say it to my face. @challiwcll - Tumblr Blog

❛ REINA RHODES.

Reina nods, knowing that of all people she could go to, Cleo is the best woman for the job. She’s almost proud of the other woman’s ability to get information about anyone she needs to, it’s a useful talent and quite honestly, it’s one of the big reasons Reina keeps her around. Call it a test, but the loyalty Cleo continuously shows her is unparalleled and it may be what’s helping her case where Miles is concerned. There are certainly worse women he could’ve chosen. Her ears perk when she hears the words scandalous and reputation ruining, and her lips quirk up just slightly despite the eye roll she gives. “Don’t tell me it’s another cheating scandal. At this point, I’m not sure anyone would give a shit considering the way people sleep around on this fucking island.” Regardless, any information on Karen and her husband is even better than dirt on just Karen herself, she won’t be able to dig herself out of it if there are two of them involved, and if it’s reputation ruining Reina will happily bury them both in the ground. She gestures for the blonde to sit, holding a grabby hand out for whatever it is Cleo has that’ll cinch the presidency for her. “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense here.”

The island is her stomping ground ─ has been and certainly will always be. It’s one of the numerous things Cleo is proud of and is honored to assist Reina in any given matters. It hasn’t been the first time given the honey blonde gave the information about her mother to the other with ease. Of course, the underlying of it all was to earn the older woman’s acceptance and respect especially given Cleo’s recent relationship with Miles. Words were shared, not hostile but etched cavernously into her conscience, knowing any moment the other could be a ghost in her life. It startled her. Rarely did she let that side of worries consume her, but supposedly, for the first time in her life, the idea of losing someone who believed in her efforts could be gone forever within the snap of her fingers. This was something she did not want to endure.. ever. Cerulean hues rolled into the back of her head, a vaulted brow shoot towards Reina. “No, we’ll just leave the cheating scandals to Evelyn,” she informed with severe tone and expression. Nothing unusual for her to gash her mother’s reputation with ease. It was like the older Halliwell women made it easy. Now, her slender digits were gripping onto the folder before handing it off to Reina, a wicked grin fluttered upon her mouth corners as she comfortably rested into the chair. “We got a case of embezzlement on our hands,” she did not hesitate to inform. Of course, the details in the folder gave an extensive timeline of the spending of Karen and her husband for the past five years which was the start of their grimed exploits. All of the hours she spent on researching was a success. “Looks like little Karen may lose her husband for the next twenty years.” And she was damn proud of it.

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; reina rhodes. )#reinarhcdes

lourdeshoward

LOURDES HOWARD + finsta

ft. @challiwcll & @milesawayellis

#( ─ featuring ; miles ellis. )#( ─ it started with the pit stains ; miles ellis. )#here's lourdes capturing the couple in the finest moments ❤️

❛ AVA HALLIWELL.

How Ava found herself entangled to the lifestyles that people led on this island, she had no idea. It seemed like a distant memory — a stranger that she could hardly recognise nowadays. Living a life of luxuries and a well-known surname attached to her name seemed like the perfect life to live on the surface, but underneath it all, it was hiding all the imperfections — the sacrifice people made for the lives to showcase their wealth to everyone else of their classes. The brunette had detached herself from said lifestyle since the mere age of sixteen; although the decision was impulsive no less, it was the best decision ever made to keep her mind sane. From the moment her father became nothing but a stranger to her anymore, she had given up the fight to find the man she adored as a child again. Perhaps it was even her fault to allow him to go on too far on the road from rags to riches, but she had to take a moment for herself and be selfish for once. To prioritise her life and pursue her dream to leave Catalina and venture out into the big fashion scene in New York. Who would’ve thought that would be the worst decision ever made in her life — well, at least she had met a monster that would eventually haunt her mind even now. Her homecoming wasn’t a happy affair, but then it also allowed her to be close to those that she held dearly to her heart again. Her sister being one of those people; having shared her predicament with her now ex-husband was a huge step to take in her mind.

Ava was thankful for the fact that Cleo happened to be more involved with their mother’s latest project instead, although she never had any doubts in that. Her sister’s personality just seemed suited for the cameras, if not being able to handle the antics of these housewives on the show. She had seen snippets of reality TV shows like these in the past to know that the housewives of Catalina wouldn’t fail to live up to those expectations. Perhaps if Nathan never crossed paths with her, she would’ve been more extroverted than she was now. Drama just never boded well with the brunette ever since she was young, and her ex-husband had cause enough chaos into her life for her to be seeking out for more. But Cleo had the strength to do so, and she often admired her for that. Even though the two sisters handled Evelyn’s antics rather differently. Cleo often confronted the woman with full force, yet Ava preferred to find bliss in ignorance, or avoidance for that matter. It was why she hadn’t visited her sister in a while, although partially she was preoccupied with her growing relationship with Rory lately. Her features deadpanned for a moment at the blonde’s word, before a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You wouldn’t dare, you can’t put me on the same level as Evelyn.” She started. “But…I don’t think Evelyn would ever be out of our lives. Unless…did something happen between you two?” She couldn’t help but ask, her sister’s word raising some concern nevertheless. As she helped her sister unpacked the goods she had brought along with her, a scoff easily fell from her lips at her statement. “That’ll just make boring TV,” She shot a grin at her sister, before her features softened. “I’m sure it’ll be great, don’t forget me when you’re famous.” She retorted with a teasing tone, although guilt stirred at the pit of her stomach when Cleo stated how long it had been since they had last seen each other. Her sister’s tone merely made her feel more nervous about this visit, before a sigh fell from her lips. “I’m sorry I’ve been MIA, with the cameras and everything—” She paused, biting her lip for a moment. “You know how I am, I just…tend to shut myself off from everything sometimes. I’m sorry.” Unconvinced by her own words, she shook her head and met her sister’s gaze, attempting to find the courage for the purpose of the visit in the first place. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you. No one knows and I want you to be the first person to know, but I also didn’t want you to find out from someone else…in case that happens. Can you…promise to hear me out and not be angry about it?”

Polar opposites, they were. From who their mothers were to the sister’s personality, many would’ve assumed the pairing would strike at the throat of the other but it was the opposite. In the quietude and their mutual disdain for Evelyn, even though Cleo was far more vocal about it than Ava, they understood each other on a level unlike anything before as their bond formed when Cleo just turned seven years old to learn about a long-lost sister in her life. It didn’t take her long to grow accustomed to the other’s preference whilst allowing her cut-throat of a gashing personality into the universe knowing Evelyn attempted to tame her first blood born on a multitude of occasions. It was often stated that opposites attracted. In the sense, both of the sisters were uniformed and wired together from the mid-age frame of their child youth. Since then, no one had been able to break the uniformity and the constant connection between both of them, something within her believes it would never happen. It wasn’t like she was an optimist nor a pessimist. When she had a steady sea of thoughts, which was always so a misfortune whoever was on the opposing side, they received it whether they liked it or not. In this world, Cleo Halliwell was always right. It was tough shit for anyone who dared to fight against her. Cerulean optics roll into the back of her head, not daring to withhold a scuff gashing off the tip of her prong at her sister’s questioning about mother-daughter status. “Oh yes, I did everything possible to snip her out. I fucked up her brand new car ─ the poor exterior scratched like a cat destroys a scratching post and I can’t say the interior was in any better condition as well. My big oops because my hand must’ve slipped,” she soothed with collected tone and not a flinch of remorse inching through. Not even bothering to allow her hues to focus upon Ava, the petite woman maneuvered around the kitchen to clean up a few of the glasses that were vexing her by putting them in the dishless washer whilst the other finished off the food unpacking. This is what happened when she was willing to extend the host attributes to make the staff right at ease. Of course, their days were tedious but still, a little courtesy went a long way.

“I can only try my hardest, beautiful Ava,” she informed with a cheeky beam, allowing a singular hand to sleek back her honey tresses behind her shoulders. For a fleeting moment, the petite woman struck a model pose and sucked her cheeks in, only to eventually be interrupted by her own chuckle. From a young age, Cleo was a confident sucker. Even when she got cheated on, not once but twice in a short span of time, there was a moment when she fell into a slump but not long enough to not get herself out of the heartache that occupied her. It had been a dream of world domination. Putting all of her energy into something that was meaningful to Cleo rather than staying at her tedious nine to five where she earned little-to-no-respect considering she was the only female in the companies higher up. It was Reina who influenced the woman to put her energy elsewhere. This was how the birth of her podcast came around. More recently, a hopeful business venture to create a wine-line, but this was being hushed considering it was still in the talks. It was still in the process of filming but the world of reality television was meant for her, her inflated ego, and unapologetic nature. As Ava became apologetic for her lack of whereabouts, the response was wilted and unpleased about her sister’s tendency to drop the phase off the earth whilst wanting to waltz back in and assume everything is fine. The one thing Cleo learned from the first time Ava did this was the abusive nature of Nathan which sent her flying off her invisible rocker, ready to take out the man who dared to put his hands on her sister in the first place. She never liked him. Hell, she made her thoughts vocal with ease even if it was bound to perturb Ava, it was how little she approved of her sister’s marriage. Shooting an unsatisfied glaze as it coursed upon her cerulean hues, brims of her optics tempered minimally. “Yeah, trust me, I’m used to these cycles even if I don’t think the coping mechanisms are the healthiest.” Gashing tone informed with lack of remorse, arms crossing over her petite chest, everything about her behavior was deadly. The next set of words instantly caused her brows to furrow in concern, overlay in a flatline expression assuming the worst especially considering the last news she had received from Ava happened to be about what was going on with Nathan. A suppressed, cavernous sigh fell through. “I can promise to hear you out. But, I can’t promise you to not be angry,” she responded with an issue.

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; ava halliwell. )#avhalliwell #abuse mention tw

❛ LOURDES HOWARD.

When Megan Fox had said hell is a teenage girl, Lourdes had felt those lines in full force. She had always seen herself as Jennifer from that movie, and she definitely understood what that had meant. Maybe Lourdes would have blossomed into a more sex crazy monster, or maybe she would have been a chaste little lady who was engaged to her high school sweetheart by now. But she knows that Cleo has had some influence on her life, maybe in the way she lives her life without a care, or how she knows to prioritize who she cares about. She didn’t become like Cleo though; hitting her twenties and still pretending like she had all of eternity to grow up, Lourdes was living her own version of Peter Pan, and maybe that’s where Cleo Halliwell’s School of Teenage Guidance stopped. At eighteen and a bag sending you off to college. But in the blonde woman’s presence, Lourdes doesn’t feel judged. She feels at home, like she’s talking to another friend about her sexual escapades with one of the waitresses at The Lobster Trap, or about the dude she hooked up with behind the Gentlemen’s club; it’s very matter of factly to Lourdes. She likes sex, and she likes sharing her experiences with other people. The cereulean eyed woman’s response disappointed the brunette immensely, as she pouted and furrowed her eyebrows. “Seriously Cleo, who the fuck are you and what have you done to my Cleo? You better not be nunning it up for some dude, because he’s definitely not worth your time. I hope he’s not another Patrick….or are you hooking up with Patrick again? Cleo!” Despite their age difference, Lourdes understands a thing or two about relationships and how much work they take. She did try monogamy in college, and got her heart broken in the process. But Patrick…Patrick is a specimen, and Lourdes has never had an urge to choke someone like she does with that man and his smug grin and pompous attitude. He was never good enough for her friend, and the very thought of Cleo going back to him makes Lourdes angry and sad all at once. She spins around in the Versace she’s wearing, an expression of seriousness being offset by the gaudiness of the yellow. “Babes, swear to me that you’re being responsible with your pussy and your heart. There is no shame in giving your pussy what she wants, but please, don’t get your heart involved okay? I will let you have your mystery suitor, so long as he’s taking care of your emotions, okay?” She let the gravity of this moment sink in, before dispelling it with an air of nonchalance. “Okay, you fucking know I would never look like your fucking mother, right? First of all, I’ve got great tits and probably great genetics because these babies haven’t started sagging yet. And if I was getting fillers, I’d make sure I didn’t over do it. I’m not trying to erase my age, just trying to offset the fucking lines that aging leaves.”

To be a woman, especially in this time of growth and realization of self-worth, the Halliwell started to see more people grow out of their apologetic phase to be unapologetic and tackle the world one step at a time without any worries. While she never fit comfortably in the mold of society's expectations, it’s made her grateful that people no-longer saw her gashing and cut-throat of responses as destructive or a threat but more so understanding it was her personality and nothing would change it otherwise. It was something Cleo had attempted to instill into her two younger sisters which both of them fell unfortunate to the grasp of Evelyn Halliwell’s suffocating presence, the sister guidance was found in Lourdes. While she was aware Jolie was in the picture, there were certain lines of conversations that others do not speak with their physical bloodline and the self-insert of another always came as saving grace. It bonded them together. It made both of the growing females who they are today and everything within her bellows they’d further go into fearless women with their strong will of a personality. Any time Lourdes decided to come around, the honey tressed female was glad to make her presence feel welcomed right at home. The unfortunate moment when Patrick was brought into the scenario instantly sent a shiver down her spine, holding a hand up toward’s Lourdes direction before her cerulean hues tempered minimally, “Over my fucking body would I ever let the piece of shit step anywhere near my presence. He’s dead to me.” A gashing, menacing tone submerged itself into the former tranquil energy. None of this was Lourdes's fault but more her concern emerging itself which caused her to sweep any worries underneath the rug. Everyone and their mother knew the heartache Patrick caused on Cleo was something no one deserved in the first place. Clearing her throat, all in the efforts to not come off as brash for another moment longer. “It’s someone on the island. I’m pretty sure you see him often in the past five years because of where you work.” It was a dead giveaway. If Lourdes could paint between the lines then that would be a success. The non-verbal admittance of her once-again relationship with Miles was something Cleo was safeguarding before everyone got eager and allowed their emotions to pop off like fireworks on the fourth of July. The age upon her did not mean she was getting any younger. Time was critical at this point in her life. Just as much as Cleo desired to settle down, the first thing she needed to do was find the love of her life ─ although, in the recent weeks, it was closer to her than she expected she had to make sure. “I’m not seeing Patrick,” she deadpanned in disdain whilst shaking her locks. All of the years of rebuilding herself up to run back to someone who hurt her would be stupidity. After all, he was married and quite sure expecting his second child on the way. “He hurt me once. I’m not an idiot to go back to someone who treated me like shit nor would I ever. That’s not who I am.” Just by the sight of the expression of the other, the older women could realize there was a fringe of perturbation. Hence why she affirmed it was closer to home, someone known in the town. Now, admiring the other in the breathtaking Versace piece, a custom made for Cleo from Donatella, herself, as a birthday present last summer. The slight of a smile began to inch upon her mouth corners, glad she encouraged the other to take the risk of the design. It was ballsy and a pattern unlike anything before but it suited the brunette curves. “Giving me my own advice in return in this economy?” A snicker of amusement now wondering why the tables had turned. Propping up on her own arm, a vaulted brow shot toward the pseudo-sister figure in efforts to make a rapid sly comment. “And to think, I thought you never listened to me, I am in awe.” Spoken through a comical range amongst her song-bird octave, regardless of the moment, Cleo spoke on whatever occupied her mind currently. As the shift of conversation went to facial surgery, something that she was not opposed to but saw no need for it unless it was getting extensive upon her overlay, the work upon her mother was a jocular sight rather than something soothing and inspiring. It was all done wrong. Evelyn looked like a fucking duck. So, all she could do was roll her cerulean hues at Lourdes and her speech of words. “Literally don’t make me hold these words over your head because I have no issue with doing so. I’ll just have to trust you which is the highest respect of honor,” she informed through a huff because she cared and Lourdes knew that.

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; lourdes howard. )#lourdeshoward #yes i write too much :/

❛ REINA RHODES.

CLOSED / @challiwcll LOCATION: rhodes estate TIME: evening

Reina’s quest for power has been a constant part of her life for two decades; her need for control and authority has been unrelenting since she got a taste of it — but after being ripped away from her old life and the sovereignty that came along with it, the opportunity for something similar has been scarce. The PTA presidency is something she’s been eyeing up since her move to the island, and with a little over six years of experience in the organization under her belt and a whole lot of connections, it seemed like an easy enough way for her to find herself in that position of power that she’s been craving. That is, until her PTA arch-enemy Karen decided to stick her ugly little pig nose in Reina’s business and run against her. What the poor woman probably didn’t realize is that not only does Reina do whatever it takes to get what she wants, she plays dirty to get it. Which is where Cleo comes in, with her knack for digging up dirt and her incessant need to prove herself to Reina. Everyone has skeletons in their closet and if there’s anyone who can find some shit on this woman that’ll send her into the ground and open the presidency up for Reina to grab, it’s Cleo. She’s sitting on the balcony with a glass of wine, waiting for Cleo to let herself in as she always does when the sound of the sliding glass door opening lets Reina know she’s arrived. “Seems like every time we meet you have something for me,” she smirks, looking back at Cleo as she comes to sit down. “You do have something, don’t you? I’m assuming you’re not here to braid my hair and gab about your love life.” Which just so happens to be something Reina is absolutely not interested in, considering who Cleo’s currently dating.

Cleo Halliwell is a woman that takes her tasks and researching entail with immense pride and joy. While other women found the consolation in spreading false gossip about another, caring minimally on the precautions, it was the honey-haired blonde who took measures and gossip to an extent to find out the truth or not. Sometimes, she wonders why she picked the education path that she did ─ a professional forester who climbed the ranks and increased the companies portfolio over her the ten years she was apart of the company ─ when she could’ve become a Federal Agent; FBI, to be precise. Having a knack for being surrounded around people, being center of attention, and the efforts of growing her brand into something meaningful, all thanks to the reality television show on the island, she was able to dip her toes into ventures that meant something to her. Even though she did not attend Quantino to gather these research skills, the tricks she had underneath her sleeve became useful in the last couple of months with Reina. First, it started off with gathering information about her mother to give to Reina for ammo. Now secondly, it was finding the skeletons of a fellow contender of the PTA presidency, Karen, to knock her out of the race making the woman she looked up to the instant winner. Accustomed to making her way through the Rhodes residency, more recently with seeing Miles and leaving his bedroom whenever their rendezvous turned to another night stay, the terms of tonight were different because she came to deliver and deliver she did. Exiting the slide balcony doors, one’s where Reina and herself often enjoyed themselves in a cloud of smoke, a wicked smirk greets the other but cerulean hues rolling only half a second later. Why would she come here empty-handed if she didn’t have anything? If she didn’t, the woman would’ve rescheduled their initial meeting. Seated across from the other woman, legs crossed at the ankles, a vaulted brow rose towards her. “Of course I do. I think you’ll like all that I found out about sweet little Karen and her husband. Scandalous and reputation ruining,” she noted before handing off the folder full of documents. “And no ─” A brief pause, adjusting her posture feeling as if she was walking on ice-thin and the dynamic she had with Reina was the opposite of what she wanted. “I’ll save that topic for someone else.”

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; reina rhodes. )#reinarhcdes

❛ ELIZABETH KENNEDY.

As soon as Liza could walk, she’d glued herself to the second-eldest Halliwell sister, insistent on following the older girl around — it was a side effect of having two older brothers and a maternal figure as uninterested in her as one would be in a banana peel. Ever since she could remember, the Halliwell family had welcomed her with open arms, even if Evelyn Halliwell did terrify her just a smidge.

Since she’d graduated from SDSU, Liza had felt unbelievably lost. Her whole identity had been wrapped around being the Queen Bee, wherever she went, even if it meant being nasty and catty. That was her brand: being a bitch, and she liked it that way. Despite it all, underneath the layers of malice was a softer girl, trapped and terrified, beaten raw from a family that punished vulnerability and emotion.

Of course, Cleo’s home was Liza’s haven. She found herself slipping in whenever she needed a casual chat, because she could rely on the other blonde for some well-needed truths, as harsh as they were. There was no need to put her walls down with Cleo because… well, because, with Cleo, Liza already had her walls down. The woman had known Liza since she was a child, and she no doubt would know her until the end of time.

Giving the other a knowing smile, Liza shrugged as she placed herself on the couch, kicking off her chocolate Uggs as she pulled her knees close to her chest. “Maybe,” she insinuated, although tonight, she wasn’t in the mood to hog the camera’s attention. “I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s so boring here,” she groaned. There was really more going on, but Liza wasn’t ready to spill yet. “Vodka, if you have it.” She bit her lip, wondering if Cleo was going to be as uptight as her parents were in preventing her from getting to the liquor cabinet. “Or — you know, whatever you have. Water, juice.” She missed drinking, she really did, but her parents seemed to have cut her off at every single alcohol-serving establishment on the island. The perks of having wealthy and well-known parents, she supposed.

The roll of her cerulean hues into the back of her conscience was followed by a snicker, complacent in the confines of her house even with the unexpected visitor. Nothing stuns Cleo anymore especially when Liza tried to intercept her way into the filming grounds of her house for a potential close up, typically a shot of the body resting in the background, as if the attempted blood bath amongst mother and daughter progressed forward. Yet, Evelyn was too chicken to show face because the honey-tressed female was far from hesitant and would further demolish the nose. Perhaps, the other housewives on their trip to St. Barts gave her a further piece of her mind without having Cleo to get involved ─ which she wasn’t opposed to showing face because she was meant for reality television even as a princess. Briefly craning her neck toward Liza before domineering her kitchen, “I’m not fucking giving you vodka.” A deadpanned tone of voice informed the youngest Kennedy, tempered hues minimally squinting at her. All of the years Cleo has known Liza, she safeguarded the other from the cruel world and her consequences but before she could intercept again, it seemed like Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy jumped the gun on limiting her alcohol consumption. Typically not being one in terms of following the rules, this time it was for someone’s benefit and she couldn’t oblige. Maneuvering to her recently filled refrigerator, she pulled out a bottle of Evian and a juice box, which she kept for whenever Iris decided to spend the evening, would simply just have to work for Liza. “I was the first person to receive an e-mail from your parents,” she noted instantaneously.

Occupying a spot on the opposite side of the l-sectional, she passed off the juice box before raising a vaulted brow, “Iris Rhodes is going to kill me for giving you this but it will just do for now.” And the last thing she needed to deal with was a hissy-fit over a juice box but the youngest Rhodes learned her theatrics from the best ─ Cleo. Huffing out a cavernous sigh, digits now bridge the slender section of her nose and melting happily into the plush pillows, today was an overall hectic. It may have looked otherwise from Liza’s point of view at how glacial Cleo was but it wasn’t because of the other. No, today was just a living hell hole. Production was literal shit. Apparently, when they went on the trip to St. Barts, all sense of direction was lost as well and everyone was scrambling. “Give me a minute,” she grumbled as hues remained in the fastened state. It did not take much longer for Cleo to collect her composure and adjust her posture from a prior sulked stage to ready to assist Liza with any and all of her needs for coming over today. “Alright,” words gashing through the air, the twinkle in her hues was ready to be informed with anything and everything. It wasn’t anything unusual for her to gently guide the other to a path that made sense. “You’re twenty-four years old and you’re bored? Cut me the humor, Liza. That’s just stupid.” Shooting her a lifeless expression, plump petals pursed as brows etched closer together, far from amused. Then again, Kennedy's parents were peculiar and straight-up dumb fucks, it was a fact that everyone and their mother knew. Seeing the other as a sister of her own, it was nothing unusual in terms of tough love being brought into the conversation now. It was something she did with Ava, and whenever she could be civilized with Abby ─ which was a rarity but besides the point. How she saw them was how she treated them. Long before she entered into her house tonight, the other blonde was aware of what may come her way... brutal honesty and nothing less than. It was how she served her cake. “I’ve told you once and I’m going to tell you again, you can listen to your parents, take their concerns into your conscience but you need to call your shots. You need to get yourself out there,” she informed sternly from her point of view. The one thing Cleo saw within Liza as she aged happened to be her ability to make the room centered around herself. While it was an advantage, it did not mean it would last for the rest of one’s life. Things were bound to change. People were eventually going to get tired of the same act. People grew and those who didn’t always fell behind. This was something she was noticing with the other now. Going through the motions of life and not putting herself in the best scenarios was a bummer in the hues of the second eldest Halliwell. “How many months has it been since you’ve been home, Liza?” A brief pause. “Five, six... maybe seven months? Is there anything that you could potentially see yourself doing? Or do you need some guidance? Because I can give you an option, I got stuff coming up if you’re interested in being an assistant,” she noted with a proposal. Slowly but surely, deals and experiences unlike anything before were sliding right across her desk. If it meant that she did not have to hear about the others complain about what to do with her time, an offer was being extended to the other.

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; elizabeth kennedy. )#lizardkennedy

❛ MILES ELLIS.

Miles was getting used to the dimly lit front porch, just like he was getting used to the pain ricocheting through every part of his body, almost like an undecipherable hum of heat and a jolt if he moved too much. But the door opened, and it was like facing heavenward in the way the warm glow invited him. Cleo’s silhouette didn’t go unnoticed, but she had wrapped her arms around him, so warm and inviting, smelling like cleaning wipes and generally like she always did. As if led by instinct, Miles’s hands wrapped around her waist, ignoring every protest his aching limbs made. Her presence was like a balm, and the moment could have lasted forever, him with his eyes closed, holding onto her like she was a lifeline, or a healer. And he would never need a doctor again. He almost missed her words, but words were unnecessary here. If the blonde asked, he’d pull that bad boys card again, and he wonders if that’s just a front he plays for her. He wants to be honest about himself, how he likes to read on the weekends with his book club friends, and how much he loves his D&D character, Eighty the WarForger. But as she began to slip away from his grasp, Miles had to bring himself back to reality. This wasn’t the time or place, and his goddamn broken body seemed to agree with that.

He tried to be graceful in his entrance into Cleo’s clean abode, but with the skinned knee it wasn’t the easiest. Suddenly aware of the grime that clung to his jacket, the brick dust all over his pants. How he was dirty, in a space bigger and cleaner than he’s ever been in. Fuck. He should have just gone to a bar instead. Surely, he’d find a seedy little thing that wouldn’t even bat an eye as he used up their toilet paper to nurse his bruises. But the way his girlfriend (girlfriend!) looked at him, with pure adoration, he could almost forget the state of himself for a moment. She was relaxed, and she looked as clean as her home. As homely as the couch he could spot behind her, and how badly he just wanted to sink into the plushness of it and forget the world for a bit. In her oversized sweatshirt, looking straight out of every girl next door fantasy magazines Miles used to steal from the newspaper stands a long time ago. And she was talking, telling him she missed him. And for some reason, it didn’t make Miles uncomfortable. Intimacy had always been Miles’s Achilles heel, as a self proclaimed lone wolf. He liked staying away, unable to build connections unless they were familial, because in his life, losing was more than just a distant thought. It was a horror he had endured and was consumed by. So affection had been something he actively avoided, because it made his belly tighten and his legs ready to make a run for it. But right then, he was content. Right now, Cleo was saying everything Miles wanted to hear and he just wants to close the distance between them and kiss her wanton and tell her he missed her too. Miles wants to tell her everything about his day, about the joke one of the bussers told him, how the bar back almost got fired. About his fight with Jason. He wanted to reply, to react some way to her proclamations, about how he didn’t give a shit if she wanted the world to revolve around her, because if Miles could, he would have made that happen right now.

But she had already crossed the distance, gentle fingers and ocean blue eyes studying the bruises on his face. Would she think of him as a rascal and realise this isn’t the man for her? Would she laugh at him if he told her about losing to his adoptive father in a fist fight? Suddenly, he wished he wasn’t here. Cleo was going to hate him, and he couldn’t stand that from the girl he’s in love with. But. But. He really does want to talk to Cleo. She’s the only one he can talk to right now, where he will get no judgement. Where no one will chastise him for being an idiot. He winced when her fingers touched a sore spot on his cheek, now spotted with dried blood. “Uhh…” He wasn’t sure what to say to her right then. “…You sure I can’t just let you ride me? Cos your pussy is the only reason why I’m here…” It hurt to smirk, and a dry chuckle died pretty quickly as it began. “I…you might as well hear it from me, before Ma, because she’s gonna call me a fucking pendajo and probably suspend me for causing a ruckus at work…” He sighed, “I got into a fight with Jason. He was just…right there, and I just…I don’t know what I was thinking…”

To say all of Cleo’s anxious worries fluttered away would be a lie. Of course, when she fell into his brawny embrace and has her heart leaped at the satisfaction of her home being nearby, the change was swift once adoring him in the fluorescent light of her living room to reveal his current state. Bruised, mangled, in an unusual state to the blonde’s recollection of the time with her boyfriend from the past few weeks, on top of the years they have spent together, and it perturbs her in wondering which sick and twisted soul could’ve done this to him. With all of the love engulfing her and her heart, she’ll never find it within her to think of him in any other light than the lenient manner both of them had spent with one another. All she wanted to do was murder whoever did this. Give them a state of their own medicine for wounding the man that was the rightful owner of her heart. And this was a constant thought running through her conscience whilst carefully examining his wounds. Though, the state of her tender digits hitting a sore spot as cerulean hues noticed the sight of Miles wincing underneath her touch instantly tugged on her heartstrings. “I’m sorry. baby, I’m sorry.” Her tone was airily interlaced amongst an apologetic dribble for observing what immensely concerned her now. “I just want to check. I need to check. And.. I’m going to talk care of you,” she informed him in a stringent tone. Willing to put up a fight if he insisted on going elsewhere to nourish his wounds but every inch of her body knew this wouldn’t be the case. The vulnerability was lingering in the air. They missed and needed each other at every moment of the day ─ this moment was needed for their well-being due to their prior hours apart. Eventually, her moving digits found a place of solace and quietude upon the side of his neck underneath his beating pulse as it felt her impact on his beating organ whilst making sure he kept his vision focused upon her. The loving, yet still adoring overlay upon her overlay was a visual towards him, as well as the love laced brawny glossed upon her hues proved to him that she was not upset. Concerned, she was. But upset? Never with him. Luckily, she was proud he found his way toward her place and knowing it was a safe space because she’ll behind over backward for him. This was her man. Her boyfriend. He was in safe hands.

As her eyesight remained fixated upon the only man in the entire world, feeling as if her heart was ready to leap into the palm of his hands, the woman was comforted to see him on the opposite side of the door. In all of the recent times they have encountered, it had always been Cleo going to Miles. It did not bother her the slightest. It was just for once ─ these two had privacy without any worries of any wandering adults or kids interrupting them. Just them in an unfamiliar state of ache but them better together than apart. His words about sex does not fly over her head. Being engulfed in a chuckle, cerulean hues rolling into the back of her head, knowing if he wasn’t bruised then she would’ve effortlessly taken up on his offer. To let him go down on her. For Cleo to go down on him. The whole cycle of pleasure they have established again with each other. “As much as I want to go to O-town, so often because of you, there are far more pressing matters at this moment. But....you’ll just have to wait.” Plump petals nearing his own, allowing a ponderous heat from her behalf to tease him as those words sultry laced through. Just as the point was made, a brief kiss was established to give him something to get by until he was able to return to being submissive underneath Cleo’s reign. He had to survive. Even if he whined, which happened often, but she lavished in that sight. Today had no purpose to allow any of that to happen. The blonde was resolute upon finding out the truth ─ further inching into the bridge of confiding into one another to affirm their relationship was heading to an endgame rather than being a momentarily phase. Hues focused upon his lips, carefully reading and allowing his words to consume her, the moment when she received an affirmation on who did it, everything flickered to destruction in comparison to her tender, love laced of a tone. Jason Rhodes did this ─ who was a misfortune to many. “I’m going to fucking kill him,” she snapped in a vexed tone, consumed by a homicidal overlay occupied her features as it presented itself to Miles unlike any moment before.

Miles was her whole world. The light of her rare, yet pitch-black day in the future, it was only him visible at the end of the tunnel as it soothed her. The grand love story that she had been patiently waiting for since she understood the context of love was presented once and for all. The male near her gave her the ability to believe in love once again after getting her heart demolition by two men who constantly belittled and attempted to changed her hurricane nature. Not once did he. He promised her all of those weeks prior. It’s why she instantly became defensive over his well being. Digits pulling from the warmth of his neck, instantly they found the pressed ball of his palm as they slithered way to his own before turning on her heel and leading him to her bedroom. Little did he know, even if the moment wasn’t full of heat, he was the first male in all of the years since Cleo purchased this home in Avalon, roughly about four years ago, to be granted permission to the sanctuary of her bedroom. Waltzing through the double doors of the master bedroom, it took less than a nano-second to slowly and gently to guide him onto the other side of her bed. It was plush and dressed in the finest Egyptian cotton sheets earnestly awaiting the mold of Miles’ body. The side that was typically unoccupied unless Garfield decided to cuddle up with her. Otherwise, it was glacial and begging for an occupant. The plush thumb gently caressed his keen jawline, looming over him. “Miles.....” she spoke after a long time and domineering this situation. Now was time to kill the ice. “I’m not mad. I’m just....” Breathing as the weight of her world rested upon her fragile shoulders. “I care about you so much and knowing that you got into that fight with that fucker... I want to rip him a new one. I want to make his life a living hell for doing this to you,” she paused knowing her hatred for him went deeper than Miles but that was a line crossed, “But, what happened? Why did it happen?”

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; miles ellis. )#milesawayellis

❛ AVA HALLIWELL.

special delivery for → @challiwcll location: cleo’s house time: 20th march, 7pm

The filming of the Real Housewives of Catalina Island had cause nothing but total chaos in Ava’s life. For someone who valued so much of her privacy, this was throwing her completely out of her comfort zone. Saying that, the brunette had no choice in the matter. She had found out that Evelyn was going to be on the show the hard way when she rocked up one day to the country club, all to find nothing but cameras shoved in her face without any room to breathe. Being in front of the cameras in general seemed like a living nightmare to her; considering she spent the majority of the past few years living in the shadow and hiding away from her ex-husband, airing out her dirty laundries just seemed like a terrible idea. But she knew her family members approached this matter differently, and her younger sister seemed to be in more comfortable to be in front of the cameras. With all media pressure that came along with the show, she was certain that Cleo was going to handle it all far better than she ever could, a quality that she often admired in her sister.

It was one of the many reasons why Ava wanted to pay her sister a visit tonight; one mainly due to the fact they were long due for a catch up, and two, she was here to deliver a certain piece of news before the blonde caught wind of it from someone else. It was better for it to be coming from herself than anyone else, although dread and nerves were still stirring in the pit of her stomach as she arrived at the Cleo’s home, before tentatively stepping into her home as members of what seemed like the camera crews were filing out of the house. She had shown up without giving her sister any notice tonight, although she hoped the blonde wouldn’t mind considering the news she had in mind have been gnawing at her for the past few weeks, or months, for that matter. “There you are,” A smile crossed her features as she wandered into the familiar kitchen, placing at bag of takeouts before them. “I came bearing gifts,” She gestured at the bag, before continuing. “Looks like I’ve just caught you at the right time, shame that I just missed the camera crew.” She uttered with a roll of her eyes. “Have you been filming all day? I know I showed up out of the blue, but I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve last seen you.”

Being engulfed in the world of The Real Housewives of Catalina Island was a breeze. A personality larger than the entire island, the dyed blonde knew when to lay her chops and when her assistance was needed amongst the production team and other housewives to send Evelyn on the spiral of the reality of all of her consequences. In times before, the ‘matriarch’ of the Halliwell family slithered hands clean on her affairs. Still time around, after putting on her best face and indulging in finding a private investigator suitable for her tasks, she set one upon her mother. Less than a couple of days later, evidence started to flood into her lap. It was since then when she provided the information toward Reina for her disposable. Doing the dirty work never bothered her. Once she was obstinate upon something, she’ll research inside and out for the truth because the young women had a reputation of being actual rather than someone spreading false lies without evidence. Nonetheless, the open book that she was, any point when she needed to address things and own up to the accountability, would be handle in such a typical Cleo manner ─ she did what she did and no regrets behind it at all. Certain individuals need to be held accountable for the destruction they left behind. Whilst she knew she came from an affair, the blind turn of her sister’s cheeks did not astound her at all. One way or another, each one of the Halliwell girls were illegitimate. It was Evelyn who destructed their future and mentally damaged the younger two. There was a life without their mother in the picture. The only sibling who could understand where Cleo was coming from was Ava.

The blonde was aware of her older sister’s disdain for the limelight. Yet, she understood the crucial reasoning behind it and it happened to be Nathan wandering around in the states, hoping and praying to find his estranged wife. The last thing she would ever want was to see the camera’s forced in the older Halliwell’s face without her permission. Just because Cleo signed on did not mean Ava would allow them to invade her life and use her as chopped liver. If she was quite honest, out of the pairing, it was Cleo who could handle the long hours and rapid retorts when someone stepped on her toe. Anyone who dared to cross her pathway had to deal with the travesty and retaliation they liked it or not. It’s mostly why she was preservative to coddling Ava ─ who stated she could handle things on her own. From her own perception of her cerulean hues, she began to doubt otherwise but safeguard for one particular reason: some things were best left unsaid. The session of filming was rapid and nothing too strenuous on her but still, the honey-dyed female flaunted herself to the nines even in the vicinity of her house. A figure in her peripheral vision caused her to turn on her heel, boney hands intertwining in one another for a splitting moment. Standing on the opposite of the kitchen island, “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite stranger.” Greeting in a cordial tone, mouth corners rose to the home's ceiling at how much relief it was to see her sister now. Now, her fingers began to drum against the marble multi-toned countertop anticipating the supposed gifts. “Yeah because otherwise, I would’ve kicked your ass off. Not only do you ghost me but if you would’ve dared to step inside of my house without an apology present, out you go like I did with Evelyn in my life,” she expressed with ease. Not a single ounce of remorse in the latter portion of her words. Cerulean hues rolled at Ava before helping herself by digging into the confines of the bag and pulling them out, “Oh fuck, what a shame. I’m sure they would’ve loved a sister scene.” Hilarity was driven throughout each one of her words, a sly smirk and wink directly towards Ava. She would’ve much rather taken down the camera crew herself than allowing them to throw Ava to the wolves. “Nope, it was just a quick scene insert somewhere. Who else. I’ll see it when I air.” A shrug rolled off carelessly. A vaulted brow shot towards Ava, silvery tone lacking comfort as it was brittle and displeased by her sister’s disappearance, “A month. I’ve been counting.”

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; ava halliwell. )#avhalliwell

special delivery to ; @lizardkennedy

location ; cleo’s house in avalon

date & time ; march 22nd at 6:53pm

The moment her bothersome of a mother signed up for The Real Housewives of Catalina Island, the dyed honey tressed female made quite a few appearances upon the reality television show to enhance the drama further. Whilst the main focus was upon the housewives lurching at each other throats with their three hundred dollar manicures and dressed to their nines, Cleo wouldn’t deny how effortless it was to be in front of the cameras. It would help further grow her ever-advancing business brand. After leaving her day job from the Davey company, the job she got right before her college graduation, the scheme of putting her energy into things she was fervent about became her biggest priority. After all, throughout her whole upbringing and now, people informed her of being a descendant of a Swedish princess, even though she often lacked the grace due to the things that escaped from her lips, the tiara was meant to fit flawlessly on her styled locks. She’d never openly thank Evelyn for the opportunity to air out her mother’s dirty laundry on national television but in retrospect, everything was bound to hit airwaves sooner than later. It was Cleo who gave it the needed push to allow it to enter into the hands of Reina Rhodes. It was meant for television and that was final. Especially if Evelyn would shriek in disdain, payback was a bitch and it was Cleo in the flesh. When she heard from the production crew, after a quietude due to the housewives since they were in St. Barts, the eldest born of Evelyn Halliwell was ready to get her claws out for a potential round two of a bloodbath against her mother. She had the woman’s number blocked. So, if she attempted to contact her, it would bounce back and this time, she intended for it to stay that way. Still, for television and with her cutthroat, brutal honesty, the woman was ready to tackle the shrieking misfortune of her birth-giver but nothing happened among those terms. Sitting and waiting was not something Cleo Halliwell allowed. Not if it was going on an hour now. The production team and herself agreed on the evening being an ultimate waste of footage. So, sending them off in a green light, her slender digits ran through her beachy waves as she ambled around in her kitchen in her slippers ─ still being a woman of comfort and only wearing shoes around the house when necessary. The opening of her front door instantly caused her neck to whip in the direction, hands on her hips before doing a pivot on her heel to catch sight of Liza. “Let me guess, you smelled the production crew and thought you were going to have your five minutes of fame, Liza?” Addressing glacially, irritation coursing through her tone before huffing out a breath. It wasn’t Liza’s fault nor did she need to receive any backlash because of her mother. Motioning the other toward the l-shaped sectional, she remained occupied nearby her kitchen island knowing she’ll have to play hostesses. She’ll suffice for the other, she supposes. “What do you want to drink? And spill on why you’re here.”

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; elizabeth kennedy. )#lizardkennedy

❛ LOURDES HOWARD.

It had been on more than one or two occasions where someone would call Lourdes a mini Cleo, and it was a label the younger woman wore with pride. After all, being compared to only the best was something to be heralded; Cleo had been Jolie’s best friend, and an older sister figure to Lourdes, who spent more time in her company than her own sister’s calming presence. And when the younger woman started spouting tits, and starting learning her body in more detail than before, it was only natural that she understood her older pseudo sister even more. But now, as her own person, they’re equals. Lourdes transitioned from disciple to an equal, sitting in her bedroom and sipping on her wine and discussing outfits like her opinion mattered. “You know what I’m going to say, but I’ll say it again anyways. You’re never too old to hoe out! In fact, you can only be too young to hoe out. Trust me, I’ll be sixty and still getting them boob lifts and botox and look like a fucking belle of the ball. Don’t even try me.” Lourdes wasn’t sure why they were even looking at outfits, because she had forgotten to ask about occasion; which was fine, because she tended to zone out of every conversation once it stopped involving her in it. Eyes widened at the suggestion, and then followed Cleo’s gaze to the dress in question. “I mean…I could give it a go.” In an instant, Lourdes’s lithe body was off the bed and stripping off her clothes, slipping into the golden dress like it had been meant for her. “God, I could cry, I really love it. I thought it looked boring because of the print but wow…” She preened herself in the floor length mirror, her mind focused on making the dress look good on her body instead of listening to what Cleo was saying. “…huh, yeah yeah…wait. Why aren’t you getting laid?”

The moment when adolescence was kicked into full-gear, all of the attentiveness from her fellow boy classmates immediately lurched themselves onto the formerly chocolate-colored tresses. The unanticipated attention baffled her momentarily. All because she didn’t quite know how to process it for a couple of months. Here and there, finding guidance from the older figures in her life to assist her, but it was a learning process by her lone self. Seeing Lourdes as her own sister, whenever the youngest Howard girl went through adolescence, she took the duty off of Christian’s and Jolie’s hands to guide her into the field of goggling and encounters one could not be prepared for. Going through her own phase of being sultry, remaining in a phase where she only hooked up when it deemed necessary, it was a phase that she grew out of in her mid-twenties when work became her priority, but yet, she was living her youth all over again with the other girl in the elegantly decorated bedroom. Nothing astounds her, to begin with when Lourdes was around. If she wasn’t talking about her next ten suitors on the backburner then what kind of day would it be? Their own modern version of Freaky Friday. The response from the younger woman swiftly caused her cerulean hues into the back of her head and a snicker to follow suit afterward, “No, you’re wrong, I am too old to hoe out. I should be popping kids out left and right, Lourdes. Not going to the bar and attempting to come back home with my wobbly legs.” A hand resting upon her petite frame, singular vaulted brow occupying it’s the rightful side of her forehead as a visual of Lourdes in her sixties was painted flawlessly. “Just make sure you don’t look like my mother. Get your priorities straight or else I’ll never speak to you again if you look like a fucking duck.” Response gashing directly at Lourdes, it was potently interlaced with minimal hilarity but deceived by the way her expression happened to remain afloat. Often described Cleo happened to be the deceiving looks upon her overlay. Other times, it was effortless to pick up on her emotions which was typically vexed to the brim, but more recently, with the rendezvous with Miles added a peep in her step. Admiring the pseudo-sister from the distance in her full-length mirror, the widening state of her hues twinkled with how this dress flawlessly suited Lourdes curves, “Sweetie,” she inserted swiftly as a handheld up to her, not wanting her to say another word. In typical Lourdes manner, her mouth will open and say another hazardous thing which is why Cleo was always working on educating the other to keep an open mind rather before judging. “There are some hideous patterns of Versace but who the fuck do you think I am? A has-been? Fuck no.” An arrant tone educated the other. Tucking a strand of her dyed locks behind her ear, her posture adjusted minimally, “Because I’m trying to build up the mystery with this current guy that I am seeing.” False words though. He had been inside her five years beforehand. Those were details Lourdes did not need to know about Cleo’s relationship with Miles though. Some secrets existed for a reason after all.

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; lourdes howard. )#lourdeshoward

❛ JASON RHODES.

It’s not surprising to Jason that Cleo would wish death upon him — she’s never been shy about her distaste for him and he doesn’t exactly expect her to start now, but when she brings up the supposed pandemic that’s sweeping the nation in an attempt to terrorize him, he can’t help but scoff. “That shit’s dumb. Fuckin’ hoax if you ask me.” Jason’s the type to believe he’s tougher than a silly little virus, and the thought of actually catching that shit hasn’t even crossed his mind. As she continues to blab on and on about ruining his life or whatever teeny bopper bullshit she’s threatening him with, Jason lets a hand pass over his face in pure irritation. “The only thing you run is your goddamn mouth, Cleo, Jesus fuck.” He’s about to just start tuning her incessant yapping out, but then Cleo mentions something he just can’t seem to ignore. At first he’s not even focused on the fact that she says she’s fucking pregnant, he’s more irritated that she just associated Miles as a part of his family. Just because Reina took his sorry ass in doesn’t mean Jason will ever claim Miles as his own. “Good thing Miles ain’t my fuckin’ kid.” Once the words leave his mouth, though, he realizes that if she’s dead serious, there’s more than likely going to be a screaming baby in his presence and the mere thought of that is enough to flare his temper. It’s gotta be a lie, but he also wouldn’t put it past Miles to knock this stupid bitch up, so he can’t quite count the possibility out yet. Still, he refuses to entertain her bullshit, he just tosses his glass in the sink with so much force it’s a wonder it doesn’t shatter. “Seriously, just shut the fuck up, would you? Go get my kid, do whatever fucking dumb bitch bullshit you make her do, and get the fuck out of my house before I dropkick your ass out of here.” He points to the stairs where Iris is still yet to be found, practically frothing at the mouth in his efforts to get Cleo the fuck away from him before he does some shit he’s going to regret. He’d much rather have her upstairs and out of sight than in his general vicinity where it’s way too tempting to take a knife from the kitchen counter and have some fun. “I’m serious — go.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” she fractured swiftly in evident disdain. The sensation of her teeth striking against each other gave her body the signal to pull out her demon card. While she did not attempt to be civil with him, now she had enough of his foolishness and was ready to wish ill-on him even if word got back to Reina. What was she going to do? Lecture her about respecting her elders? There was only one person she respects and it was Reina. Jason could rot in hell. And the day he passes on, she’ll be dancing on his grace... literally. Cavernous breathes, vexation effortlessly coating her prominent features, sustaining her distance whilst ready to dig a dragger. Just like he deserves it. “I hope you fucking get this virus now. I hope you contract from one of your fucking skanks and both of you die a slow, painful death as all of your organs are tearing themselves apart and you’re crying in misery.” Stopping to only catch her breath. Tangent would continue on. “As well, I hope your family is nowhere to be seen while you’re suffering because you do not fucking deserve any of them. I hope you die and Reina finds a happy life with someone else.” Spitting out a fire of gashing words, regardless if they ached, she set fort into the atmosphere that Reina deserved internal happiness without him. What she saw in his piece of shit still baffles her. Sometimes, Cleo wonders why Reina even attempts to lecture her when in reality, it’s Reina who needed the lecture. More damage than love in the graces of this household. “And damn-fucking right I do. I know how to terrorize whether you like it or not,” she stroke in a glacial and interlaced ferocious tone. The blonde hit the bullseyes. Whilst she despised the fact she had to bring Miles into this, it still proved she had an upper hand one way or another. “Really? I heard otherwise.” Mendacious indication meant Cleo was just digging him further in uncharted territories. Sticking her hip out, gently tapping her ballet flat, all she could do was carefully observe the other and the erratic reaction. “No congratulations in order, Jason? Come on, it’s a big day! We’re going to be family.” A cheeky grin shot at him like an idiot ─ just like she was playing him. It wasn’t like he would even more how far along she was. There were many women who didn’t show till later months. Although she did just spread strenuous information to get underneath his skin, all she wanted to do was further proceed on irritating him. “Fucking chill out, grandpa.” Gashing through the air glacially, now her cerulean hues were tempered and her intentions of leaving were appearing. The blonde could’ve sworn Iris was making her way downstairs or making it known she was coming. Yet, she needed to make one last grand gesture considering it was Cleo and she loved to make her mark. Nearing the archway of the kitchen to the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder as a guileful smirk and devious menacing look occupied her, “Say hi to Safiya for me, won’t you? It’s been a while since I spoke to that darling.” Word traveled fast in this small island, shivering at even calling Safiya a darling in the same sentence. Hell, just take her now. Unfortunately for him, she knew everything even if she didn’t spread it around like wildfire ─ just like the kitchen incident ─ it was her dagger for the worst-case scenario. “I heard she missed her period. You probably should check on that,” she devilishly commented through a chortle. And the last of her words made her final departure, it took less than a nanosecond to see Iris before liftin and placing her on her hip before heading out the door. She’ll make sure to inform Reina to pick Iris up at her place later.

THE END.

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; jason rhodes. )#jasonrhcdes

❛ ROWAN THANE.

Green eyes roll at Cleo’s remark about not being ashamed of her body, but it’s out of amusement rather than any actual distaste. She gets it; she’s not exactly shy about her own body, either. There had been a brief period after both of her pregnancies where she would find herself anxious if she was showing too much skin, pressuring herself to get her body back to exactly the way it was pre-baby immediately – and it had taken her nearly eight months to become comfortable with the c-section scar that’s dotted across her abdomen now, but for the most part she’s arguably arrogant when it comes to her physical appearance. “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already, to be honest,” she remarks offhandedly, trying to think back to a time it may have happened— she’s sure there have been close calls, at least. “If we make it to a decade without seeing each other naked I might have to flash you just to cross the milestone off,” she laughs, an unladylike snort accentuating it. The question about Andy’s game prompts a short shrug and she moves to grab her phone, unlocking the screen to double check the store before locking it again. “S’tied for now. They’re on a winning streak, though, so fingers crossed that doesn’t end tonight or I’ll never hear the end of it.” But Rowan knows that Cleo isn’t really into the sport, despite having gone to more than one game with her; though most are spent up in the box with a glass of wine only half watching the game while Ro tried to point out some of Andy’s single teammates to her. Until she realized that Cleo dating an athlete opened up the possibility of her spouse being traded and their friendship being wedged apart by distance and she had slowed down that train. But, she still liked to bring Cleo along whenever she was willing, even if only to talk shit on the wives and girlfriends that Rowan didn’t get along with.

The blush decorating Cleo’s cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed and Rowan can’t help but be happy for her friend. Cleo hasn’t exactly had a good dating record in the past and she relates to that — before she met Andy her romantic life had been a series of short lived relationships with boys who could compete for who is the biggest asshole in Louisiana. Luckily she had met Andy when she was only eighteen, though, so she had managed to spend the majority of her life with someone who loved her and treated her better than she ever really thought possible, even if it had taken them a few years to get there. “At least he’s someone we already know,” she points out with a laugh, “don’t have to worry about him killing the vibe.” Rowan’s known Miles for so long she feels like she can barely remember life before him — and she does think he and Cleo make a good match. She knows that he’d treat her the way she deserves to be treated, and she’ll do the same in return but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little worried about what a breakup would mean for the dynamic Cleo has built with her family, but she doesn’t linger on that. Instead, she focuses on the way Cleo’s eyes are shining and the way her smile is practically lighting up the room as she talks about Miles, and just lets herself be happy for two of her friends. “I think it’s good, even if I did have to hear about it second hand.” Not that she’s actually that upset about it, because that’s just the way their lives are — especially now that the show has begun filming. Christ, Reina heard about Rowan’s engagement through a tabloid article and that was nearly twelve years ago. It happens. “I think you’re good for each other. You think it’ll become official?”

If there was one person who understood Cleo’s words instead of taking any sort of offense to them, it was Rowan in the flesh. After ten years, all that the pairing went through in their lives only proved they could tackle the world together, but as well, life was too short to take everything and let it consume you. They were the definition of taking things with a grain of salt. While she knew all that happened to Ro in the past with both Benny and Maddie, none of her words were meant to be malicious. The honey-dyed blonde cherishes her best friend for all of her courage and all she overcame. If and whenever Cleo were to grow her family, which had been something she thought considering she was not getting any younger and wanted to eventually visualize herself in a happy and healthy relationship, each part of the woman just hopes to have the courage and the confidence like the other nearby her after having children. A warrior was how Cleo often references Rowan Thane. Still, even midst the topic of their dynamic and how they haven’t seen the other nude was comical to her. The array of illumination was still present as her range of tone was bouncy in a lighthearted way. “Imagine that... us, probably the least prude of women to exist in this town, and nearly going ten years. Baffling, Rowan Thane.” Attempting to convey a firm, severe tone as a forced overlay inched but it eventually slithered through as she couldn’t help but snort. Anyone who would’ve walked into this conversation would’ve questioned their friendship. It was just another day of an amusing topic amongst them. “Seriously, do it! Thank God for my new boobs, soon to celebrate their five year anniversary, I think it’s time to give them a show to you.” Hands eventually cupping her own enhanced size of the chest with pride, her naturally vaulted brows dancing in a jocular motion to no music nearby. Now hands resting upon her stomach, moving with the motions of her stomach going up and down, she may not be the biggest fan of hockey but she asked because she cared about her friends. “God,” she began in a razor-sharp entrance, hues rolling into the back of her head. A slight disdain inched upon her mouth corner and hue corners. “I’m so grateful I do not have to deal with that.” Huffing out in a cavernous sigh, staring up toward the ceiling at the moment. Grateful Rowan stopped setting her up with hockey players. It would’ve meant she had to learn the sport if one of the dates did work out. “Let’s just hope or else I’ll have to threaten a baseball bat to Andy’s kneecap,” she enforced without hesitant in a dry, minimally laced hilarity, knowing no actions would ever happen and she believed all will be okay at the end of the evening. It was a common phrase and threat Cleo gave to people in her mid-twenties. The obsession with baseball bats happened to be peculiar. Whenever she purchased a bat, it wasn’t used for playing purposes, but more of milestones in her life. It was peculiar. It was like her. Still, while she cared to ask and enforced the threat if ever needed. The thought of ever losing Rowan and Andy due to a trade consumed her often. Every part of her would not be sane if one-off evening caused them to pack their belongings up. It was the last thing she wanted to think about tonight.

As the swift diversion to the topic of Cleo’s love life deepened, there was no point in allowing her growing emotions and feelings for Miles to remain locked airtight. It was surreal to her. Considering the last relationship she endured, as unfortunate and life-shattering it was, the whole experience allowed her to further grow and realize her worth. While Patrick may have thought Cleo did not deserve a happy ending, the woman could speak millions in return to how he deserved to rot in hell alongside her mother as both of them got a taste of their own medicine, but the likelihood of that happening was slim to none. In her wildest dreams, the two people she despised the most would deal with their life consequences. And while she shouldn’t focus the pessimism upon them considering the current enhancement of her emotions and love consuming her, the thoughts that consumed her and minimally caused her to huff out a razor-sharp snarl to shake off the thoughts. Adjusting herself comfortably once again on Andy’s position of the bed, her cerulean hues carefully studied over Ro and any hidden statements that may not be brought to life. Her top lip-biting into the bottom of her petal, allowing an enclosed laugh stay locked in her mouth, “Yeah, that’s a definite bonus in comparison to the past suitors.” Truthfully admitting, it was a hit but also a miss type of situation if things did not go as planned. It could be a substantial fall out with both families ─ The Rhodes and The Thanes ─ due to their alliance with Miles. They were family. Whereas Cleo was just a bystander who effortlessly collided with them all and has been inseparable with them since then. Still, the worries were minimal but they lingered around. The emotions and the way her heart was rapidly beating just thinking about him could not be described with words to inform Rowan. The flush stance upon the apple of her cheeks could prove Miles made her feel like a girl in high school seeing her crush walk down the hallway every single morning. When she first met Patrick, she didn’t have these emotions ─ she was comfortable with him, but never did her heart leap uncontrollably for a man until now. It was unlike anything before. This was something she would never experience with another and she never wanted to lose the feeling. It may have been too easy to say but the women knew she would fall further in love with Miles Ellis each and every single day ─ there was no possibility of her ever falling out of love with him and this was a promise. Teeth clenched, partially guilty at not allowing Ro to be the first person to know, she had her particular reasons and did not expect anyone following their moves in the first place. Neither one of them were housewives. So why were they fascinated? She didn’t have an answer. “You’re technically the only person that I’ve admitted to the tabloids affirmations. Probably because I trust your judgment more than anyone,” she soothed in a compassionate, wanting to build up the other even in the importance of the moment talking about Cleo’s love life. The only sight worthy of her cerulean happened to be Rowan, the glaze of her hues twinkled in optimism about her future with Miles. “I do.” Now beaming from ear to ear, feeling the heat increase upon her cheeks. God, was this finally the possibility of a happily ever after for her? “Ro, I want this more than anything....” Whispering as if someone was listening in on them, but no one else understood her as well as Ro did and she knew she could be vulnerable around the other. If anything, the other could read into her conscience and know what was longed for in relationships since all of their time together. “and I’m going to get it. I’m going to make sure my future is with Miles Ellis,” she confirmed confidently. In all of the years, the woman who was usually vexed and ready to throw daggers was showing a sight of being soft, falling further in love, and ready to plan for the future confidently for once. Her thirties were definitely the best years of her life.

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; rowan thane. )#rcwanthane #damn this got long #i'm sorry omfg

❛ MILES ELLIS.

SARA VILARO:

@milesawayellis, @challiwcll.

“Miles Thaddeus Ellis!” screeches of Sara’s tone raised an octave as she yelled the males name across the house. After the Founders Day Ball, Sara made a promise to come and cook for him and anyone that knew the female, she stuck to her word. Top priority whenever it came to the male since he was her best friend, but she’d never say that aloud to him. That, and also because the rumours of a relationship fizzling between her two friends sparked her curiosity. “Idiota, why do leave your front door unlocked? I could have been an Arbonne representative and God forbid a scammer like that ever shows up at your front door.” she continued on, a light snort permeating from her nose as she humoured herself with her own joke. Though it hadn’t really been a joke since Sara was a doctor herself, and it wasn’t hard for her to differentiate what was a health scam and what wasn’t. Dumping the bag of groceries on the counter along with her jacket and scarf, she continued to search for the male in his own home, now doubting that he was even home in the first place. “Mil – oh, there you are.” stopping herself before she could puncture her throat even more, she rose a brow at him. “Why are you sweaty?”

Miles had been busy. In his bedroom. With his female companion. Okay, no, that sounded wrong on so many levels; Miles was making out with Cleo, their second or third secret encounter where they were unable to keep their hands off each other, and keeping things under the cover were key. He had an off day at work, and with his lover in his arms, he thought they could have had a quick tryst in his bedroom before their real life commitments caught up with them. The sound of Sara’s voice quickly dashed any of the dreamy romantic notions the man could have been cooking up, and in a bid to hide the evidence, he had shoved Cleo into a cupboard alongside his gym shorts and decent shirts. Everything was a whirlwind, a shirt being tugged onto his body immediately, just as he came face to face with Sara. Under any circumstances, Miles was nothing if not a smooth talker, a great liar. But right now, out of breath and covered in a light sheen of sweat, he was struggling to come up with anything. “….uhh, I was working out. Home gym, very exclusive, Reina said only Jason’s allowed to use it! So you cannot go in there!”

@challiwcll

It was nothing of the unusual on Miles and Cleo’s sexual escapades. Once they both united with each other, a week after their innocent Valentine’s Day of an evening, the wiring of their souls could not take being further away from one another. Whilst she would’ve much rather it has not been happening in his bedroom ─ considering the multitude of factors such as Reina or the kids walking in on them ─ the blonde went wherever her lover wanted her. Lost in the language of their love, it meant Cleo was bare in the stance of having no shirt for his playful measures considering he openly admitted to loving her boobs and the lack thereof in terms of her pants which were thrown on the opposite side of the room. As the physical heat, hands roaming over one another’s body and the sweat slowly started to consume their flawless complexions and inches of their bodies, the swift motion of her boyfriends next moves had perplexed in his closest whilst swatting away his gym shorts and decent shirts ─ pit stains and all ─ in her face. This was unfamiliar to her. Even when she was in high school, the female did not have to once worry about hiding from other patrons in question. Considering that Reina knew from the tabloids and grilling Cleo at their lunch, the only other person who knew the truth about the pairing was Rowan. Vexed, mostly because of the fact that she was going to get laid and potentially eaten out again but to be interrupted by whomever, the honey-colored blonde had no intention of hiding their relationship any second longer regardless of who it was and how she was dressed. Opening up the closest in a flushed state because of the closest heat, the cerulean hues of the woman instantly scooted behind Miles to cover her minimally dressed body. “If you fucking think I am going to stay in that closet which is a goddamn sauna in there... I will have you licking off my sweat during sex whether you like it or not, daddy.” Breathing in an intensified, raspy range rather demanding on what she expects from him later, she was caught up in an irritating moment at everything unfolding within a swift. Now, a hand resting upon this broad shoulder, which had bite marks and the sight of her nails still dug into the flesh, only to stand up on her tippy toes to false a clenched smile toward Sara. Mortified, she was, but the sight was submerged by her calm and collected demeanor. “Uh... hi, I’m weights. His... weights.” Silvery tone greeted in a cumbersome tone only to stiffly wave and a singular upturn, swiftly hiding her face into his back. Realizing one of her best friends, their mutual, was standing to see the sight of them both but having a drilled image of a near bare Cleo ─ not that she was embarrassed by her physique at all.

next up ; @saravilaro

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; miles ellis. )#( ─ conversations ; sara vilaro. )#milesawayellis #saravilaro

❛ REINA RHODES.

The retelling of Cleo’s newfound relationship with Miles couldn’t be more unnecessary, and Reina immediately holds up a hand to stop her from saying any more about what they have and haven’t done in bed together, disgust evident on her features as she cuts Cleo off. “Okay, that’s — I didn’t need to know that, thank you.” Details of Miles’s sex life with Cleo aren’t something Reina ever wants to hear about, regardless of whether or not they are nonexistent. It’s clear as day that Cleo hadn’t been expecting a reprimand from her and truthfully, Reina’s happy to know the blonde has enough respect for her to be at least a little bit afraid of her. She doesn’t need Cleo’s permission to pick Miles should things go South between the two of them, but she’s glad the younger woman is smart enough to realize that’d be the outcome should they ever decide to call it quits without Reina having to spell it out for her. “I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you but I will choose him, every single time. And if you ruin his life I will ruin yours, you know I will.” Her threat isn’t empty by any means but it’s one she has to give, one she’d give to any woman who thinks they’re good enough for Miles. Cleo’s lucky she’s not just any bitch from the street, though, she’s lucky there’s history between the two of them, because otherwise Reina would be a lot harsher than she’s choosing to be right now. In all honesty, she thinks the two of them are a good match, even if their getting together seems to have come out of nowhere. Reina just hopes they don’t move too fast and fuck it up for themselves, because if they do, there’s no question where her loyalty lies.

Heaving a sigh, she decides to drop the protective mother act as she leans on the table between them with folded hands, choosing to level with Cleo rather than continue with her scare tactics. The apology she’s been given isn’t entirely necessary but Reina’s content to know that Cleo thinks she’s fucked up by not coming to her right away, and it confirms the younger woman’s sense of loyalty towards her. Being the narcissist that she is, Reina will always be placated by an apology that sounds more like a grovel, and it does wonders to keep her calm and level headed in a moment when she otherwise might not be so understanding. “Cleo, I’m not pissed that you’re with him.” That’s not entirely true, she’s definitely a little pissed off at the thought of Cleo stealing Miles away, but that’s at least not where the majority of her anger comes from. “If anything I think he’ll treat you how you deserve to be treated, even if he is a fucking shit. I’m pissed that I had to find out about it from a goddamn tabloid. Do you understand how embarrassing that is?”

In all retrospect, the honey-haired woman should be aware of the line of boundaries at her thirty-two years upon this planet. Considering her whole life, regardless of the moment, she had been an open book for those to read and share. If she expressed it to those in conversation, it meant no one could hold anything against her. Yet, at this moment, in particular, the words about her sexual activities with Miles ─ bound to happen sooner than later ─ had entered into the atmosphere for the wrong reasons. Mostly to attempt to ease the agonizing distress of Reina but instead, it made the atmosphere stiff and unpleasant. It was then and there when Cleo has to learn and remind herself to not share openly with everyone. There was a fine line. Swiftly sweeping right in, stiffening a controlled demeanor and a flat-line in her celestial range to respond to Reina, “You’re absolutely right. That was... my own fault,” she apologized but avoided the other’s eyesight in a childish manner. Still, it was her attempt and the best efforts to remind Reina of her undying loyalty, yet as well, how she does not want to imagine the bond both of them to be broken permanently. This was one person that she could never lose. Nor did she ever want to lose. Not being the usual woman to wear her heart on her sleeve, the ways she shows her care and compassion towards the pseudo-mother figure was valued by all of the extensive moments of proving her undying loyalty and always finding solace by rushing to Reina first. Well, in at this particular moment in terms of her relationship with Miles, but all of that aside. Cerulean hues couldn’t avoid the woman nor should she ever, it wasn’t Cleo to run nor hide from confrontation but tackle it by the horns which was what she was doing precisely. “I respect that. I understand that. Consequences would have to be made for the worst-case scenario. I am completely aware.” Once again, the subdue rejoinder and a singular nod her head indicated her critical and serious understanding without any witty retort. The point was made. There was no other need to allow the harping of sides to continue on.

The state of her shoulders had no desire to collapse into a stupored state. Perhaps when she got home, considering she was holding on by a thread in terms of her energy, she would collapse onto the couch. But, right now, all she had to do was apologize and explain everything to help the other to understand the mentality of the couple on why they didn’t share it with others. Still, she knew Reina deserves to have been the first person to know. This was her pseudo-mother. The rarity of admitting her love never surfaced into the air. Yet, when Evelyn failed to convince her daughter to put her zestful energy into investments rather than blows to one’s ego, it’s how the birth of her podcast began and the future sea of endeavors coming her way. It was like Reina wanted to see her succeed in terms of financial matters because there was a mind and alternative dream of having her dream brought to life. “Reina, you know that I genuinely mean this from the bottom of my heart. Fuck, if it was Evelyn grilling me about this, I would’ve torn that Owen Wilson nose looking of a mother to shreds but I just....” Huffing out an aching sigh, leaning back into the restaurant's chair whilst running a hair through her straight tresses and hues shutting to attempt to form the words. Trembling digits resting underneath her chin to bring her back to reality and calm herself down. “I am scared. It doesn’t just affect one relationship but two ─ ours as well,” she quietly admits as the defeat and the rarity of the vulnerability nearly forgetting the cameras were glued to them. None of that mattered anymore. The moment was here and Reina needed to know. Happy she was to know that Reina isn’t pissed off at Cleo being with Miles but for once, things in terms of love make sense. Even if it’s all happening rapidly, it would be a shame if she didn’t enjoy it and allow it to flourish it properly. Hands intertwined and resting in the pit of her lap, “It is embarrassing and rightfully so. Trust me when I say that... it’s all fresh and so new, I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up especially mine. I could fall for him and he could never feel the same way. That’s what I’m scared about. That’s why I was never expecting people to find out until I knew, he knew... we knew.” A pause to collect the sea of emotions consuming her readily. There was a slight ping of wetness growing in both of her hues as they drilled into the chestnut reflection. Rarely did she cry, nor wail up, but if she ever upset or disappointed Reina Rhodes... her whole world would crumble. “You’ll be the first to know from now on. I promise it on Evelyn’s broken nose.”

#( ─ conversations ; reina rhodes. )#( ─ conversations. )#reinarhcdes

❛ MILES ELLIS.

tagging | @challiwcll

Walking was a fucking chore, as Miles stumbled towards a particular destination in mind. He had been overreacting about the breaking rib, but it didn’t hurt any less to breathe. He definitely looked like a mess and then some, and the looks he was getting from the people passing by only confirmed that it wasn’t just what he wasn’t feeling on the inside. But he couldn’t go home. Miles didn’t want to go home, because going home would mean going for round two with Jason, and for his Ma’s sake, he wouldn’t start another fight. For the kids’ sakes too. He wasn’t a hardass, Miles wasn’t; he loved his family, and that’s why he hated Jason so much.

He was at Cleo’s front door, hoping she would be home. And not ask questions. Oh why are you all bruised up? What can I say, sweetcheeks, I’m a fighter not a lover. Okay, maybe one question he was willing to answer. But why at Cleo’s front door? Simply because, after everything that had transpired in the days after their…dalliance, the man couldn’t help but feel like a kinship to the blonde, finding her company comforting, and the only one he needed right then.

Knocking, he tried to keep it casual, play off the bruises like a bad boy’s ruse and tried not to wince in pain as he leaned against the wall. “Hey girl, did you call for some bad boys with a side of your boyfriend?” Just because he was injured, didn’t mean Miles still didn’t want to flirt.

Tonight’s activity has been mundane ─ folding laundry, adjusting Iris bedroom, and even cleaning the spotless kitchen for her own sanity. In the distance, the television was playing re-run episodes of Friends whilst a snug look occupied her petite frame. Oversized UC Berkeley sweatshirt and sweatpants which was her typical wear when it came to spending the evening home. Even with the television in the distance, the dyed blonde could hear Garfield running back and forth from her bedroom to the kitchen as he felt the need to play toward the time of slumber. Every once in awhile, she couldn’t help but go to her phone and see if Miles had responded back. Still nothing. Given the fact it was a working evening for him, Iris & Eve was most likely erupting considering it was the hot spot of Catalina since it’s open and his focus needed to be on the establishment. The last time she went to the restaurant to see him caused a tabloid to discuss their relationship ─ which had been the beginning but since then, they had been climbing upward. She’d just have to wait for any response back.

Right as the blonde walked right past her phone to turn down the television, a knock on her front echoed through the sizable home in Avalon as it was immediate to catch her attention. Swiftly gliding from point A where the remote was to the front door took less than a few moments. God, how much she missed Miles at this particular moment. Just to be in his embrace and to feel at home with him. This was everything she just wanted at this particular moment. Considering how their activities have been for the last few weeks, intimate and allowing each other to explore their bodies again, her body was wired to him. Any time she was away from him, her heart ached and just wanted to be glued to him ─ nothing she had felt in lovers from the past. All of those words she said to him in his bedroom still stuck. God, could he just give her a sign that he was okay.

Opening the front door from its locks, her cerulean hues instantly illuminated and glossed into their newest venture of being laced with love as he was there. There went her beating heart. Rapid. All because of the sight of Miles. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so glad you’re here,” she breathed in relief before standing on her tippy toes to embrace him momentarily. Only to step aside to allow her boyfriend to enter into her residency afterward, considering it was typically them in his bedroom. “Don’t laugh at me but I missed you.” It was a love laced whimper confession falling off the prong of her tongue. Rarely did she admit such things. It just didn’t help that he was an infection that she never wanted to get rid of. “I was tempted to go down to Iris & Eve to yell at you for not answering me. You know, I can’t help that I insist the world revolves around me.” Retorting with a vaulted brow and a slight cocksure attitude to her words. Only wanting to catch a sight of the male in the light and comparison to the dim street light in the distance. Bruises. What the fuck did he get up to? And who was it with? Maybe that’s why he was silent. It did cause a sharp pain in the pit of her chest, but she still loved him ─ the moment to nurse his wounds were here. “Baby,” she breathed before nearing the distance in a vexed emotion considering the baby was sharp and murderous, digits beginning to graze the wounds upon his face. Softly movements, carefully investigating the damage with furrowed brows from optical angles, “I did call my boyfriend even if he’s beaten to fucking shit. If you think you’re going to go down on me without explaining to me what the fuck happened to you first, we’re going to have a problem.”

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; miles ellis. )#milesawayellis

❛ JASON RHODES.

Honestly, Jason fucking hates Cleo. Not only does she annoy the absolute hell out of him, but she’s always around his goddamn house, hanging out with his daughter or crawling up his wife’s asshole in what he thinks is a pretty fucking sad attempt at getting Reina to pay attention to her. Since he met her, she’s been nothing but a thorn in his side, constantly giving him an attitude that makes him itching to rip her vocal cords out with his bare his. Did he try to hit on her the first time they met? Sure, but that’s the norm for Jason, and ever since then, there’s been absolutely no love lost between the two of them. In fact, he’s pretty sure there isn’t a person on this island he hates more than her, aside maybe from his sister-in-law and her dumb fuck husband — and that’s a pretty tough spot to snag, since he hates a lot of people. The lazy smirk he’d had going turns into a snarl when she flicks him off and tells him to go fuck himself, as she usually does when she sees him, and like always his temper flares right on cue. “Might wanna watch that fucking mouth of yours, Cleo.” He downs the rest of his drink as he listens to her tangent, not phased by it in the slightest. “S’that little speech supposed to scare me? That’s fuckin’ cute.” Her little blonde ass wouldn’t even be able to come close to Jason without him ripping her to shreds, but he’s gotta give her credit for the creativity. She’s clearly been hanging out with Reina far too often, because apparently their minds work the same when it comes to long, drawn out murders. Personally, he likes to take the easy route, to slit a throat and be done with it, and he’d love to do exactly that to Cleo after the way she’s just spoken to him but he’s been trying to be good since he got to Catalina — keyword: trying. “You’re lucky my wife would have my balls if somethin’ bad happened to you, but I gotta be honest, that really ain’t doing much to stop me right now.”

There only a person that Cleo believes that deserves a death wish ─ and it’s Jason Rhodes. It was clear that the man is an evident waste of space. Not only did he smell the foul, aged beer from a few weeks ago lingering upon his clothing, whilst living in a lavish home perched up in Ventura with a multitude of bathrooms at his disposal, but it also seems as if it was far from his concern to care about his hygiene during a pandemic. Then again, perhaps the coronavirus will take him out once and for all. She wasn’t opposed to the natural selection of this virus doing its wonders. Whilst the ideas crept into her conscience, a cunning upturn of a singular mouth corner consumed her, knowing she would be viciously chuckling in the distance at his pure stupidity on his death bed. It would only vex the older man further knowing Cleo was romantically seeing his adopted son, Miles, as well. Yet, whilst she avoided to provide that latter information only to use it as a jab when it was needed ─ if he thought he could ever get rid of her, then he didn’t know how much of a fighter she truly was and how her attachment to the family was further intertwining. Tilting her head in the opposite direction at the words from the older man, pursed lips as she hummed momentarily whilst remaining oddly calm and collected to get underneath his skin, “Your threats do nothing to me either, Jason. Not from the first once I met you,” she confessed in a razor-sharp, gashing fight and flight response. Keeping her distance, only to allow her arms to cross tightly over her chest as cerulean hues stared at him hostilely, “As a matter of fact, two can play this game and I would love for the coronavirus to do wonders to you right now. Considering the fact if you were to pass on... no one in your family would even grieve over your departure from this planet. I hope natural selection does wonders for you.” Falsing a saccharine tone, her ping-pong sized hues grew to a tempered state, doing what was typically the best approach to everything ─ killing with the kindness and the brutal reality of how despised he genuinely was by everyone. Hues rolling into the back of her head, snickering at his self insert, “I don’t care if it doesn’t phase you. The only thing you will never know is how much I am willing to ruin your life because I run this fucking island. You’re just a guest in my territory.” And it was true that Reina brought out another side to Cleo since their establishment in the last five years, the blonde was far from sane long before then. If anything, she helped intensify these erratic emotions and words. Although his next sea of words amused her even further, aware this conversation was simply killing her time until Iris came downstairs. The younger sister was probably far too focused upon the multitude of designer shoes to pick from. “Awww, fuck me,” she breathed through a false, bummed tone as if her facial expression was bland as white bread sitting on the shelves of the local grocery store. False sniffling, just like she taught Iris a couple months ago, “Would you really want to kill me? I am bearing your future grandchild after all.....” There she was going with the mention of Miles and herself. Only a few knew including Reina. Illuminating in a cheeky smile as hands collapsed together in a wicked tone laced in-between her silvery range, “Congratulations, grandpa! Miles and I are expecting. Bringing another legacy to the Rhodes family.”

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; jason rhodes. )#jasonrhcdes #im ctfu

❛ MILES ELLIS.

CLEO HALLIWELL

There is no recollection to a time when her soul wanted to be devoured by another to the capacity Cleo was wanting Miles to mark his territory upon her slender frame. No lover, no one night stand, no one ever made her feel as such. It was remarkable. Yet, when her soul reconnected with him once again ─ without the pairing masticating each other’s heads off it was yearning for his tender touch grazing upon her. It was like her soul and heart knew what she deserved long before the importance of the male consumed her conscience. This moment from now on was an affirmation for her. Affirmation that her heart was going to belong to the male. Affirmation that nothing else mattered to her in this moment and from now on other than allowing him to mark her inch by inch ─ to take the rightful ownership of her ever-beating organ that only skyrocketed with speed at the sight of him or being nearby him. Love had always been in front of her. Life wanted her to endure the lowest of lowest ─ unspeakable heartache ─ only to find the male that she was falling helplessly, madly and feverishly in love with. Miles Ellis was going to be a drug that would keep her afloat from her very last breath on this earth.

The thought of being torn from this blissful, euphoric moment instantaneously darted over her mind. She didn’t want to leave his room and to imagine the worst. To see him treat her in a way they were familiar with ─ bickering like children and making it impossible to imagine them in any other moment other than allowing their souls to intertwine and call each other home. While these thoughts dared to occupy her, it did not last for long before the pressing sensation of his forehead against hers caused a sigh of relief to fall off gracefully. The way her hands remained occupied on the nape of his neck, digits gently tugged on the jet black tresses. Cerulean wandering hues knowing she will never get tired of the sight of him and at this particular moment. They were here. Both of them were at this moment together. In a state of tranquility whilst allowing themselves to find each other once and for all. All she wanted was a future with him. Whether it be full of complications or be the simplest thing that ever happened to her ─ there was no one else she wanted to stand by. Through thick and thin. To be only his. To have his surname. To make him the luckiest, yet the happiest man in the entire world, it was all she knew that she would provide him. The confines of her heart had so much to give to the rightful person. He was that person. He was forever.

God, his words had a way to make her beam widen instantly like a child on Christmas morning seeing the vast array of presents underneath the tree. Seeing him smile made her heart flutter. The blonde did that. Every desire in her body knew that’s all she wanted to continue to do was bring that lace of a smile upon his complexion every day of his life. No harm will ever come his way with her. Lips colliding happily against his own again as they wrote stories worth millions of moments. Closer to him than her legs tightly wrapped around his waist, chest pressing against his as her one hand began to roam over his clothed chest, falling further into his love. “Baby,” she breathed after suppressing air once again. God, she could get used to this and how lost they were finding themselves. Love-laced hues flickered over him, in the comfort of his hand slipped underneath her shirt as she wanted this. All she needed to do was respond to his previous words. “First off ─ I want it all with you. No one else but you, Miles Ellis. As long as you take me as I am.” Tone spoke through a raspy range, glazing over him through her thick lashes as the hunger and the heat growing between her legs as it was bound to happen. This was how they collide first and foremost. “I’m not letting you go.” The words were stern, yet demanding to him, as they did not match the intensity of love growing for him. “You can stop looking. You won’t find another woman like me. I’m meant for you and you’re meant for me.” It was her final point. It came with her cut-throat self-assurance on the type of woman that she is. No one could ever compare to what she could give him. Leaning closer to his ear, her lower teeth grazed his ear lobe before venereal interlace flowed into his ears, “I want you to show me everything that you can through the way you treat my body,” she paused, abruptly. Hues to returning back to the sight of his face especially to catch his reaction at her next words as a smirk greeted him, “I also want you to feel and see how wet you make me.” Now, this was where the fun would begin. The language of love and intimacy. How ready she was to greet him. Open heart. Open soul. Importantly, open legs.

Maybe there was love amidst the chaos that was the two of them. Every fight may as well have been their mating call, if they hadn’t been so blind to the obvious. But Miles wasn’t good at picking up on signs, and if it wasn’t for his gut telling him to go for it, he would have been stood there, watching Cleo undress and then sending her off on her merry way. There was something to be said about this, there was a term for it. He had learned in one of his online classes about humans and attraction and the science behind it, even though he studying Business Administration. He could feel in the way his body was wired to know hers, how it felt familiar and different as his fingertips danced gently across her ribcage, slowly making their way to her beating heart. Where she said she loves him.

Miles found himself actually loving the sensation of another human being this close to him. A lifetime of grizzly affairs left him jaded, thinking he was meant to be alone forever, and he had made peace with that. Casual flings periodically, girls he’d sleep with and then never call back the next day, people who came in and out of periphery, never staying too close to the flames that was Miles’s life. But he could have sworn that Catalina Island was magical; it was idyllic and he found himself purged of his sins, a life he led before this. He still finds himself in dingy places, holding things he doesn’t like anymore, and he’s inching away. Something legitimate, like having a job at Iris and Eve. Like having a degree. Like being so wholeheartedly in love with someone, that accepting it felt like wearing a new shirt, a new blanket being draped across his soul. He was in love with Cleo Halliwell and there was no denying it or taking it back.

Watching her smile, no, beam like that, knowing that he was the reason for it, it did something inside the man. He felt that champagne bubble feeling in his chest, happiness. “One more time. I need to hear it again. For posterity and legal reasons, you know how it goes.” Miles was joking; just because you’re in love, it doesn’t take away that fight from you. He would still bicker with Cleo about everything, still call her drinks ugly and hog bars just to annoy her. But then he could pull her into his arms and kiss her till she forgave him. Till Cleo smiled that beaming smile and everything was alright again. “Baby. You know….that’s an upgrade from Miles comma E. Are you falling for me, miss Halliwell?” There he went with the jokes again, and he wants to kiss that smile, let that happiness somehow seep into his own bones.

“You know there’s no other way I’d have it, Cleo. I’d rather have all of this, than a manufactured personality you make for me. Because I don’t want that. I want something real. Like us, right now.” Miles’s hand slid down from her cheek to her neck, gently brushing the sharp outline of her lower jaw, before leaning to kiss that plane. “I don’t know about soulmates, because I definitely flunked on Sunday school, but I’ll take your word for it. So long as you don’t mind having premarital sex and drinking?” Get it together, Miles. Her next few words definitely brought the fire in his loins, that latent longing coming back in the fullest of forces. “Yes ma’am. I will have nothing but the finest.”

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THE END.

#( ─ conversations. )#( ─ conversations ; miles ellis. )#milesawayellis #till the next thread :)))))

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