It's like one, two, three, [fuck it] I'm about to take this drink and just stuff it Fish tank this thing along with four more shots of Patron Don't give a fuck about going home Straight buzzin', Robotussin Wanna get your mitts in my oven? [Wanna get a lick of this lovin'?] If you wanna get with me There's some things you gotta know I like my beats fast and my bass down low
“I know you do, half the time I think you’re going all Victorian and start having three outfit changes a day.”
“Not every day.” She countered, wrinkling her nose at him, although he wasn’t entirely wrong. “My image is very important, Gabriel. I’ve got a lot of eyes on me.”
“By myself, of course,” Flynn chuckled and downed the first whiskey, grabbing the bottle from the bloke behind the bar. “I’ll take care of this, mate.”
“Of course.” She agreed with a roll of her eyes, although she had always admired his self confidence. Annabelle watched as he swiped the bottle, raising an eyebrow. “A bit ambitious, don’t you think?”
Connor smiled and put an arm around her shoulder. “Maybe I like spoiling you. And you’re right. You don’t deserve me. You deserve someone much better.”
“Oh, stop it.” She scoffed, hitting him lightly on the arm before leaning heavily into his side, her head on his shoulder.
Annabelle was sitting on the couch, her foot tapping restlessly against the floor. She had put something on the television, and it flickered inanely in the dark room. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there, but Gabriel wasn't home yet, so it couldn't be too late. She felt like she was shaking, despite the blanket she'd wrapped around herself, holding tight. It wasn't him. It couldn't be. It wasn't him. It wasn't him. He was dead. She repeated it in her head like a mantra, over and over. The man she'd seen on the street wasn't Leo, it couldn't be - it was just someone who looked like him, or maybe no one at all, just a desperate plea from her still broken heart. After all, he had disappeared as soon as she'd stopped to take a double take. It wasn't him. He was dead.
Her mind wandered, replaying the days she'd lost him. She remembered it so clearly, the day Major had handed her the letter silently. Missing in action. MIA - it had always been a term used in jest with her friends before, but in that moment, it was the furthest thing from funny. She'd never used it again. Leo was missing. Looking over the top of the paper with wide eyes, she tried not to cry in front of his brother. She had simply nodded and handed it back, squeezing his arm as she walked past. Annabelle had sat on Leo's bed for hours, crying, staring at the wall when she had run out tears, curling up and falling asleep. They had spent so many nights there together - was that all over now?
That had been one of the worst nights in her life - another letter came in the mail a few months later. A letter that looked almost identical to the first. They said it had been too long. They said there had been explosions in the same areas he was likely to be. They said they had tried their best, but the likelihood of him surviving was almost non-existent at that point. They said he was dead. And that's when it all had really fallen apart. She wondered, not for the first time, how Major was doing. She had grown very fond of the boy when they were younger, and was filled with no end of shame for how things had turned out. After Leo was gone, he had gone into the system, and at first she'd tried to keep in contact, stay friends. But he had pushed her away, and she had let him. She was young, and heartbroken, and it was easier to let go of all the reminders. Still, she was the older one. She was supposed to be more mature, step up and do the right thing. She should have fought harder, done more for him - he was going through the same thing she was. There were a lot of things she should have done, but that was a moot point now. She hadn't reached out to Major in years, and it had been even longer since she'd heard from him. She wasn't sure now whether it would help or hurt to change that.
Annabelle shook herself as her phone chirped, eyes flicking toward it. Connor. She couldn't talk to him right now. He knew about Leo - after all, he was Eleanor’s brother, and Len had been there when it happened. But he didn't know that she'd never stopped loving him, never gotten over him. That Annabelle had accepted he was gone only because she had to, but not because she was healed. That she was trying desperately not to think of him when she lay awake at night. And sometimes, she didn't. Sometimes she could listen to his breathing, with her ear over his chest, counting his heartbeats, and Leo disappeared. But now was not one of those times. She knew she loved Connor, cared for him very deeply - she thought she just needed more time.
Her thoughts drifted once more, this time to the letter she had buried in the bottom of a shoe box in her closet - Leo's box. It had arrived only a few days after the first, the one that announced he was missing, and she hadn't been able to bring herself to open it. It must have been the last thing he did before whatever it was that had happened to him, and five years later, she still hadn't opened it. It was all she had left of him, and she didn't even know what it said. That thought is what spurned her on, and she uncurled her stiff limbs, her blanket falling to the floor as she hurried to her bedroom. Dropping to her knees, she pulled the box out, yanking the lid off and searching through to the bottom with trembling fingers. It was there - just where she knew it would be. She stood slowly, staring at the front. Her name. His writing. It brought tears to her eyes but she blinked them away, sitting numbly on the end of her bed and waiting for her heart to slow before she turned it over, tearing the seal.
She could almost hear his voice as she read, and eventually she lost the battle with herself, a single tear falling slowly down her cheek. It wasn’t unlike his prior letters - all tucked away in the same box, but opened, thoroughly dissected, and answered long ago - detailing whatever had been happening on the base at the time. Annabelle smiled fleetingly as he described a prank one of the juniors had pulled on their commander, and for a second, she thought she could hear the ghost of his laughter joining hers. Had he been smiling when he wrote it, as he replayed it in his head for her? Laughing? Had he been in a rush? Taking his time? She had so many questions - but she read on. She swallowed around a lump in her throat as he wrote about the detail he’d been assigned to - leaving the next morning in a convoy. This had been one of the last things he’d done before he’d left - before he’d gone missing.
But more than anything, her eyes were glued to the last few words on the page.
I can’t wait to be home with you again. Never forget how much I love you.
All my love, Leo.
Her tears came in earnest now, and she lowered the letter, resting her hand on her lap as the other came up to cover her mouth. She felt her hair sliding across her shoulders, and realized she had been shaking her head back and forth, as if trying to argue with the universe that it wasn’t real. She wasn’t sure she should have opened it - it was like her heart was breaking all over again. Like her only partly healed wounds had been ripped open once more, as tender and painful as the day they’d occurred.
She found herself back in front of her closet, pulling every item out of the small box - all of his letters, an old shirt, a couple of framed pictures, the locket she used to wear around her neck. Opening it, she stared at the small picture of him before closing it once more and fisting her fingers around the cool metal, turning her attention to one of the pictures of the two of them. She looked so much younger than only five years ago - had she really changed that much? Annabelle rubbed her finger across the dusty glass, wiping it away from his face, looking at it clearly for the first time since she’d packed up her stuff and left his house.
Erick laughed, “Sushi is perfect.” He missed her but he knew he had to keep his distance. He was going to spill something about his life and she was going to read him like a book. It was always so hard to lie to her. “I could probably eat like five rolls right now. Im starving.” he admitted.
Tilting her head at his words, she decided not to comment, instead nodding for him to follow her as she started off. "There's actually a pretty decent place around the corner, I think even you'd approve." She teased. "Trust me?" Annabelle asked, raising a brow.
Connor smiled back. “Take out it is. Chinese or Mexican?”
She thought it over for a second, making a face as she considered her options. "Chinese - from that little place we found last month? With the killer egg rolls?"
“Yeah yeah, Well if you arent free then lets head somewhere.” Erick said ith a smile. he was nervous as hell but he couldn’t show that on the outside. “We can go where ever you want”
Annabelle smiled, relaxing slightly at the idea of food. Now that she thought about it, she was actually really hungry, and it had been a while since she'd talked to Erick, which was probably part of the reason her stomach was tied in knots. "Oh god, okay." This time, she actually had an answer ready. "Sushi? Or do you hate that now or something?"
Annabelle sighed as she thought, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger absentmindedly. "I don't really feel like going out." She decided, glancing over at him with a smile. "Take out?"
“It would be seen as pretty crazy if you forgot me,” Flynn nodded, resting his hand on the bar and ordering himself a whiskey. “How have you been doing? Or shall we skip the pleasantries?”
"Oh, yeah? By who?" She asked, voice overly innocent before she dissolved into a wide smile. It was good to see him. "Skip the pleasantries? And move onto.... what, exactly?"
“God forbid it clash with your hair,” Kayla teased with a laugh. “Blonde hairties it is then.”
"Kayla." She leveled, putting a hand on her hip. "I will not be shamed for my hair tie preferences. If they didn't want them to match your hair they wouldn't make them."
Erick then remembered Duke was the other half of her band and found himself carring even less. “Are you free now? or do you want to meet another day. I got a new phone,” he explained pulling the device from his pocket. He held it out for her to take, “Here add our number?” he questioned.
Annabelle took his phone, holding it for just a second before starting to type. She wasn't sure if it was the greatest idea, but whether she liked it or not, she did miss his company sometimes. "Today's probably best, actually. Lots of.... meetings and such, you know how it goes."
“Except for New Year’s resolutions,” he teased, taking a sip from his coffee to hide his amusement. “And the laundry.”
"Okay, you don't know that because I don't make resolutions." She countered, pointing her finger toward him as she spoke. "And I've got a lot of clothes, whatever."
Erick squinted at her, he could still read her like a book. She was still as beautiful as the day they met. “Ah Duke, How is he?” Erick couldn’t remember who duke was. He kicked himself mentally, “Well tell your brother I said hello, I'm sure he’s doing well annndddd” He took an awkward breath, ”If you’re around and not busy we should Get lunch or something.”
“Duke’s fine.” She said simply, getting the feeling that he didn’t really particularly care one way or the other how Duke was. “Umm....” Annabelle hummed the word as she thought, before meeting his gaze again and nodding. “Sure, yeah. Yeah, lunch sounds good, let’s do that.”
“Oh, that’s Braxley.” Sierra smiled. “He’s my cute guy.”
"That's literally, like, the cutest thing ever." Annabelle practically cooed, sighing dreamily at how happy her friend looked. "Give me at least some details. Let me live vicariously through you."