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#nr.meme

ᴇʟʟᴇ.

The almost glacial gust of wind that had past Elle sent a shiver down her spine, despite being in a fur gilet. Pushing open the door to the cafe, she quickly brushed off whatever remnants of snowflakes that lay on her clothes before she took out her phone and taking a quick photo of the bustling cafe and its interiors before she went to the counter to order. “Just a croissant and mocha, please,” she requested, before glancing around her and it was then that she didn’t even notice the person behind her. “I really hope I didn’t skip you, I’m sorry,” Elle said, flashing pearly whites in a sincere smile. It was always a pet peeve of Elle’s to have some skip in line ahead of her, so she could only imagine the person behind her felt the same. “Let me make it up to you — I’ll buy whatever you’re buying. So, what’ll it be?” @northroxtonstart

Christian held up his hands in mock surrender. “Clearly, you’re a woman on a mission, and I couldn’t possibly stand in the way of woman and her coffee. I’ve heard war stories of men who’ve tried,” he chuckled, shoveling his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as she stepped closer to the counter. “Just a black coffee for me,” he told the barista before pulling out his wallet. “No chance in hell I’m letting you pay,” he told the nameless figure beside him, passing a bill over to the cashier. “For both orders,” he added.

As the two waited for their coffee, he made idle small talk. “New to North Roxton?” he questioned. It wasn’t that small of a town, but Christian had been around for the past three years and he was usually pretty good with faces.

#( elle | 01 )

ᴀsʜᴛᴏɴ.

There couldn’t of been a more perfect day for the resort to open, not with the fresh powder that lay over the trails or the sun shining high in the sky. It was days like this that drew the old snowboarder out from the trenches inside of herself. Even the crunch of the snow under her boots was appealing. As much as Ashton hated to admit it, today was a simply uncharacteristically good day. One, that seemed to only get better when an all too familiar voice caught her attention.

Emerald eyes turned onto him as a wry grin worked onto her features. If it were anyone else, Ash would of been embarrassed to admit that she could spot him effortlessly in the crowd even with the jacket that did nothing to show off his form. But the true amusement came with the fact that, while she was bundled up to brace the cold at the top of the mountain, he might not of even recognized her. Ashton pulled down the face mask that mimicked that of a skeleton, before pulling her hood off of the top of her head. The light winter breeze made blonde waves dance from underneath her beanie.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that. Little ol’ me wouldn’t be able to chop one of those big trees down and get it into my home on my own, you know?”, she questioned, not daring to hide the smirk on her features as she balanced the snowboard on her hip. “Aren’t you mixing a little business with pleasure discussing Christmas trees here today?”

There weren’t many people Christian actually cared to interact with. In fact, he hardly gave a damn about North Roxton at all. If not for Marco’s orders, he would have never chosen somewhere as cold as Northern Michigan, especially when he craved the heat of Texas and Mexico. But, Christian didn’t have a choice. He had been ordered to make North Roxton his home three years ago, and there was absolutely no end in sight. Not with the profits they were seeing.

Ashton was different though. There was an inexplicable pull between them, and he felt protective over the small, blonde. Ever since he had busted into her uncle’s vet clinic, pouring blood and needing stitches. The best way he could bring himself to describe her was as a complication, something he hadn’t expected and someone he dared not think about too often. Attachments were dangerous, and he couldn’t afford any more danger or mess than his life was already built upon.

And so, Christian did his best to steer clear of the woman. He had banned himself from Wayward West. He tried to avoid places he knew she’d be. Still, somehow, someway they found each other anyway. But, he’d half-expected to see her today. The entire town of North Roxton seemed to be milling about, in and outside the lodge.

Returning her grin rather easily, Christian closed the distance between the two. “Really? No one to help, hm? Dad, brothers? Your uncle could probably spare a few hours.” He was teasing, he realized, wanting to hear her say she wanted his help, and shook his head at himself before catching the woman’s emerald hues once more. “Something tells me little ole’ you is more capable than she seems,” he finally grinned, knocking his boot against her snowboard. “You’re right, I probably shouldn’t be talking about Evergreen today. What do you say we hit the slopes?”

Damn it, Christian, he cursed himself.

#( ashton | 01 )

ssweeneys

#( ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴏᴀᴅ ɪ ʀᴜɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʜᴀs ᴀ sᴜɴᴅᴏᴡɴ ; ᴍᴜsᴇ )

— @northroxtonstart

Christian thumbed over the bruised, cut knuckles of his right hand, slightly wincing as torn skin caught on his rough movement. Luckily, he could pass them off as part of the job — the one where he harvested Christmas trees at Evergreen Passage, and not the one where he smuggled drugs from across the Canadian border. It was the latter that caused his current situation, a shipment mishap that resulted in a physical altercation. One of many.

Finally, catching the eye of another, he shoved his hands into the pockets of the large black ski jacket covering his frame. “Damn tree nearly fell on me,” he shrugged, painting on an uncharacteristically friendly grin. “Have you been up to Evergreen to get one yet? I know it’s not even Thanksgiving, but the good ones go fast.” Christian had learned long ago that in order to do what he did successfully, he needed to blend in. He needed to be nothing more than the humble, maybe slightly mysterious, tree farmer.