poemsofsplendor:

[K3at5]
I do not know what V/C means, my friend.

[K3at5]
Unfortunately I have to hide offline. Maman has my skype and if she sees that I am online during our neighbor’s Christmas party, she will throw a fit.

They glanced around.

They loved the families that lived nearby. Provence was a beautiful area, they were thankful to be from there, and among such lovely people.

But if there was one thing that Jehan Prouvaire hated most, it was attending Christmas parties.

Especially since the little old couple from next door would always invite the Prouvaires, leaving them knowing no one since it was all family.

So they found themself perched on the couch awkwardly, attempting to sneak on their phone whenever their mother was out of the room.

:: { ℑ⋅ℇ } ─ ─ ─ ::

        Phone in hand, he circles the party,
      spotting a fellow cousin in the kitchen
      and yes– yes, that’s a pretty good spot.
      It’s near the eggnog. Who doesn’t like
      eggnog? He’s quick to reply even whilst
      one handed, tucked into a quiet corner.

       ⎾яєνσℓυтιση⏌
      Videocall? Nevermind.

        ⎾яєνσℓυтιση⏌
      I just needed to have a reason to be on my phone.

        ⎾яєνσℓυтιση⏌ 
      Merry Christmas by the way. Are you done with the dinner already?

       He drains his glass. A little more eggnog.
       Oooh, fried bugnes. His  f a v o r i t e. 
       Most of the faces are familiar in that–
       abstract way, like a second cousin all
       grown up. A year can change a lot of things,
       Enjolras thinks as a bit of his bleached
       hair flops into his eyes to be swept aside.