Emira Temel is a Bradford Springs native who has just returned after being “let go” (see: very much fired) from her job at a prominent newspaper in New York. She is the older sister of Yasemin and is fiercely protective of her. When she’s not freelancing, she’s producing true crime podcast episodes, going for a swim to let off some steam or walking her Bernese Mountain Dog, Atlas. She’s intrepid but rash, tenacious (she'd say) and stubborn (most everyone else would say), a bit mercurial but empathetic and passionate when it counts. She’s been back in town since summer 2022 and is still getting her bearings. It’s been a while since she’s been in Bradford Springs but loves being near her family again.
CHARACTER BASICS.
full name: Emira Temel
gender & pronouns: Ciswoman & she/her
age & date of birth: 31, Dec 25, 1991
where do they live: Downtown
time living in bradford springs: Whole life minus a few years
inspo: pinterest // character parallels // apartment
BACKGROUND.
FULL BIO HERE.
(tw: autism diagnosis, bullying)
Oldest daughter of the Temel family, she grew up a precocious and daring child with a lot of love and even more will.
When Yasemin was born, Emira became her self-appointed protector and guardian, putting anyone who bullied her little sister in their place (often getting in trouble for it).
She may have subliminally resented all the attention Yasemin got growing up because she was determined to strike out on her own for a bit, to see who she was apart from her family and her sister specifically.
Emira went to college in New York City, pursuing degrees in journalism and polisci before getting a job at a prominent news organization.
She was there for several years before getting let go in winter 2022 due to crossing a line while pursuing a lead (apparently, it’s not okay to threaten public officials)
Returning back to Bradford Springs in Spring 2022, she’s been here since and is freelancing/working on her true crime podcast (murders, mystery and mac ‘n’ cheese) while enjoying a reset in close proximity to her family.
EXTRAS.
Has her BA in journalism from NYU and her MA in Political Science from Boston University (online).
The only sport she actually stuck with growing up was swimming and finds that she can think through stories or mental blocks when she’s in the water.
Grew up speaking English, Turkish, French (school, semi-fluent) and Cantonese (school, can listen and read, speaking is hard)
Is a bit of a geography nerd
Is currently crashing with Yasemin until she can sort out a place of her own
Has a Bernese Mountain dog named Atlas. She brings him to the hospital sometimes to cheer up patients, especially kids
Can’t keep a plant alive for the life of her, even succulents – she doesn’t know why!
Very much a don’t ask for permission, ask for forgiveness mentality.
Think Karen Page (DareDevil), Matt Lisko (Home Before Dark), Oh In-kyung (Little Women) vibes in terms of her persistence as a journalist!
Doesn’t like to talk about how she was let go but will defend her actions leading up to it until she’s blue in the face
Has a myriad of tattoos all over.
Definitely cuts her own bangs, especially when stressed, so results vary
CONNECTIONS.
CHILDHOOD FRIENDS (0/?): People she grew up with and who’ve always known her to be stubborn but good-natured
BOSTON FRIENDS (0/?): Friends she made living in the city, though they don’t necessarily have had to live there long-term. Possibly people who know she was fired to add some spice.
BEST FRIENDS (0/2): Besides her sister, the people who know her best and who she’d go to bat for no matter what
SWIM TEAM FRIENDS (0/?): Self-explanatory – friends from the crew in high school, maybe they meet at the local pool even now
ENEMIES! (0/?): Emira has a big personality that isn’t always everyone’s cup of tea. So maybe people who she upset growing up, possibly someone whose parents she wrote about in HS for the newspaper, possibly someone who just didn’t vibe.
FAVORITE BARTENDER (0/1): Every good journalist has a source and maybe this is someone who Emira talks to on a frequent basis, just to get the town tea
Naomi gently pats at her hair as Emira spilled the compliments, a little smug but playful smile tugged on her lips at the same time. “I wish these catch ups were a little more often if this is how you’re gonna keep starting them.” she laughed before sighing. “You’re only as old as you feel, I guess that’s what keeps me going.” she was a firm believer in it, and obviously the privileges she’s had in life certainly helped. “I think I will, maybe ambrosia will have a touch of Omi next time we come. Ambromia.” she winked as she bobbled her head back and forth knowing the joke would probably bring out some kind of smirk from her daughter.
“Oh I know, and you handled big old New York all by yourself so I don’t doubt it but what else am I gonna do with my time? You might have a kid of your own one day and you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s not worry worry, it’s just a constant, I hope they doing good.” she smiled but she could see Emira had all of the head strong attitude she was raised around. In fact, both the Temel girls embodied it and that was exactly why Naomi knew they’d always be okay. “I’ll make a little sign like Emira Made Us Do It.” she laughed before humming about Yas. “I’m happy too even if I’d prefer it if she didn’t like someone who broke windows but hey, everyone deserves their movie moment, I guess? I bet she was unhappy about having to stop streaming.” she laughed knowing her daughter’s routine well, since it hadn’t changed for years. “Good luck to him, in fact, good luck to anyone who can deal with the two of you. Especially together.”
•
Emira grins at her mom, “don’t get used to it, Omi,” she teases and takes a sip of her coffee. “But if that’s the case, I’ve been feeling a hundred and need to work on that,” she admits to her mom with a light smile. She hasn’t slept well the past few weeks but restlessness comes with the over-thinking territory and that is something Emira’s always excelled in. Analyzing and criticizing her own decisions in the wee hours of the morning. “But today I feel my age,” she winks at her mom and nods at the idea, a snicker escaping at the name. “I think they’d have twice the customers. They could even name a drink in your honor,” she laughs.
“Well, I am doing good, mama, promise,” she lies though it doesn’t feel like a lie because she wants it to be true and isn’t that half the battle? Emira can picture the sign clearly in her head and gives a nod of approval before her smile dims slightly and she sighs. “I know Yas can take care of herself. I just don’t want her to feel like...I don’t know. Like he’s special just because he’s had a hard life?” She sets her coffee down. “Does that sound horrible? She’s just so good, you know? And if she likes him because of him, cool but if she likes him because she thinks he needs someone to care about him...I just don’t want her to feel like she has to be that person if she doesn’t want to be?” she voices her concern to her mom, working through it aloud. She doesn’t dislike Ruben actually...she just wants to make sure Yas doesn’t get hurt. “But I think she thinks I don’t like him because I’m judging him.” She is, a bit, but deep down, she knows she has no ground to stand on in that department.
“I promise it would be a good episode, mom,” Emira insists as she walks beside Marika. “I could even have you vet the questions ahead of time and I never let anyone do that.” She grins at her mom and waggles a brow, trying to convince her to come on her podcast for an episode on the mysteries of space. “And you can add some actual scientific content when we talk about different sightings and things like that.” She hasn’t asked before but a few listeners had sent in about UFOs and she thought maybe her mom would be the perfect guest for an episode like that. “I had mama on to talk about mysterious haunted buildings in the south, remember? It’ll be fun. I promise.” And it’d be a good distraction for Emira who’s thrown herself head first into her work the past week or so. @marikaxtemel
“I know, but Lockwood Springs,” Jo playfully wrinkles her nose in distaste, following after Emira to wait for her own order. There was a reason why she was so desperate to run away from this place, as soon as she could, as fast and as far as she could. But standing in a coffee shop with her friend, it gives the faintest feeling of old times when they were both still relatively green and hopeful journalists ready to take on New York. It’s funny how quickly things can change. “Who would’ve thought we both would end up back here? I sure as hell didn’t,” Josephine pulls her purse higher up on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I would take expensive coffee and ridiculously high rent any day,” She says, and she means it wholeheartedly.
•
Emira doesn’t blame Josephine for her feelings towards Lockwood. If she’d come home under the same circumstances, she’d have felt the same. If every day waking up meant remember she’d left her favorite city because her husband had died...well, she’d probably look down on Lockwood with disdain too. Instead, Emira had found refuge in her home city, in her family. And it was a painful reminder sometimes that she hadn’t made it but being in a city that rejected her left and right hadn’t been a better option. “Well, I’m sure if you wanted to put that money in a tip jar, they wouldn’t complain,” she suggests before laughing slightly. Emira shrugs, “I didn’t either but, for what it’s worth, I’m glad to see you again, Jo. Apparently I talk too fast now.” She’d had to get a word in edgewise back at the Times, or risk getting ignored or walked all over. Turns out it hadn’t mattered in the end but still. Old habits die hard.
Yasemin quietly huffs, not particularly at her sister but more the topic. One thing about how her mind worked was pointing out injustices, or unfairness so Yas’ hand moved to her hip. “I am, and so are you which is why I’m not that mean about Danny.” she shrugged because she wasn’t welcoming either. Maybe Emira and Yas really were cut from the same cloth, even though she hated that phrase because why would anybody cut a cloth? “He’s quiet.” Yas then mentioned before she laughed, because she wasn’t used to being more energetic than somebody before. “Which is odd, I think he’s insecure. Which is also odd because doesn’t society say men who look like him are meant to be…what others want to be? Or something stupid like that. And his brother sounds awful, so I feel bad for him. I don’t think he knows what it’s like to have someone who cares.” Yas shrugged but she didn’t only like Ruben out of pity. She did as she was silently told to move to her seat and begin eating but she also didn’t believe Emira for one second. “I’ve never eaten those snacks, there’s only been one person who eats those snacks and it’s not any of us. Or Atlas. And I don’t even know Ruben’s favorite snacks yet. Oh wait no. He likes fruit loops at 9pm.”
•
Emira sighs, lifting her hands. “What would you like me to say? I don’t know him, Yas. And you’ve actually known Danny for years.” Even if they hadn’t been together, Yas would still know him. She listens to her sister talk, pulling apart some bread and dipping it into a yolk. Everything Yas is saying makes sense but Emira can’t help but feel protective over her. For so long she’d been her sister’s fiercest defender and now Yas was living her own life and making her own choices and it was hard to shake the role. “i just don’t want you thinking you’re going to...I don’t know, be the magical missing piece of his life.” She chews the inside of her cheek, hearing how it sounded and glances up at Yas, shaking her head.
“Sorry, I didn’t say that well. I just want you to remember what mama says. It’s not our job to fix people or change them.” And even if you want someone to change, they won’t. But she doesn’t say this and instead sighs at Yas’ insistence. It’s a very Temel trait not to let something go, so she can’t fault her sister’s curiosity. “We’re not doing that anymore.” That being whatever it was she and Danny had been doing. “He’s got a life and I’ve got mine and that’s it.” She shrugs, as though it’s nothing. As though she doesn’t feel a strange lump in her throat she continues to push down every time she thinks of it. She’d known what it was when they’d started sleeping together again, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t hoped. Even if she’d never admit as much to herself. Even as the weeks turned into months. It wasn’t anything anyway. “Fruit loops are a good choice,” she comments after a beat, “cinnamon toast crunch is better but...fruit loops aren’t bad.” As close to any approving comment as she’d get right now.
“Hmm, how can I say I want pickles dipped in Nutella without sounding gross?” Bella laughed, walking a lot slower than she used to be able to but getting out of her apartment was vital and she’d never pass spending time with Emira. She tried her best to not make an obvious scrunch of her nose at some of the suggestions before she couldn’t help the quick bleh at the sound of sushi and even veggie sushi. “Do you think DJ would whip up some sweet potatoes or something? Is that even on the menu at the diner?” Bella thought out loud but then wondered if she was being too choosy. “Actually, ramen is great.” she nodded, her final decision for now. “Aww, really? Even though I definitely missed Whitney’s high note the last few times?” Bella touched her chest as she laughed. “Hey maybe we should practice a duet and routine and not tell them, then surprise them with it.”
•
Emira makes a face, “I’m not sure you can but...I support your decisions? Maybe it’s like you can’t go wrong with two perfect ingredients? And what’s better than either of those.” she shrugs, letting Atlas bound ahead to the upper limits of his leash while they discussed lunch. “I don’t know if it’s on the menu but you can probably ask. Half of what you get is from a potato.” She doesn’t question her friend’s cravings and scratches her mind to see if there’s any other food options before Bella finally settles on Ramen and Emira narrows her eyes. “You sure you don’t want potatoes?” She doesn’t want her changing her mind because someone asked. “You know my moms love you, off-key notes and all. Let me know what days work for you both and I’ll ask Omi.”
“I know I should feel ripped off,” Emira says with a laugh as she tucks away her wallet after paying $4.23 for her coffee, “but I was getting close to six, seven dollars back in the city,” she admits, moving to the pick-up counter. “I don’t miss that part of New York living.” By comparison, Lockwood was like living in the lap of luxury but on a journalist’s (ex-journalist’s) salary. @josephine-atkinson
Some things are just too hard to shake. Their easy laughter remains, as it always does, mingled with breathless sighs and needy touches. The way his hands move over the soft curves of her body electrifies Emira and any doubts or second-guesses vanish as everything is tinged with a lust-filled haze. She can forget herself when she’s with him, forget who she’s trying to be and simply exist in the wave of want he stirs up in her. “Because if you’re talking, you’re not –” she gasps softly, back arching slightly as his teeth tug at her nipple and a rush of liquid heat shoots straight to her core, “doing that,” Emira breathes, finishing her thought as he rises to meet her lips again.
She wants to feel every part of him, wants to feel the rush that comes with knowing he needs her as much as she needs him right now. There’s a part of her that would roll her eyes at the thought but even now, limbs angled together, breaths mingling, heart pounding in a steady hum of elation, she knows it’s not like this with anyone else. That being with Danny has always been different. The way he’s memorized her body, the way his touch makes her toes curl and her back arch and her heart ache. Emira lets her legs fall open, breathing growing shallow as open-mouthed kisses consume her. And then he touches her and she knows he can feel the damp mess at the apex of her thighs. It’s a moment of blind desire and lust that fuels her, tangling one hand in his white blonde hair as the other snakes between them, “probably as bad,” she bites his lip, “as you wanna fuck me,” she utters against his mouth, toes curling at how hard he is when she wraps her fingers around him.
Heat pools in the pit of her stomach and her toes curl at the way his touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Desire overtakes logic, head clouded with nothing but thoughts of him and the hunger between them. Her breath hitches at the small sound emanating from him and she nips at his lips, the taste of movie theater popcorn mixed with cigarettes filling her senses. It easy to get lost in the moment, fingers curled at the nape of his neck and she only pulls away when he says she’s distracted. Hazel eyes narrow at him and she scrunches her nose in protest. “Can you just shut up?” Any eloquent comeback or smart-ass remark will have to wait when she’s not caught up in the haze of want he casts over her. There’s only one thing on her mind and it’s not cartoons. When he shifts them so she’s flush against him, Emira shivers, the hard planes of his torso pressed against the soft skin of her own. She shakes her head that, no, she’s not his and he’s not hers either, even if in this moment it feels like they belong to each other, like she could be his like she’d been years ago. “I said you’re an idiot. Get your ears checked,” she bluffs, lips pressed hard to his before trailing them along his jaw. She scrapes her teeth along his skin, the sharp bite of incisors tugging at his earlobe as he manages to carry them to her room. Somewhere in the distance, she hears the door shut and an indignant huff from Atlas on the other side of it.
Her bra slips off first and if he didn’t already know how eager she was for him, hardened peaks betray her. Emira is ever aware of the short rise and fall of her chest, the way his touch and gaze cause her breathing to grow shallow with anticipation as he undresses her. Shimming out of her jeans until only black lace remains, her own delft decorated fingers go for his pants. Tugging at them impatient, she scowls. “Danny. Hurry up.” His name is petulant on her lips as she pulls at his zipper, catching her lip between her teeth. Any subtly is lost because she knows he knows how much she wants him and she can see he wants her. Any hope of stopping the fire between them is long gone: the match is lit and she’s already burning.
“You’re just saying that ‘cause you have to.” Omi gave a playful laugh, getting comfortable right in the corner of the couch so she could angle herself to Emira. “That,” Naomi raised a finger to signal her point after he daughter spoke. “Is a good idea, my sweet. In fact, I could probably help them re-arrange all of this to get the optimal space.” she said, glancing around at the tables. The cogs were certainly turning and now Emira had possibly sealed their fate at this coffee shop, with Naomi asking who she needed to speak to before they could leave. “No, no. Of course not, but a little you time is always good. Helps with creative flow, too.” She wasn’t going to tell Emira how to structure her life but…it was hard to care and not seem overbearing. A difficult thing for any parent to balance. “It’s all going good, though?” she asked, eager to know her daughter was living life in a way that served her. Naomi let out another bright laugh, readjusting the end of her blouse as she considered it. “Maybe twenty years ago, but we’ll have to watch it to be sure. Who knows, you might see us both on T.V. Little Yas is okay? After the whole…stone?” Omi could barely keep a straight face, but it was hilarious.
•
“I’m really not,” Emira grins, “your energy says forty-five tops,” she adds good-naturedly. “Besides, even if you were old, which you’re not, you don’t dress like it.” Her mom is one of the most fashionable people Emira knows. While her own wardrobe leans monochromatic, she learned how to experiment with clothes from Omi. “You definitely could. I say go for it. Maybe grab a business card when we leave.” She admires a lot about her mom but her tenacity and forceful spirit are some of the things she tries to emulate most.
“Yeah, it’s all good. You don’t have to worry about me, Mama.” Despite the subtle, unwelcome ache in her chest, Emira seeks to reassure her mothers and sister that she’s fine. Because she is. Because she’s not even sad about...him. Because that would be stupid and foolish to have let her heart get tangled up in a web she’s already broken free of. And Emira is too smart for that. Emira takes a sip of her coffee and grins at the thought of her moms on the show. “Just remember it was my idea when. you win season five hundred and something. Yas is fine. She’s just, you know, into him I guess. I’m happy she’s happy.” It’s the closest she can get right now since she doesn’t really think Ruben is the best choice but also knows saying as much wouldn’t be productive in the least. “Big John reached out and said he can come on Monday to fix it.”
“Rookie mistake.” she teased Emira with a wide grin and a chuckle, taking a few sips of her own smoothie. Yas wasn’t the best at reading awkward silences, or when people were pausing to think but she knew her sister well. Emira liked to keep her opinions to herself, mostly, especially if she thought they might upset her sister. So, Yas took an elongated sigh. “He’s not a bad person.” she said, not a mind-reader but a pattern noticer. “He’s worked at the post office for a while now, so I know him for more than just..four dates.” Yas shrugged, as if that would make it any better. She ended up laughing though at Emira’s coyness, pointing to the snacks as if the answer was right there. “Well, Owl Temel.” she started with a grin. “There’s finally no beef jerky or twizzlers here.” Not that she had been praying for the downfall of whatever Danny and Emira…weren’t. But she definitely disliked him. Which proved that stubbornness and hypocrisy ran in the family.
•
Emira sticks out her tongue at her sister, a warm smile following as she finishes up the dish. Turning off the stove, she reached up to grab some plates and listens as Yasemin explains about Ruben. “I didn’t say anything, Yas,” she holds up her hands, shrugging, “you’re an adult.” Even though she feels incredibly protective over her sister, she’s never tried to suffocate her. She’s proud of Yas for making her own way in the world, of course she is, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t worry or have thoughts, or wouldn’t be there to comfort her if things went sideways. “I’m sure he’s fine. We haven’t really talked.” Though she doubts talking will win her over. She doesn’t dislike Ruben. She doesn’t know him. She just thinks her sister can do better than a guy who throws rocks through windows. Rolling her eyes at the moniker, she plates up for the both of them, bringing them to the kitchen table. “They’re not exactly healthy snacks. I’m swimming more now that it’s getting warmer.” she explains, as though that’s the only reason. “If you want them, though, I’ll be sure to grab some next time.” Emira offers casually, gesturing at her sister to take a seat and dig in.
“You can’t fight it, you can’t breathe
You say somethin’ so lovin’, but
Now I gotta let you go
You’ll be better off in someone new
I don’t wanna be alone
You know it hurts me too
You look so broken when you cry
One more and then I’ll say goodbye”
Emira’s retort is cut off by a hard kiss that she melts into easily, frustratingly so. She feels too pliable in his arms and she fights the feeling of being soft, hot breaths mingling as she kisses him back with just as much ferocity. Hunger and desire go hand in hand and Emira has always hated that he knows how much she desires his touch, the type of unsatisfied longing that means her body reacts of its own accord when he presses his hips down into hers. Her own rock in response as she seeks the friction from his jeans against the soft material of her own. When he pulls away, her brows narrow in protest, eyes alight with want as he looks down at her with his own hazy blue-eyed gaze. Distracted by his warm hands beneath her shirt, Emira nods haphazardly, “fine,” comes her breathless response, arching slightly into his touch as goosebumps form where he’s dragging his fingers, “lets just,” her own hands drift beneath the hem of his moms against vaping t-shirt and over his abs, “watch reruns.” As if it’s an actual option they’ll go for.
But they can’t stop. And that’s the problem – they never can where the other’s concerned. Maybe this time they will. Maybe this time they’ll let this be what it was always meant to be – a fun time followed by an easy goodbye. His response is quick, mouth on her neck and she gasps softly in approval when she feels teeth tugging at flesh. Emira is tugging off her shirt in a matter of moments, black lace bra contrasting soft tattooed skin beneath. “Yours” Emira utters in an incomplete sentence, biting her lip as he works his mouth along her throat. She pulls at his shirt impatiently and wraps her legs around his waist more securely, seeking the thrill of his weight bearing down on her.
Greeting her sister with a big smile, Yas rubbed her hands together as she got to the kitchen. “Urgh yes please, it smells so good.” she sniffed the air and then sat up onto the counter to grab the smoothie. Yas smiled immediately, feeling that the coldness had settled and she looked at Emira. “Thank you.” she said, more than just a thanks for the smoothie itself. From the counter she could see the hole in the window which Omi had covered with protective sheeting until it could get fixed and Yas started laughing. “No, no, çilbir is perfect.” she replied before gesturing her head to the window. “He could’ve waited until it was warmer so we had free AC.” she uttered, jumping down from the counter with excitement to take a look at all the snacks. She quickly put them all in order from the unhealthiest to the healthiest, lining them up. “You’re the best.” she grinned, before noticing the lack of snacks Emira would usually get if Danny was staying over. Curious. “Is he busy?” she blurted out but she didn’t know a universe in which Danny Anderson could have something important to do.
•
Emira nods, sorting some plates while things cooked on the stove. “You’re welcome. I got too excited and got brain freeze,” she laughs, indicating her half-drunk smoothie beside the fruit bowl on the counter. She’s always thinking of her sister, unable to shut off that part of her that cares too much, even if she does her best to play it off. The mention of the window tests this resolve as she presses her lips together, shrugging. “Well at least he’s paying to fix it. That’s something.” Even though they could’ve handled it just fine it annoys Emira. Mostly because she doesn’t think this guy is good enough for her sister but also because she knows she has no ground to stand on. Well...had. At least now she’s not being hypocritical in her judgement? So that’s a silver lining. As she returns her attention to the cilbir, Emira raises a brow, glancing back at Yas and the neat line of snacks. “Who?” Like she hasn’t only been seeing the same person the past few months, unofficially of course.
at: ambrosia, after securing the couch table
@emiraxtemel
-
Omi had a gentle way of getting things to go how she wanted. After a young couple beat them to the couches, she approached them regardless with her hand softly on Emira’s shoulder. She proclaimed her daughter was just back from New York City, they hadn’t had time to see one another and they were exhausted from the journey back from the airport. It absolutely was a lie which also homed a few truths and they got the couches to themselves and Omi was proud to get comfortable. “Sometimes a little smile can go a long way.” she smirked to her daughter, resting the coffee tray down. “You know, I don’t know why coffee places don’t have more than two couch tables. Because once an old lady sits in one of them it’s out for the count.” Naomi nodded over to the other one, where in fact an older lady was sat all by herself occupying it. Then Omi laughed. “Wait, I guess that’s me these days. The prophecy has been fulfilled!” she said gallantly. “Anyways, I heard your new episode, baby. Loved it. How do you find all this stuff? I hope you make sure to unwind and clear out that negative energy, always thinking about murder.”
It had been a stretch to say she’d just gotten back but Emira doesn’t point this out as her mom coerces the couple rom the couch. “I don’t think anyone would ever call you old, Mama,” she says with a grin, taking the seat beside her mother, one leg tucked under the other. “But I agree. It’s like the hunger games to get these. I’m sure you could convince the manager to invest in at least one more.” If Naomi Temel is one thing, it’s persuasive. Emira can only hope to be half as convincing as her mom on a good day. She visibly brightens at the mention of her mother listening to her podcast and leans back in her seat, shrugging as she wraps decorated fingers around her mug of coffee. “Well, they’re not always about murder, sometimes they’re about mysteries,” that most speculated ended in murder, “or schemes or things like that,” she explains, though she knows what her mom’s getting at. She’s thrown herself into work these past two weeks, unwilling and unable to think about the way her chest feels tighter and her shoulders heavier with regret. And maybe sadness, though she’ll never admit as much to herself, much less her mother. “Yas and I have been watching that Amazing Race show. I still think you and mom should apply. You’d probably win.”
Ruben should have known better than to finally agree for Nixon to take his car because now he was stranded. His house keys with his brother too and his wallet on the passenger seat because like a dumbass he trusted Nix would keep his word to get him from the fight. He had enough cash to get to Downtown but the walk to Southside was proving too much. It wasn’t weird to show up to the girl’s apartment that you went on a few dates with? Four now? Early days. But he remembered Yasemin saying she never answered to the buzzer, so Ruben, like a dumbass threw the first stone he picked up…a little bit too harshly as the window smashed upon impact. Just a perfect stone sized hole where the glass used to be. “Shit.” he stood there like an idiot, people watching in the street like they were witnessing the worst breaking and entering ever. “Yas, it’s me. I’m sorry, I was just trying to do…I don’t know, the cute shit they do in movies.” he called out, hoping she was home. “I’ll pay for that.”
Emira isn’t one to judge (openly) but she’s has no qualms about it now. Atlas is barking like crazy at something in the living room but her sister’s in her room so Emira goes to inspect and attempt to leash her overgrown dog. She walks in just in time to witness the window shattering. “Fuck!” Emira jumps as Atlas yelps and she stomps across the room, glass crunching underfoot to give whomever it was a piece of her mind. She feels justified in all the judgment she’s reserved for Ruben Gray when she leans out the window. “What the fuck, dude?” What an absolute idiot. “Yas, that guy’s here!” she calls over her shoulder to her sister (full well knowing his name) before turning and giving Ruben a scathing look. “You’re missing your fucking boom box.” And with that, she turns, ushering Atlas away from the room and mumbling a “be careful with the glass” to Yas as she passes her sister. When she exits the walk up and sees Ruben still there, she tugs Atlas away with a narrow-eyed gaze. “We’ll send you an invoice.” @yaseminxtemel
