country strong

bailey nelson, baby of the nelsons and another white girl who likes horses and whiskey. there's probably like, ten country songs about me.

[byebailey-blog]

.bamfblair:

We are the best. I love us too. People aspire to be on our level, boo.

Umm, soz, boo. Yuppers, it’s Robbo! But, ya know I love you just as much. Ugh. You can’t make me pick a fave, ‘cause then I’ll just hide and you’ll have to choose between saving your horse from a poop-induced death, or finding and loving me.

1. Stop being afraid to love me the most. 2. Don’t let PETA see that threat.

[byebailey-blog]

.bamfblair:

Wooooahhh, for reals? Okay, you need to send that to me. Or we read it together. Either way, I need to know more about this pronto. Gross, and yet I’m intrigued.

Right?! See, you get it. This is why I keep you around. No, that’s a lie. I keep you around ‘cause I like having two super hot bezzies who give good hugs and let me spam them with cat memes.

Next sleepover, we’re gonna read about people’s deaths by shit. We’re the best, I love us.

Ugh, is the other one Robbie. I am so over everyone pretending he’s on my level. Just admit I’m your faaaave!

[byebailey-blog]

.bamfblair:

Ooohhhh, true, true. That wouldn’t be so cheery, hm? Pooping yourself to death sounds kinda embarrassing, even for a horse.

Right? Who could resist Blair cuddles? Only someone in need of medical attention. And bitchy kittens, apparently. I’ll recover though, I’ll keep strong.

I just googled ‘has anyone ever pooped themselves to death’ and there’s like, a whole Wiki article called ‘Toilet-related injuries and death’. Totes bookmarking that for later.

That kitten doesn’t know what it’s missing because I happen to know that Blair cuddles are the best things like, ever.

[byebailey-blog]

.bamfblair:

D’awh, Bails! You’re a mom. Look at you go, boo. Better than cleaning real horse poop, I’ll bet?

Oh, kitty was fine! Kitty was more than fine, actually. But I wanted a cuddle, and random stranger’s kitty did not? Can you believe the sheer offence of it? I’m gutted, Bails, my heart’s all torn apart!

Actually real horse poop is less stressful. Real horses don’t poop this much and it usually doesn’t result in imminent death when they do.

Ugh, that kitty sounds like a bitch.

[byebailey-blog]

.bamfblair:

So when I was having my hour-long crisis and chasing a pretty white kitty through the halls of Messina, and you didn’t respond to my facetime, this is why? Bailey, boo, i’m hurt. Is he at least doing okay? Did Stompo survive what sounds like the most violent bout of diarrhea ever?

He’s lived 189 days. I’ve been doing this for nearly two hours. Just staring at my screen. Cleaning up virtual horse poop.

Was the kitty okay?

[byebailey-blog]

So like, if I don’t respond to anyone’s texts, DM’s, phone calls or handwritten letters today it’s because I’m trying to stop my Tumblr horse from pooping himself to death. I got you, Stompo.

[byebailey-blog]

So like, if I don’t respond to anyone’s texts, DM’s, phone calls or handwritten letters today it’s because I’m trying to stop my Tumblr horse from pooping himself to death. I got you, Stompo.

[confessmessina-blog]

jeez, that hawkins guy is a mess.

(via confessmessina)

Uh, how dare you disrespect Sir Floof! That’s how people get ugly. He’s easily one of the cutest people I know.

[confessmessina-blog]

adam seems protective of dakota. trying to befriend mack to get in with her sister?

(via confessmessina)

Okay, but this is wrong.

[confessmessina-blog]

the nelson girls are kinda hot but the dark haired one seems like a stone cold bitch

(via confessmessina)

PICTURE ME FIGHTING YOU.

[confessmessina-blog]

how is that tasty EMT still single? an injustice of grand proportions.

(via confessmessina)

I’m gonna need a background check on pretty much anyone that tries to snatch up the bestie, but otherwise he’s pretty much free game. Do your worst.

(via mackfts)

[byebailey-blog]

TUMBLR DM: CEDRIC

Bailey: sir floof, i heard it was your birthday today so i just wanted to say happy birthday!!!!!

Bailey: and i'm still sorry for bumping into you and making you scared and also sort of stealing your paperweight

[byebailey-blog]

TEXT: BLAIR

Bailey: OMG! happy birthday bae!!!

Bailey: CAN B SQUARED CELEBRATIONS HAPPEN SOON, PLS ND THANKS

[byebailey-blog]

.mackfts:

.dakotaduh:

“I’m going to the bar!” Dakota raised her voice over the heavy bass, her face buried in her elder sister’s hair as she yelled.

Pulling back, however, Dakota quickly realised that no matter how loud she yelled, it was clear that Mack was going to stare at with that confused, pointed look, her eyebrows arching upward and her face contorted into confusion as she attempted to figure out what Dakota was saying. Dropping her shoulders in a heavy sigh, the brunette began to wave animatedly in the direction of the bar, flailing her arms and nearly dislodging a few drunk girls in too-tall heels as she did so. Sure Mack understood just where she was headed to, she left her sister to dance animatedly as she elbowed her way through a crowd.

Dakota was uncomfortable. The neon lights blaring down on her and the copious amounts of drunk partygoers were definitely more Bailey’s scene, and not her own. Dakota wouldn’t be seen dead in any kind of club, especially one that promoted itself through a variety of themes. Looking around though, Dakota wasn’t entirely sure what the ‘theme’ of tonight was, unless, ‘sweaty, tacky and tasteless’ constituted as a theme.

Leaning against the sticky bar, Dakota pushed a hand through her hair, (which had been tugged at, teased and flattened by her barrage of siblings before she’d headed out the front door), only to wrinkle her nose as she realised just how sweaty and disgusting she felt. And in a place like this, she was sadly only two steps away from ‘tacky’ and ‘tasteless’. She had so much hair, how did girls cope?

Giving in, Dakota slipped a hair tie from around her wrist, scraping the damp, sweaty strands off her cheeks and into a messy ponytail atop her head. Then she quickly went to work tugging down her outfit, which clung to her uncomfortably. Thankfully, she’d managed to swap out a dress for a white playsuit, decorated with soft lace around the collar. It had been something very much dug out from the back of her wardrobe, unworn since Camden’s big sister’s Summer wedding three years ago. She was just pleased it still fit, and that she was in no danger of flashing her, frankly unflattering, bright orange boyshorts. 

Quickly realising the bartender was going to keep ignoring her in favour of customers who were willing to smile, Dakota sighed, spinning and searching for her sisters among the crowd. She found Bailey quickly enough to see her disentangling from a stranger, his hand sliding somewhere Dakota had no desire to think about. Her brows drew into an angry furrow, crossing her arms in annoyance as Bailey spotted her, sidling over.

“It’s too hot in here.” Dakota commented, pointedly ignoring Bailey’s comment about finding a boy for her to kiss. Either Bailey was drunk, stupid, or tactless, and Dakota didn’t think she was much of the second. But she had no interest in meeting another boy sometime soon, possibly ever. You couldn’t just pick up a soulmate at a Countdown. 

“I left her over there somewhere.” Dakota explained, gesturing vaguely to a throng of people. “I got tired of dancing and wanted a drink.”

Having somehow coaxed Dakota out of her apartment for a venture into the big, bad world of skeezy nightclubs, Bailey had worked her charm on Mack next, insisting on the three of them spending the night dancing and drinking their troubles away. Admittedly, she’d failed on her attempts with Lana, and Mack wasn’t entirely sure Dakota’s troubles could be drunk or danced away, but it was the thought that counted. With Roy insisting he couldn’t spend the night with her, too caught up in some unavoidable poker session with ‘the boys’, Mack had opted for a night of laying on the couch pelting skittles at Adam while they watched the Indiana Jones marathon that happened to be airing.

She’d successfully managed to hit him on the nose with four skittles, had landed three down his shirt, while he’d masterfully caught the other six in his mouth – ugh, show off – when Bailey (with Dakota, rather reluctantly, in tow) had unapologetically skipped into their apartment without so much as a knock on the door. With some frantic insistence from Bailey, some much less enthusiastic prodding from Dakota, and a literal poke in the ribs from Adam, she’d eventually groaned and given in, before turning on Adam and insisting that he join them. Ignoring the smirk that Dakota tried to hide, and the much less subtle snicker from Bailey, she had glared at her best friend when he’d declined her offer. Whatever, his loss. Or maybe not, given that he was the one spending the night in with Harrison Ford.

After quickly slipping into something much less comfortable, and far more revealing than the sweatpants and hoody combo she’d been sporting moments before, she’d paraded around the front room in her slinky dress – even managing to momentarily unhinge Adam’s jaw (a feat that she took quiet, and shameful, pride in). With that, they had set off for what was supposed to be a fun night of sisterly bonding.

But now she was stranded on the dancefloor. Alone. Well, not quite alone, given that she was surrounded by various other club goers who seemed to be attempting some washed out, basic white girl version of what a twerk was supposed to look like, with her sisters nowhere to be seen. Bailey had abandoned the pair of them for a few hot minutes with some guy she’d just met, and shortly after Dakota had disappeared off to the bar, looking as though she wished she could be absolutely anywhere else in the world in that moment. Deciding it was better to just leave her sister to herself, and not hound her should she need a moment to clear her mind, Mack stayed rooted to the dancefloor, absent mindedly swaying on the spot before getting bored and heading back to the table they’d commandeered earlier on.

Shuffling into the booth, she stared glumly at her phone as she watched an array of smug snapchats from Adam who, somehow, looked like he was having the time of his life back in their apartment. No texts from Roy, however, who she was certain must be having more fun than she was right now. After a few minutes of aimlessly double tapping every selfie Bailey had ever posted to instagram, she suddenly became aware that she was no longer alone. Glancing up, she noticed a man sitting beside her, a soft smile on his lips as he patiently waited for her to acknowledge him.

“Oh, um… Hey?” Quirking an eyebrow, she stared at the stranger, unsure what he wanted with her. While she was fully aware just how hot she looked, and that she was well capable of catching the attention of men and women alike, she wasn’t in the mood to entertain, nor let down, some poor bastard. “These seats are actually taken, sorry, bud. My sisters are gonna be, like, right back.”

At her words his smile grew, and he nodded knowingly. Aw shit, had they met before?

“It’s cool, I saw you guys hanging out earlier,” he admitted. Nodding, but still not smiling, Mack waited for the line to come. So he’d seen them enter, and had probably seen Bailey getting cosy in the corner, and now he probably wanted to know if Mack was up for something.

Instead of confirming her assumptions, however, he carefully pushed a glass towards her, tapping it and then nodding tow, before adding, “Your sister, the brunette? She went to the bar, her hands were full so she asked me to bring this over to you.”

Frowning now, Mack glanced at the drink. Sure, Dakota had gone to the bar, but she wasn’t about to just take a drink from a total stranger. It could be anything. Lifting the glass, she leaned forward to get a whiff of it, before being pleasantly surprised by the familiarity of it. Okay, so she had been rum and coke all night, and Dakota had probably gone to find Bailey and make sure she was okay.

Sighing, she offered him a vague smile before placing the glass to her lips and taking one quick gulp, before removing herself from the booth in an attempt to end that conversation. “Thanks, I think I’ll go find them though.”

With that, she turned on her heels and tried to do exactly what she’d told him, while taking another swig of the drink as she worked her way through the crowds of people. He was probably nice, or whatever, but she didn’t feel like making small talk with a total stranger, and she’d rather check to see that her sisters were alright.

As the music blasted around her, a dull ache started to form in the side of her head. Shaking it off, she forged on before losing her footing and stumbling into somebody, instinctively sticking an arm out to settle herself, gripping on to the strangers’ arm. Feeling dizzy now, she glanced up to thank whoever it was, only to realise that it was the same guy from before. Did he follow her from the booth? What the hell?

“What are you– Holy shit, did you–?” she tried to ask, finally putting two and two together even in her newfound state of nausea. Head spinning, and her legs wobbling beneath her, she pulled her hand away from him before edging backwards and further onto the dancefloor.

He wasn’t interested in seeing her off, however, evident from the arm he snaked around her, his hand resting on her lower back.

Bailey scrunched up her nose in disapproval when Dakota ignored her suggestion. Mack and Lana had both told her not to poke and prod Dakota about boys, but Bailey just wanted to see her sister happy again, and she had never seen her as happy as she used to be with Camden. But Camden wasn’t here anymore and in Bailey’s alcohol-addled opinion, the only thing that could truly bring that carefree grin back to her sister’s face was another man.

“Kotaaaa,” she whined, a pout on her face. She twirled a lock of her sister’s brown hair around her finger and the pout became more prominent.

“You have such pretty hair, it isn’t fair,” she huffed, looking at her own blonde tresses that resembled hay more than hair. As she pinched it between her fingers, she gagged at the feeling of some unidentifiable sticky liquid in it, suddenly desperate for a shower.

“Why did you let Mack go off on her own?” she asked when she couldn’t find her older sister. She wasn’t annoyed at Dakota for any sort of reasons related to safety or Mack’s wellbeing in a skeevy club, but for entirely selfish reasons. Bailey was made up of sugar and spice and, according to those who knew her, a selfish streak that rivalled Veruca Salt’s. She liked being spoiled and she loved getting her own way, and Mack wandering off on her own with cell phone access wasn’t even close to Bailey’s own way.

“Ugh, she’s probably away texting Roy and asking him to come pick her up. And I hate Roy,” she stated firmly. A long, frustrated groan sounded from her as she threw what could only be described as a lowkey temper tantrum, bouncing on the balls of her feet and scowling at Dakota who looked as unfazed as ever.

A familiar sight across the dance floor stopped Bailey’s incessant movements though and the frown on her face was swiftly wiped away by a bright smile.

“Never mind, found her!” she cheered, waving wildly at Mack who looked otherwise preoccupied.

“And she’s with a dude. That isn’t Roy! I mean, he’s no Adam but we can’t afford to be picky right now,” she giggled, grabbing Dakota’s arm and shaking it excitedly as she watched the man snake an arm around their sister’s waist. If they started making out right there, Bailey would automatically make a pact to never tell Roy. And she was sure that even Dakota, queen of morals as she was, would promise so as well. But then Bailey caught the look on Mack’s face and her smile faded.

“Does… does Mack look okay to you?” she asked, her lips by Dakota’s ear so her sister would be sure to hear her and realise she was sounding serious for once.

[byebailey-blog]

Bailey Nelson was just as comfortable at parties as she was on horseback. Knocking back vodka shots came as naturally to her as racing around barrels, two completely opposing talents but ones she was very proud of, thank you very much. Her ability to balance on top of a moving horse didn’t stretch as far as being able to wobble around on high heels though, which was why her ankle boots were a common sight whenever she wandered into a bar.

What wasn’t a common sight, was two of her sisters accompanying her. Whenever she managed to prise Mack away from Roy or Adam, Bailey did. But it was rare for Dakota to join them at a club or even just to the nearest pub outside Messina. Bailey was relentless though, encouraging her big sister to join her and Mack on a night out. Ever since the incident with Camden, Bailey had tried to be as subtle as possible when coaxing Dakota out of her shell but, according to Mack, Bailey was as subtle as a bull in a china shop, something the blonde might have taken offence at if it hadn’t been true. Nevertheless, she was finally successful in getting Dakota to pull her ponytail out of its elastic band, forcing her sister to exchange her bow and arrow for fruity cocktail that she’d promised she would like. Unfortunately, she hadn’t managed to wrestle Lana away from her book which meant it wasn’t a full Nelson sister outing, but Bailey was counting herself lucky where she could.

After tangling Dakota’s fingers in her own, twirling her sister under her arm, she had bestowed the brunette onto Mack as soon as a good-looking guy had placed his hand on her waist and murmured a hello in her ear.

Five minutes later saw her with her hands fisted in the front of his beer splattered t-shirt, chasing the taste of cheap booze on his lips as they made out against the wall of the club. She could feel his hand sliding up her side, inching closer and closer to second base. At once, she giggled against his mouth and uncurled her fingers from the material of his shirt to push his hand away. He pulled back, looking confused and slightly annoyed.

“Well, that was fun!” she told him chirpily. The puzzlement etched onto his face only deepened when she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and gave him a final, brief peck.

“Byeeee!” she called to him as she twirled away, pushing herself back through the crowd in search of her sisters. It didn’t take her long to find Dakota, hanging around the bar by herself. Immediately, she ran up to her sister, throwing her arms around Dakota’s neck and giggling.

“He was cuuuuute. He was cute, don’t you think? We should find you a cute guy to mack on!” she insisted, nodding seriously. “Hey, speaking of Macks, where’s Nelson numero dos?”

Using Dakota’s shoulder as leverage, Bailey stretched onto her tiptoes, her scuffed boots lifting her so she could peer around the club in search of her other sister.

[byebailey-blog]

.wtfcedric:

Hand still trembling and his heart rate picking up at an alarming pace, Cedric’s lower lip wobbled as he tried hopelessly not to completely break down in front of the girl. As her dog whined and scratched away at the ground, eagerly trying to break free of her hold and approach Cedric, he shivered and flinched away from the motion. He wasn’t afraid of the dog, and he’d always found comfort in any form of animal but, with his current state of pure anxiety and all the dizzying thoughts coursing through him, he wasn’t entirely sure he was best suited for doggy kisses and cuddling at present.

Having been avoiding her gaze all along, opting to stare at the floor, or at the dog, or even more pointedly at the sky, his head shot towards her when he heard her words. He’d known people to be blunt with him, countless times, but usually the words were far crueller. Of course, the nature of her questioning wasn’t enough to contain the dread that filled his stomach, and he merely quivered on the spot, unanswering and timid as his shoulders hunched uncomfortably. The only person that had ever been so outright blunt as to ask him about his panic attacks was Alaric. He’d never meant it with any ill harm, though the first few times his tone had been littered with confusion. Since then he’d always been firm and straight to the point, wanting to get a handle on the situation immediately, jumping straight into action in his own attempts at trying to put Cedric at ease. This girl, however, seemed positively baffled, and he couldn’t help but think that her own features currently mirrored that same look of uncertainty that Alaric had worn.

Unsure of himself, his eyes shuffling nervously back to the ground, he nodded meekly in confirmation of her question. It was no use lying now that he was standing so close to her, drawing ragged breath after ragged breath as his knees shuddered beneath him.

“Y-y-yes…” was all he could muster, his tone clipped and devoid of emotion. He wasn’t trying to be cold, nor was he trying to be rude, but even on his better days he so often struggled with what was considered acceptable, and the right ways with which he should address somebody. So for him to have even gotten any semblance of the human language out in his current state was nothing short of a miracle.

When the girl then proceeded to decline his offer to keep the paperweight – no matter just how dubious he’d been when saying so – his eyes lifted from the floor once more, and he stared back at her. She was smiling at him, and he found himself blushing under the weight of it, entirely unsure what to do with this new bout of kindness. Or rather, what he hoped was kindness. He was almost certain that if she were trying to mock him that she’d have made some sort of ghastly jibe by now, or would be shoving the novelty horse into her pocket without a second thought. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and so he just continued staring as he tried to regain his breath.

Her next question was lost as a high-pitched shriek pierced his eardrum, and he found himself flinching backwards at the sound of it. He felt horrified at, once again, having had such a bizarre reaction to the most basic human interaction, even if her forwardness and positively loud personality was continuing to take him by surprise with every passing minute. When it became all too clear to him that she had merely spotted Jeremiah, and that she wasn’t about to pounce on him in some sort of attempt to embarrass him further, he let his eyes wander slowly to the sight of two tiny ears poking their way out of his blazer pocket.

Now, if Cedric weren’t Cedric at all, and if he’d in fact been Ariadne, or Alaric, or possibly any other human being on the planet, he might even have laughed at her quip. After all, of course he knew that the rabbit was inside his pocket, how could he possibly not? But, of course, he was Cedric, and any trace of humour had been entirely lost on him.

“Wh– I… yes, of… of course,” he mumbled, still look away from the girl and staring at Jeremiah.

Her attention had been entirely torn away from the paperweight that still sat in her hands, and instead was focused on his tiny friend, and for that he couldn’t decide whether or not he was grateful. In all honesty, he was just relieved that the attention had been, somewhat, diverted away from him.

With shaky hands he reached into hos pocket and pulled out Jeremiah, who was now wriggling around in his palms, seemingly uncomfortable with the way that Cedric’s fingers were twitching anxiously around him. Taking steady, slow breathes and shutting his eyes for a few seconds, he focused on the feel of Jeremiah’s soft fur brushing against his skin.

“This is Jeremiah,” he told her eventually, his eyes snapping open and landing on the girl before him. Holding him close to his chest, he was certain that Jeremiah could even feel the loud thud of his heart against his ribcage, and he only hoped his knees wouldn’t buckle beneath him as he continued trying to regain some composure.

Bailey had probably just been ignorant when she had initially thought the man would deny he was having a panic attack. It didn’t seem like something that people readily admitted to, or maybe Bailey was just used to people jumping to denial and lying to her in the least malicious way possible. It was like when Mack claimed she didn’t like Adam more than she liked her actual boyfriend, or when Dakota claimed that she was fine whenever Bailey asked after her following the accident with Camden. But this guy was straight up telling her he was in trouble, and she didn’t know what the heck she could to do help.

“Oh!” she said. She knew she had breath mints in her pockets – always there because she didn’t know who she could end up kissing whenever she left the house, and it was always good to smell and taste minty fresh. But she doubted that the man still struggling to maintain a regular breathing rhythm would take one, probably because it wouldn’t help him.

“Should… should I be doing something?” she asked, gnawing on her lip with more fervour. It was probably selfish to think about herself at that moment (and people hadn’t hesitated to tell her on numerous occasions that that’s exactly what she was being) but Bailey was feeling significantly helpless and wished she had taken note of her surroundings to prevent this from happening.

Dakota knew all sorts of first aid because of how outdoorsy she was – and because it was probably like, a requirement when applying to be a camp counsellor – and she didn’t doubt that Adam had taught Mack some stuff about making sure someone was okay in these sorts of situations. On top of that, Lana was as gentle and calming as they came and could talk anyone down with that soothing tone of hers in a matter of minutes. Bailey possessed none of these qualities, and wished that her sisters were here instead of her. All she could treat was an insufferable hangover, and that was only because she’d long since discovered that the best cure was hair of the dog, to knock back more whiskey in an attempt to keep her throbbing headache at bay until she carbed up and slept the whole thing off.

However, when she asked about the rabbit whose nose was twitching as he peeped out from the man’s pocket, it seemed to distract him a little bit, so she kept a bright smile on her face.

“Well yeah, I’ve seen rabbits before. That definitely looks like one,” she giggled, watching as the man’s hand frantically made its way through the animal’s fur. She wondered if the rabbit was like one of those anxiety dogs people got that were trained to calm their owners down.

“Hey, Jeremiah,” she greeted the bunny cheerfully, crinkling her nose in an unconscious imitation of the rabbit’s own little twitch. She wanted to ask if she could pet him, but suddenly became preoccupied with holding back Lucky whose curiosity got the better of him as he stretched up onto his hind legs to get a closer look at the little ball of fur in the man’s arms.

“Ack, and this is Lucky,” she grunted, pulling her dog back. “Sorry about him. I promise he’s like, totes harmless. He’s just nosey as hell.”

She smiled apologetically and shook her hair out of her eyes with a jerk of her head. Wondering if it would put the man at ease to know her name, she figured that she’d let go of her reservations about an introduction with a stranger being old-fashioned and overly formal, and gestured to herself.

“Oh, and I’m Bailey. Who… still has your paperweight,” she realised, wiggling it in the air.

[byebailey-blog]

.wtfcedric:

As the sound of barking filled his ears, Cedric’s chest constricted tenfold as his entire body began to quiver. Dogs had never scared him, quite the contrary actually. As an all-around animal lover and proud vegetarian there was nothing that Cedric loved more than animals, their presence always a calming one. However, in this instance, the sound tore through him like a knife, his entire body turning rigid as his breathing came out in frantic, ragged pants. He was certain that the dog hadn’t intended on alarming him, just as he knew deep, deep down that the girl that he had collided with also hadn’t meant to cause such a ruckus, but his defences had gone up and he felt almost violated.

Had Alaric been there with him, he was certain that his brother would have plastered a charming smile on his face and said exactly the right thing to the girl before him, just as he’d have carefully turned his attention to the barking dog and would have settled him down with gracious ease, the very same ease that Cedric usually had around animals. It was usually their human acquaintances that always seemed to catch him off guard, though.

It only alarmed him all the further to realise that the girl was smiling. While she didn’t seem overly concerned about the fact that they had collided – which, in all honesty, was a relief, as he wasn’t sure how he would have survived the incident had she started shouting at him – she also didn’t seem to be particularly worried about the state that Cedric had gotten himself into. Stiff as a board, he nodded lightly towards her, averting his gaze every which way, adamant that he wouldn’t make eye contact.

Eventually, his eyes lingered on the mess that had gathered along the pavement, as the girl focused on settling her dog down. A shiver ran down his spine as every worst case scenario ran through his mind, the possibility of any of his new finds being damaged in their fall. He had little doubt that his journals would be alright, certain that their leather binding should protect the pages from any puddles or dirt that they may have fallen into, but some of the contents of his case were very old, fragile even. He was just readying himself to bend down to collect his belongings, when the girl beside him took matters into her own hands, and started plucking his things up off of the pavement.

“I… That– It’s mine,” was all Cedric could muster.

He stared at the girl for a moment too long, before bending down and forcefully shoving everything into his briefcase, without even so much as a second glance to ensure there was no damage. He allowed her to drop the rest of the items into the bag, though she still clung to the paperweight, and Cedric found himself shifting awkwardly, anxious to get away. He wanted to snatch it from her hands, to tell her that she shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to her, and to scurry away home. He wanted to curl up into the fetal position and succumb to the tears that pricking the edges of his eyes, and the sobs that were scratching desperately at the back of his throat.

He knew what Ariadne and Alaric would both have to say, of course, his siblings always being so gentle and careful with him, but firm enough to tell him when he was being impolite. They knew that it wasn’t his fault, and that he didn’t always perceive things the way that they did. They understood that his mind worked a little differently, and that so often his actions were just a result of his anxiety. He tried to focus on what they might have to say now, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath before finally acknowledging the girl.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, reaching a shaking hand up to comb his fingers through his messy mop of hair. He never could seem to get it under control, as was evident now. Pulling his hand away from his hair once more, he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, frantically trying to stop the incessant trembling of his bones. He had no such luck, of course, and he was sure that he must look like an utter maniac.,”

“It’s, uh… Well, you see, it’s…” His sentence was cut off once more as he gasped out yet another ragged breath. He begun frantically shaking his head, a lump forming in his throat as he tried not to make a fool of himself.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry….” They were the only words he could quite manage, repeating them over and over as his squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He could feel Jeremiah wiggling around in his pocket, and he was certain that his little friend must be poking his nose out by now, eager to see what the fuss was about, but he couldn’t even bring himself to focus on him.

His mind was working at a mile a minute, his briefcase abandoned lazily at his feet, his fingers twitching erratically as he attempted to regain composure. Or, rather, whatever semblance of composure he ever had before – which certainly wasn’t a lot.

He brought two shaky hands up to his face, burying his head in his palms, though his entire body quivered with the motion. His legs felt like jelly now, and he scolded himself internally. He felt so angry at himself. What kind of idiot had such an unreasonable response to something so minor? Any other person in this situation would have been well capable of going about their day, completely undeterred by such a non-incident.

“You c-can, um… k-keep it,” he told the girl, though his voice was muffled. He didn’t know if he even wanted to part with the paperweight, but rational thought had long since left him. He just wanted to be left alone, in peace so that he could aptly break down and succumb to the fierce anxiety coursing through his chest.

The man seemed determined not to make eye contact with Bailey, which she tried not to take too much offense at. She figured he was just embarrassed, as her recovery rate after incidents like this was speedier than most people’s – or so Mack had told her. Perhaps it was simply because Bailey had long since desensitized herself to humiliating situations, accepting them as a part of her life ever since her first year in high school when she’d tripped in the cafeteria and landed face first in her tray of spaghetti. She might have relayed that particular anecdote to the man to make him feel better, but he didn’t exactly look like he was eager to listen to a recollection of one of Bailey’s infamous d’oh moments. Plus, he seemed too busy trying to tell her off for possible theft when he gaped at the way she held the paperweight in her mittened hand.

“Uh, I’m not trying to steal it,” she retorted when the reprimand came. She narrowed her eyes at the man, a little hurt in the face of such quick judgment. Didn’t she look honest? Bailey always tried her best to be laidback and outgoing so people wouldn’t be afraid to approach her, but this guy didn’t seem to have gotten the memo that Bailey Nelson was a friendly girl.

She tried not to pout, especially when the action seemed to be directly wired to her tear ducts. If Bailey’s emotions were imbalanced even a little then she would tear up, and she was sure that her face was already tinged with red from the cold. She didn’t need it to go blotchy as well.

The frown was wiped away when the man, fluffy and flustered, began… well, she figured she could only described it as hyperventilating. He drew in short and jagged breaths, tripping over his words and, unused to this sort of behaviour, Bailey failed to realise that first and foremost, she should be reassuring him that she wasn’t mad. She had been all too ready to laugh the situation off but it was apparently a bigger deal to the man in front of her than it had been to her.

Lucky whined and strained against his leash, attempting to nose the man comfortingly as he choked back something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Bailey tightened her grip on her dog, knowing that he meant no harm but possessing enough initiative to keep him at bay in case that would make the man panic more. Her sisters might very well be proud of her for her sudden conscientiousness, as she’d proven on numerous occasions that she was useless in these sorts of situations – but at least she wasn’t making it worse.

“Are you… is this a panic attack?” she asked bluntly, nervously chewing her lip. She had heard of people suffering from them even after the most minor blip or mishap. It was something she’d never understood, and words like ‘neurotypical’ were thrown around instead of people helping her to understand. If they had tried to explain things to her a little better, Bailey might have been able to help the man who was now telling her to just keep the paperweight. She held it tightly in her hand, looking down at it warily before eventually shaking her head and holding it out to the stranger.

“No, it’s okay. It’s yours. I’m not just going to take something that belongs to you,” she said as kindly as she could manage. She knew she had a habit of lacking tact at the best of times, even if her intentions were well-placed. She just hoped that she sounded friendly to the guy.

“Do you want me to go get you water or somet- oh my gosh!” she squeaked suddenly when a fuzzy, floppy eared head poked out of the man’s pocket. “Is that a bunny?”

She grinned wide, bending down to inspect the animal before looking back up at its presumable owner and cheekily asking, “Do you know you have a rabbit in your pocket?”