i knew it was cruel to be so optimistic , but , in my solitude , i couldn't resist the urge to spend my days basking in idiotic fantasies , verging on prayers .
⠀ 🧩 .
(⠀ she's not voting.⠀ can't vote, that raw emotion isn't something someone like wifies can just Fake.
it's real.
it hurts.
she wishes she could have done more to help.⠀ she watches the contestants.⠀ something is wrong here. )
🧩 .
( if he didn’t speak before… should he speak now?
all he can do is stare. at the two figures standing so close, at his friends. his mouth opens, then closes again, the motion useless betraying his words.
is this cowardice?
maybe it is. or maybe she simply isn’t as excited as she’d claimed—had convinced herself—to be.
she swallows, gaze flickering away for just a moment.
better to be safe than sorry. that's what she tells herself, anyway. )
⠀ 🧩 .
(⠀ he doesn't Want to let go, not when wifies clearly Desperately needs Someone.
hand clings to wifies, even as she's dragged away.⠀ before it finally parts from distance.
ears flat against head, tail flicks against floor.
they have to stop their claws from retracting—⠀ " the original "⠀ preventing a scoff.
glaring.⠀ fine, she'll "play" the part and stay at their podium.
prevention does little effort.⠀ claws out.⠀ digging into podium.