Velvetysage - Are You Going To Scarborough Fair?

COOPER KOCH for perfect magazine issue 8 2025

DEKOTA THOMPSON via tiktok

she  should  go.  she  knew  that.  her  workout  was  already  mapped  out  in  her  head—every  set,  every  rep—but  standing  there,  his  arms  lazily  draped  around  her,  the  gym  didn’t  feel  quite  as  important.  céleste  curled  her  fingers  loosely  around  the  smoothie,  her  focus  entirely  elsewhere.  the  way  he  lingered,  the  way  his  lips  brushed  against  her  cheek  like  he  wasn’t  quite  ready  to  let  go  either—it  did  something  to  her.  his  laugh  hummed  low  in  his  chest,  settling  over  her  like  something  warm,  something  steady.  and  for  a  moment,  she  forgot  all  about  the  godforsaken  smoothie  she  was  about  to  pretend  didn’t  taste  like  chalk.  his  hand  motioned  toward  the  door,  an  easy,  effortless  gesture  that  brought  another  smile  to  her  lips.  for  the  first  time  in  longer  than  she  could  remember,  the  gym  wasn’t  the  first  thing  occupying  her  mind  in  the  morning.—  she  had  spent  so  long  perfecting  the  art  of  distance,  of  keeping  people  at  arm’s  length,  of  never  letting  herself  sink  too  deep  into  something  that  could  slip  through  her  fingers.  yet,  here  she  was  as  he  opened  the  door  for  her  like  it  was  second  nature—like  looking  after  her  was  something  he  did  without  thought.  and  that  was  the  thing.  it  wasn’t  all  the  grand  gestures  that  bowled  her  over,  it  was  this.  the  small  things,  the  moments  between  moments,  the  effortless  way  he  made  her  feel  like  she  didn’t  have  to  hold  herself  so  tightly  all  the  time.  grabbing  her  car  keys,  she  moved  to  walk  towards  the  door,  standing  before  him,  she  tilted  her  head  slightly,  her  free  hand  reaching  up  to  toy  with  one  of  his  curls,  her  eyes  locking  onto  his  before  instinctively  flickering  to  his  lips.  "you  know,"  she  murmured,  her  fingers  curling  lightly  at  the  nape  of  his  neck,  holding  onto  him  for  just  a  second  longer.  "you're  not  making  it  easy  for  me  to  step  out  this  door."  then,  she  closed  the  space  between  them,  pressing  her  lips  against  his.  the  warmth  of  him  pulled  her  in,  that  familiar  sensation  of  pure  bliss  intoxicating  her  like  second  nature.  she  let  herself  melt  into  him  for  a  moment,  into  the  way  he  made  everything  else  fade  into  the  background.  when  she  finally  pulled  back,  she  let  her  eyes  stay  closed  for  another  second,  savoring  it.  then,  with  a  small  smirk,  she  whispered,  "think  the  leg  press  might  be  upset  if  i  cancel  our  date.  i'll  see  you  when  i  get  back,  yeah?"

the electrifying feeling of her lips against his cheek, was one that he hoped never dulled. he offered her the horrid excuse of a drink with his arms coming to lazily wrap around her. rather than go to the gym (he'd rather drop dead), he would suffer silently with her gone for the time being. "if it's nasty, just don't tell me." he laughs, returning the kiss to her cheek with rose tinted lips lingering before he pulls away to let her go. "let me walk you out." he grabs his hoodie off the back of the couch, tossing it over himself to protect him from the unforgiving winter air. he then made his way to hold the door open for her, his hand coming to motion her.

Someone being patient with you on your bad days is one of the softest forms of love

I’ll put my music on shuffle and be pissed if I don’t get the right song

penny doesn’t respond at first. there’s too much swelling in her chest, too many words tangled somewhere between her ribs and her throat, too much that could come out wrong if she rushes it. she looks at drew — really looks — and it almost breaks her. because despite everything, despite the silence and the confusion and the ache that’s been her constant companion for the past two weeks, she still feels it. that pull. that unshakeable gravity that keeps drawing her back to this person no matter how many times she tries to build walls around her heart. “do you know how cruel it was?” she finally says, voice soft but shaking. “not what you did before. not the past. not the cheating.” a pause. her eyes sting, and she blinks hard, willing the tears to wait. “i’m talking about this. you just — disappeared. without warning. after everything we’ve been through. after all the work i had done to get to a point where i’ve been dancing around the idea of us again. letting you back in..  and i know it wasn’t about me or you trying to hurt me, not directly, but god, drew, it did.” her arms cross, more for grounding than defense. “i gave you space. because i thought maybe something had happened. that maybe you needed time. and i didn’t want to be the person who made it worse by crowding you. but every single day that went by without hearing from you — it started to feel less like you needed space and more like you’d decided i didn’t need to be kept. like you’d just… left. again.” she shakes her head, correcting herself. “no. not again. because you don’t do that. you don’t disappear. not like this. that’s why it hurt so much. because it’s not who you are — at least not who i thought you were anymore.”

she swallows the lump in her throat, pushing forward before the emotion chokes her off completely. “and then you walk in here like a hurricane in parkers flannel and a bandeau, making jokes and sniffing candles, like my brain hasn’t been chewing itself alive. i thought something happened to you, drew. i thought maybe everything that has happened lately was something you started to regret and you just didn’t know how to say it. or worse — that you were hurting and didn’t think you could come to me. that part nearly destroyed me.” she sinks back onto the couch, her knees pulled up, arms wrapping around them. “i don’t want to keep doing this push-and-pull every time life gets hard. i don’t want to be an afterthought, or a burden, or the person who gets left behind when everything gets too loud. i want to be someone you trust enough to stay with — even when it’s messy. especially when it’s messy.” a breath. “i believe in second chances, drew. i believe people can change. that they do change. and i let you back in because i felt like we were building something again. something good. something real. and i want to believe that wasn’t just me romanticizing the ruins. i want to believe this still matters to you.” she finally looks up at her again, eyes tired but clear. “but i need you to be honest with me. not just tonight. not just when it’s dramatic and everything’s falling apart. i need you to show up — and stay. because i don’t know how to give any less than all of me. and if i do that again… i need to know you won’t go quiet. and i need to know i’m not making the biggest mistake of my life when i say that i will always, wholeheartedly be yours. after everything, you’re all i want and all i’ll ever want.”

drew’s hands tremble, unknowing if it’s from the weight of the confession penny has just laid bare or the excruciating clarity that comes with hearing everything penny’s been carrying. she's not ignorant to burdens she causes, the mess she leaves in her wake. but to be reminded of her shortcomings never gets easier. her chest tightens, suffocating her under the heavy truth of it all. she wants to speak, wants to apologize, to make it right somehow -- but the words feel too small, too useless in the face of what she’s done. instead, all she can do is look at penny, the rawness of the moment cutting deeper than any act of harm she could have committed against herself. penny's words are still ringing in her ears, each one heavier than the last, and drew can feel the guilt gnawing at her. it makes her want to bolt again. but she can’t. no more coward's game.

"i'm not going to lie to you. not anymore." this isn't a bullshit vow. not a promise that be seamlessly debunked in a day's time but rather an opening line to her inner monologue. "what i expect from you is for you to worry. that's what you do. you drown yourself in baths, and tea, and candles, and wicked, and worry. i expect that. i also expect the tears. cruelly, i expect the forgiveness. i know it doesn't come easily but it always does with time. it's fucked up for me to expect it. but that's just who you are." drew rubs the day's old mascara from her eyes. she likely looks exhausted, defeated by the repercussions of her own actions. penny's plush sofa has never looked so comfortable. everything about this place makes her haunted. no wonder each time she returns she's reminded of her mistakes.

and all of her expectations are proven right at penny's confession. the words sound like they're being spoken in a chapel. soft, asking for forgiveness for the sin of being too forgiving. it feels like they're in an alcoholic's anonymous meeting. except penny is addicted to drew -- and drew is addicted to fucking up. drew’s eyes flicker back up to penny’s, and for the first time in a long time, there’s no deflection, no shields, just the painful truth. "i don’t know how to fix this. i don’t know how to fix me. but, i’m here. i know i disappeared --" drew releases a breath she'd been holding on account of penny's words. she wouldn't have been surprised if her features had washed purple. "but you're so brilliant. i read all the playbill reviews and i was fuckin' smiling ear to ear. because to know you - to see you is to be absolutely enamored by you. how am i ever supposed to feel like i deserve you when i've never done one thing right?" the distance between them closes as drew crosses the floor, lacing a stray hair behind penny's ear. "you're a star, pen. you don't need me to tell you that. but you need to believe it yourself. you need to believe that you deserve more than this." white teeth chew and fiddle nervously at her lower lip. "but on the off chance, you do realize it and make the reckless decision to love me anyways. i'm here. i'll always be here. even if it's by carrier pigeon or up in the god damn sky, i'm here. and i'm yours. even if you're not mine."

remember that there is a person behind the screen. you are not writing with an AI chatbot; you are writing with a real person with a life outside of the blog, with friends and family, responsibilities, work and school, health issues, etc. real life comes first. jobs come first. you are not being paid to be here, and neither are they. this is not an AI chat bot with instant replies; this is a person. remember to be mindful of their responsibilities and irl obligations and be kind.

okay  friends  ,  i  am  finally  trying  to  get  started  here  on  indie  after  quite  a  few  years  of  being  off  the  indie  scene.  but  i  am  honestly  thrilled  to  get  back  into  the  swing  of  things.  as  said  ,  it's  taken  me  quite  some  time  to  get  started  and  these  days  i  barely  know  how  to  get  started  again  ——  that  being  said  …  consider  this  a  PLOTTING  CALL  !  !  !  !  !  !

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .   sooooo  ,  if  you  would  possibly  be  interested  in  writing  together  —  like  this  and  i  will  contact  to  potentially  write  together.  ♥

okay  .  .  .  catch  me  actually  working  on  my  proper  muses  page  tonight  and  hopefully  posting  and  replying  to  some  open  starters  !  !  !