beautiful bad.

I'm no sweet dream, but I'm a hell of a night. i want to be like w a t e r i want to slip through fingers but hold up a ship.

[emmycahillarchive]

oliviapcrter‌:

The last thing Liv remembered before the inevitable crash were the headlights drawing nearer and nearer until her vision went black. She wasn’t entirely sure how it happened or when it happened just that it did. One minute they were all huddled together, on their way to Charlotte and the next – they were ripped apart, left searching for each other amidst the torrential downpour. It took Olivia a good few seconds (in reality) to come to, although in her mind it was much longer. The adrenaline was a pretty effective bandaid as she limped away from the smoking car and potent stench of gasoline. The sensible side of her was worried the car might blow, which was cause enough for her to distance herself before she started calling out her friends names, hoping they’d ‘marco-polo’ her back. But, instead there was nothing but radio silence and eerie winds. Both sounds pierced her ears and made them ring. 

In her panicked haste to find her missing friends, Olivia stumbled upon Marcus. He needed her help until professional hands had managed to grace him more promising reprieve. She did her best to keep him alive and as far as she could tell, she succeeded. Although, whether her inexperienced efforts were enough would still be up for debate.

Once Markus was fully recovered and rolled off on a gurney, Olivia snuck away. Physically unable to board the awaiting bus without the people who came with her. Thus, she carried on her search and by fate or gravitational pull, bumped into Emmy. “Jesus Christ–” Olivia cursed thy lord and savior’s name. She was so happy Emmy was simply there that even though there was no time to react and they had more pressing matters, she couldn’t help but fling her arms around her in an attempt to ensure she was real and not just a figment of her overworked imagination. She was real. And so was Noodle by her side. “Where’s Jaime?” Liv screamed over the sound of mother nature hurling chaos all around them. @emmycahill​

There was a tightness in Emmy’s chest, her breathing ragged. Again and again, she screamed their names, the sound mostly lost to the rain and wind. She clutched to Noodle’s leash as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the ground. She’d only felt this hopeless one other time in her life and the memories were zeroing in on her. She could feel them as if they nipped at her heels and her feet pounded harder against the ground, moving faster and faster as she screamed their names so loud her voice had grown hoarse. 

And then... Liv. Emmy’s stomach swooped, a half-second of disbelief before Liv was in her arms. Emmy didn’t recoil as she might normally, instead she clutched Liv back, a relieved sob lodged in her throat. She was safe and she was alive. The relief lasted only a moment before Liv asked the question and her stomach plummeted. “You haven’t seen him?” Dread filled her lungs on an inhale and she scanned the area wildly again. He had to be okay. She would never forgive herself if he wasn’t. She’d been so horrible to him and he’d been there for her when no one else was. 

He had to be okay.

Her feet hit the ground without direction, keeping Liv close by her side. “Jaime!” she called into the night. She shivered though she couldn’t feel the cold and had to tug against Noodle’s leash to get him to stop pulling her. He tugged back. She whipped her head to him, her fear was funneled into frustration as she looked at Noodle, mouth open to ask him what his deal was, when she saw his rigid body, the way he looked with intent to somewhere she couldn’t see. She was moving on pure instinct, tugging Liv along with her as she let Noodle lead the way. She had no other options at this point but to trust him, to hope that her trust was not misplaced.

The shape of a rain-soaked figure came into view, Noodle’s whines reaching her ears despite the way her heart beat so loudly in her ears it seemed to drown out everything else. Her legs moved even though her brain was stuck in shocked panic and she was suddenly looming above him. Jaime.

She fell to her knees, a choked out sob that sounded like his name tearing from her throat. “Jaime! Jaime, can you hear me? Oh god. Please open your eyes. Jaime? Please.” @jamesoncastello​

[sookiestjames-moved]

[oliviapcrterarchive]

@emmycahill

[emmycahillarchive]

markusroman‌:

Markus never understood how fast your life could flash before your eyes until he was faced with death only a few hours prior. Everyone in his life–Grayson, his friends, even his parents, anyone he had come across in life, they all flashed in a series of pictures. Faces he thought he would never see again. He hated hospitals, despite how much Grayson was around them. He hated the cold, stale air. He hated the rhythmic beep of the machine that helped keep track of his pulse and oxygen levels–it was just a reminder of how weak he was right now.

He had fallen in and out of sleep several times since Grayson had came and went. He wasn’t tired, but his body felt drained off any and all energy he once had. The pain medication was keeping him subdued and out of it, more so than the injuries had. But, he does stir when he feels a presence. More specifically, Emmy. He doesn’t realize her yet, but he can feel himself waking again. Why was she even here? She hated him. Didn’t she?

When he wakes, he finds her sitting in the chair that Grayson had been seated only an hour before. She looked sad, upset–but it couldn’t be for him. “Emmy?” He asks, eyes peaking open under the florescent lights. “What are you doing here?” It doesn’t come out harsh, his tone of voice is curious. He’s lost, he doesn’t have any clue why she would be here.

Emmy was struck first with the desire to run. She was uncomfortably close to vulnerability and as far as a list of people she’d allow to see her in such a state was concerned, Markus didn’t even make the cut. But something had led her here and something was keeping her here now. Why was she there? “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. Her eyes, which had been on the thin hospital-issued mattress, flicked up to him. Her voice was low, cracked, and exhausted. “I don’t know.” 

She lapsed into a moment of silence, her eyes traveling to the parts of him she could see, assessing the damage, imaging all the ways he might have gotten each cut and bruise. Her eyes stung with sudden, hot tears and she blinked down to her lap. It felt safer here, she could pretend she was talking to his sleeping form, pretend she wasn’t talking to him at all. “I don’t want to hate you anymore. It’s-- it’s fucking exhausting. I don’t trust you. But I love Grayson.” Something about that love gave her the courage to look up at him. Her heart beat a little faster, feeling exposed like a wild animal backed into a corner. But the honesty felt so unburdening that she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. “And he loves you.” Her gaze fell to her lap again, her courage spent. “And a fucking storm can show up tomorrow and take us all out-- just sweep us away like dust. So what’s the point? What’s the point in being mad all the time? Of holding onto all this shit? And for what? Whatever this is--” She looked up again, her expression harder now than it was before. “--I’m done. Just... don’t take his love for granted. Hold onto him because he’s the best fucking thing in both our lives. Got it?”

[emmycahillarchive]

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery And I can wish all I want, but it won't bring us together Plus I know whatever happens to me I know it's for the better

[emmycahillarchive]

grayfischer‌:

   Though the name meant nothing to Grayson, he could put two and two together easily enough to deduce what had happened, or at least a vague concept of the accident. His primary concern was her - if she was okay, physically. Mentally and emotionally, Grayson’s question was already answered. It felt like Emmy couldn’t catch a break, honestly; and his own tears were for her, too. His arms stayed strong and steady around her, despite the way he wet her hair with his face, cheek resting on the top of her head as they stood there captivated in a private moment amidst the chaos of the hospital halls. 

   “Not your fault. It’s not,” Gray promised hoarsely, but he wondered if it would do any good. He, too, battled intense guilt of his own - Markus said he was on his way to see him. The accident happened because of their fight; Gray’s hurtful words. Emmy’s situation was much different, but like always, there was a deep understanding between them, one that words didn’t need to define. After a long moment of crying into each other, Gray’s shaky, frail voice whispered out; “Markus, too. He was hurt in the crash, too.”

Her knees threatened to buckle. If it hadn’t been for his arms around her, they might have. She clung to him, gulping air greedily as if she hadn’t breathed until this moment. She felt like she hadn’t. Her hysteria was beginning to burn away to exhaustion, that hollow, heavy feeling sneaking back in.

His words, though well-intentioned, meant nothing to her. She knew the part she’d played in this. His face was ingrained in her memory, his broken words, his sounds of pain. She shut her eyes tight in a desperate attempt to banish them, to give her a moment of peace to breathe. It took Grayson’s words to finally capture her attention, pulling her face away from his chest to look at him, eyebrows pulling together in alarm. Taking him in now, she saw what she hadn’t before: his eyes were wild, he looked tired and scared and distracted. “Markus?” She didn’t need the clarification but repeating his name seemed to help bring a little more reality to the situation. Her fingers grasped the fabric of his scrubs anew. Worry for Grayson and, perhaps surprisingly, worry for Markus overriding her own incapacitating guilt. “Is he okay?”

[emmycahillarchive]

jamesoncastello‌:

oliviapcrter‌:

A laugh bristled inside of Liv’s throat, threatening to spill from her lips. Jaime had a way of turning the most dire circumstances into mere, unfortunate events. For the briefest of seconds, Olivia could forget all about the raging storm. And the fact that she hasn’t heard from her dad, much less Romeo. That was until Emmy’s question surfaced. Not that Olivia had faulted her for it. She was appreciative of her friend’s concern. “Uh…” Upon sneaking a quick glance at her phone, Liv realized she still had only one bar to work with. Which wasn’t enough to send a successful text, let alone load google maps. The last few attempts she made were total failures.  “Not since we left. I figured I’d try again once we got closer to Charlotte.” Speaking of – as soon as Olivia’s gaze flickered from her mobile phone back to the road, she noticed something up ahead. A headlight waning in the distance, struggling to stay lit amidst the pelting rain and hail. “What is that–Emmy! Lookout!”  @jamesoncastello​

   If you were to ask Jaime what happened later, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. All memory of the crash would be lost forever to him, leaning forward on his elbows pressed into his knees when control of the car was lost. He was going to put the seat-belt back on, satisfied with his joke, but first, Jaime pulled out his phone to dutifully check his cell service when he heard Liv’s shout. In just enough time to look up, Jaime felt the car hurl sideways as it swerved to narrowly avoid missing a collision that appeared suddenly in the rain; but unfortunately, as he was thrown in one direction, something hit the car in the other. In the backseat, Jaime was tossed from one side to the other, and as the weight of his body hurled into the car door, it broke…

   Sending him flying out of the vehicle while it continued to careen ahead, eventually crashing. The feeling of asphalt scraping his back and side was the first sensation that overtook Jaime’s senses, followed by the cold, heavy rain. Then, it was darkness as he tumbled and rolled from the momentum of the car. Somehow, in his state, he managed to drag himself up on his elbows, dragging himself just barely out of harms way of the road and tumbling down the gentle slope of the road. It would be there he’d remain, half curled up against the pain. 

    “H-h… help,” Jaime gasped, barely managed to squeak out the words into the dark, stormy skies through the crippling pain surging through his body. Turning his head hurt, but he did his best, trying to see if he could spot any movement or sounds of nearby people - but the world was silent other than a sharp ringing in his ears, the painful drum of his heart thundering against his aching chest. “Fuck.” He was alone… and with that, Jaime slipped into a state of shock and partial consciousness. @emmycahill​

In the days to come, the sequence of events would never fit quite right in Emmy’s head. She’d barely heard Liv’s voice ring out in panic before she saw the cars. She jerked the wheel hard to the left to avoid it, setting off a sequence of events she’d likely always blame herself for. The slick road sent the car careening towards the barrier and she overcorrected, jerking them from side to side as she slammed on the brakes. A sudden impact, the sound of metal against metal sharp in her ears-- a sound she knew she’d never forget-- and glass rained down around them like the storm raging above. Her world went dark.

She found herself suddenly standing in the middle of the road, soaked through to the bone, hazard lights blinking furiously around her. Her arms were folded tightly around her small frame and she was shivering, though she realized with a sort of disconnect that she didn’t feel cold. She didn’t feel much of anything. Mostly, she felt confused, blinking against the rain to the scene surrounding her. And it all came back at once. Her head swung around wildly, her gaze landing on her car-- one of many in a disastrous pile-up-- dark smoke billowing from the engine. Her stomach bottomed out and she thought she might be sick. Hot tears blurred her vision. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” she whispered desperately to herself as she ran towards the car. “Noodle! Jaime! Liv!” She called out each name in succession, her voice breaking, the rain pelting her from above as she ran. She called their names again and again, reaching her car and peering almost cautiously inside. 

Noodle’s head popped up from the spot he’d been tucked in the back and she fell to her knees with a loud sob. He was at her side in an instant and she buried her face in his fur as she cried, holding onto him as if he might very well disappear at any moment. She knew without needing to look inside again that Liv and Jaime were both gone. She gathered herself together, standing on shaking legs as she moved them both away from the car. Noodle limped slightly beside her as she frantically searched for the faces of her friends. “Jaime! Liv!” Her fingers curled into Noodle’s hair, an anchor to sanity she desperately needed. “Please be okay.” @oliviapcrter​

[sqdlust]

“take me back to the night we met”

[grayfischer]

Location: Charlotte, NC - Hospital Date & Time: March 13th, early evening  Triggers: car accident, injury, ptsd, death  Status: closed for @emmycahill​

  Stable. Markus was stable, but Grayson still couldn’t get the image of him hooked up to machines, covered in bandages, looking so tiny out of his mind. It haunted him, mixing in with other memories from years ago… the car accident that had taken his dad, injuring his mom and sister. He remembered all too well the feel of waiting room chairs, heart-aching harder than his legs sitting by the hospital beds. There was no way he could sit there now, so Grayson slipped from Markus room, walking down the hall feeling numb. His hands shook, shoved in his pockets deeply. 

    And then - he saw her. Emmy, looking just as ghostly pale as he knew he must look, appearing at the end of the hall like an apparition. Grayson hadn’t checked his phone since he answered the call - that call, about Markus, but the last he’d checked, Emmy was headed to Charlotte to evacuate. Headed to him. She made it, clearly, and in relief, Grayson started to walk faster… but as he got closer, he noticed things.

   She was hurt, yes, but there was a terror and darkness in her eyes. Like something horrible had happened. And then it hit him - was she part of the same crash as Markus? “Emmy!” He yelled, running the last few steps between them, grabbing her in a hug as soon as he got close. Grayson was crying already by the time his arms wrapped around her smaller frame, his heart racing. “Oh, God. Oh, God, Emmy, are you okay?” 

[emmycahillarchive]

Emmy was soaked to the bone. Her shoes were waterlogged, her hair a wet mat on her head. She felt everything just as surely as she felt nothing at all. A numbness had settled in, a hollowness behind her eyes. The well had run dry; she had nothing left to give, nothing left to do but wait. Wait, and replay the same moments over and over again in her mind. Jaime had to be okay. If he wasn’t, she would never forgive herself. She would--

Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Grayson. It was like some kind of gravitational pull that even in a hallway full of frantic bodies, her eyes found his immediately. Something inside her broke the moment their eyes met. A dam inside her burst, the reality crashing in like a tidal wave. She breathed out a single choked off sob before her feet hit the tile. She ran at him, flinging herself into his arms, clutching him as if she feared he might be swept away at any moment. She shook in his hold, head buried in his chest, absorbing his warmth, his smell, his safety. She didn’t acknowledge his question, babbling incoherently against him. “Jaime--” The word broke off into a shuddering breath, the last image of him in her mind the only one she could see now. “I told him to wear his fucking seatbelt!” Her hands grabbed fistfuls of fabric as she cried into his chest. “I was driving. It’s my fault. It’s my fault.”

[emmycahillarchive]

WHERE: a hospital in charlotte WHO: @markusroman​ & emmy.

Emmy drifted through the hallways of the hospital like a ghost. Her arms wrapped around her middle, so physically and emotionally drained that everything had taken on a sort of surreal feeling. She was waiting around to hear about Jaime, waiting to catch glimpses of Grayson, waiting for the storm to pass. Just... waiting. Idle time was eating her alive, her mind straying to the sound of scraping metal and breaking glass, of screeching tires and screaming. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but she found herself standing in front of Markus’ room. Maybe it was the mental exhaustion or some kind of divine intervention, some grand reminder of mortality to shift perspective, but she stared at the doorway for a long moment before she finally decided to slip inside.

She was met with the sound of machines and she nearly froze in place. She hated hospitals. Now more than ever, maybe. And though she’d never seen eye to eye with the man currently sleeping in the hospital bed, she realized, with a crack in her heart, that she hated seeing him lying there. 

There was a chair pulled up by the bed and she could imagine the time Grayson had spent there, his own mind tearing him apart. She took a seat there now, eyes roaming over Markus-- his cuts and bruises and wires-- and swallowed thickly. She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it, leaning back in her chair to wait until he woke up on his own. She didn’t even have any idea what she was going to say to him, anyway, or what she was even doing here in the first place. Surely, she’d find a way to ruin this as well. But the machines beeped steadily around them and Emmy decided to stay. 

[jamesoncastello]

Status: closed for @emmycahill​ & @oliviapcrter​ Time & Date: March 12th, evening

   Until a couple of hours ago, Jaime really didn’t see much cause for concern when it came to evacuating. His apartment downtown he shared with Sirena seemed plenty safe, and he had dealt with some stormy weather in Oakland, but as the conditions got worse… he became worried. Unwilling to leave when it was Carmen’s birthday, Jaime put it off until a text from Emmy felt like fate. Before long, he was situated in her backseat, headed to Charlotte, and cracking jokes to make her and Liv laugh in the front seat. 

   It didn’t take long for the heavy rain pelting the little car to drown out his voice. With each mile they progressed, the storm raged worse, until even Jaime was feeling a little worried. He wouldn’t show it, though, unbuckling his seat belt to lean forward a little to be heard over the raging winds and rains. “Damn, this storm is like having sex with a stranger. You never know how many inches you’re gonna get, or how long it’ll last,” Jaime spoke loudly over the storm, hoping to lighten the palpable tension in the car. Perhaps a little… poorly worded, given his initial meeting with Emmy, but he chuckled at himself anyway. 

[emmycahillarchive]

Emmy’s fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Rain pelted the windshield and despite the frantic speed of her windshield wipers, panic had settled deep within her chest, curling around her ribcage like ivy where it clung with desperate fingers. With Liv in the passenger seat, Jaime in the back, and Noodle curled up on the floor somewhere at his feet, the responsibility of getting them to safety only tightened the grip panic had on her heart. 

Her eyes slid to Jaime’s in the rearview mirror with a knowing look and narrowed eyes. She pressed her lips tightly together to hide the small half-smile. “Put your seatbelt back on,” was all she had to say about that. 

Hazard lights became her lighthouse, leading them to safety from the storm. “Would’ve been nice if they’d put us under a mandatory evacuation before shit started to get crazy.” Emmy’s eyes trailed momentarily to her phone, the GPS signal still lost. It’d been that way for nearly ten minutes now and at this point, she feared it might stay that way. “Anyone else having any luck with maps?” She glanced over at Liv before her eyes were back on the road again. “Have you heard from your dad?”

[emmycahillarchive]

WHERE: the beach house WHO: @oliviapcrter​ & emmy.

Everyone seemed to be in some state of panic about the looming hurricane, but Emmy had lived in this coastal town her entire life. She knew hurricanes were unpredictable and more often than not, seemed to shift direction or lose intensity before they ever made landfall. The news liked to hype these things, to instill fear in the people, send them out to stock up on canned goods and toilet paper as if preparing themselves for the fucking apocalypse. It felt stupid to harp on the what-ifs when her own storm raged so violently inside. Winnie was gone and he’d taken the sunshine with him. So the moody gray sky felt like a comfort to her rather than a forewarning.

“Will you hand me that plank?” Emmy asked Liv, a nail between her teeth, hand outstretched. She’d taken it upon herself to board up the windows, enlisting Liv as her helper since, between Markus and his new old job, Grayson had been a bit distracted lately. It felt like overkill, but Grayson was proud of his home, proud of the fact that it was his, and if she could do something-- anything-- to help keep that safe, she would. She hammered the wood into place, finding it almost cathartic as she beat nail into submission, the loud banging filling her ears. She stepped back to admire the window now completely obscured by wood and folded her arms across her chest. “I think I like it better this way. Sends the right kind of message.” She grinned, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and looked over at Liv. “We doing your house next?”

[emmycahillarchive]

carmenpts‌:

Carmen had to stop for a moment to understand that the other girl was actually being serious. That she genuinely lived in a place like Wilmington, of all places, but thought that because Carmen had money she was immediately a terrible person. She would have genuinely preferred it if Emmy had confessed that she was angry because she had feelings for Jaime, heck, even if she felt threatened by what Carmen and Winnie had but it somehow made it all that more hurtful that she would genuinely choose to hate her over something that she completely made up her mind about with no value added to her weird theory about Carmen. 

“You don’t know anything about me, I can’t believe I have to reiterate that to you because you’ve made your mind up about how to feel towards me.” She sighed, fully in her heart all she could do was feel bad for Emmy. “I am so sorry that you for some reason think you have to spend the rest of your life feeling bad for yourself and thinking that no one has a problem except for you. If that helps you get along in life then by all means but I think that you yourself know how pathetic that is.” Carmen tried to keep her voice low, the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene during such an important moment for Grayson. 

“Yes, you’re right. My life? It’s perfect. I don’t wake up almost every night from nightmares about my dead parents, who happened to die while I was with them, by the way. I definitely don’t spend the other half of my time thinking about how once my grandpa dies I’ll be completely alone in life.” Carmen swallowed, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “No, I just wake up and my hair is perfect and you know what? I don’t even have wardrobe malfunctions because I can afford to buy actual quality clothes. So, that’s like, very far from any of my problems, don’t worry.” As she spoke the final words, a dry laugh left her mouth. 

She knew that she had to leave then, to keep herself from bursting at the seams more publicly than she already had. “Stop using me as a ridiculous excuse because you feel shitty about yourself. I’m not a bad person and no matter how much you try to make me one in your head, it isn’t going to make me be so. Maybe you’re the idealistic one here.” Before truly waiting for the other to respond, the brunette turned on her heels, already close enough to the door that she simply slipped out and headed towards her car. 

Emmy’s cheeks stung as if she’d been slapped. Carmen hadn’t shied away from her sharpened words the way Emmy had expected her to, so she could only stand there, mouth slightly agape, the party drowned out to white noise and the sound of her own heart beating loudly in her ears. She felt stripped bare under Carmen’s words. Ashamed even. She folded her arms tightly across her chest as Carmen laid out her reality and Emmy wished for nothing more than to melt between the cracks in the floor. 

Those once-impenetrable walls, fortified with barbed wire and jagged edges, failed her now as every word from Carmen’s mouth lanced through her. For the first time in what felt like a very long time, Emmy found true regret in her own actions. She couldn’t write them off, explain them away, brush them under the rug of childhood trauma. Because Carmen was right. 

And there was hardly anything Emmy hated more than that fact. 

She found herself only expelling a breath as Carmen disappeared among the crowd and then through the door, Emmy’s eyes burning with the sudden pressing threat of hot tears. The sounds of the party returned to her with a deafening roar and she looked around wildly as if she could feel every eye in the room on her skin. She swallowed down a lump in her throat, stomping her way in the opposite direction towards her room and slammed the door behind her, the darkness and guilt engulfing her as the sound of the party raged on undisturbed on the other side.

[ THE END ]

[emmycahillarchive]

rhysxcalvin‌:

Rhys let his hands rest against the bar, tilting his head at her as he watched her take the shot down in one swift motion. One of his hands moved from the bar to the bottle, holding it up. “More?” He asked as he kept his eyes on her for a second. He nodded his head as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I heard you and Winnie took a trip. Did you guys have fun?” He moved to pour more into her glass, pushing it back to her as he put the bottle down. “Things are fine, same ol’ stuff, different day.”

She responded to his question with a silent nod, inching her glass closer to him. She felt oddly protective over her time in England. The answer should have been simple: yes, we had fun. But they’d had so much more than that. They’d shared so much more than that. She’d seen Winnie at perhaps his most vulnerable, had seen the way his parents beat him down with words, had caught a glimpse of those parts of himself he hid away from the world so well. She wanted to continue to protect those parts of him. “Yeah, we did. It was... a lot. It was a family thing so I was just sort of there for moral support. You know how parents can be.” She flicked her wrist as if it were that simple. As if everyone wasn’t grappling with their own fractured relationships with their parents, all broken in their own way. “Everyone I talked to said I would miss the sun.” She shrugged as her fingers wrapped around the glass he slid in front of her again. She threw the shot back, setting the glass back down with an audible clink. “I didn’t.” She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at him as she did. “Oh, come on. Give me something interesting. I didn’t come all the way here for you to spew the same shit different day garbage at me. I know that dismissal. I feel like I invented that dismissal.”

[emmycahillarchive]

arlofischer‌:

Arlo shrugged her shoulders slightly, knowing that she also wasn’t always the most social person and she honestly couldn’t blame Emmy for it. “You’re fine, really. I mean, I’m totally cool with just sitting here and doing nothing but talking about anything and everything or nothing at all.” She offered a small smile. She thought for a moment that she should just go and stop showing up unannounced to people’s houses as it could make them feel bad or whatever. She played with the hem of her shirt before looking over and nodded. “I am, yeah. Got myself a job here and everything.” She said. “I work at the Paws and Claws Clinic. Getting settled in and everything. I honestly can’t believe I’m back.”

“Well that seems doable,” Emmy acquiesced. “Easiest house guest I think we’ve ever had.” She tried to imagine what Grayson or Winnie would do in this situation. Surely, Winnie would crank up some Spice Girls and they would already be sitting on the floor painting each other in glitter and singing every single word to every single song-- loudly-- through the night. Right. So, she tried to imagine what Grayson might do. “Oh, that’s where I take Noodle. So I guess I would have run into you eventually.” She tapped out an absentminded pattern on her thigh. She was really bombing this whole thing and she knew it. “So, I assume you like animals then? How do you feel about documentaries? I just watched a couple of episodes of Night on Earth with Grayson that was pretty interesting. You in?”

[emmycahillarchive]

carmenpts‌:

Carmen wasn’t stupid, even if she was perceived that way by some people because of the way that she acted or came across. She figured when Emmy dismissed her Jaime theory that her following words were going to be something similar to what she was saying. She didn’t, however, imagine that her words were going to be so hurtful. They were so personal. A part of her understood then, if only for a brief moment, that she wasn’t even Emmy’s problem at all and that quite the opposite; she was her own problem. 

“You don’t know anything about me.” Carmen told her after a beat, the words barely above a whisper, mostly due to the fact that she could feel her eyes beginning to sting and the last thing she needed to do was cry. It was her fault, naturally, that she spent so much of her time and energy making sure that she projected this perfect person for people so that no one would actually care about how she was doing or what she was thinking. Her life did seem perfect. It could’ve been. The perfect house, the perfect wardrobe, the perfect job. “You think because you’ve seen where I live and, what, see me around town sometimes — you think that that means you know anything about me?” 

“That’s ridiculous.” There was never a moment Carmen wouldn’t trade all of her commodities so that she could have her family back or even so that she could have a group of friends that resembled the one Emmy was surrounded by. It was a desperately lonely experience, living a life that in all the senses of the word was essentially a lie. She wasn’t mad at Emmy, that was still an emotion that Carmen was far from feeling towards anyone aside from herself. No, she was angry that some part of her fully agreed with Emmy’s words and even the sentiment behind them. 

Emmy was choking on her own anger, sputtering with rage, desperate for that last biting word that would strike in the right place, that would shut this whole thing down with finality. She wanted the words to bite, to slice, to poison. The longer she floundered for that win, the more she realized she needed it-- if only to toss dirt on top of her own insecurities that felt tattooed across her skin in inky black permanence. 

Her heart beat loud and heavy in her chest. Her throat was dry, her clammy hands clenching into fists by her side. “I don’t have to see where you live to know that you have no idea what actually goes on outside your pretty pink bubble. You don’t know anything about real life, I can see that clear as crystal standing right here. I’d kill to watch you scramble through one day in my life. Where you can’t bat your big brown eyes at people and get what you want. Where you actually have to work for the shit that you have. Where a wardrobe malfunction isn’t the worst thing to ever happen to you. I know enough about you, Carmen. Enough to know I have no desire to know anything else.”

[emmycahillarchive]

rhysxcalvin‌:

Rhys didn’t seem to mind the retreat, especially because he felt the need to tip-toe around Winnie after the male found out about his mother. He didn’t know how it was going to change the dynamic of their relationship and it made him nervous. The last thing he wanted was any of the three of them to start pitying him. He kept to himself and he knew all about Winnie and Emmy going on a trip so he didn’t expect to see her any time soon.

His eyes moved to look over at Emmy once she sat down. He moved from the customer he was with once he was done serving them. He put a shot glass on the surface of the bar and grabbed the cheapest bottle of tequila they had. He poured her a shot and pushed it towards her. “Hey.” He smiled. “How have you been?” 

Emmy’s fingers closed around the glass and she took a long breath in before shooting it back. It burned its way down slowly until it settled warmly in the pit of her stomach. “I’ve... been.” She shrugged. “Can’t really complain, I guess. Getting away from Wilmington for a while was nice, not gonna lie.” She slid the glass towards his side of the bar and folded her arms across the countertop, leaning forward. “What about you? How are things?”

[emmycahillarchive]

oliviapcrter‌:

The juxtaposition was enough to draw an honest to god laugh out of Olivia. It took her by surprise, much Emmy herself. And had she not been looking down at their feet as they walked to ensure she didn’t trample over the dogs there, she would’ve tripped and made a very clumsy fool of herself. “Sadly, that’s not what happened.” She hated to be the bearer of bad news and moreso, Emmy’s approaching cause of disappointment but she couldn’t lie. Something told her that regardless of Emmy’s letdown, she would appreciate that. At least Liv hoped? 

“But, if it helps to satiate that fantasy – I guess you could say, I was – or I am – running away from something.” Weren’t they all though? If not to a place than to a person maybe? Or to.. something. “I have a habit of doing that, apparently. I ran away from my ex who fucked me over in every way possible. – Let’s just say, he’s an asshole. And then I ran from my mom who basically did the same thing to my dad.” It was never Liv’s intention to tell Emmy any of this. Let alone, anyone. She didn’t want to air out her dirty laundry because she didn’t want to evoke looks of sympathy or pity. Not when a part of her felt like she brought it on herself. Because she should’ve known better. On top of that – she didn’t want  people to know what was really going on inside of her head because letting people in had always backfired. But, she supposed there was just something about Emmy that made her want to share. She was important to Grayson and Winnie. And although, they never really talked much before today – maybe a part of Liv really aimed to change that. And maybe the first step was to come clean herself. Afterall, how could she expect Emmy to trust her and warm up to her if she wasn’t open to doing the same?

“Now that I think about it, your version sounds a lot more fun.” Liv genuinely meant that. And if her smile was any indication, it was clear that Emmy – though closed off and cagey – had a unique way with people. Not many could say that. “What’s in Cornwall?” The answer should’ve been obvious. But, Olivia was slightly distracted by the labrador pulling at the other end of her leash. “You know what they say about taking off without any set plan, right?” She allowed brief room for pause. “That you find yourself better that way. So, actually – I think that’s a brilliant answer. As for me? –” Her lips flattened, becoming profoundly more pensive and muted. “I’d go to Indonesia. Bali, to be exact. It seems like a magical and beautiful place to escape. I don’t know if I could live there forever but it’s certainly a dream getaway. That or Italy. Sadly, I can’t afford either.” 

Emmy’s eyes remained stoically ahead as Liv spoke. She knew if the blonde could see her face, she’d see the surprise in the prick of her brows or the widening of her eyes. She’d attempted a joke and had been repaid with stripped-down truth. She had to acknowledge Liv as a person now instead of just a fixture shared between her two roommates. 

And she didn’t exactly dislike what she saw.

“Shit,” Emmy said finally, still looking ahead before she tossed a glance back over at Liv. “That’s really heavy.” She was pretty sure people said ‘sorry’ in situations like this-- as if they had a hand in it or their own empathy could make the situation better. She’d been on the receiving end of entirely too many empty I’m so sorrys that the words felt hollow to her now. Like someone asking you how you were and only expecting a ‘fine, thank you’ in return. If Liv was being real with Emmy, she was going to repay the favor in kind. “So it’s just you and your dad here, then?”

The conversation shifted back to Cornwall and Emmy’s eyes fell to the sidewalk again. “Oh. Just Winnie’s parents. He had to go home a few weeks ago. I went with him for moral support.” She shrugged as if the trip hadn’t shifted their dynamic entirely. Thankfully, Liv was still talking, and Emmy’s head drifted back in her direction. The urge to be honest fell upon her, swift and insistent. Something about Liv’s candidness was awakening a similar need within herself. “I don’t think I want to find myself. Maybe that’s the thing I’m running away from.” To be honest, she’d never thought about it before, but now that she was saying it out loud, it felt right. She didn’t like the way vulnerability made her feel, so her eyes fell to the sidewalk again. She focused, instead, on Liv as she spoke, and breathed out a small laugh. “Yeah, well. Keep working with me and... you still won’t be able to afford shit.” She looked up again, a half-smile on her face. “Sorry.”