Adam Farnsworth

Howdy! The name's Adam Farnsworth. Pie maker extraordinare at The Pie Hole, and. . . Well, that's actually just it. I bake pies — pretty much.

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

IMAGE PROMPT: [Image] — ▿ —

CHARACTERS ▿ Adam Farnsworth, Gene Cooper TIME FRAME ▿ A few months into their relationship LOCATION ▿ Adam and Cooper’s apartment WARNINGS ▿ None WORD COUNT ▿ 1,011

The sound of Cooper’s guitar was enough to make Adam smile his usual goofy smile, but it was the way his boyfriend concentrated on what he was doing, and the way that he responded to his touches nonetheless, that made him grin for ear to ear and nuzzle against Cooper’s neck. Adam merely closed his eyes to take in the sincerity of their moment: the smell of Cooper’s skin that filled his nose; the honesty of the smile that painted his lips and the softness of the glare that painted Cooper’s; and the way that their bodies were so attuned with one another, with Cooper’s back to Adam’s chest, Adam’s hand on his knee, and his lips grazing the line of Cooper’s neck. With no other person had Adam been able to do this before; with no other person had he felt so wholly whole just by the quiet of their breaths that interacted with one another. Adam Farnsworth had not had many lovers in his lifetime -- lovers that stayed beyond the night; lovers that stayed for anything other than sex --, but he could already tell in the deepest of his bones and the certainty of his soul that Cooper was not like the others. If he believed in soulmates, then Cooper would be his; if he believed in The One, the Cooper would be that.

Adam Farnsworth was not young enough to believe in any of these things anymore. He was thirty now -- turning thirty-one --, and so different from the tall, lanky boy he once was when he was only sixteen years old. There were lots of things that had come and gone with his age: responsibilities he had to take on now that he was older, freedom that he now had that he didn’t have before, boundaries that he could once cross but now no longer, beliefs that he once had -- like believing in soulmates; like believing in The One -- that had faded in time as he aged. There was a giddiness in him that had gone, too: the kind that lost its touch once one reached eighteen and realized that the world was not as kind as they thought it was when they were only twelve. He no longer had the privilege of youth, the naivety of having the whole world at his feet, and the readiness to take anything on head first and without fear.

Yet, being with Cooper inspired within Adam all these juvenile feelings he had not thought to still have within him. When his boyfriend kissed him, or took his hand, or looked at him with that familiar soft glare on his features, it was like Adam returned to being the seventeen year old he once was -- complete with butterflies in his stomach, and a giddiness to his smile, and the innocence of being in love. But Cooper inspired something else within him, too: the parts of him that have now matured. As much as the butterflies within him raged on, and as much as he felt like a giddy seventeen year old when his hands were in Cooper’s, Adam was no longer that in reality; Adam was no longer young, and he no longer kept his future in the hands of the unknown as he lived life without caring for the consequences of his every action. No, he was thirty; he was thirty, and he had his future mapped out before him, certain and secure and concrete. And, in all of them, he saw Cooper with him, loving him, just as he saw himself loving Cooper in return.

Maybe it was too early. It had only been a few months since he and Cooper had been together, and one might say that Adam was thinking far too quickly ahead. One might even say that Adam was simply intoxicated by the freshness of their love. But Adam didn’t care. He was certain of what he wanted, and had been since the first day that he told Cooper he loved him. Moments like these -- moments in which he had the chance to experience Cooper as Cooper, moments so wholly intimate and real and wonderful -- only strengthened his certainty; it only fed the burning desire he had within him that knew he wanted to love Cooper for so long as he had life. There was no fear where others said there should be; there was no doubt where others doubted what he and Cooper had. Maybe it was a juvenile way to be -- or maybe it was entirely mature. In either case, Adam was who Adam was; and who he was then and there was wholly and truly in love with Cooper.

As the song that Cooper was playing came to an end, Adam lifted his head from where he nuzzled against his boyfriend, bringing his lips to meet Cooper’s in a soft, gentle kiss. The smile had had bloomed when their lips met, and bloomed some more when their lips parted, so that he could show Cooper how happy he felt in that moment. Slowly, Adam lifted one of his hands to cup Cooper’s cheeks, and there he began to stroke with his thumb. “I love you, you know that, right?” he said, his voice as sincere as their moment. He had a lot to say that he had not yet told Cooper, and the calmness of their moment made him open his mouth to tell Cooper of the important parts. “I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, you know? I know, I know, it’s too early or whatever, but”--Adam licked his lips--”but I love you, and I just know things. I just know I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you. And you don’t have to say anything in return. You don’t have to say you’ll do the same. Just listen. Just allow me to say that I love you, and I will continue loving you indefinitely, because I do and I will.”

[psych-facts]

I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.

Lisa Kleypas, Blue-Eyed Devil

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

IMAGE PROMPT: [Image] — ▿ —

CHARACTERS ▿ Adam Farnsworth, Gene Cooper TIME FRAME ▿ Present day, 24 Oct 2014 LOCATION ▿ Adam and Cooper’s apartment WARNINGS ▿ THE POST UNDER THE CUT AND THE PHOTO LINKED ARE NSFW. WORD COUNT ▿ 1,139

It had only been a week since the eighteenth, the fateful day on which Adam and Cooper’s relationship changed, but since then, Adam had already found a hundred billion and one things that had improved. It did not matter if no one else could see it; it did not matter if no one else thought there were improvements, to Adam, being able to sleep in the same bed as Cooper night after night after night was an improvement on its own. This meant that gone were the nights where his chest ached with so much yearning for the other man to be on the bed beside him. Gone, too, was the fear that he would get every time he would kiss and hold and touch Cooper. Now, he could do so to the fullest of his affections without being scared that it would push Cooper away. Gone was the fear of rejection whenever he would tell Cooper he loved him, for behind the soft glare that the man always wore, and behind the tiny frown that would remain on his forehead, Adam knew that Cooper loved him back.

That, to Adam, was the greatest improvement of it all. If anyone else could look at Cooper, and know within their hearts that he loved them back, then they would understand. It was still a wonder how he could make Cooper happy, and it was still a wonder why Cooper had fallen in love with him, but these were wonders of the world that even Adam did not seek to answer. They just were. That was how Adam understood; he needed no explanation to others, and he needed no explanation to himself. He just allowed it to fill him with complete utter joy; to color his smiles with the love that he felt burning in his chest; to put the skip in his step as he went on with his day. It did not matter if anyone else saw; all that matter was that he felt it, and that Cooper felt it. And by god did Adam sure feel it. He felt the happiness of loving and being loved in return permeate his bones; he felt it every morning, when he woke up next to the man whose heart was his home. He knew, somehow, despite what anyone could say, and the anger that had made itself home in Cooper’s heart too, that Cooper felt it as well.

This particular Saturday morning was no different. Despite having woken up without his boyfriend by his side -- as was the consequence of waking up three hours later than usual --, Adam felt the usual joy that accompanied him in the morning. There came a moment where he merely sighed to himself a happy sigh, the kind that couldn’t quite believe that sleeping on Cooper's bed was something he could do every night rather than just on the nights that they had had sex. The moment was short, though, and Adam finally brought himself to stand and walk out of the room just as he was: with nothing but his underwear on Their romantic relationship might have just started, but their physical one had begun about a year ago that Adam now felt comfortable enough with his own body to be around Cooper in such a manner. There was no shame in walking around the apartment almost naked while searching for his boyfriend now, just as there was no shame in getting ready to attack his boyfriend with kisses once he was found.

The sound of the shower from the bathroom gave way to Cooper's location, though; and thus, Adam quickly found himself knocking on the bathroom door with the eagerness to give his boyfriend a morning hug before he started his day. It was this eagerness that made him try for the doorknob; and the same eagerness that made him walk into the bathroom without even so much as an announcement once he found out it was unlocked. Nothing but the sound of the closing door made Adam's entry known -- but even that was enough to catch Cooper's attention, and bring a whole parade of curses to sail from his lips. The glare he had on his face intensified with his every word, but to all of it, Adam only managed a weak and sheepish smile in return. But, see, there was a similarity in their expressions: both spoke of the giddiness of being in love. It was far more obvious on Adam's smile, but if one looked closely enough -- if one looked so close so as to see the softness in Cooper's glare, and the smile barely tugging on the corners of his lips --, they would see that Cooper, too, embodied it.

"I can't believe you took a shower without me," Adam said simply after Cooper had cursed him for walking in while he was taking a shower. It was not enough that he ignored everything that Cooper said heretofore with his words; Adam, in light of ignoring whatever Cooper said, begun taking off his underwear as he spoke. "I can't believe you didn't wake me up to shower with me. I thought that was what boyfriends were supposed to do. Shower with each other. Have shower sex. Make out." The sheepish smile on his lips grew with his every word, but by the time that his underwear was cast off to the side, it had been replaced by a cheekier smile. And this smile remained on Adam's lips as he walked towards Cooper. There was a glint of love and of lust that emanated from his eyes and lightened his whole countenance, including the smile that was on his lips, but Adam said nothing about it -- it said enough for itself.

As for Cooper, the glare never left his features, but it did soften once his boyfriend approached him. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, but it was so small that one could not say it ever truly blossomed. Adam didn't mind, though; when he stepped towards Cooper, and Cooper immediately put his arms around him, that was enough for him to know that he was not mad or angry or in objection to all this. Adam had always known that Cooper did not show much, and he did not expect that he would start showing more any time soon, but in the moments that he did -- in the moments that he would say he loved Adam, or reach out to hold him, or give even the smallest of small smiles --, Adam would make sure to treasure what he did give. There was not a part of Cooper that Adam would not want; there was not a part of Cooper that Adam could bring himself to reject.

[fuckyeah-char-dev]

ENFJ: the Mentor

ENFJs are externally focused, introspective, altruistic, positive and have excellent people skills. They place utmost importance on helping others grow. They are warm and have a natural desire to be supportive and encouraging. Being charismatic and possessing excellent language skills, they do well in leadership roles. ENFJs strive to enhance the lives of their human brethren.

STRENGTHS

Good verbal communication skills.

Very perceptive about people’s thoughts and motives.

Motivational, inspirational; bring out the best in others.

Warmly affectionate and affirming.

Fun to be with - lively sense of humour, dramatic, energetic, optimistic.

Good money skills.

Able to “move on” after a love relationship has failed (although they blame themselves).

Loyal and committed - they want lifelong relationships.

Strive for “win-win” situations.

Driven to meet other’s needs.

WEAKNESSES

Tendency to be smothering and over-protective.

Tendency to be controling and/or manipulative.

Don’t pay enough attention to their own needs.

Tend to be critical of opinions and attitudes which don’t match their own.

Sometimes unaware of social appropriateness or protocol.

Extremely sensitive to conflict, with a tendency to sweep things under the rug as an avoidance tactic.

Tendency to blame themselves when things go wrong, and not give themselves credit when things go right.

Their sharply defined value systems make them unbending in some areas.

They may be so attuned to what is socially accepted or expected that they’re unable to assess whether something is “right” or “wrong” outside of what their social circle expects.

Read More

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Please Stay ▿ Self

CHARACTERS ▿ Adam Farnsworth, Gene Cooper TIME FRAME ▿ A few weeks before their relationship LOCATION ▿ Adam and Cooper's apartment WARNINGS ▿ Implied sex, nudity, cursing WORD COUNT ▿ 822

One, two, three. Four. Five. Sixseveneight. Nine, ten. Ten seconds. It took ten seconds for the sound of thunder to roll in after the flash of lightning cracked through the lone window in Adam’s room. Again, and again, and again, lightning flashed, and thunder roared -- always ten seconds away from one another, never any less and never any more. It was like clockwork: like the way Adam’s breaths followed the beats of Cooper’s as they lay on rumpled bed covers, skin to skin, and heart to heart, and -- god -- soul to soul even if they dared not admit it. It was the way the world worked, the precision of the galaxy to which there could be no objection, for it was the way it was: like the way Adam’s fingertips hovered over the chest of the man he loved, it was right; it felt right, like it needed no explanation, like it was just the way it was.

But Adam did have an explanation -- this much he understood. It was a secret he carried deep, one that lay in the bottom of his heart like an anchor grounding him to the man that lay beside him. It was an anchor that prevented him from drowning, drowning, drowning, but all the same made him feel like he was falling, falling, falling straight into Cooper’s arms, straight into everything Cooper wants him to be, straight into everything that he was willing to be so that Cooper would love him. The secret was a word, too, a feeling -- but not one that Adam had the courage to say with his lips. Nevertheless, he spelled it out -- not with letters, but with skin against skin. He put the letter L on Cooper’s tongue, when their lips met, and their breaths tangled; the letter O on Cooper’s chest, where his heart lay, and where Adam’s longed to be; the letter V on Cooper’s hip, where Adam’s hand settled, and his grip tightened; then, finally, the letter E, between Cooper’s thighs, where Adam’s lips were willing to travel, if Cooper so asked him.

(This was the only way he knew how to say it.)      (This was the only way he quite knew how to be.)

The weight of the word dawned heavy upon Adam, but he was as silent as silent could be. Instead, he leaned into Cooper, nuzzled into his neck, and hoped against hope against hope that the letters he hid on Cooper’s skin would one day come to make sense. At the moment, they didn’t. At the moment, they were nothing but jumbled up letters without a word to make. At the moment, he was Adam, and this man here beside him was Cooper -- he was Adam, and he was laying with Cooper, his best friend, his roommate. This was all they were, and his chest ached with how much it mattered; how much he wanted Cooper to be more than just another man in his bed; how much he wanted Cooper to love him, love him, love him as much as they had sex, as raw and as real as when they fucked each other. This was all they were, but he had hope to believe that one day they might become something more.

For now, he basked in their silence. For now, Adam closed his eyes, put one hand on Cooper’s cheeks, and kissed Cooper’s neck. For now, he would take what he had, and he would appreciate it. “Please stay,” Adam said instead of the three words he wanted to say. It was not quite a request close enough -- there was so much more that Adam wanted to say, so much more to what he felt as opposed to the words that he did say --, but it was the closest he could get. He leaned in, breathed the smell of Cooper’s skin, and then said again, “Please stay.” The request was followed by a trail of kisses down Cooper’s neck to his chest: soft, gentle kisses that did not want anything in return bar that Cooper would consider heeding Adam’s request.

One, two, three. Four. Five. Sixseveneight. Nine, ten. Ten seconds. Ten seconds. It took ten seconds for Adam to hear his answer. In these ten seconds, Cooper’s arms tightened around him, thus pulling them closer to one another, though there was no longer a gap between their skin; his breath hitched in his throat with every one of Adam’s kisses; and his frown lessened in intensity, (though remain it did, as it always was with Cooper’s frowns). Adam almost didn’t need Cooper to say the words, because by being silent, he had already answered. Yet, nevertheless, Cooper said, “I’ll stay.” He said it like it was of no question. He said it like there had been no need to ask in the first place. “Of course, you fucking nerd, I’ll stay.”

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Strong ▿ Adamper

This was the essence of a fact, and the very reason that a fact remained a fact: that it was true, whether or not people chose to acknowledge or act on it; that it was permanent in all circumstances, and for all circumstances. A fact did not care whether or not anyone believed in it -- it just was, and undisputedly so! It was a thing never-changing, right in all ways, and unquestionable. Facts were facts, and they did not change. And here was one -- one that Adam had known for quite some time now, but had kept to himself for he was unsure of what it meant; one that he was willing to share now, despite all that it might risk and put on the line; one that he was willing to open his heart to, even if it meant the biggest rejection he would ever face yet: he was in love with Cooper. Yes, Cooper. Cooper who frowned at most of what he did. Cooper who locked himself in his room when he didn’t want to speak. Cooper who cursed at the littlest things. Cooper who might not be able to love him, because it was not of people like Cooper to love people like Adam. But Adam loved Cooper with all of his heart, maybe even more than what his heart could give: this was a fact.

If anyone had asked Adam a year ago if he had speculated this at all, the only answer would have been that he thought nothing of his roommate. Cooper had just been another man in his bed, like all the others that had come before him, and all the others that would come after. And yet. And yet. There had been a tiny exchange between their hearts: a secret pressed between their lips in kisses, etched on skin against skin throughout the whole time they were together, planting itself to the very foundations of Adam’s heart so softly that even he had not noticed it. It had only been a whisper, then; now it had turned into an explosion so loud that Adam could not keep it within himself. A part of him knew that it wasn’t supposed to end up like this. Their relationship was never supposed to grow, never supposed to turn into something else other than what became of them in between sheets, and yet for Adam, it had become all of what it was never supposed to be.

He dared to believe that Cooper might feel it too, though odds against odds against odds told him that he was not the kind of person that people like Cooper fell in love with. Maybe he was putting too much hope on himself; maybe he was putting too much belief in what might not be, but Adam dared to risk it. What would he be, if he dared not risk all for the truth that he felt? If the chance that Cooper did not feel the same way were so great that it became true, then at least Adam had given himself the chance to try and shoot for the greatest feeling he’d ever felt in his whole life. And that was a better option, wasn’t it? It was a better choice to shoot for the stars and fall flat, than to aim for nothing and attain it. It was a better choice to show Cooper that he loved him and get rejected, than to live in silence forever not knowing whether or not he and Cooper would be beautiful together. Adam was no longer the lanky high school sophomore hiding in locker rooms so he could be with his boyfriend, after all! He was thirty -- goddamned thirty -- and what could be said of him if he chose to hide the same way he did fifteen years ago?

It was decided then, that the end to all his hiding would be on a particular Saturday morning. The eighteenth of October would always be just another Saturday to everyone else, but for Adam, it was the Saturday that he would stop loving Cooper in silence. It was up to Cooper what he would make of it; it was up to Cooper to decide whether the eighteenth would forever be a sad or joyous memory, but this was a fact: Adam awoke that morning with a smile on his face nonetheless, knowing that all he had planned out for the day would be right. Things would be right -- not perfect. Things didn’t have to be perfect -- they just had to be right. A plethora of things could go out of plan that day, but Adam knew that by the end of it, if he managed to say what he needed to say to Cooper, then all would be right. He hoped they would go one way rather than the other -- that Cooper would share his feelings rather than reject them --, but if at the end of it all, Cooper was happy with whatever choice he would make, then Adam would be all right; all would be right. For so long as Cooper was happy, then Adam would be okay.

Thankfully, though, not a lot went out of plan. Adam was able to bake a pie for Cooper, buy chocolates and flowers from a shop across his, and then come home to their apartment, hide all these things, and cook an omelette for Cooper because he knew that that was what Cooper loved. There were moments that his nerves did get to him, making him remember how he hadn’t done this for anyone in a long time, and making him rethink the way he was to present his feelings for Cooper -- for surely, this was old news, wasn’t it? Surely, people these days had better ways to confess their love to one another, what with technology and all, right? --, but Adam pushed through with his plan. He pushed through, and made it in front of Cooper’s door late in the morning, with a box of pie in one hand, chocolates atop the box, flowers on his other hand, and an omelette for Cooper waiting on the table.

It was only when he was there in front of the door, with nothing but wood now separating him from Cooper, did the nerves really kick in, though. All the nervousness that he felt as he prepared all he was holding for his roommate -- god, roommate? What an odd word to use on someone that he was madly in love with! -- did not compare to what he felt right at that moment. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest -- both in the fear of whatever Cooper’s answer would be, and in the excitement of just telling Cooper how he felt. The two emotions moved inside him, but did not wage a war like he would have expected. Instead, they danced; fear and excitement danced within him, like they were two complementary feelings that could not go without the other. He had to stand there for a moment to try and regain himself, before he finally knocked on the door to face the turning point of his day -- Cooper.

Cooper did not know it, but he had all the power, then. With just one word, with just one look, with just one sign from him at all, either one of the two emotions dancing within Adam would take control of the other, and the rest of  his coming weeks would be dictated by this moment. As Adam waited for his knocks to be met, everything within him came to a standstill, like every fiber of his being was holding its breath; like every portion of him was put on hold from the moment that his knuckles left the door, to the moment that the door was opened before him to show the man that he loved standing on the other side. Then, the breath was relieved when Cooper opened the door. Once the familiar sight of him met Adam, it was like the clockwork mechanics of his mind began to work again, reminding him of the reason he was on Cooper’s doorstep anyway. But he did not find his words immediately. There was a stunned silence from his side of the door that only gave way for the sound of his breath hitching in his throat at the sight of Cooper.

“Cooper,” Adam said after a few beats, when he finally when he composed himself. “Don’t-- um-- don’t say anything yet. I, uh-- I, um-- I have something to tell you. Important. I mean-- I mean I have something important to tell. You. To tell you.” With that, he thrust the bouquet of flowers he held towards Cooper, waiting to see if the man would accept it and hear him out, or reject it and take away his chance to speak altogether. The way that Adam’s hand shook might be of notice, but to himself, to him whose everything shook at the moment, to him who was looking at the man he loved, to him who was to admit to Cooper how deeply in love he was, it was an unimportant detail.

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

I don't  k n o w  how --     -- I want to  l o v e  you, but I don't  k n o w  how.

[veranovodvorskaya-deactivated20]

Necessary Evils ▿ Vera & Adam

[veranovodvorskaya-deactivated20]

Vera had no idea what the actually make of this situation. She knew that, technically, she had been in the wrong a week ago. She’d been scatterbrained and hadn’t been paying attention to what she had been doing, and she’d hit someone with her car because of it. Of course, as far as she could see, there had been no permanent damage and that was where everything had come to a collision. Not the actual accident itself, but this man’s apparent inability to understand that nothing had actually happened and that, despite the fact that Vera was sorry, she wasn’t sorry for things that hadn’t happened.

It was a problem with Vera. It always had been. She didn’t care for social niceties, and most of the time she just plain didn’t understand them. She knew that there was something off about herself. Even her mother and father had known it. Hell, her half-brother’s father and step-mother knew it. There was something very wrong with the way that Vera took things, although psychiatrists and counsellors had comforted her parents by assuring them that Vera was perfectly healthy and perfectly normal, and that her social skills would develop with time. They hadn’t and she had outright refused to go to a psychiatrist for something that she thought was perfectly fine.

Her issue with understanding emotions and humanity, human nature and interactions, tended to land her in hot water. While she could understand the man’s angry and upset over being the victim of an accident, she couldn’t understand what got him so worked up when nothing had actually happened. Vera could have dealt with something that had actually happened. If she had seriously injured him, she could relent, bend and stop being so stubborn about it, but since that didn’t happen, she didn’t see a point. Why apologize for something that never happened?

Vera paused, fingers pulling a handle of her purse off her shoulder, blinking dumbly at the woman. She didn’t think anyone had spoken to her that way aside from her mother. Never her father, of course, because Maxim Novodvorskay wouldn’t be seen actually getting worked up over something as silly as discipline. Considering Vera was pretty sure her father had been raised with corporal punishment, she thought that might have been a good thing. Still, it was more than puzzling – completely confounding, really – to be spoken to in that tone by a total stranger. The woman couldn’t have been much younger than Vera was but she spoke like a mother. Vera wasn’t sure what to make of it.

She stared after the woman as she moved away before looking back to the man, lips pressing into a thin line while she looked him over. He was still mad. She could practically feel it radiating off of him, with the way he didn’t look at her and his clipped words. Vera still didn’t understand what he was so mad about. It wasn’t as if she’d run over his legs and left him crippled. She was fairly certain she’d barely bumped him. Worse things could have happened, yes, but they hadn’t.

Delving her hand into her purse, she plucked out her wallet – leather and silver buckled, a gift from her mother before she had left for America – and popped the tab open, a frown tugging at her eyebrows. She still had no idea what to make of what was going on. She hadn’t expected to see the man again, hadn’t expected to be chided like she was a child again, told to make nice with someone she didn’t really want to. It was her day off. She had expected to do nothing of importance, not get into it with her almost-victim from the week before.

Vera handed over a crisp, ten dollar bill, glancing towards where the woman had moved to before looking back to the man. “Is she always so…?” Vera trailed off, still frowning. She wasn’t even sure herself which word the woman was. Motherly, in that scary, do-what-I-say-or-else way, but there wasn’t a word for that in English that Vera could pick out of her head. “Never mind,” she said after a moment, shaking her head. That train of thought wasn’t going to go anywhere good.

While she had dealt with a lot of things in her life, this wasn’t one of them. It made her feel as though she were walking on a tightrope, arms outstretched to keep her balance and toes pointed to keep her from falling, but she kept slipping and sliding over the rope, only to catch herself a moment before she stumbled. It wasn’t something Vera was used to. Vera was used to knowing what to do, how to deal with situations and how to gain the most out of them. It had always suited her well in a situation like school or a lab, where she was constantly competing with people for the top spot, always vying to be number one and please whichever authority figure was around. She was a kiss-ass and she knew it, but she didn’t mind. She got things done and got to the places she wanted to be because of it. The only problem was figuring out how to turn that setting off when she wasn’t at work.

She cleared her throat. Clearly the woman had wanted them to talk. She’d said as much. Vera could humour her, if only for a moment. Having the option to turn around and march her ass out was always a good confidence booster. “I take it you’re fine?” she asked, eyes levelled on the man’s face.

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

It was not a difficult thing: to know what you wanted, and yet not quite how to acquire it. Adam Farnsworth had lived long enough to know that he could find ways -- and if not, then that he could build them. That had always been the kind of person he was, and the kind of person he assumed he would always be. No hoop was too small for him to jump through, no beam too high to climb, no fire too hot to handle; with Adam Farnsworth, there was always a way, even when there was none. It was one of those things he liked about himself, if he could like anything about himself at all; it was one of those things that he would like others to remember about him, if others would remember him at all. Everyone had a redeeming quality, and maybe this was Adam’s. It had proof, too. See his pie shop: it was the product of everything he’d worked for his whole life, and for seven years, it stood proud.

However, it became quite a difficult thing when people became involved. Adam had first realized it when he was sixteen and searching for a connection to the biological father he could never know nor meet. His stepfather had been the person involved then, and ah! how much more difficult finding ways around him had been! There was the hiding, and with it the excuses he had had to make. There were the lies he had had to make, and then the secrets he had had to keep. It was difficult then, and it was not any less difficult now, fourteen years and a whole different scenario later.

Adam Farnsworth was thirty years old -- far, far away from sixteen --, and yet when he looked at Cooper, felt that feeling in his chest go down to his stomach, then go straight back up to his heart, he felt quite like the same teenage boy who knew what he wanted but didn’t quite know how to voice it out loud. His words would tangle in his mouth, and his heart would explode in his chest, and the next thing he knew, every single thing that came from him was something that caused another frown on his friend’s face. It was a difficult thing indeed to involve a person; Adam doubted it would ever become easier.

Such was the case now with this stranger of a woman who was, at the moment, the very cause for Adam’s distress. There was only one thing he wanted from her, and yet just how he was getting it became the problem at hand to solve. Was it really that hard, though? Was it really that hard to get an apology from someone who had almost taken his life? Should he even be asking for such a thing? Was it not a proper social grace to apologize -- genuinely at that -- to someone after one had almost run over them? Surely, Adam was not out of place to ask. And surely, this woman could feel that -- could she not? Did she truly have no heart? Did she truly not have it in her to say one genuine apology to ease Adam’s mind? If it were anything else, he could have laughed. It was almost like being pulled out from one of the sitcoms his cousin starred in when she was much younger; like a comedy strip from some random telenovela on a random TV channel.

But it was not. This was his life, and he was currently living it, and thus, he did not laugh. Instead, Adam’s face hardened, and his body stiffened further as the woman spoke and continued to speak. Really? She chose to open the conversation with those words -- really? She chose to open a conversation with half an insult on her lips about Olivia, and then continued with a question that was most obviously meant to target him. What kind of person did that? What kind of person chose to be so completely harmless? Adam only looked at the woman with a dead glare in his eyes, the kind that was more often seen on Cooper rather than on him. He did not budge. Instead, he took her money, punched in some numbers in the register, placed it in, and handed her her change -- the better to have a reason to look away from her until it was so deemed necessary.

Adam figured that that was it for him. He figured then that he could run back into the kitchen, retrieve this woman’s order to-go, and then never see her again for the rest of his life. Then, that would be it. The end of the story. This will all be nothing more than an old wives’ tale to tell his kids when he was fifty. Yet, he knew exactly what it was that he would be facing should he choose to do any of those things. Adam knew for a fact that Olivia would not budge, that there would be a scene caused in the kitchen, and that -- in the end -- he would have to return to face this woman without so much as his dignity left. So, thus, he stayed; where his pride remained, and where his dignity still was, there was Adam.

However, he had to do something. Staying to stare the woman down until Olivia returned -- which was, Adam assumed, not until they had settled their differences, as he knew very well that she would be watching them from the kitchen window -- was an option, but not a good decision. If he frowned any minute longer before her, others would start to notice, and god knew what kind of questions such could lead to. So, to save his shop, to humor Olivia, and to wish the woman away, Adam smiled. It was not a very warm smile; if anything, it was actually a very hollow, very rude smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. “I take it you’re not here to apologize?” The smile also apparently did not much change the tone of pain in his words, nor the anger in his eyes. “But if you are, then don’t let me stop you.”

[oatanas]

Her nerves instantly calmed at his reassurance that the border collie hadn’t been pushing him around or bothering him. While he was a good dog and had never really acted out since she had adopted him several months earlier, Emme was all to aware of the horror stories on the news daily about dogs becoming aggressive and hurting people, and despite her trust in her own furry companion, she figured one couldn’t be too careful. “Good,” she let out a breath of relief and reached down to scratch behind Max’s ears absentmindedly. 

Max had been a bit of an impulse purchase. When she had bought her condo and moved herself and Beth out of her aunt and uncles house, she had thought things were finally going to get back to normal— as if she had any idea what normal really was. It was supposed to be a fresh start for the two of them; they were supposed to move on with their lives and be happy. Much to her dismay she had spent the first night sitting against the front door, jumping at every noise that echoed through the hallway. She hadn’t realized how at ease having her pseudo-parents around had made her, and how safe they had made her feel. Now that it was just her and her daughter, she found her fear of her ex-husband had come back in full force. The next day she totted Beth down to the shelter with hopes of finding something— someone— to help make her feel more at ease. 

When she got there she told them about her worries— leaving out the details, of course, it was none of their business— and they showed her kennel after kennel of stereotypical guard dogs: bullmastiffs, dobermans, shepherds, and none of them seemed to quite click with her. It wasn’t until she had given up on her watch-dog-search and decided to just get install an alarm that she actually found Max. Beth had still wanted to look at the other dogs, and with time to kill before they had anything to do, Emme didn’t see the problem. Max had been in one of the kennels furthest from the entrance and it had been a long, grueling process to get to him, but the moment the two stopped in front of his cage and he stood attentive with his tail wagging, it was like some cheesy Lifetime movie where they both fell in love at first sight. Needless to say, they left with him that day.

She chuckled at his comment and shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, he’s definitely a big boy. I think his old owners were pretty lax with the treats,” she laughed, reaching down to pat him around his middle. He was as tall as he was stocky, and there was no denying that Max was a lot of dog for one person to handle. “We’ve been working on it, but he’s got my daughter wrapped around his finger— or paw, I guess— and I’m pretty sure she’s been sneaking him treats every time I leave the room.” She stood again to wave a dismissive hand, “Yeah, of course, that’s more than fine. I’m sure he thought he was just starving for attention, since I dared to spend more than five minutes not petting him,” Emmeline rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips let him know that she was only kidding.

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Adam knew pet owners. Oh, he did. He had walked by this park too many times in the last thirty years of his life that he’d spent in Alexandria, and in these thirty years, he had had an enough number of pets run up to him -- dogs, cats, hamsters, and once, even a lone duck that tried to make its way to the bottom of a water fountain. And thus, consequently, he’d met a fair amount of pet owners. There were the mean ones: those that made Adam wonder how in the world they treated their pet. They were the only ones worse than the possessive owners: those who snarled at him for even so much as petting their animal; these were children, mostly – and children with abandonment issues, Adam would assume. Then, there were the nonchalant ones: those that didn’t even look like they had the caliber of what it took to be a pet owner, but had pets nonetheless. Adam’s favorite kind of pet owners, though, were the accidental ones: those asked to take care of their sister’s, or their friend’s, or their nieces’ pets; those that looked completely clueless with what they were doing. Sometimes, however, he would meet a nice pet owner: someone who didn’t rat him off for being the person that their pet approached.

In that moment then, Adam knew that the woman before him was the nice kind. Fortunately for him, she did not tear his ear off with the dangers of petting her dog, or gouge his eyes out by pointing to her pet every so often just to remind him that this was her dog – not his, no, but hers --, or make him want to roll his eyes into the back of his skull by asking him whether or not she should pick up the leavings of a dog that was not hers. The woman gave him none of that, but instead gave him a little story about her daughter, and an eye roll to go along with her joke. That, for Adam, was better than the alternatives he’d ever received. Well, there was that one time. That time with the accidental pet owner: the blonde with the nice breasts, and the way she screamed his name while she was pinned against the wall. But that was a different story, and it had happened over a year ago; now, if the same blonde approached him, Adam would probably decline. It was not just the time; there was something different about him, too -- something different about the way he felt for Cooper, and by consequence, something different about the way he felt about sex with other people. But that, too, was a different story; one that Adam wasn’t quite ready to admit yet.

So, instead, he pushed the thought away, and reverted back into the proper frame of thinking: he was thankful this woman hadn’t rattled his ears off, and for that, he gave her a smile. “Dogs definitely take up time, don’t they?” Adam asked. He asked though he already knew, though in his tone hoped that she would hear how badly he himself wanted one, and would thus urge him to get a pet of his own. To hear such a thing through only seven words was impossible though – unless the woman could read his mind --, so thus Adam didn’t hold out for it. Instead, he widened his smile. “A daughter and a dog though? It’s not too tiring, I hope? I hear children can be quite a handful, too. I don’t have any of my own though, so it’s all hear-say.”

Adam knew one thing: it might have been wrong of him to bring up the help of a husband or a boyfriend or a partner. The last thing he wanted in the world was to have her explain that, ‘Oh, there’s no husband! It’s just my daughter, this dog, and I!’ or ‘Oh! No, no – no boyfriend! Just me, my daughter, and this dog.’. If it was a topic worth bringing up, then she would do so, Adam knew. But, until then, he would not allow it to surface through his means, and so, until then, he would bring up things he knew for certain would not step on her bounds: things about himself that she could possibly relate with. He was, after all, a veteran in the art of conversation. Or so he’d like to think. A good seven years of managing a business and making sure it felt like home to customers, in which he also unlearned the unnecessary dorky habits he’d had during his younger years, made him think so.

“What’s your dog’s name?” he asked casually. “I’ve always wanted a dog – just never had the time or the money for one, you know. I hear it’s a lot of maintenance. Dog food, treats, and some people buy their little puppies these cute clothes. Didn’t think I could afford it.” Adam cocked his head to the side as he made a small grimace, and then managed a small chuckle. “Then there’s training the dog, and the vet’s, and just… everything, you know? Your dog is pretty well-trained, though! Sat on first command. Good job!” His words were coated by the sound of the smile that graphed his lips, a smile that he gave the woman as he complimented her. 

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Knight in Knitted Armor ▿ Adam & Harmony

[hellomissowens]

This was supposed to be an innocent, harmless, preview of all the things Harmony ordered from Adam. It was a simple list of objects, nothing too special or over the top. Adam had done an amazing job, not to mention getting things done in such a timely fashion. If Harmony had the opportunity to do this all over again, it would be done without even the slightest of a doubt. This wasn’t something she’d allow herself to do often, go to crafters, but Adam was trustworthy. She would never have a problem returning for business. Meeting him at The Pie Hole would definitely be the best part of it all, if it meant she could potentially get another slice of pie again. Harmony was all smiles, from the moment she pulled into the parking lot in front of The Pie Hole and up until the moment before Adam pulled out those newborn clothes.

As those tiny little items were placed on the table before Harmony, it’d been as if the woman became frozen in time. There was no saving her. She peered over the clothes in pure awe. They were, not only amazing, but absolutely adorable. Any baby would be lucky to have those. They didn’t appear to be itchy or too small or big. These items were perfect. Which is entirely why Harmony was completely paused. A bit of her felt so hurt and broken. To think that Harper’s baby would be arriving soon- that her nephew would be wearing those in such a short amount of time- Harmony felt the anxiety boil within her. Oh, how bad she wanted a family; her own reason for gushing over these knitted goodies. At some point in her examining them, Harm subconsciously allowed her jaw to drop slightly. Taking one of the onesies into her hands, she became lost.

Babies. Harmony loved babies. All she’d ever wanted since turning twenty-five was a child of her own. Back in Europe, where she’d resided alongside Trevor, Harm thought of the future very often. She imagined living in either Montana or Washington, with him as her husband, with a baby on the way. Back at twenty-five, when she laid next to Trevor, she envisioned the very day she’d discover all her symptoms and cheerfully announce her pregnancy to Trevor. Yet in all the years Harmony and Trevor were together, not once did the boy stop using a condom; not once did Harmony stop taking her birth control. The conversation of marriage and children never came up. Rather, where they would fly to next was the most important thing.

Harmony would be a good mother, she know she would. As she held the onesie in her hands, she couldn’t help but feel that pinch of resentment toward Harper, her older brother. He was only a couple years older, but has been through hell and back with drugs, alcohol, rehab, jail time. What had he done to deserve the life he received? Most of his twenties had been spent in jail and on probation and in rehab. Harmony, on the other hand, had done everything right. She went to school and obtained her degrees; she found the love of her life; she traveled and explored before settling. And yet, here she was, at thirty-one. In Alexandria, Virginia, alone. She was at The Pie Hole, with Adam, holding a onesie that would belong to her brother’s first baby. Not her.

Taking a deep, low, breath, the woman cleared her throat and set the knitted onesie back onto the table. Half smiling, she glanced at Adam. “It’s— It looks great.” She finally replied. Perhaps it wasn’t what he asked; in all honesty, she hadn’t caught anything he said, but figured he had to be waiting for her praise. Harmony didn’t have it in her to really pay attention. If anything, she wanted more than anything to do the exact opposite. “It’s all great,” The woman repeated half-heartedly. Grabbing the salad to replace it back into her lap, Harmony used the fork to move some of the lettuce and tomatoes around. Very much still in thought, she felt nothing, but rather her imagination had guided her to the place of thoughts. Thoughts of a baby, thoughts of the future she’d always wanted.

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Just when Adam thought that everything was going right, everything went wrong. In the moments that he’d laid out the products that he’d made on the table, the smile that had so blessedly graced Harmony’s features had disappeared, leaving in its place a look that Adam couldn’t quite decipher. What was that in her eyes? At first, he thought it was disgust. Disgust for what he had made; dislike for what he presented before her. At first, he thought there must have been something wrong with him and what he presented. The curdling fear that came with this thought quickly overcame him, thus dampening the smile on his own face and removing any hints of it. It had always been a great fear to disappoint others. At thirty, one would think that Adam would have had it all figured out; one would think that he would have found a way around his fear of rejection, yet there he stood in front of Harmony Owens, afraid and ashamed of what he had done, and the reaction that she had given him.

However, the more he looked at her, and the  more he studied her features, the more he realized that it was not, after all, disgust. There was something else in her eyes; something that vaguely reminded him of himself whenever he looked at Cooper. Longing. In Harmony’s eyes were longing, and Adam could just about figure that with the look of longing came its other signs: the twinge in one’s heart, the hint of sadness that came after, the pain that came from knowing that one did not have what they so wanted to have. As Adam looked at Harmony in the silence that had been rendered before them, he understood more than he should have just by looking at the reaction that the baby attires had caused within her, and he understood more of himself and how he felt about Cooper with the way her look of longing reminded him of his own. And, like he understood that he himself could not fully admit whatever it was he felt for his friend, so Adam understood that it was possible that Harmony could not be able to admit to others the emotion that even looking at these baby attires caused within her.

Adam allowed her the silence that she needed. Within him was a hesitation, a feeling that he should look away as he was being obtrusive by even watching her in her vulnerability; and yet, at the same time, he did not turn away, for the hesitation made him keep his gaze on her. One part of him longed to do something, and yet another longed to give her the time that she needed. One part of him wondered whether there was something he could do, while the other knew that sometimes, just allowing one person to themselves was all anyone could do. The questions played on his features, but never once did he voice them out. Worry and hope flashed across his countenance, too, but he kept those emotions silent as well. But thus, he would allow Harmony her silence; when she was ready to speak, then he would be ready to listen. That was all he could do, wasn’t it? Sometimes, silence and readiness were all one could give.

It was only when Harmony spoke once again did Adam perk up in attention from his seat. The slight furrow of worry between his eyebrows remained, but a small, soft smile graphed his lips, too. He hoped that it was a smile welcoming enough; he hoped that it was a smile enough to show that he was not judging her, and that he would never even think of doing so. It was not even a smile that was about himself or the newborn attires that he’d made, no; the fear of her completely ignoring the things he’d made had now passed. No, the smile that he had was simply for Harmony: to show her that he was there if she would need a friend to talk to, and yet at the same time, to show her that he would give her her silence if she so asked for it. Even after she had spoken, Adam allowed a moment’s beat to pass before them before he finally did speak in reply, almost as if he was waiting for the right time only to find that it might never come.

“Are you okay, Harmony?” Adam asked in his softest voice. He had moved one hand across the table, almost as if to reach out for his acquaintance despite never truly quite touching her, as an instinct for that was the case when it came to comforting people. Then, again, he let that action slowly materialize before them, leaving again another moment’s beat of silence to pass between the table before he finally spoke once more. Situations like these were difficult, but not one that Adam was entirely new to. In the years that he’d spent at The Pie Hole, he’d seen one too many sad customers around. And yet, it never did become any easier. Dealing with one’s grief, or longing, or sadness, or pain never did become easier, and knowing what to say never did become something he learned. So, with a soft, steady voice, Adam asked the only thing he knew: a question that would mean Harmony decided which words he chose next: “Do you want to talk about it?”

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Knight in Knitted Armor ▿ Adam & Harmony

[hellomissowens]

Harmony knew what compliments did for people. In the era of rudeness, condescending tones, and brash statements, it was hard to find someone who genuinely didn’t mind uplifting others. People these days didn’t consider the gratitude and the joy of paying respect. Everyone demanded a pedestal; a soap box. Yet no one ever truly demanded credit or accolades for their hard work. When Harmony glanced around The Pie Hole, she knew this store didn’t come up from nothing. This little bakery had to be made, put together, and publicly open to criticism and compliments alike. Though she doubted Adam would be given a hard time for his accomplishment, it wasn’t entirely impossible. Food critics were the downfall to all things personally made. Food critics shut down family owned restaurants and bakeries and cafes. No one said it, but it was the truth.

So as Adam’s face brightened with the joy and bashfulness that came with being told his bakery was great, Harmony knew what she’d done. Encouragement was, essentially, all anyone truly wanted in this world. Harmony, herself, struggled to find support and encouragement. With her grandparents and father deceased, her mother and older brother in Montana, and the guy she thought she’d love forever all gone from her life? Well, she knew what it meant to have to have someone just give a proper, ‘good job’. Though Adam, of course, humbly accepted her compliment and mentioned his co-worker Olivia, Harmony simply nodded. She thought of how wonderful it’d be to have a friend, or even an accomplice through her time here in Virginia. Alexandria was nice and homey, more than Harm anticipated; but maybe she’d feel less lonely if she had an Olivia of her own. Maybe.

“You’re very welcome,” She finally replied to Adam with a polite smile. “I’m still glad everything worked out for you because, honestly, it’s not very common to find self-made bakeries anymore, you know? Everyone is all about convenience and packaging and hand sized and— Seriously. I’m so amazed and really, this is all things to be proud of regardless, so.” Finishing off her rambling, Harm clasped her hands together and took in a deep breath. She couldn’t help herself. The place was refreshing to her, almost exhilarating. “I honestly haven’t been in a bakery since I was little girl.” She told him, but kept out the unneeded detail of how The Pie Hole made her feel on an emotional level. On one hand, it made her hungry; the other hand, it made her truly nostalgic. Her grandfather, Thomas, took her to a nearby bakery in Billings all the time. It was a great little shop, the one he knew of, that gave out free cookie dough on Saturdays, then free baking lessons on Sunday.

A place like that would remain engraved in anyone’s memory. Though it shut down nearly fourteen years ago, Harmony remembered the bakery all too well, but subsided those irrelevant thoughts in hopes of keeping up with Adam conversation wise. After his reassurance that everything was okay on his end as to why Harm didn’t reply to him, she eased her shoulders into a more relaxed position. A deep exhale subtly happened within her, and she tilted her head some. “That’s a relief, I was worried a little. I wanted to come today and I’m glad I did. A lot of what I wanted to get done today got transferred over to tomorrow, so I’m happy we’re both here!” She added happily, digressing the conversation altogether as she followed Adam over to a sitting area. Now, it was time to get down to business. Harmony happily joined him, but didn’t forget what her originally visit was for.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I couldn’t resist,” Harmony bounced shyly as she took her seat on the couch opposite to Adam’s. It was comfortable, but she did her best to keep herself on the edge of it. Harmony was here in pencil skirt short than her usual (by usual, it would be the ones she was allowed to wear to work) and didn’t want to fall too deeply into the couch. After finding a comfortable position, Harm crossed one leg over the other and put her hands back together right on her lap. “I just hope you like cobb salad, and lemonade. That’s kinda all they had this late.” She explained as she pulled the two containers and drinks out of the bag. Though, at Adam’s question, she slowed down her movements. Whoops, perhaps too eager to eat? Harmony blushed and laughed awkwardly. “Oh—” She mumbled, tucking in her lips. “Well, I can wait to eat.”

Using her fingers to pull some of her loose hair away from her face, she gently tucked it behind her ears and then adjusted the placement of her skirt on her legs. “I really liked what you showed me in the pictures. I thought what you have done so far is— it’s really, really good, to be honest.” Harmony noted with a nod. “And also, I really just wanted to thank you for this, you know, again.” — she laughed breathlessly— “ I’m sure you had a ton of other orders to fill, so it’s kinda nice. You know, you meeting up with me? I really appreciate it you taking time out of your schedule.” Shaking her head, Harmony laughed yet again and leaned toward Adam. “Okay, so let’s see! I’m dying over here!” The woman finished with a clap, her hands then giving this lazy cheering motion. “I’m so excited!”

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Dear god, this was going so much better than planned -- and it had barely begun! It was so much better than what Adam had expected! Here he was, sitting in his shop, feeling both proud and humbled with the kind words that left Harmony’s lips, while she sat before him with a ready smile on her face, welcoming and encouraging, so unlike the way Breanah had looked at him. With the way his last meeting with Breanah had gone, Adam was of a mind to believe that this meeting with Harmony Owens would go the same horrible path. Yet, everything about her only proved him wrong: from the way she sat down before him with a shy smile on her lips, to the way she had even thought of him and brought him food, and down to the way she constantly thanked him and reminded him what a pleasure this was!

And maybe that  was the thing that made it so much better: Harmony’s words; the way she seemed just as excited about this as he was; the way she seemed actually thankful for what he did. It was, by far, the best thing about all this. All of Adam’s life, he had heard nothing but nasty comments about what he did -- and enjoyed -- from the people he cared about. To his father, this was a woman’s job; Adam should not be sitting around doing what a woman should do. To his younger brother Alex, knitting was not only a woman’s job, but a little girl’s -- or an old lady’s! He made fun of Adam for where the older boy could not run, or jump, or skip, or catch the way a boy was supposed to. To his younger twin sisters Sierra and Sage, he was a joke; they never truly said it outright, but he had looked into their eyes enough to know what they thought of him. And to his mother? Well, she was kinder than most. Kinder than most, but not quite kind enough. She loved him for the things he enjoyed -- things that a ‘boy his age’ shouldn’t be doing --, yet nevertheless tried to get him out into the field, to do what his brother did; to like what he did not like; to be like the rest of the boys his age.

Now he sat before a person who thanked him for what he did, who not only liked what he did but also appreciated it. It dawned on Adam in that moment that maybe he had been starved for attention all his life -- all his thirty years of living --, and that maybe he had moved on from all that and told himself that he no longer cared for what others thought of what he did with his life, but it was nice. It was nice to hear that someone appreciated his work, and he was not about to deny himself this once it was here and handed to him on a plate. And maybe that was the catch: that he did not know how nice it was to be appreciated for what he did -- and loved -- until someone finally appreciated him; that he did not know how nice it felt to share the joy of a hobby with someone until there was finally someone to share it with. The smile on Adam’s face only widened with every word that came from Harmony, as if it were powered from the very excitement that radiated off her. He had enough excitement within himself, but it was hers that powered his, almost as if like the catalyst that he did not know he needed all along.

At Harmony’s instruction, Adam grabbed the bag beside him; the smile never once left his lips. “Thank you, too,” he said as he put what he’d made on the table before them, the better to let Harmony see and give her verdict. “Thank you for trusting me with so much. And meeting up with you is no problem at all! I want you to see the progress, just for you to check whether you still want to push through or not, seeing as you did order quite a lot! And I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” Every so often, as he spoke and put five newborn socks, three newborn blankets, and one newborn hat on the table, Adam would look up to meet Harmony’s gaze and smile, just to make sure that she was still with him. It was not only a proper social grace to keep eye contact with one’s conversational partner, but also a way for Adam to check for Harmony’s reaction as he put out the contents of his bag on the table -- contents that were his work; contents that were not only for Harmony, but also something she was paying for.

“Well, like I said -- I haven’t finished everything,” Adam began once everything was set on the table. Only then did the nervousness sink in. Only then did the fear of rejection -- of anything negative that might come from Harmony -- finally made its way to Adam’s mind. What if she did not like the colors? What if there was something in the things he’d made that she found unpleasing? Would she have come all this way for something she did not like? Did he make all her efforts go to waste by showing her something that she no longer wanted? The smile nevertheless stayed on Adam’s lips, never once allowing the fear to seep through his features the way it had seeped through his mind. “But I did finish these, and so -- what do you think?” Adam paused to allow Harmony a way for thought, but not quite enough to actually allow her to speak. “I mean, I could change them if you don’t like them. I have time! I mean -- if you want to push through! If you want! I mean -- you know!” Adam flushed in his seat. “Heh, I’m rambling. You should.... you should tell me what you think!”

[oatanas]

Spending a few hours running through local streets and parks wasn’t unusual for Emmeline. She had run track and played soccer in high school, and the fitness routine from the two was something that had followed her into college, and well into her adult years. The woman was well aware of the fact that running was generally a universally disliked form of exercise, and once upon a time she had agreed with that, but as of late she found it to be incredibly soothing. It was an hour and a half outside where she could simply exist, and not have to worry about anything other than the dull ache that would grow in her calves and the sound of Max’s toes clicking against the pavement beside her. 

Max was usually an obedient dog. He was loyal to Emmeline and her daughter, and it was rare that Emme ever had to repeat a command to get him to follow it. Whenever they were out he would sit happily by her side. He was a good dog, and usually, Emmeline didn’t have to worry about him getting into trouble. Usually.

Emme had paused their run, only for a split second, to check the phone that was vibrating in her pocket. Normally she ignored it, but with Beth spending the night with her Aunt and Uncle, she was a little more paranoid than she would usually be, and answered the phone on the first ring in fear of something being wrong— there wasn’t anything wrong, of course. In that moment, something up ahead had apparently sparked Max’s interest and taking advantaged of his owner’s distraction, he had tugged ahead quickly, pulling his leash from Emme’s unusually slacked grip.

She cursed to herself as she hung up the phone quickly, running a hand through her hair before taking off after him. The cool evening air nipped at her skin as she caught up to him, quickly slipping a finger under his collar and pulling him back from the stranger he had been trying to be-friend. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized quickly. “He didn’t push you down, did he?” They were standing, but for all Emme knew Max had jumped up in excitement and knocked them off their feet before she managed to catch up to them. He was a big dog with a tendency to get over-excited, and it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. She snapped her fingers, telling Max to sit, a command which he happily obliged and parked himself at her heels while panting happily. “I hope he didn’t bother you too much.” 

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Adam found it hard to imagine a life without Inez Lanford. When someone found a way to bind themselves into one's life so intricately; to become such a big part of someone else's past, present, and future; to be the reason for catalyst of so many things that had taken place in another's life, it became hard to imagine a life without them. And that was the way it was with Adam Farnsworth and his half-sister Inez. Sometimes fate had a funny way of putting someone into your life. Adam had been in search for a father he never had -- and a father he did not need to know --, but instead he had found another half-sibling.

Even though they were miles apart -- with Inez in Chicago, and Adam in Alexandria --, the two found a way to keep in touch. It was a routine, really -- but one they both liked and kept up with, for that was the way it was with two people who were connected so wholly. They exchanged emails, and they talked over the phone, sharing jokes and stories the way they would share jokes and stories if they were face to face. Sometimes, it would be difficult. There were simply some things that one couldn't say over the phone, and even more that one couldn't convey through text, but Inez and Adam found a way to make it work -- and even more, found a way to make their yearly visits to one another worth it.

This particular Sunday morning, as Adam was enjoying time out by himself sitting in one of Alexandria's park benches, Inez was telling him of how she was finally moving in with her eight-month long boyfriend. It was the tone of her voice and the joy in her news that made Adam smile; the curve of a smile that she elicited from him was inevitable. It was audible, too, in his words, as he replied and congratulated her for the next big step that she was taking with her boyfriend.

Only moments after he had ended the call and promised that he would call some time tomorrow morning to continue their conversation did a dog come up to Adam and begin nuzzling against his legs. The dog was big, but he posed no threat to Adam. If anything, Adam found it a little cute! He had always wanted a dog for himself, but he either never had the time to care for one, or no money to sustain one. Now, in his thirties, he had both -- but he suspected that his roommate would be opposed to such an idea. In either case, Adam bent to meet the dog where it nuzzled against him, softly running a hand through the animal's fur, and saying sweet little nothings that people usually say when they were petting a stranger's dog -- or, at least, Adam hoped that other people said the things he said, too.

It was when a voice came from above him that Adam stood up from where he was sitting, looking quite like he'd been caught red-handed with a crime that he never meant to do. He met the eyes of the woman that was standing in front of him, still as alert as when her voice had first startled him, despite her apologies and his acknowledgement that she wasn't at all mad at him. Only when she had commanded the dog to sit, and once more said something sort of an apology, did Adam finally manage to smile. "Oh! Bother me? No, not at all!" There was still that look in his eyes: the one that made him look like he'd been caught doing something illegal, when really all he had done was pet another person's dog. "And he didn't push me down! I'm sorry-- He came up to me, and I-- Well, he's a very cute dog. Big dog, but still. I kind of, uh, petted him. If that's okay."

[parcel]

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Knight in Knitted Armor ▿ Adam & Harmony

[hellomissowens]

The inside of The Pie Hole was absolutely divine. Harmony did her best to pay attention, but realistically? The woman was in absolute awe. Just taking a whiff of the air was all anyone needed to fall in love. In her mind, she’d practically squealed. There weren’t many bakery operations like this anymore, not in modern America. So as she tried to pay personal attention to Adam, who had introduced himself three times, Harm caught herself staring at the displays and everything on the counter. Jaw slightly dropped, her hand scooted her healthy little salads far away. Starstruck. Harmony was star struck.

Finally shaking the thought of all these combined things, Harmony glanced to Adam. Her eyes were bright and wide, she smiled widely as well. “H-Hi. Yes! I’m… Harmony. Harmony Owens!” She told him cheerfully as she extended her hand to meet his. “It is really good to meet you, I’ve been— I can’t stop thinking about you. Well— Wow. Not /you/, you know, just, everything? The things you’ve created. The work you’ve put in for me. I just— It’s always in my head and— I’m just really excited to meet you.” Harmony finally took a breath, laughing awkwardly at- mostly- herself. “Your store is amazing, by the way!”

It seemed like everything Adam did was amazing. As she continued looking around, she couldn’t help but stay impressed. There was envy in her, she might’ve turned green right before the man. She imagined a life like this, knitting in her free time for extra cash then owning a bakery? This was a life everybody should strive for. Licking over her lips, Harmony brought her eyes back to Adam. “Oh, and I’m sorry for not replying to your text message!” She brought up, wiggling her phone in her hand some. “I’d been busy, or trying to keep busy, all morning. Work things, family things, the fun stuff, you know.” She rolled her eyes playfully and laugh. “I hope you weren’t too worried though. I know I kind of suck at communicating and— I’m here. I’m sorry.”

In the midst of all her admiration and gazing and explaining, Harmony took a deep breath in and turned back to Adam fully. Her eyes then met the salads and drinks that’d been pushed aside for the sake of checking out displays and good looking pies. A bit of her felt a little embarrassed coming to a dessert place with salads. Touching the filled bag, she chuckled. “I’m, um, I’m not a health nut or anything? But I didn’t know if you were? Or if you weren’t? But, um, I bought salads? I figured, you know, it’s about lunch time. And if it’s not too busy, we can kinda eat and just go over everything you made?”

In retrospect, it sounded like a good idea. On her way to the place, she did feel weird to show up empty handed. She figured, this man was spending his time making her Christmas gifts for her family, the least she could do was feed him, right? Harmony herself didn’t have the skill nor time to do what he did, and as a thank you, it seemed the decent thing to do was feed him. Honestly, bringing him a burger seemed like a heavy meal, one she knew not everyone enjoyed. He could’ve been a vegetarian and she would’ve offended him. Can’t go wrong with a salad, right? “So, what do you say?” She asked persuasively as she added a smile. “Lunch meeting?”

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Harmony Owens! Harmony Owens. The sound of it brought the smile on Adam’s face to widen, and caused the worry that had rippled through and through him in the hours beforehand to completely disappear. With the absence of worry came a surge of relief; a surge of relief that ran through him as Harmony -- Harmony! This was Harmony! -- shook his hand, and began to speak. Her words did nothing to suppress the relief that coursed through him; if anything, it caused the same hint of pride that always filled Adam whenever anyone complimented him on his shop. The Pie Hole, by far, was one of the things he was most proud about -- if not, the thing that he was most proud about. The years that he’d tolerated in the kitchen while his step-father ridiculed him for doing a woman’s job, those afternoons that he spent baking when no one else would even care to look at him, and those that he’d spent baking after classes -- even through his Metallurgical Engineering majors! -- had not been there for nothing. At least Adam would like to believe. At least Adam would like to believe that they were worth it. And compliments like these -- like the ones that Harmony gave him now -- surely made them feel worth it. Compliments like these -- like the ones that Harmony gave -- surely made Adam’s heart swell with joy.

No matter how many compliments he had received over the years, and how many he continued to receive at present time, the joy that he received never once felt old; never once felt used. Just like the shop had, the joy had bloomed over the years, learning to appreciate more of what the people said, and learning to take more of their compliments and criticism as tidbits to grow and flourish. And, it was the same for that moment; Adam smiled a wide smile -- one of humility, yet also one of pride -- as Harmony commented not only about his shop, but also about him, and all the work he did. It was nice, sometimes: a little word of appreciation, a little word of affirmation. It was nice to hear others say it, though words like that always somehow brought from within Adam the young boy he had once been: a boy that had been so starved for attention; a boy that had been so deprived of it. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” Adam’s tone was just as kind and welcoming as Harmony’s, but obviously booming with humble pride -- or was it proud humility? -- with each word. “I couldn’t have done it without the help of a bank that gave me loans, and of course, my lovely waitress Olivia over there, who has been in this shop with me since it first stood here on King street!”

Adam always did mention Olivia, and he gestured to her. He would always mention Olivia, he knew, even if she should ever decide to leave The Pie Hole and venture out into new paths. She was his right-hand woman, and without her, nothing would have been possible. As he gestured towards his waitress, Adam’s eyes followed Harmony’s as they took in the sight of the shop, and the smile that he had never once left his lips. When the woman’s gaze came to meet his again, he only showed an acknowledging look, to say that he was taking in every word and action that came from her. However, a frown -- not a negative one, though -- quickly formed upon his features once he had heard Harmony’s next words, though after it did come a chuckle. “No, no! You have nothing to be sorry about,” he said in an understanding manner. “Life does get busy sometimes. And, no -- please! Don’t feel the need to apologize because you had a life to attend to! I’m just here, y’know -- I wasn’t going anywhere to begin with!”

The smile that was already on Adam’s lips widened again. Maybe it was too soon to call for judgment; maybe it was too soon to decide whether he liked Harmony as a person or not, but, it was the next of what she did -- or, well, what she said, and that of what she had done -- that became his deciding factor. And, Adam decided, that it was a definite yes. As he looked from her, to the bag that she was talking about, then to her again, the look on his face only grew with more and more appreciation for what she had done. Certainly, there was no need for this! Certainly, there was no need to think of him at all! There was little that Adam wanted, after all -- and more often than not, it was to please others; and, as he searched for ways to please others, he often forgot that sometimes, others wanted to do the same thing. No matter how little or grand the gesture, it always came of a surprise to him when someone even thought of including him in their day! And how glad it made him feel! How the smile on his lips grew!

There was a tiny chuckle that escaped his lips before he finally answered. “I think that’d be great,” Adam said, no hint of hesitation or room for doubt in his tone. “You didn’t have to, really! I’m-- wow! This is so nice of you! Really, you didn’t have to!” He chuckled again, but this time grabbed the bag of what he had finished for Harmony from where he stood behind the counter, and then walked out to meet her and lead her to a table by the side of the window. As they walked, Adam could not help but keep the smile on his face -- a bright, happy, brilliant smile that lightened up his whole features. This meeting had not even started officially, and yet it was already going so much better than the meeting with Breanah. And thank god for that. Thank fucking god that this did not look like it was going to end -- or, frankly, start -- the same way that the meeting with Breanah had gone. For one, he hadn’t slept with Harmony before all this. And for another, she hadn’t lied to him about her identity. That, along with all the kindness that she brought with her, was definitely a good sign to Adam.

Adam took a seat on the couch opposite Harmony’s, the better to look at her and converse with her throughout the duration of their lunch meeting. Despite his excitement, he kept the bag of his creations beside him, not wanting to put it on the table just yet in case Harmony did not yet think it proper to do so. The excitement showed on his face though; he could not help but smile at her. “Well, you know what”--he began--”since we’re already here, I’ll have a slice of pie for you on the house. A slice of your choice! Anything that you’d like. Later, after we’re done with lunch.” Adam chuckled, then shook his head. “But, on that note, would you like to see what I’ve made now, or would you like to eat first?”

[veranovodvorskaya-deactivated20]

Necessary Evils ▿ Vera & Adam

[veranovodvorskaya-deactivated20]

At best, Vera could be called pigheaded. She had been stubborn since she was a child, insisting that she get things her way and that there was just no other option. It had driven her mother and father up the wall, but Vera had kept up with the awful habit of refusing to back down. It had done her well through her schooling career; when she’d come across something she didn’t understand, she’d practice the formulas and equations until her fingers cramped and her eyelids drooped, refusing to lay down to sleep or take a break until she’d perfected it. She’d been driven all through university, in the same way she’d been driven to step on a plan and fly to an entirely different country.

She’d been what her brother, Mikhail, would call a grade-A asshole to the man behind the counter. Vera knew that, for all technicalities, she had been in the wrong, considering she’d been the one to almost mow him down with her car, but Vera wasn’t the type of person to work with what ifs unless they were involved in her work. Discussing the potential in the Hubble Bubble theory with colleagues was completely different from not killing someone with her car. She hadn’t hurt the man, and clearly he was in working order, so she just didn’t see why he had gotten so worked up over something that hadn’t even happened. Yes, she had technically hit him with her car, but it had been more of a love-tap on her bumper than a full hit-and-run accident.

Vera could almost hear her mother from Russia, using that haughty, demanding, I’m-your-mother-and-I-know-best tone of voice, telling her to apologize to the man and be done with it. Clearly his coworker was in on what had happened between the two of them, if scathingly false smiles could be called knowledge, and wanted her out of sight. It would be easier to apologize. She could just say she was sorry, try to blame it on faulty brakes or just not paying attention to the road, but in Vera’s head, she’d done nothing to warrant being yelled at like she had. Things that could have potentially happened were never something she could understand introducing emotions to. What was the point in playing with a theory and getting attached when what had actually occurred had already happened?

“That’s nice for you,” she said, lips pursing as she looked towards the woman. Her face still looked fake to Vera, almost comically so at this point. Vera had never understood the point in pretending to be nice, but this woman looked like she was trying to use it like poison. Be so sugary sweet that it hurt. Vera just found it laughable. “You look absolutely lovely today.” The look she gave the woman was anything but kind, a deadpanned expression curling along her mouth and her eyes as she turned her attention back to the man.

In a different situation, Vera would be insulted that the man wasn’t speaking to her and that a medium – the marionette doll – was speaking for him. She could understand why he didn’t speak to her, but it still pissed her off. In a field of work that was ruled by men who either paid too much attention to her or none at all, Vera didn’t like being written off and not spoken to. The man could look at her all he wanted, but he hadn’t opened his mouth to say a word, and it was like raking nails down a chalkboard for Vera. An unpleasant tingle rippling up and down her spine, a feeling like she was being overlooked. That bullheaded four-year-old with an ugly attitude tended to rear its head at times like these.

She gave him a hard look. He was being childish about their encounter and, although Vera understood that causing a scene would probably be the last thing he wanted, she still didn’t like the way he didn’t speak to her. Smothering a sigh, she looked back in the direction of the woman, eyes flicking down to the display and mind flicking back through what she had eaten since she’d landed in Virginia. She doubted they would have pirog or pirozhki, but one of her coworkers had taken her out for dinner a few weeks before and ordered her what he’d called a staple American meal, which had included a slice of apple pie. It had tasted something like the sharlotka her mother made for her when she begged and bought the ingredients, and Vera thought she could deal with eating it again.

Glancing from between the woman and the man, she said, “A slice of apple pie.” She paused, giving the woman a pointed look. “To go, if possible.”

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

There was something to be said about Olivia Oliquino. Adam found her seven years ago, on a dingy street in Alexandria, searching for food in the middle of the night in trash cans that smelled as dirty as she herself did. That, in itself, was something that shocked him. But it was her courage, a certain spark that he saw in her eyes, that took his notice. She did what she did without even so much as a hint of shame. Her hands moved with a certain speed, and her stance never once faltered, as if she’d been living this certain way her whole life, and what she did now was of no question. There was a need to survive, and Olivia Oliquino, with her hair bright red and her smile infallible, but the determination on her features not absent; with her thick Filipino accent that she was not ashamed of, and her lack of an English vocabulary that she did not dare hide, had met it.

Adam learned afterwards, once he had had her and the two younger girls that were with her cleaned up, of the story that they carried. Of the men. Of the night. Of the cold, harsh shelter. And then, in the moments after that, after he had given her a home and a job, he had gotten to know of the past that she lived. Of her father. Of his death. Of the life that he took for his own. Of her job at such a young age. Of her sister. She opened herself up to him -- more than he opened herself up to her -- and in her little stories found a way to patch her story whole. There was something to be said about Olivia Oliquino, a girl who had not been given the chance to an education; a girl who had had to work for everything her whole life, in a way that Adam would never quite experience; a girl who had learned to smile through her adversities, but nevertheless keep a frown on her face if it needed to be there. There was something to be said about her, and in moments like these, that Adam Farnsworth could not quite bring himself to truly explain what it was.

It was in moments like these, where Olivia handled situations better than he did, despite everything he had and everything that she had not, that Adam looked to her with a certain kind of reverence. Despite the deadpanned, unkind look that the customer -- a customer that they had both come to dislike -- had given her, Olive’s smile remained on her face, if anything growing more and more genuine by the moment. Meanwhile Adam -- whose anger still curled within him like a scalding memory of his worst fears come to life --, who had not received anything from the woman but silence, grew colder and colder the more he looked at the customer that had entered his shop. The smile on his lips faded, whereas Olivia’s grew more genuine; the look on his face hardened, whereas Olivia’s softened to welcome the woman and her words despite all that she had done to Adam beforehand.

And maybe it was the one difference that made their reactions so different: it was not Olive who had almost died. No, that had been Adam. It had been Adam in front of the car; Adam whose life had flashed before his eyes; Adam whose worst fears had come to life; Adam whose tears had been held back only by words that he now regretted to ever say yet also, at the same time, did not wish to take back. And maybe that was why Olive could smile where Adam could not. She did not need an apology! She only knew so much. This woman that was before them now, with her pride, and the horrid attitude that she had shown Adam, did not owe Olive an apology. No! She owed Adam! And he stood there, unable to hold up niceties with each passing second, believing that he truly and wholly did deserve an apology not only for having his life almost taken from him, but also from the reaction that she had given him afterwards! With every word that came from the woman’s mouth, and with every look she gave him and Olivia, Adam’s determination to get what he deserved -- if he would not get it, then he would through hell stand by it, at least -- rose within him. He would not pretend anymore in front of this woman; even she did not deserve the truth of her actions to be taken from her. To do so would benefit her! To do so would be letting her go for what she had done!

Olivia’s smile remained, however, even as she punched some numbers onto the cash register and pointed to the little black box that showed how much the woman had to pay for. The smile remained, but she looked to Adam with an unmistakable furrow of worry between her eyebrows, then to the woman with the same kind of worry though in a less intense manner. Before the woman could even reach for her wallet or make ready to pay for her purchase, Olivia had looked from her to Adam multiple times, assessing what it was that they both needed. There was something to be said about her; she had no degree to her name, no diploma and no awards, but she was farby one of the most insightful and knowledgeable people that Adam knew. Sometimes, he loved her for it. At that moment, as he met her gaze and tried to decipher what ran through her mind, he had a feeling that he would hate her for it. Well, hate was a heavy term. Hate sounded permanent, and Adam knew that this feeling would not be permanent. But, whatever it was that Olivia was thinking, Adam was quite sure he’d dislike her for it even for a few days.

Adam would, of course, only confirm all his thoughts once she spoke -- something that Olivia so graced him, as if on cue. “Hay nako,” she said in that accent of hers, “you two talk like adults over here, okay? While I get the order. Nako, nako! Don’t make me put you two in a corner to talk about it. Just talk, okay? Don’t kill each other.” Olivia spoke in a stern tone, the kind that she used on her younger sister when they were both little; the kind that she’d learned over the years from living in the slums of the Philippines, on streets as dirty and as rough as the tone that it required from those who lived in it. “If you want to kill each other, I will bring knives from the kitchen, and I will watch you kill each other. But please talk. Okay? I’ll go get the order.” And with that, she gave both of them a strict final look, then excused herself from the counter, leaving Adam and the woman that he so despised to deal with themselves.

Her absence, however, did nothing to soften Adam’s features. He was not always so rough. He was not always so distant, so cold. For anyone who knew Adam at all, they would know him as one who smiled whenever possible -- so as to please others more than he pleased himself, which was a true fact that others would have come to notice about him. But he did not smile now. He did not want to please the woman that was before him. He wanted one thing and one thing only: an apology. After that, it would come easy. After that, it would be easier to breathe. Adam knew because he was Adam, and with Adam, genuine apologies for the things he wanted apologies for were always forgiven. However, there was one thing that he did not know how to do: he did not know how to ask. He stood there, rigid as ever, looking to the cash register before he finally looked at the woman standing before him for more than two seconds. “That’ll be five dollars,” he said, distant as ever. “Hope you enjoy your food.”

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

▿

guesS WHO DID NOT SLEEP HAHAHAHHAHHHA YEAH THATS RIGHT ITS ME ITS 8 AM OK aND i have two para replies (adam to harmony, adam to vera) to get to and i will be getting to that right after i listen to maroon 5 and cry about the fact that adam levine isnt married to mE I'M MAD ABOUT IT TBQH

let me tell u all a story

when i was in first year uni, i got so?????? iDK whatever i had so much emotions for adam levine right

and so he was my phone wallpaper

and then one day i woke up and i looked at the time

but i saw his face instead

and i was so sad that he did not love me

that i didnt go to school that day instead i just cried in my dorm

AND THAT IS A STORY BROUGHT TO U BY ALEXIS

THATS aLL

I DIDNT SLEEP OK FORGIVE ME

also hello new people i am alexis i s2g im usually better than this

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Knight in Knitted Armor ▿ Adam & Harmony

[hellomissowens]

Saturday. It wasn’t a busy day, not like one she’d thought to have planned. Her day was supposed to rip open at the seams. What wasn’t there to do? With the craziness of her workload, and the supposed licensing homework, then there was paying bills; a bunch of things were supposed to happen on Saturday. On Friday, she’d practically resented the fact that she had to wake up and deal with it all. Why she piled so much into one day, she hadn’t a mere clue. Then telling Adam she may or may not stop by? There was so much on her plate!

But then Saturday morning rolled around. Harmony woke up at her regular time, nine in the morning, then did her usual morning routine. It wasn’t some crazy ritual: just do her bathroom routine, her breakfast routine, and she was out the door. No questions asked. The first thing on her agenda was to grade that surprise three-paragraph-essay she assigned to her students about Paris during the French Revolution. What was estimated to be take four hours to go through? Took an hour.

Her students were a surprise. Each paper was uniquely written, and well written at that, so Harm didn’t have to go through corrections or anything. Everyone wrote what they knew, honestly, and turned it in. That was the assignment, and every student did it. It honestly surprised her. How did she get so lucky? Either way, not dealing with grammar mistakes and misinformed facts was no longer on the agenda. Nice to think, there was three hours at her disposal. So, she figured calling her mom could be next on the list.

“Oh, I’m out with some friends- I forgot about our phone dates. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” And with that, Harmony’s mom hung up the phone. It was a breeze for the woman. No “I love you,” nothing. Claranette just… hung up. After getting over that rejection, she decided to call her brother instead. “Yeah, can’t talk, yo. Got the wifey over here talking about some weird organic stuff. Plus we’re planning the baby shower, so. Can’t talk. I’ll hit you up later.” And again, with that, the call ended. Harmony was surprised, but more at the fact that everything she had on her list was disappearing and seeping into tomorrow.

By the later mid-day of Saturday, everything she needed to get done had been completed. Her home was clean, her licensing homework was complete, and her bills were paid. This was pleasant, and a surprise. Nothing she expected. By then, she figured it wouldn’t be a problem for her to meet up with Adam at the location he told them to meet. It wasn’t too late, and Harmony figured she could show up. It wouldn’t be too late, right? On her way to the address, she picked up too salads and lemonades for her and Adam, just a thank you gesture of some sort.

And now, finally outside of her destination, the woman pulled her phone out to see a text from Adam. The guilt set in, she’d made him wait all day. Frowning as she pulled herself from the car, Harmony walked into The Pie Hole with a sheepish look on her face. After glancing around the space, her eyes landed on a man. “Hi, I’m looking for Adam?” She asked in question form as she walked deeper into the establishment curiously. “Are you…?”

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

The initial worry that Adam had when he first sent the text at nine in the morning grew within the hour. A part of him knew it was irrational, and Olive was there to remind him every so often, and yet the feeling welled within him, gnawing in his stomach like a  little monster that needed to be fed. The absence of a message in return only worried him more, though he knew that even that was not enough reason to worry. If Harmony Owens would show up, then she would show up. Adam simply had to hold on to her word, trust her that she thought his works beautiful, and that she would arrive. All these scenarios of her standing him up, or leaving him hanging, or worse, playing a joke on him, simply had to leave his mind! They simply weren’t an option! Not now, after he’d already started on the job. And what kind of person would do that, anyway? What kind of person left a man hanging for one of their silly jokes? Adam did not know Harmony, but he would simply have to trust that she was not like that.

After his last meeting with Breanah Davis though, Adam didn’t quite think his worry was unfounded. There were all sorts of things that could go wrong, a number of variables that could contribute to things going wrong, and Adam being made into something of a joke at the end of all this. The four walls of The Pie Hole, the familiarity of its smells and its interiors, and the smiles on the faces of his new and regular customers were the only things that comforted him at the moment, but even then the worry boiled within him. He tried, however, not to dwell on it. It was still a work day, after all. Whether or not Harmony Owens would show up, Adam was still the owner of The Pie Hole, and he still had to make pies, welcome people, and keep things in order. The presence of one person did not change all these things -- so  Olive had to remind Adam every time she caught him staring into space with a particular look of worry on his face.

So, Adam did what Adam was supposed to do. He made pies, spoke to customers, wiped tables, and cleaned the counter. In the span of an hour, he had not managed to completely fend of the worry, but he had at least managed to make the monster stop from gnawing on the insides of his stomach. The thought of his text message never once left his mind, and in between tasks, he was constantly checking his phone to see if there was a reply. But he managed. He had to manage. Adam knew that this was just but a small event in his life. If Harmony would not show up today, then she would show up tomorrow. If she didn’t show up then, then he was sure that she had a good reason as to why. There was her email that he could contact. There was her number that he could call. Right? Right. He repeated these words to calm him; he asked Olivia to repeat these words to calm him. He could do this.

Then, finally, a woman did enter the shop. Adam wouldn’t have known it was Harmony Owens -- of course not. For one, he didn’t know how she looked like, and by that point, he’d thought she wouldn’t appear altogether. It was when she approached the counter, spoke, and asked him a question, that he thought of the possibility. Could it be? Who else would be looking for him? Well, there were lots who looked for him on most days, considering that his regulars brought their friends and family to come visit the shop. But he had to believe, hadn’t he? He had to feed his worry with something more substantial: hope. Adam looked to the woman that was before him, eyebrows raised in recognition as his name left her lips. “Yes! I’m Adam. Adam Farnsworth.”

Adam did not know who this woman was, but he hoped she was Harmony Owens. Adam did not know who this woman was, but she was looking for him. So, he wiped his hands on his apron, and then extended his right hand for a shake. “I’m Adam,” he said again as the smile on his lips grew. “I’m guessing two things: someone sent you, or that you’re Harmony Owens. Actually both scenarios would be good, but I would like to know which one it is for you.”  A small chuckle escaped him once he retracted his hand from her, though he waited patiently for a reply. Any reply from her could do one of the two things: either feed his worry, or disable it completely.