oliviasfm:
* 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆 , 𝒐. ﹕ 𝘧𝘵. 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚊 . ❜
this house was a plethora of memories. it was rainy saturday afternoons, down in the living room– when they’d spend too many wet august months, listening to music that was too loud for their own good. cameron would always pretend to hate it, but they’d catch him humming the lyrics down the hallway, or in the shower later that night— and she knew it was selfish to think that she was the only one who missed him. no, because cameron left behind a wake of people, everyone that met him, had seen a spark. he had countless girls, some of which were her friends, fawn over that sparkle in his eyes— but really, who wouldn’t? he left clara, who’s sadness didn’t come with a river of tears like olivia had. how she hadn’t cried for months, where it felt like liv had went on for days, like her sadness could fill up rivers, or the blue in her eyes. no, clara fumbled with a broken dish, and she’d pushed it all down until it came to a boiling point of frustration at a simple chore. he’d left coach, and a parent should never have to bury their child. he left a room untouched, and a truck still tucked under a tarp in the garage. he left a best friend— who hadn’t seen the inside of the sloane house, in what felt like years. a best friend, who used to crash on their couch, and that was always prepared for fourth of july fireworks. he’d left behind his sister, who fifth wheeled double dates— and a mountain of memories. so when clara needed her? even without the faintest hint of asking, or calling her, or texting her— she was there, standing in the spot that cameron would have, until she’s flopped on the bed– like olivia would have. “he’s right, you know-” brows scrunched, features recoiling just at the statement alone— because very seldom was he ever wrong, and he made sure those kids knew it. the blonde shifts on the mattress, taking one of the throw pillows, and whacking clara on the head with it. “why are you grade-a sulking right now?” dropping the weapon of choice down at her side, she sits up and tucks her knees under her. blue eyes are pinpointed on clara, but her gaze flickered to a frame sitting on the edge of a nightstand– and her heart sinks every time– nobody knew that was gonna’ be his last game. if she had, she would have made it go on a little bit longer. and sometimes, if she’s lucky— he still visits her in her dreams. but right now, she’s focused on clara, and the fact that she knew that the brunette only retreated home when something was bugging. “is this about pigs flyin’?” a waver of her hand, and she’s pointing to the window. “’cause i’ll go kick his ass, right now– you just say the word–” dramatic, and cued with a smirk, as she nudges the other’s shoulder.
.✫*ﾟ･ﾟº 𝐨 𝐥 𝐢 𝐯 𝐢 𝐚 .
“ sorry , are you AGREEING with coach right now ? ” clara peeked up from where her face was smushed into a pillow , “ what kind’a benedict arnold best friend treason are you trying to commit here ? ” she FLINCHED as down feather came barreling down on her , landing in a thwack on her head , and she had half a mind to retaliate with a firm shove off of her bed , but maverick was once again wiggled in between , nosing at her cheek and further ruffling up her hair . “ why is it a problem when i get sulky ? ” she huffed , flopping over onto her back and staring at the ceiling , “ i think i’ve earned the right to sulk every now and again . ” and she wasn’t . . . WRONG , per say . just as an air of sparking innocence had a tendency to follow clara around , so did the expectation of a BRIGHT and bubbly personality . it was her own fault , really , with the way she refused to be anything but that 90% of the time , but in her own home . . . her own room ? she wasn’t the type to get hung up on a boy . she dated here and there , had flings on occasion , even fell in love once or twice , but to let someone get under her skin so quickly . . . in the best kind’a way . . . it was unheard of . “ no , ” she answered promptly , rolling her eyes before changing her answer to reflect the truth , “ yeah . but the only ass kicking he’d be gettin’ is from me , thank you very much . ” she grumbled , rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling . as if it were routine , maverick shifted in his spot , resting his head on her stomach and nudging at her hands . “ not that he deserves it . i just kind’a let myself make a mess of things , i think , ” her lips pursed as her hands moved to mav’s ears , carefully running along his fur , “ i’ve never been good at the . . . real stuff , y’know ? when it gets more serious than hangin’ out or hookin’ up or . . . whatever . so i find somethin’ to muck it up before it can start . ” her chest heaves in a heavy sigh , and her head rolls to the side to look at the frames on her right . because she hadn’t missed it , the way olivia glanced over at them . ANYONE who entered her bedroom at home did . he was all over the walls , the only ghost among memories , in photographs and a framed jersey . “ i’ve sure got a way of putting my foot in my mouth . always have , i s’pose . cam was always better at this sort’a thing . i mean , sure , i’m outgoing . friendly . but he was just –– he knew people , y’know ? knew how to navigate this shit , ” her jaw clenches , and there’s a furrow in her brow as she stares at the photo , hard , and her voice cracks as she adds , “ i miss him . ” three words that were hardly uttered . because for CLARA , it wasn’t allowed . when the pain of missing her best friend reared its ugly head , she had to swallow it down before she threw it up . so she cleared her throat and glanced over at liv , feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude . because she was the one person who’d seen her in her most fragile states . . . and she stuck through it . “ i’m sorry , ” it’s a whisper , and she can’t hold that blue eyed gaze for much longer , so she focuses her eyes on the way maverick is drifting to sleep as she pets his ears , “ i’m sorry we don’t . . . talk about him like we should . ”
