* 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗮 ╱ 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎

𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚...

[alinafm]

adam.

         he doesn’t miss a beat. “nope.” silence has always made him anxious. or, as close to anxious as adam griffin can get. “i don’t have enough hands for a torch,” he replies, gesturing at the documents in front of them. “i’m a little preoccupied. but hey.” he leans forward, ready to make a comment about alina sending mia his way when she gets back, but the mischievous glint in his eyes washed away by confusion. “wait, is she coming back? or is she gonna look for jobs out there?” he doesn’t know what she majored in, nor does he know what the job market looks like nowadays, but he doesn’t know why someone would bother going to school so far away if they were just going to come back after graduating. thalia excluded, of course, but she’s going to law school. adam doesn’t like to think where she’d be if she wasn’t headed to durham come fall.

          she rolls her eyes, unamused, dropping the documents she held in her hand and leaning back against her chair. really, she didn’t expect anything less from adam. “probably not.” she admits, unable to lie to herself or adam. besides, she’d rather focus on keeping the disappointment out of her voice. adam doesn’t need to know she has emotions. “she’s gone full la influencer. i don’t think she’d ever be able to come back. or live anywhere else.” without people thinking she’s insufferable, at least. if ali didn’t love her so goddamn much, she’d probably think the same thing. mia makes jokes about alina going out west to be with her and isra; sometimes, ali entertains the idea. she doesn’t think it’d ever feel like the right fit though, even if the only times she feels like herself again are when she’s with mia and isra and nora. or when she’s in the outer banks. 

[alinafm]

thalia.

alina must think she’s so funny. the never-ending quips, the poking of the bear. it should feel exhausting participating in any sort of exchange with her, and yet, some sinister piece of thalia actually enjoys this. it’s sharp—or, at least, the opposite of dull. it’s also a reminder of why she’s so much better off having the friends she does. her words aren’t cold like alina’s. they’re filled with fire. she rolls her eyes at ali’s comment on her ‘sustainable crap,’ but doesn’t let it irk her. instead, what gets to her is this sudden interest in claudio morales. “i’m not,” she says quickly, a little too fast, “exploring other avenues.” if this were adam, she’d have a harder time lying about it. but it’s not like she’s hoping to find anything through this. “just wanted to get some closure. that’s it. it seems like claudio knew adam’s dad, and—” thalia pauses. “it might be nice to hear about it. for adam.” it’s not a complete lie. it’s more of a half truth. not that alina is deserving of any sliver of the truth.

          when alina nods in response, it’s clear she doesn’t believe thalia. for once, she chooses to keep her mouth shut, or at least, bite her tongue. thalia’s conscience will likely do the rest of her work for her, so all she says is: “how very thoughtful of you,” she comments drily. she knows it’s likely not all a lie. with this group of people, even their most deceiving actions were lined with pure intentions; it’s not a pace she’s familiar with, but she’s beginning to recognize it more and more. “you really do work overtime to make up for all those years you left, huh?” that’s all she’s got for now, finally out of ammunition, which means she’s also gotten bored. with a sigh, she stands up from the couch. “so you’re still cleaning house tomorrow, right?” ali smiles again towards thalia.

[draumas]

[alinafm]

june twenty-eighth,  at charlie’s house   /   @ofyates​

          ali rarely steps foot in the yates household. it wasn’t even until they’d been friends more than a year that nora finally invited her over. people who know nora less would believe her excuses, how it’s out of the way, how it’s more convenient to meet at ali’s or isra’s or mia’s instead— alina isn’t one of those people. so she knows it’s all by nora’s design. she doesn’t mind. there are lies she tells herself too. alina’s sitting on the couch now, scrolling through her phone while she waits for nora to finish talking to her boyfriend. when she hears the door open, her eyes flit up briefly. she straightens her posture. “oh. hi, charlie.” the bonfire surges forward in her memory.

[comradc]

just a few of alina winthrop’s greatest hits, as written by @austenns

[alinafm]

thalia.

it’s a tale as old as time. her moms would always ask her growing up — why didn’t she have more female friends? they had never particularly liked adam, or charlie, or rome. but when girls like alina winthrop were the alternative, thalia always answered, she was better off with them. “not all women, just you,” she says flatly, not letting ali’s words throw her. she doesn’t satisfy alina’s next jab with a full-fledged response, she just sighs — it’s virtually impossible to get through to her. not that she wants to have an actual conversation, or anything. she just wants to leave. to gather these documents and never come back.

“you’re like a stain, alina. impossible to get out,” thalia says as she finds exactly what she’s looking for — an empty folder — on the desk on the other side of the room. a lot of things about their little adventure this summer would be different if anyone actually listened to her. she wouldn’t be having this conversation deep inside of enemy territory, for example. thalia pauses before heading back over to the coffee table, almost having to stop herself from saying you have a nice body, too. she freezes in the middle of sliding the correspondences inside of the folder, as soon as she mentions claudio by name. “what?” she says, genuinely surprised alina knows a single thing about what’s going on. “who said anything about claudio?” she asks, trying to play it off like this isn’t the sole reason she’s here. she can’t have this getting back to adam, getting his hopes up again. 

          she can’t help the smirk that pulls at her lips, the flash across her eyes; she’s almost flattered. “that might be an issue with your detergent. maybe your sustainable crap isn’t effective enough?” having a conversation with thalia is like a game of table tennis: their insults bounce back and forth with riveting precision. that isn’t the exciting part, though; no, that’s coming up right now. she’s still watching thalia, so she notices the falter in her step, easily registers the surprise in her voice. oh, how ali loves to get exactly what she wants. “that’s who the letters were written to, right? the ones you just picked up?” she’s showing more of her cards than she would normally, but the look on thalia’s face is worth it. “the name’s not really ringing a bell though. i didn’t realize you were exploring other avenues.” of course, she’s not just trying to inflict as much misery in thalia as she can; there’s a part of her that’s genuinely curious, otherwise alina would have left thalia to her devices two or three insults back.

[alinafm]

thalia.

perhaps they could have been friends, in a time before pogues and kooks, before hail mary treasure hunts, before all thalia knew were her boys. alina does have a particular wit to her, a sense of awareness that’s hard to come by in others. but knowing everything she does now, thalia pham understands that she and alina winthrop are just utterly, grossly, wildly incompatible. “pass. i don’t think we’ll be having sleepovers, braiding each other’s hair, and swapping beauty secrets any time soon,” she says, brushing past alina to start collecting things. as much as adam and rome would probably love to entertain that idea. “although, i can loan you some shampoo bars, if you want. they’re much more sustainable than whatever expensive shit you use. probably even better for your,” thalia turns to flick a strand of ali’s long, silky locks as she passes by, “hair.”

lia sits down as she looks over some of the documents left scattered across the coffee table near the couch. if she remembers correctly, this is where she saw the letters between claudio and thomas. buried under a plethora of other correspondences and photographs. “for something that’s none of your business,” she answers without looking up from the papers. when alina challenges her, finally, she glances back up. “what do you want me to say, alina? i’ll punch you in the face?” it’s partly a joke, but there’s some truth in it. there’s truth in everything she says. lia rises from her spot on the couch to search the room for an empty manila folder, a home for her findings. “i don’t know, i guess i’ll just have to leave you to your ice kingdom.” 

          ali shrugs, unbothered by thalia’s rejection. “probably not. i’ve been meaning to ask, do you have something against other women? that’s a bit anti feminist, don’t you think?” a grin splits her lips. though, despite all of alina’s talk, she’s been paying them more attention than thalia would expect. so she understands with painful awareness that their friendship has a certain equilibrium that shouldn’t be interrupted, that thalia fits in with charlie, adam, and rome seamlessly. she’s only ever thought that about her own friends. her hand reaches up to fix her hair. “no thanks, i like my expensive shit. nice to know you’re concerned about the state of my hair though. perhaps i’ll take a few bars then.”

she can never leave well enough alone, so she takes a seat across from lia, leaning forward. “you know, you keep saying that, but you guys have been doing a pretty bad job keeping me out of it.” with thalia so adamant about excluding her, alina amuses herself endlessly by constantly reminding thalia of her involvement. her features twist in disdain as she pulls back. “come on, you have to go for my face? that’s cold. it’s my only asset.” she watches as thalia moves through the room, deliberating with herself for a moment. “what do you want with that claudio guy anyway?” as i said, ali’s been paying attention.

[alinafm]

thalia.

thalia still can’t believe that alina almost died with them. near death experiences are supposed to be intimate, aren’t they ? she even found a way to ruin that. typical. she shifts her weight from one foot to another as alina replies, clearly not wanting to keep their conversation going. but lia can’t help but laugh at her question. “it’s amazing, you’re so self aware.” not once has she seen alina even look apologetic or guilty. and it’s not the kind of stubborn thalia is, either—it’s indifference. the quality she hates most.

“well, it didn’t scare adam off, that’s for sure.” she sighs. the words come out of her mouth before she can think to just shut down their conversation and retrieve what she needs from the guesthouse. she feels guilty just hearing them, knowing that adam is only doing this for a chance at getting his dad back. “i guess i’m someone, for now. i’m just grabbing a few things right now for—” thalia stops herself before she can reveal any of her plans with henri. alina doesn’t get to know that. “some stuff i have to do today. i’ll get the rest of it tomorrow. for free. if you promise to stay out of my way.”

“yeah, aren’t you proud?” alina laughs again and the sound is as light as a knife slicing through the air. it’s funny — the hostility in their conversation, how their laughs are laced with venom. “i think it might be all the time i’m spending with you, thalia,” she pauses, cocking her head as her gaze settles on the other. “maybe we can make it a regular thing, huh?” there’s a wicked glint in her eyes. she doesn’t mean a word that she says. 

she’s not surprised about what thalia says about adam. “just doesn’t know when to quit, huh,” she scoffs. it was typical of him, really, always the noble one, would rather go down with the ship than save himself sort of guy. and she’s pretty sure that the rest of them will go diving after him — one of those tragedies you can’t tear your eyes away from. alina twirls a lock of hair around her fingers absently, but she doesn’t miss when thalia cuts herself off. “for what?” although ali doesn’t expect an answer. she’s pretty sure that, if it was up to thalia, she wouldn’t be within five feet of this. “oh? and what’ll you do if i don’t?”

[alinafm]

adam.

“true, i don’t.” but she doesn’t dispute his claims further, leading him to think he wasn’t far off. “right, right,” he nods. “because i’m poor.”  except adam already knew alina wasn’t in it for the money; she’d said as much at the hospital. but he doesn’t point that out, having pushed her buttons enough. “just don’t say i never offered you anything.” seemingly unbothered, adam shrugs to himself and turns back to the documents in front of him, allowing her time to cool down. it doesn’t last long, with him quickly getting bored of the silence again. “i didn’t see mia last night. course, i was a little preoccupied,” he gestures to his bruised face with a hand that’s equally beat up. “she was never one to miss a party. did i miss her?”

it doesn’t take a genius to see that adam is only saying that to placate her, which pisses her off to no end. she doesn’t dignify adam with a response, only returns to what she had been doing before they started talking to one another. she’s finished with the conversation now, tired of being ridiculed though she’d never admit that’s how she felt. there’s silence for a few moments, but he pipes up once more. “do you ever get tired of hearing your own voice, adam?” she says, and it is both a taunt and a complaint. then he mentions mia, and she titters, her lips stretching into a smile. “what, still carrying a torch for her?” she pauses. “she’s in california for the summer.” at least, she hopes it’s only for the summer.

[alinafm]

adam.

“bullshit,” adam scoffs, more amused than offended by her dig. it isn’t lost on him that she went for an angle similar to the one braxton tried the previous night. “you’ve never done charity work in your life. unless it was, i don’t know, to keep up appearances on the campaign trail.” a beat. “or max forced you. and the first random act of kindness done of your own volition would never be for my benefit.” leaning back in his chair, adam breaks eye contact, eyes dropping to the table. “you’re not gonna hear me complain either way. i really do appreciate your help ali, and i just thought maybe if i knew what you wanted from all this i could sweeten the pot.” he meets her gaze again, a small smile on his face. “a display of my gratitude.” 

her insults usually land as intended, and with the mention of adam’s dad, she had been aiming to kill. but he shrugs her off like she is dirt on his shoulders. she’s more angry about that than she wants to be. “fuck off.” alina punctuates the sentence with a roll of her eyes. “you don’t know anything about me.” except he does. because he had been right about both of those things. he knows more about her than she would like. alina shakes her head, returning his gaze with contempt. “let’s not kid ourselves, adam, like there’s anything i want that you could give me.”

[alinafm]

adam.

even as he asks the question, adam’s confident that she isn’t going to give him a real answer. when she proves him right by redirecting the question, a smug smile crosses his lips. “it really doesn’t matter,” he answers honestly. all that matters is that she is helping, but he knows he has to keep her interest for her to stay involved, so he’s searching for his angle. “i’m still curious. it’s hard to believe you’d ever do anything that didn’t benefit you somehow, and i don’t know how this does.” he holds her gaze, an eyebrow raised in challenge of her deflection. “but i guess the reason’s personal enough that you wanna keep it from me?” he nods. “noted.”

“then why ask?” she deadpans, only annoyed because she didn’t have a satisfying answer to give him. truthfully, she couldn’t even come with an unsatisfying answer to herself. more often than not, she just found herself coming along to things, with no real reason to say no. not that she’s ever needed a reason to say no to anything, but still — she can’t seem to bring herself to do it. “or maybe i just feel bad for you,” alina says, and she doesn’t break his gaze. “nothing personal, just good old-fashioned charity.”

[alinafm]

don.

don almost rolls his eyes again at her dramatic distaste for tap water, but refrains, if only because he’s trying to avoid the headache that so much eye-rolling could induce. he’s conscious of not letting alina ruin his day completely. he hums to her gracious offer, and continues to load bottles into the fridge in silence. distantly, he hopes this will be the end of it, and that they can awkwardly say bye and get on with their days after. but he doesn’t find himself too upset when she speaks again. “yeah,” he lies in response. he doesn’t think there’s a treasure. he thinks they’re humoring a mourning friend, and quite frankly, he thinks it’s starting to go too far. and as much as her question begs for honesty, he can’t bring himself to give it to her; he doesn’t trust her like that. and he’s not desperate enough to talk about it that he would admit to it to anyone, he can still lie. “i think it has to be somewhere. and i think we can find it.” he pauses and looks up at her. “you really don’t?” his tone is not accusatory – it couldn’t be, given he doesn’t believe it himself. but he’s curious. 

his answer catches her by surprise so much that she forgets that he could be lying to her. alina raises her brows, stopping what she’s doing for a moment to stand straight. “c’mon, aren’t you supposed to be the smart one, don?” half the time she thinks they’re chickens running around with their heads cut off, but not don. if he was following along with all of this, ali always thought it was just to humor his friends, not because he believed in all of it himself. “i mean, sure, i think it’s somewhere. it all seem pretty real to me, the history and whatever — but i’d think someone else would have found it by now. that much money? you can’t tell me that no one else in the world is looking for it too. and they might be a hell of a lot more capable than a couple of twenty-somethings.” alina shrugs her shoulders. “but maybe that’s just me.”

[alinafm]

adam.

the pair begins their work without another word. while it is probably the most effective way to get through the amount of reading they are up against, adam has never been good with silence. alina isn’t his first choice of conversation partner, but there is a question she can answer that’s been on his mind since the first time they were at the archives. “why are you helping us?” despite the tensions in the group, he can’t bring himself to refer to the hunt as a solo project. “you don’t need the money, you don’t like us—or, most of us.” she seems to get along fine with henri and rome. “what are you getting out of this?” a smile tugs at adam’s features as he rests his elbows on the table and leans in slightly closer. “you might have to carry me out of here if you tell me you secretly love archival research.”

if she had it her way, they’d continue without conversation. they aren’t friends, and they’ve exchanged words but she can’t remember a time she’s held a real conversation with adam. the question he asks is one she’s been dreading. she doesn’t have an answer to give that would satisfy either of them. if she had been any smarter, she would’ve had one ready. “why does it matter to you?” she retorts, tossing a newspaper into a pile she’s designated as irrelevant. "ever heard of the saying don’t bite the hand that feeds you?” alina finally raises her head to look at him, mocking the smile on his face.

[alinafm]

thalia.

she can’t understand how any of the others put up with alina, even for the few short days they spent together. pretty people get away with whatever they want, she supposes. pretty, rich people especially. sure, alina’s hot—but thalia’s convinced she doesn’t have a soul. and that’s the more important quality, in her book.

lia rolls her eyes as hard as she possibly can as the other girl goes on. alina’s always looking for a way to bother her, and the sad truth is, she has a one hundred percent success rate. it’s a miracle that thalia hasn’t broken her nose, or something. she wouldn’t want to give rome the cat fight he so desperately wants to watch. “yeah, that’s called using your privilege for the greater good, aka being decent person 101.” she grips the keychain on her car keys in her pocket. thalia really doesn’t want to share anything with alina, but she should probably know that they’re abandoning her guesthouse for a shot at normalcy this summer. “we literally got shot at. what do you think?” lia narrows her eyes. “lucky you. you don’t have to pretend like you have any actual investment in this thing anymore.”

thalia’s buttons have always been easy to push, and, sure, alina likes a challenge from time to time but she’ll always go for the easy kill. and thalia never fails to amuse her. “when have i ever been a decent person?” alina laughs and it comes out like a breath. she’s looking down, examining her nails. she really needs to go and get a manicure soon. 

still, as detached from the conversation that she is, she understands quickly what thalia is implying. her fingers curl into a loose fist as she looks up and meets thalia’s gaze. “i didn’t think it would be so easy to scare you guys off.” it is maybe just a shade too insensitive. after all, even she is still grappling with the aftermath of the break in. sometimes, she can still hear the shot ring in her ears, adam’s heart pounding in his chest as she gripped onto him. still. “thank god,” she says, almost like an afterthought. “is someone gonna come by and make sure to clean everything out? i can get someone to do it, but i’m assuming someone wants to keep all this junk?”

[alinafm]

adam.

adam’s impatient nature doesn’t serve him in the archives. he has to remind himself to pay attention to what he’s looking at before he starts, and even then he finds his mind wandering when nothing immediately jumps off the page. it’s going to be a long night. he looks up as alina breaks the silence; a spark of amusement flashes on his face, drawing out the closest thing to a smile his expression has seen since the bonfire. “can i?” he asks with an eyebrow raised. as in, will you help me if i ask? it doesn’’t bother him that she isn’t helping; he is aware of who he brought along, and she’s not going to do anything that doesn’t directly benefit her. but as soon as the challenge comes out of his mouth, a lightbulb goes off; maybe alina wants to be there even less than she wants to do any work. “so will you help? we’ll get outta here a lot faster if you do.”

alina mocks the expression on adam’s face. “that’s kind of the idea, isn’t it?” she responds, rolling her eyes. she puts her phone down on the table and drags a box of files closer to her. this process is made slightly more difficult by the fact that she’s paid almost no attention to what they discuss the few times she’s been around. after taking thomas’s files from the lighthouse, she knew that each of them came from time to time to rifle through his things in an effort that alina is sure will end in vain. she, of course, never did; this wasn’t her body to bury. but now she’s going in blind. alina pulls out a stack of old newspapers, and rifles through the headlines disinterestedly. nothing stands out. it’s hard to believe that anything will at all.

[alinafm]

adam.

he can feel every single one of his relationships shift as he digs further into his father’s disappearance. his obsession with finding answers is permeating every facet of his life, but he can’t bring himself to stop. and even though alina has remained comfortingly antagonistic, the tension in the air as he drives to the archives is different than the one he usually feels with her. it’s likely his fault; adam’s not in the mood for their usual back and forth, which actually makes him feel worse. for someone who just wanted to be treated normally, he’s been doing a terrible job acting his usual self. “i’m gonna go back over what we pulled last time. we ran off as soon as we found anything, i think we could’ve missed something.” he doesn’t include her in the plans, figuring that she would sit on her phone like she did last time.

there’s not much that goes on around town, not much that had been going on at the bonfire, so she hadn’t missed the fact that adam walked in the opposite direction from his friends after nora broke up the fight. any other day she would’ve already commented but adam is so obviously not himself that it’s painful to even speak. she nods, pursing her lips. “alright.” they aren’t friends so when adam conveniently excludes her, she doesn’t complain or offer to help. instead, alina finds the nearest table and chair, watching as adam begins to rifle through all the documents. it’s a tedious process, and she’s not sure how he thinks he’ll be able to find anything with just him looking. “you know you can just ask for my help,” alina finally says with a clipped tone.

[alinafm]

slurred words !

          “henri?” alina brightens at his name before finishing the rest of her drink. “oh, he’s the best! we met a couple years ago when i was back for a summer. i accidentally walked into a shot he was taking of the beach.” alina recalls the memory with a fondness reserved only for a select amount of people in her life. she’s not sure how many drinks she’s had already, but it’s probably bordering on too much. she uses the back of her hand to wipe her mouth before continuing. “i mean, i did make the photo better. obviously.” he’d given her the photo at the end of that summer. she has it pinned to her wall to this day. it’s a good photo of her though she rarely photographs badly. still, she enjoys the way she appears in it, the accidental nature of it, how her head has just turned to the camera, mouth slightly ajar in the beginning of an apology. there’s a few moments of silence before she remembers something else. “did you know that don bailey’s his cousin? i had no idea until just a few weeks ago. to be honest, i’m surprised they could be related when henri is so much more fun and outgoing than don is. henri even signed my cast! look.” she points at the only other signature on her cast besides max’s. she launches into the story about how she broke her ankle, rendering henri a forgotten topic. / @ofhenri