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@forrestholloway
Concussion. Broken arm. Lower back contusions. It was safe to say that Forrest had left the bonfire vigil worse for wear than when heâd arrived, though the greatest damage done had hardly left a physical mark on the man. The memories of that night--Emmaâs bloodied face, the sound of her screaming, the discovery of the West Graceâs signage...they kept him up at night, not having a full nightâs rest since before the tribute. And knowing that Nora--Nora--had discovered the body of Donald McIvy? Feeling as if, maybe, if heâd been a little quicker to alert the authorities about their own findings, the burden of making the discovery wouldnât have been placed on her? And yet--
"Sir? Are you okay?â
Forrest was quick to shake his head (and powered through the brief bout of dizziness it brought on), snapping back into the reality that awaited him at the grocery store checkout. Offering the cashier an apologetic smile, he paid for and collected his groceries from the end of the belt. Though at first he felt as if he could manage without the cart, even with one arm in the cast, heâd barely made it out the door before the bags slipped from his arms, dropping to the cement below and spilling their contents.Â
âFuck.â He couldnât keep the obscenity from passing from his lips, slowly kneeling to the ground with gritted teeth, his lower back protesting every inch of the way. It was only then that heâd noticed that somebody had joined him in the descent, another pair of hands aiding in the pickup. Meeting their eyes, despite his pain, Forrest managed a laugh. â...pathetic, right?â
@elisabethstartersâ
emmacardelâ:
Emma.
Brown eyes watch as his face seemingly softens, her name breaking through the noise, the tight grip on her hand increasing with each passing second. Her shoe is planted firmly on a slippery, plank of wood, the moment feeling like itâs been plucked right from a movie. Was she foolish to make much of a small thing? To wail into the face of someone who did nothing to deserve it? Most likely, yes, but everything inside of Emma begs to differ.Â
Or perhaps she was lonely. The fire inside her blazing, air strengthing her burning flames. You can add Forrest to the list of people who didnât pick her. Tommy was up there too. As well as her own mother and father. All of which she had to assume looked to her with distaste these days. For what she did in her youth, to who she is now as a grown woman. Still the same, still as vindictive and gorgeous, but just grown. Thatâs the thing, she hasnât changed. Maybe Forrest has. His face looks different. Even under the glow of a pale moon hung up in the sky, accompanied by stupid paper lanterns that irk Emma.
For a moment, she looks to them and thinks of the missing men. Missing. Gone. Theyâre probably dead, Emma thinks to herself, and then suddenly remembers the crowds of wailing natives that mourn the loss. The missing men. The pregnant girlfriend. The sorrowful families. What an impact theyâve had. Theyâve certainly stirred up a fuss. Emma hates it. Probably because she knows nobody would mourn her. Jesus, what a thought. What a selfish one, at that.
âTheyâre my favorite pair,â Emma pleads quietly, tightening her grip around Forrestâs larger hand. She doesnât think sheâs ever even properly held his hand, even when they dated. That alone was a true testament to who Emma Cardel was as a woman and a partner. Which was, truthfully, not that much. Emmaâs breath hitches, hating the vulnerability that oozes from her now. Finally, Emma moves, attempting to move her away from the wet rocks.
Though, something shines in the water. Her earring. Or, in the metaphorical sense, a glimmer of hope for someone like Emma. But not for someone like Forrest. âHold on! I see something!â She squeaks, moving just slightly to get a better look. Thatâs when it happens. Something snaps beneath her feet and Emma miscalculates her footing and slips, bringing Forrest along with her.Â
This time, she screams. The moment goes by so fast, Emma canât quite decipher anything. She hits her face and her head, a surge of pain around her nose and temple. Blood trickles down her face and sheâs quick to cover her nose, the source of the crimson liquid. She lies sideways on a wet rock, looking down towards the man, âForrest!â She yells out, feeling her body tremble.
If she truly had wanted him to stand there with her and search for her missing earrings until she was absolutely certain they were gone, Forrest would have done it. Emmaâs hand tight in his grip, it was clear that neither of them would be going anywhere until she decided she wanted to. He had half a mind to give in to her himself, hearing her quiet pleading and thinking back to the phone settled in his back pocket. âI know.â Slowly, his head nodded, not needing his flashlight to see the look in her eyes. Defeat. And something told him that it had more to do with just the missing pair of diamonds.
His own sigh sounded when she ultimately made the decision to move forward. Turning slightly to better get a sense for the footing needed to safely exit the rocks, Forrest took a step forward, hand still in Emmaâs. Only, he heard her squeak too late, the tug to his hand coming as a surprise as she pulled him too hard in the opposite direction. Forrestâs foot slipped out from underneath him, as did his hand from her grip, forced apart by gravity as the sudden feeling of falling overtook him.Â
The contact between his back and the slick rock took the breath from him, the force of it against his head making stars appear in his vision, and his forearm making contact with a sickening crack he swore was louder than the sound of Emmaâs screaming. Wildfire all but shoots up his nerves, a pain that spreads from head to toe, and he canât hold back the guttural groan that passed through his lips. The spared arm reached instinctively to cradle the back of his head, though a wetness at his fingertips encouraged him to bring them to view, crimson slowly trickling down towards his palm.Â
âFuck.â He hissed through clenched teeth, dropping his hand into the water below, the pain only spreading as he turned his head in order to better view Emma, able to see the crimson dripping from her own features. His heart sunk at the sight, wanting to reach out, move closer, though his body protested. âIâm...Iâm okay, Emma. Are you alright? Can you...can you get up?â He asked, though in the moment was unsure of how successful he would be in attempting so.
It was the brushing of something against his wrist that brought his attention downward. A broken plank of wood, floating in the water by his hand. Heâd noticed one earlier, when searching with his flashlight, but hadnât paid it much mind, focused on the missing jewelry. However, as Forrest got a better look at it then, something stood out to him, about the lettering, gripping the out of place plank in his uninjured hand and raising it to his slowly clearing vision. ST GRA. ST GRA. ST GRA...
Holy shit.
âEmma, I need you to...is that piece of wood still over there? Can you...can you reach it?â
willahollowayâ:
  âI am fairly certain it has about the same equivocal value.â Willow amended, amusement laced heavily in her tone. Sometimes, she wondered, if it wasnât just the cliche of certain presumed gender roles that had drawn her into her passion. Perhaps, maybe, without her realizing it was more in small moments; like with Forrest. With their mother even. Perhaps the whole âthe way to a manâs heart is through his stomachâ line was just the fancy dressing, painted over the much more sentimental reason that Willa had gone off to George Brown College. âThough, I will admit I could improve upon itâ fresh baked bread, some basil leaves and a tomato sauce. Then youâve got yourself a sandwich.â Loosening up, as at least they were talking about something she knew her way around, the blonde had even gone as far as to toss her brother a teasing wink. Truthfully, not genuinely daring to suggest he mixed up the tried and true simple recipe.Â
âAh, alright so we have really stuck to one known constant. Very wise.â Her chin fell idly into her palm, elbow rested briefly on the countertop. âChicken parm is a fairly decent thing to have in your wheelhouse.â Mention of Elena encouraging her to wear a smile, though a tango with guilt always seemed very close behind. Realizing she had a nearly grown niece whom Willow hardly knew, but alas, their family had never quite encouraged much in terms of sibling affections. How was one to be an aunt when they had hardly been much of a sister? âWell, she is more than welcome to make use of me then. Cupcakes, cookies, a pieâ the real trouble will be me not accidentally getting her a bit hyped up on sugar.â A concept that, earnestly, Elena was likely too old to be of any actual concern. âOr, at the very least, encouraging a newly sprouted sweet tooth.âÂ
âSame equivocal value, huh?â Forrest teased, the amusement clear in his own tone. She sounded much like their mother, Mrs. Hollowayâs influence always having appeared the strongest in Willow. It made sense, when he thought about it--the whole dynamic of their family, Forrest taking after their father and Willow, meant to be the carbon copy of their familyâs matriarch. Growing up, he hadnât thought much about the various pressures that his siblings face, selfishly assuming that he was the one who received the worst of his familyâs expectations. And yet, his sister had wound up on his doorstep, afraid that a stint at their parentâs house would result in being manipulated into returning to her cheating fiance. She was the last person Forrest had expected to see at his door, the relationship between the two siblings nonexistent, but in the moment, thereâd been no hesitation in ushering her inside from the chilly night and welcoming her into his home with open arms.Â
Open arms, but an unstocked pantry, unfortunately. Itâd been takeout the first few nights of her stay, and while grilled cheese didnât seem like that big of an improvement, Forrest took pride in knowing it was something he hadnât had to order in. âWell, thereâs canned tomato soup.â He informed, looking back over his shoulder with a small smile, only teasing. They both knew her version of the sandwich sounded better than the missing tomato and processed bread one currently cooking before him. He made a mental note to add his chicken dish to the repertoire for an upcoming dinner. It wasnât anything special, but it was something, at least.
âIâll take fairly decent.â Forrest laughed, placing the sandwiches from the pan onto the plates set out, turning off the stove before turning around and sliding Willowâs in front of her. âTrust me, itâs not newly sprouted. We got her started with soccer so sheâd have somewhere to go burn it all up.â We, having been Nora and himself, and the slip up had his smile turning down at itâs edges, though he was quick to pick them back up, nodding towards her sandwich. âYouâll have to let me know if itâs as good as you remember.âÂ
Uncle Joe had given a moving speech, there were few dry eyes on the beach and some Fremonters were openly crying. Family he said, and it was true, they were. Now, slowly but surely the lanterns were giving way and hopefully guiding their people home and if they werenât serving their purpose, than at least it made for a beautiful night and an excited Bobbie bouncing in her arms every time a new light was lit. âLook mommy, another,â the little girl said, clapping her hands and grinning widely as a few more lanterns followed the one that was released. It was all very symbolical, and as much as she wanted to explain to her daughter what was happening, she was still too young for the concept of life and death, she wouldnât even have any memories of this when she grew up. Sam gave touched her lips to Bobbieâs temple and watched along with her on their spot on the beach, getting a bit lost in thought, if she was being honest. âDid you have a lantern, too?â Sam raised her eyebrow and looked over to the person who had been unwillingly roped into a conversation with the little girl and mouthed sorry.
location: tortue cove â myrtle rock ( vigil & bonfire )
open starter: @elisabethstartersââ
Forrest had admittedly been staring. He remembered Elenaâs own first vigil, five years old and enraptured by the way the lanterns had illuminated the night sky. Sheâd had no idea the weight that those lanterns, and the ones who lit them, carried, small hands and chubby fingers clapping together, pointing upwards towards them and looking back at Forrest with those wide blue eyes of hers. Thereâd been no real explaining to her that night why it was so many of their neighbors, friends, and families had taken to the beach, why they could be seen crying, or holding one another close. He wasnât sure when it was sheâd realized the true meaning behind the night--perhaps when the next one occurred and sheâd been older--though he couldnât seem to recall ever having spoken about it. His eyes cut briefly to where she stood then, huddled with friends from the soccer team, heads pressed against one anotherâs...but he could still see that small spark of awe in her eye as her gaze turned towards the sky. It brought a sad smile to his lips, though his attention was ultimately drawn away by Bobbieâs question. The smile remained, however, meeting Samâs eyes as she realized her daughterâs own focus had wavered. He was quick to shake his head at the mouthed apology.
âYeah, Bobbie, I did.â Looking up towards the sky, Forrest pointed to a random lantern, watching as she tried to track his finger. âI think itâs that one right there.â Truthfully, itâd been some time since him and Elena had sent their lanterns up, but he could see the excitement on her face, and didnât want to put an end to it.
emmacardelâ:
Disaster strikes. From the naked eye, this situation looks absolutely ludicrous. Probably because it was. It takes everything inside of Emma not to wail like a child, to call her rich mother and complain about a lost diamond. But, when you looked close enough, was this a true testament to Emmaâs personality or what she buries deep? In truth, each scenario was more than plausible. It wouldnât be the first time she took action elsewhere in pursuit of burying her truest and rawest emotions.Â
So, here she was, barely standing upright on a couple of rocks, looking desperately for her earring that had slipped from her grasp as she attempted to straighten it. âIt doesnât matter how many I have!â Emma wails dramatically, holding on tightly to a rock located before her. âIâŚdo know when I lost it..â Her words trail off, her tone obviously uncertain. Brown eyes look towards Forrest once more, attempting to persuade him with her pleas. This tactic had worked once upon a time, the two having dated in high school to the absolute delight of their family and peers. You should have married him, locked him down while you could. Emma could hear her motherâs voice rang inside her mind like a blaring siren. Perhaps thatâs what truly troubled her now, the look on her motherâs face when she finds out sheâs lost an earring at a vigil, an island tradition. How dare Emma Cardel look anything less than polished.Â
âDo you really care about this stupid vigil so much?â The brunette questions, her words cruel but somewhere the most sincere sheâs been all evening. âEveryone here is a faker!â With that, she almost slips, reaching out for Forrest as she does so, a screech sounding from inside her throat. âShit,â Needless to say, this was about more than just an earring.Â
It was the third vigil that Forrest had attended in ten years. The third boat to go missing, the third crew to go with it, third set of lanterns lit to light the path home. Perhaps heâd been easier to fool, when heâd been younger, but at nearly thirty four years old, he knew better. Light the path home didnât refer to their home of Elisabeth Island, but to the bigger, capital H Home that some found comfort in, as--much like the crew before them--there was a slim to none chance of them being alive. Though he was raised Catholic, the last church service Forrest had attended had been Elenaâs own baptism, preformed at the insistence of his devout mother. The idea of believing in Something, capital S, was a nice one, he thought, but still one he struggled to put into practice. How could he, when heâd seen the look on Mrs. McIvyâs face? Or the pregnant belly of Connor Wardâs girlfriend?
Heâd known Emma, once upon a time. Known her as well as a pair of fourteen year olds could. She hadnât been his first girlfriend, but two years of his high school career had been dedicated to her, and in that time, heâd come to realize that they shared similar pressures from their families, who had been the catalyst behind their relationship in the first place. While it hadnât been enough to keep them together, being able to share that part of his life with somebody had meant something, to Forrest. The knowledge that there was somebody so close that understood exactly what he was going through. He felt guilty, in that moment. Watching Emma. When he and Amari had gotten back together, contact between them had ceased. Heâd left her alone, right as theyâd begun to discover just how crushing it was to be so.
âEmma--â He sighed her name again, hearing more in her tone than just frustration, though he had little chance to speak before her foot slipped out from underneath her. He jolted forward, in the moment, catching her hand in his and managing to keep them both upright. A breath past his lips, chest rising and falling heavily with it as his eyes lifted back to her own. âWe donât have to go back.â He conceded, face softening as his grip on her hand strengthened. âBut letâs just get down from here, okay?â He would hate to see her get hurt.
Who: @emmacardelâ
When: 8:30 PM
Where: Eastside of the Beach
Trying to find a diamond earring in the middle of the ocean was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Though, Forrest supposed he never had to attempt the latter, but he felt justified in his theory that the former actually happened to be much more difficult. How heâd allowed Emma to rope him into her search for her missing jewelry, he wasnât sure, and the thought of having to witness the inevitable breakdown that would come with their inability to find it amongst the water and the sand and the dark didnât appeal to him any more than the situation itself. Heâd been unable to say no, though, an aspect of her personality that clearly hadnât changed in the twenty or so years since theyâd dated.
Balance unsteady atop of the sea slick rocks this side of the beach had turned into, Forrest sighed, looking away from the flashlight illuminated section heâd been half-hazardously searching over. âEmma, come on.â He sighed her name, her own steadiness atop of the rocks concerning him. âYouâre gonna kill yourself looking for this thing. You donât even know when you lost it.â His hand reached out for her own, not wanting her to slip on the off chance that she came with him willingly. âBesides, knowing you, youâve got at least three backup pairs.â He couldnât keep from laughing at his own joke, offering her an almost pleading smile. âLetâs get back to the vigil.â
barrismsâ:
âI was in the area.â He noted as he followed behind his cousin with the dirty dishes and silverware that was somewhat carelessly placed. in the sink. âAnd craving Chinese.â With a quick turn away from the sink, Barrett moved from one side of the kitchen to the other while his gaze fell upon the tray of lasagna that had been neglected in favor of Barrettâs choice. Once again, points for him. If they were counting of course but werenât they always? âSomeone had it in a movie I watched the other night, subconscious choice.â The psychiatrist gave a shrug of his shoulders once before his form came forward to rest his forearms against the cold countertop. For a moment he didnât give a verbal response, only the expression that fell upon his features seemed to give any indication he had heard the other. Quizzical, sure. He would like to seem caught off guard but there was something else there. A tell. The very reason poker was a game he never could win at. That mischievous glimmer behind his eyes that didnât seem to match up with the feigned surprise in his voice.âWhat?â He paused for the dramatics of it all. âI need a reason to see my cousin? Maybe I wanted to make sure you were okay.â He glanced back momentarily. A lazy attempt to make sure Forrestâs daughter wasnât present when his attention returned to his cousin. âDo you need a drink? I think you need a drinkâŚor three.âÂ
His head slowly nodded, unsure that he entirely bought Barrettâs excuse of having been in the area. Heâd never known his cousin to be the kind of man who just did anything without some form of ulterior motive, though what other purpose bringing dinner to Forrest and his daughter could serve, he didnât know. He had a feeling he would find out, however, and simply would hold his breath until he did so. âRight.â His attention returned to the dishes in the sink, pushing his sleeves further up his arms as he began to run the hot water. âThank you, then. Again.â The only sound in the room for the moment was the running tap and the melodic scrubbing of the plates and silverware theyâd used, the clank of them against the dishwasher as Forrest placed them in the rack. Barrett practically gave himself away, the dramatics of his own questioning prompting Forrest to look at him with a raised eyebrow, as if asking him to cut the shit. The phrase make sure you were okay caught his interest, as did the slow look around the room, as if just then noticing Elenaâs absence. Before Barrett even spoke, Forrest knew what this visit was about, and with a sigh, turned back to the sink. âWho told you she was in town?â Jennaâs name didnât need to be spoken, the tone in Forrestâs voice making it abundantly clear who he was referring to.
willahollowayâ:
@forrestholloway
       It was surreal, a moment plucked out of a version of her life that Willow had never really expected to find herself living. Sat there in Forrestâs kitchen while the whole of her worldly possessions were currently tucked away in the bedroom she was sharing with her niece. The niece that, like her elder brother, Willa hardly could claim to know; in spite of their blood relation. Ocean blue eyes watched as Forrest busied himself in the kitchen, the smell of warm butter wafting through the air. The blonde was utterly unsure of what to do with herself. She fidgeted, legs crossing and uncrossing, fiddling idly with her hands. Forgetting how to take up space without feeling some kind of way about it. âI should be the one cooking,â Willow finally piped up. Their conversation had been sporadic at best thus far, talking between sprinkled moments of elongated silence. ââyou know, youâve got to make some use out of me. I am pretty sure that itâs in an Older Brother handbook somewhere that youâre supposed to have me do chores and call you something ridiculous along the lines of Sir Holloway or Master.â The shadow of a grin found the line of her lips, though the jest did speak to some genuine desire to not just be lounging about her brotherâs place without being able to offer something in return. The âthatâs what family doesâ sentiment didnât necessarily feel like it fit the bill in their particular case.Â
The sizzle of the pan garnished an almost wistful sigh from the young woman, gaze skirting towards the greasy bread within. Slowly goldening. The image slamming her back in time to their youth. âI know this is what you used to doâ but, I really hope your cooking skills extend beyond grilled cheese, for Elenaâs sake.â Another harmless jest, or so it was intended.Â
There were less than six years between the two siblings. Forrest used to think of the difference in age as the reason for their disconnect. When Elena had been born, Willow hadnât yet been thirteen, the lack of things in common between them only growing as Forrest took on the role of father towards his own daughter. As heâd grown older, itâd become increasingly clearer that their relationship, if it could be called as much, was a result of the different pressures the Hollowayâs had put on each of their children. For Forrest and their brother, itâd been the pressure of competition, but for Forrest and Willow, perfection. And while their parents had been the ones responsible for this pressure, itâd taken Forrest nearly eighteen years to even begin to fight against it. By then, however, itâd been too late to try and repair the damage thatâd been done. A few years later would see both siblings off to college, to explore the rest of the world outside of the small bubble of the one theyâd grown up in, the one Forrest chose to remain in, and that he assumed theyâd never return to. When heâd heard of Willowâs return not only to Elisabeth, but to their parentâs home, heâd been surprised. When Willow had quickly abandoned them in favor of turning up on his doorstep? Heâd been dumbfounded. But it hadnât stopped him from ushering her inside and offering her a place to stay.
Itâd been an awkward stay, to say the least. Both of them trying to find some sort of ground to stand on with one another. When Willow had stumbled into the kitchen while Forrest had been cooking up lunch for himself, heâd unhesitatingly offered her some, though as he stood over the hot pan, a memory unlocked. Six year old Willow, sat at their countertop. Pigtails, missing front tooth. Watching eagerly as he prepared grilled cheese sandwiches for the both of them late at night, after their parents had gone to bed and theyâd realized they were both still hungry from the stuffy charity dinner theyâd been dragged to.
âI spread butter on some bread and put some cheese between them, Will. Itâs not like I whipped up a Beef Wellington.â His eyes rolled playfully, glancing over at his sister over his shoulder, the other hand flipping the sandwich in the pan with the rubber spatula. âAnd Iâll have you know that Iâve upgraded to other cheese based dishes. Like...lasagna. And chicken parm.â He offered her a small smile and a shrug, as if to say thatâs all Iâve got, before turning back to the grilled cheese. âBesides, who cooks for the chef?â Or baker, more like, but his point remained. âWhich Elenaâs definitely going to try and take advantage of, by the way. You mustâve gotten all the baking genes.â Forrest could mess up place and bake cookies.
amariquintcnâ:
LOCATION: Out and about, Myrtle Rock
WITH: @forresthollowayâ
Truthfully, it was possible that Amari had been somewhat avoiding Forrest ever since the reappearance of Elenaâs mother because she knew that the wounds that had began to reopen upon her own heart would be nothing in comparison to the ones upon Forrestâs. Jenna had been the whole reason as to why Amari had to live the rest of the life having her head constantly filled with the what ifâs of her relationship with Forrest. Instead their lives had decided to take a different path and while it wasnât one that Amari enjoyed as such, it had allowed Forrest to be a father, and a proud one at that. And Amari had been left with the torturous wondering of who they would be now if Jenna hadnât fallen pregnant.
With a freshly pressed juice in her hand, Amari dipped out of Roots with just enough time to catch a glimpse of Forrest across the road. Instinctively, she called out his name to catch his attention and then continued to panic about what exactly she was going to say once she had caught up with him. âI just wanted to see how you and Elena were doing.â the brunette explained suspiciously as she linked her arm through his. She pursed her lips together as she heard herself how unnatural the tone of her voice sounded and knew Forrest would have definitely picked up on it too. âBecause Iâve uh⌠Seen that Jenna is back on the island.âÂ
He was outnumbered in his own home. It wouldnât be the first time, though, and it was odd, the sense of almost comfort that it brought with it. There was still plenty of work to be done in order to repair the relationship between him and Willow (could you repair something thatâd never been whole in the first place?), and if part of that repair had to be done over being sent out for ice cream by his begging daughter and sister? He didnât feel like he had too much to complain about--at least in that regard. With a brown bag full of three different pints of ice cream in his arm, Forrest exited Lazy Cow.Â
Heâd only managed to get a foot or two out of the ice cream shop when the sound of his name hit his ears, drawing his attention to Amariâs approaching form. A gentle smile pulled at his lips as she looped an arm around his own, better adjusting the bag in his other arm to accommodate her arrival. That smile managed to wipe clean off his face, however, at her question. Knowing that Amari and gossip went hand in hand, there was no doubt in his mind as to what she was truly asking about--and the confirmation that followed only sealed as much.
"...she showed up at the school, just the other day.â He admitted, glancing down at her. âElena walked in and...didnât even recognize her.â A relief, in the moment, for Forrest. âShe, uh...still doesnât know.â
noraandrcwsâ:
Nora sat down expectantly, waiting for the game to begin, bracing herself for 90 minutes of screaming at the refs as she had always done. She remembered too fondly what it was like once when she had been permitted at the side of the field, she was sure her fact was red by the end of the game and she almost needed to nail her feet to the ground not to rush to Elenaâs aid every time someone tumbled her to the ground. Elena used to laugh at her for her soccer antics when they got back home, it had never been a cause of embarrassment and Nora was glad that she had only embarrassed herself back then. Now it was trickier to be a constant presence, with work and with not knowing exactly how to navigate when she was around Forrest. It killed her to go when he was there and having to be seated all the way on the back where no one would notice her, to have to hold back her instincts, not being able to open her arms and have Elena rushing into them all sweaty and gross the way she had done for eight years, completely ruining some silk blouses she had.
It was hard to not sit there and not get caught up in her head, she had been experiencing that a lot lately.
Which was maybe the reason why she completely missed Forrest until he spoke to her. Blue eyes raked up until they found his face, she swept a finger under her bangs to keep them out of the way (her breakup bangs) and sucked in a breath. Even four years later he still had the same effect on her and she could freaking hear her heart drumming inside of her ears, feel it banging against her rib cage and her palms suddenly turning sweaty. Her voice always got caught in her throat. Forrestâs presence was always filled with heartache and what ifâs. She remembered all too well how it was like for her during her first day post-breakup, she had never been able to shake it off his chosen words. She never wanted to beg for someone to stay before him, she never wanted to drop on her knees and ask them not to go awayâ she still didnât when it came to him, but she wanted to, and all the words she never said made all the other ones get caught at the sight of him.
Eventually she cleared her throat and scooted to the side a bit, giving more space between. âNoâ you can have it if you want to,â she offered him a gentle smile, trying to appear as cool and collected as she thought she sounded. She would seriously need to have words with Elena later about this. Was she trying to parent trap them or something? She had said a million times she didnât understand why they couldnât handle being with one another in the same space, but Nora never thought she would go the lengths to⌠no, it didnât sound like something Elena would do at all, and she sighed. Hyper aware of Forrestâs presence when he took the seat next to her.Â
It was like every cell of her body reacted to it. Almost pulling her closer. When they were together, Noraâs body always found a way to be close to him. Be it crawling into his arms and resting her head on his shoulder, or a simple hand on his knee when they were in public, but she was always touching him somehow. It had been in the beginning whenever they saw one another, avoiding hugging him, kissing him, reminding herself that there was no more them. Even now when her body pulled her closer and she had on concentrate on something, anything else to keep in her seat. Her right knee bounced, a clear sign that she was feeling overly stressed and nervous and for once she was grateful that she had the game to put the blame on, as the girls ran on the field and shoot some goals before the game actually started, she checked her watch and noticed they still had a few minutes before they needed to pay attention to the game.
âH-How are you? Good?â Nora glanced at Forrest, but quickly directed her attention elsewhere, hand directly in her popcorn and popcorn in her mouth, as if she needed to give him more indicators she was nervous, she stopped mid stress-chewing and attempted to chew like a normal person. âDid youâ uhm, did you go any day to the docks? You know⌠to help with the missing people?â
Unlike most of the relationships in his life, sheâd snuck up on him. The attraction had been there, initially, but sheâd been younger, more reserved, different than his usual type. Theyâd actually been friends first, something he hadnât experience before--all of his relationships in high school practically starting as such. But Nora...it was like sheâd come out of nowhere. Like one day heâd opened his eyes and there she was, standing in front of him, as if sheâd been there all along. From there, things hadnât quite fallen together so easily, the two of them dancing around one another as they attempted to figure out what exactly it was that they were feeling, but once theyâd been together, it become more than clear that she was it for Forrest. Smart, and funny, and kind--not to mention beautiful, and good with Elena. Heâd been most nervous about the latter, his daughterâs reaction to the new woman in their lives, but also that new womanâs reaction to his daughter. Having been in college when theyâd met, Forrest knew he couldnât have expected Nora to want to jump right into being a mother, especially for a kid who was not her own. That was a lot of pressure for anybody--Elenaâs own mother, included--and ultimately, had been the demise of their relationship, even if still unknown to Nora.
Heâd gotten cold feet. Thereâd been countless conversations in their eight years together about her role in Elenaâs life--one that she was happy to serve in. Not as a mother, but simply someone who was there. Loved her as much as Forrest did. But there had always been a small voice in the back of Forrestâs head wondering if that was, not enough, but still too much. If one day, Nora would wake up and realize that this--that they--werenât what she wanted at all and leave, the very same way that Jenna had. If the responsibility of it all had been too much for her, how could Forrest expect it from Nora? How could he live with knowing that heâd been the reason behind another person in Elenaâs life leaving her?
If he thought about it for too long, however, something thatâd fortunately lessened in the years since their breakup, another voice in the back of his mind would inform him that it wasnât just Elena he was worried about being left behind again.
Itâd been awhile, since theyâd last seen each other. Having been in Elenaâs life for more than half of it, keeping them apart from one another hadnât been an option heâd even entertained. In fact, it brought relief to him, that Nora seemed to miss Elena the way Elena missed her, even if, with that relief, came the guilt of knowing heâd been the one whoâd torn their makeshift family apart. It was the same guilt that he faced then, standing above her, asking for the chance to sit next to her, like he had any right to do so. And yet, he took the seat anyway, having offered a tight smile back. If you want to, sheâd said, peering up at him underneath those bangs of hers. There were a lot of things he wanted.
âThank you.â Taking the seat next to her, silence fell between the two, Forrest unsure of where to look. The field, his lap, her eyes. What to say. A general how are you? was harmless, working up the courage to ask her, when she beat him to it. As he glanced up, their eyes met, and for the moment, he found himself forgetting just what it was sheâd asked. The further questions about the docks sobered him up, bringing the man back down to reality as his head nodded. âIâm, uh, Iâm good. Was down there the night the, uh...news broke.â Four people, gone just like that. His teeth dug into the inside of his cheek. âHow...how are you?â His eyebrows rose, curiously.Â
You think Nicola is hot
âI, uh...yeah, Nicolaâs...very attractive. True.â
@nicolakincaid
You dream of bigger and better things.
âFalse. Maybe when I was younger, I did. Felt like I was losing more than I was gaining. But I had no idea the life that itâd lead to, and itâs one that Iâm happy with. I donât think I could want anymore.â
&. BASICS
Full Name: Forrest James Holloway.
Nicknames: For, Mr. Holloway.
Age: Thirty three
Sexuality: Heretosexual
Date of Birth: July 21st, 1986
Place of Birth: Port Elisabeth, Elisabeth Island, BC
Gender & Species: Human male
Current Location: Myrtle Rock, Elisabeth Island, BC
&. MORE BASIC INFO
Languages: English, conversational French, basic Latin
Religion: Non practicing Catholic
Education: Double major of secondary education and English, teacherâs certificate
Occupation: High school English teacher at Elisabeth High
Drinks, Smokes, & Drugs: Occasionally, almost never, almost never
&. PERSONALITY
Zodiac Sign:Â Cancer
MBTI:Â ISFJ
Likes: Baseball, soccer, reading, coffee, alcohol, cars.
Dislikes: Surprises, pressure, deadlines, being forced to wear a suit and tie.
Bad Habits: Grinds his teeth, picks at the labels of things.
Secret Talent: Can hold a tune, though he doesnât do much singing outside of the car.
Hobbies: Baseball, reading, working out.
Fears: Something happening to his daughter, or her growing to resent him
Five Positive Traits: Hardworking, intelligent, empathetic, dependable,Â
Five Negative Traits: Self-sabotaging, hypocritical, paranoid, grumpy, withdrawn.
&. APPEARANCE
Tattoos: None
Piercings: None
Reference Picture: x
&. FAMILY INFORMATION
Parent Names: Joseph and Meredith Holloway
Parent Relationship: Growing up, a lot of pressure had been placed on Forrest. He was the supposed âgolden childâ of the family, and with that came the harsh grip that the two Holloway parents would have on him. Nothing was really left to be a decision for Forrest to choose, but chosen for him, from the sport he played to where heâd go to college. When it was revealed that he was to be a father his senior year of high school, his parents were devastated, the only reason he remained in their care and finances being to save face. In the fifteen years since Elenaâs birth, his parents have eased their disdain for the choice he made to be a father instead of playing baseball, as theyâd planned, though he knows they will never be fully content with his choice, despite their love for their granddaughter.
Sibling Names: Willow Holloway, (brotherâs name undecided) Holloway.
Sibling Relationship: Because of the individual pressures of their childhood, the Holloway siblings werenât raised to be as much. They were practical strangers, living in their home--Forrest and his brother, due to the rivalry his parents caused, and him and his sister mostly due to the age difference between them. In the years since theyâve grown, the relationships have not entirely mended, with their brother no longer living in Elisabeth, and his sister only just having returned.Â
Children: Elena Holloway.
Pets: None (though Elena is certainly trying).