out?? might have saved us from fuckin heartbreak UNSENT

[ outgoing: sunshine ☀️ 12:58 am ] i’m seeing someone. i don’t know if you’ll approve but i’ve never told anyone but oh my god sunny i’ve been so happy lately i might explode UNSENT

[ outgoing: sunshine ☀️ 12:40 pm ] ur lunchtime reminder that i love u most ❤️❤️❤️

☪ five times our muses almost hold hands, and the one time they do.

i. they’re in elementary when they first meet, sunlight streaming through the windows as he steps in. he waves goodbye, tightening his fingers around the straps of his backpack. the day, he feels, goes by fairly smoothly until they’re asked to partner up; and ezra, being the social butterfly, turns to ask people if they’d like to be his partner. but they’re all too fast, and he seems to be the one left behind. he’s about to sink into a corner and cry when a girl comes towards him, asks him to be partners. he jumps up excitedly, and almost reaches for the girl’s hands. “thank you!” he says, beaming. “you’re the coolest. i’m ezra.”

ii. “i’m not holding your hand, sunny,” he insists, sticking his nose in the air. ezra, age ten, had been told that girls had what they called cooties, though he isn’t exactly sure what it is. (and okay, he’s a few years late, but no one tells him that.) “you’re my best friend and all, but the boys in the bathroom say that have girls have cooties. whatever it is.” this is hard because ezra’s a hugger, and he’s believed that every inch of his body is made for hugs, hand holding, that kind of thing. but he also wants to be cool, so the kids stop making fun of his pudgy cheeks or how his hair makes him look like he stuck his finger in a socket. and because he’s so full of hugs and love, his fingers accidentally brush against sunny’s. it takes him ten seconds to realize why the other boys are staring at him, and then — right. “oh!” he cries, dramatically falling to the floor. “i’ve been struck! by cooties! my soul is leaving my body!”

that afternoon, his parents march him over to the knox’s, with a box of chocolates and a very carefully thought-out apology which he, in true ezra park fashion, announces in a way that would have shakespeare rolling in his grave.

iii. they’re thirteen and sitting on ezra’s bed, resting comfortably on his star wars sheets, and he’s nervous. they’re listening to the radio and he hears that one rihanna song about california and king beds, the one he’s been shamelessly rewinding on his ipod. “hey, sunny, you ever think of your first kiss or some crap like that?” he blurts out. “’cause... i don’t know. everyone keeps talking about it and i just... wonder.” he’s never had his yet — because cheek kisses definitely don’t count — and if it’s possible, he’d like it to be with someone he cares about. he doesn’t know where to put his hands: he reaches out for hers, fingertips touching hers, before they rest on his lap.

“but anyway, it’s stupid, right?” an awkward chuckle follows, and right after he speaks, the song on the radio changes.

iv. they’re in their ‘dating’ phase and ezra still isn’t sure where to put his hands. it feels weird having sunny as his girlfriend when she’s his best friend first and foremost; he loves her but not in the way people (read: his parents) thought. it takes them a while before they actually change from gripped hands to intertwined fingers, though there are still moments where he takes her by the hand or wrist. take for example, this one date they’re on, where they both reach into the popcorn tub at the same time. ezra, always the taker, scoops up a handful of popcorn, only to feel that he’s grabbed sunny’s wrist instead. thank god for the dim lighting of the cinema, because his face is beet red when he realizes his grip’s a little too hard and a little too eager. “sorry, sunny,” he says with an awkward chuckle, dropping her wrist gently and waiting for her to get her fill before taking his.

v. overabundance of party streamers aside, ezra decides prom night isn’t so bad. he hasn’t spilled anything over the fancy suit his parents had bought him just for this, and there’s two more hours to go, so he considers that a victory. he’s a little high on sugar from the punch, so he’s jumping around all the time, but of course a slow song comes along and he finds himself shouting over the music just to ask sunny to dance. first he reaches for her hand, but stops himself to laugh, because that’s just not how they do it. instead, he places his hands on her waist, gently, a big smile on his face.

vi. college? a whole other ball game. “this is, like, it,” he says, ever the philosopher as they sit in the quad, the sun hanging in the sky. “it’s weird, i’m not scared or anything. but i’ll be counting down the days until i inevitably fuck it all up.” he’d rather not wait for it, not when he’s trying his damndest to figure it out, but he’ll get through it. hopefully. a teasing smile on his face, ezra reaches over to slide his fingers in between sunny’s, gently patting the top of her hand with his free one. “but you’ll be okay. i know you will, sunny. if anyone can get through this, it’s you, and you better believe it.”

#hcneylcves #( ✗ take off your armor and let your skin breathe / answered. )#this is late i'm soRRY #but pls enjoy my rendition of the sunny/ezra bff timeline thank u

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