adventure is out there

My name is Harmony Sage Owens. I'm originally from Montana, but currently residing in Virginia for my teaching career. Just a small town girl living in a lonely world.

[adamlindstrom]

Adam’s eyes peered up to the woman that stood above him, a big grin apparent on her face. It was a smile that was matched as he helped Lola stand upright, patting her little back as she began to pick up the balls and return them to the display. "I don’t think even I’m that mean,” he said with a chuckle that came from deep within his belly. "One minute I was looking for garlic bread, and the next we were standing in a ball graveyard." He spoke, immediately pausing to reconsider the words he just spoke. “That came out wrong,” he said under his breath, suppressing a giggle. "I am so sorry."

[hellomissowens]

Harmony couldn't resist her laugh, a chuckle pushing out openly. As she helped the young girl pick up some of the balls on the ground, Harm peered over at the man. "It's okay," She replied reassuringly. It would be Harmony to understand that, saying things without thinking first. "I guess you could say your daughter is better than you at getting the ball rolling?" A pun, definitely not out of character for Harmony to use in certain situations.

[hellomissowens]

I'm getting sick! 

Feels like a little cold, which'll probably be gone in a few days, but it's definitely messing with my muse for both Harmony and Jacob. I know I have Hayden's reply, then quite a few replies on Jacob. I'll try to get them out when I feel less foggy. Right now I think I want to relax and not push my mind too hard to write. I hope to be back really soon, I don't stay sick long. We'll see.

Sorry guys!

[hellomissowens]

HARMONY OWENS + POST TREVOR DEVELOPMENT 

"UNEXPRESSED EMOTIONS WILL NEVER DIE.

THEY ARE BURIED ALIVE

  AND WILL COME FORTH LATER IN UGLIER WAYS."

[aseaofquotes]

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

[adamlindstrom]

Adam pushed the cart through the grocery store as Lola trotted happily behind him, insisting on being free from its plastic confines. She wanted to practice the dances she learned in ballet class, hoping to be ‘as good as the big girls’ one day. She spun around his legs, twirling through the store as they made their way down the frozen food aisle. After bumping into a stranger halfway through a pirouette, she instantly rebounded into a sizable stack of bouncy balls, causing each and every one of them to fall out of the display box and scatter onto the shiny floor. Adam held back a snicker as he watched his little girl lose her footing and slip onto the ground, surrounded in a sea of bouncy balls. "Well, that is not good," he muttered out, reaching down to pick up his daughter. "Hey, I’m sorry about that. Kids will be kids, right?" 

[hellomissowens]

Harmony wasn't expecting much out of her day. Her trip to the grocery store was a simple, quick, one. Just a few items, and out the door she would go. At least until she heard chaos behind her. A little girl and her father watched as the balls bounced one by one onto the floor. Harmony couldn't help but chuckle as she approached the two to help them. "Not good at all," Harm agreed. "Hmm, I don't know, I didn't see anything. What if you're trying to place blame?"

[hellomissowens]

HARMONY OWENS + INNER WORKINGS 

"MY MOTHER SAYS NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WASH,

SOME STAINS ARE PERMANENT."

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Knight in Knitted Armor ▿ Adam & Harmony

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Just when Adam thought that everything was going right, everything went wrong. In the moments that he’d laid out the products that he’d made on the table, the smile that had so blessedly graced Harmony’s features had disappeared, leaving in its place a look that Adam couldn’t quite decipher. What was that in her eyes? At first, he thought it was disgust. Disgust for what he had made; dislike for what he presented before her. At first, he thought there must have been something wrong with him and what he presented. The curdling fear that came with this thought quickly overcame him, thus dampening the smile on his own face and removing any hints of it. It had always been a great fear to disappoint others. At thirty, one would think that Adam would have had it all figured out; one would think that he would have found a way around his fear of rejection, yet there he stood in front of Harmony Owens, afraid and ashamed of what he had done, and the reaction that she had given him.

However, the more he looked at her, and the  more he studied her features, the more he realized that it was not, after all, disgust. There was something else in her eyes; something that vaguely reminded him of himself whenever he looked at Cooper. Longing. In Harmony’s eyes were longing, and Adam could just about figure that with the look of longing came its other signs: the twinge in one’s heart, the hint of sadness that came after, the pain that came from knowing that one did not have what they so wanted to have. As Adam looked at Harmony in the silence that had been rendered before them, he understood more than he should have just by looking at the reaction that the baby attires had caused within her, and he understood more of himself and how he felt about Cooper with the way her look of longing reminded him of his own. And, like he understood that he himself could not fully admit whatever it was he felt for his friend, so Adam understood that it was possible that Harmony could not be able to admit to others the emotion that even looking at these baby attires caused within her.

Adam allowed her the silence that she needed. Within him was a hesitation, a feeling that he should look away as he was being obtrusive by even watching her in her vulnerability; and yet, at the same time, he did not turn away, for the hesitation made him keep his gaze on her. One part of him longed to do something, and yet another longed to give her the time that she needed. One part of him wondered whether there was something he could do, while the other knew that sometimes, just allowing one person to themselves was all anyone could do. The questions played on his features, but never once did he voice them out. Worry and hope flashed across his countenance, too, but he kept those emotions silent as well. But thus, he would allow Harmony her silence; when she was ready to speak, then he would be ready to listen. That was all he could do, wasn’t it? Sometimes, silence and readiness were all one could give.

It was only when Harmony spoke once again did Adam perk up in attention from his seat. The slight furrow of worry between his eyebrows remained, but a small, soft smile graphed his lips, too. He hoped that it was a smile welcoming enough; he hoped that it was a smile enough to show that he was not judging her, and that he would never even think of doing so. It was not even a smile that was about himself or the newborn attires that he’d made, no; the fear of her completely ignoring the things he’d made had now passed. No, the smile that he had was simply for Harmony: to show her that he was there if she would need a friend to talk to, and yet at the same time, to show her that he would give her her silence if she so asked for it. Even after she had spoken, Adam allowed a moment’s beat to pass before them before he finally did speak in reply, almost as if he was waiting for the right time only to find that it might never come.

“Are you okay, Harmony?” Adam asked in his softest voice. He had moved one hand across the table, almost as if to reach out for his acquaintance despite never truly quite touching her, as an instinct for that was the case when it came to comforting people. Then, again, he let that action slowly materialize before them, leaving again another moment’s beat of silence to pass between the table before he finally spoke once more. Situations like these were difficult, but not one that Adam was entirely new to. In the years that he’d spent at The Pie Hole, he’d seen one too many sad customers around. And yet, it never did become any easier. Dealing with one’s grief, or longing, or sadness, or pain never did become easier, and knowing what to say never did become something he learned. So, with a soft, steady voice, Adam asked the only thing he knew: a question that would mean Harmony decided which words he chose next: “Do you want to talk about it?”

[hellomissowens]

Harmony wasn’t typically someone who showed their deeper sense of emotions. While the woman was notorious for being rather open and honest, she was honestly very closed off. It was a thing she picked up, as an optimist, and carried with her once the bullying in her life seized. After graduating high school, it became easier for Harmony to put on a smile and tell others everything would be okay. Harm was selfless like that; she didn’t give someone a proper ‘that sucks’ or ‘it’ll be okay’. No, Harmony Owens went out on a limb for people. After the emotional abuse the woman endured as a child, she found every reason to be that shoulder for most people. In all college, no matter who it was, if Harmony saw them down in the dumps, she would talk to them until they felt better. People’s problems easily became her own. It was a vow of her own to really take initiative for others, because way back then? Harmony didn’t have that support from her peers. And it was a simple promise to herself, to be there for others, that created this subconscious wall. A wall so small, even Harm hardly noticed she had one. An optimist like her didn’t go looking at the bad parts, the guarded side, she only saw the parts of her that helped others.

So even now, as Adam asked her what the problem was, Harmony couldn’t find it in herself to really open up and talk about the pathetic trigger. “What?” She stared dumbly, pretending as though she had no idea what he was talking about. “Oh-- It-It’s nothing. Everything is great, everything looks great, I promise.” Of course she knew what Adam was asking about. It had to be written on her face; her sheer disappointment had to be all over her body language. Not that Adam’s current completed items were a disappointment, just the disappointment in letting that wall down for even a split second. This was supposed to be a business deal- they were supposed to meet, have lunch, look at the pretty things Adam had created so far, and Harm would leave. That would be that, so Harmony found no point in wanting to open up about this. “I love it all, it looks so beautiful and I think-- I think my brother would love this. Well-- okay, not my brother. His wife-- Rachel-- she would love this-- everything you’ve made, so far, I mean.” Harmony continued, nodding. Just to shut herself up, the woman shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth, then washed it down with lemonade. Harmony always attempted to get out of talking, but she sucked at not talking.

“Which is the funniest part, you know? That women love this part, more than men anyway. I mean, you’ll never find a man cooing over simple onesies, you just won’t. Especially someone-- Especially Harper. I mean, ten years ago, Harper barely knew what he would wear in a day and if it would be clean or not-- now he’s having a baby with a woman he’s known well under a few years--” The gesture with the fork quickly turned into stabbing. “It’s just funny. All too hilarious, really. How-- How women can spend their whole lives with one goal, and just-- you know-- never accomplish it. Yet a man says, ‘Hey, look at me change within a couple of years, and boom, look at the pleasant surprise and present I get for being a nice guy now.” Shaking her head, Harmony then blew some of her bangs out of her face. A little laugh let her throat as she slowed the stabbing motion. Her eyes caught on the baby clothes again. “You can spend your whole life doing something entirely write, do everything by the book and hope for a break and-- then one day, everything can change. Everything you worked so hard for can be taken right from you without so much as a ‘goodbye.’” Her eyes shot back down quickly, toward the salad.

Harmony thought her plan was a good one. Her plan was solid. In order to get what her parents got, she was to keep her eyes on the prize. All she’d ever hoped for in her life was to be loved. Loved unconditionally, appreciated, respected, acknowledged. Maybe it was more complicated than that, right? Because she did everything right. She didn’t let her bullies tear her down, Harper did. She didn’t drop out of college, Harper did. She didn’t have sex young, Harper did. She lost her virginity to someone she loved, Harper admitted to never even knowing the woman he slept with at just fourteen. She fell in love with Trevor, whom she once considered her soulmate. Trevor, despite his infidelities that one time, was perfect for her. Or so she thought. She forgave him, they got back together. They graduated, and traveled the world. Harmony had a plan, a plan to see everything so that when she had her family she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. She would be a mom, a wife, and that would be enough. And yet, her plan failed. Her plan backfired and her progress crumbled within an hour. Trevor wanted to continue traveling a couple of years back; Trevor moved to France, Harmony to America; Trevor is now dating all over again. That’s all it was, she supposed.

Because here she was, lonely in Virginia. There was no ring, no children. All Harmony had these days were the broken pieces of a shattered image of a girl with a plan. All it took for her reflect on every moment leading up to her current life was knitted baby clothes. Hats, socks, onesies. All Harmony needed to realize that her one wish in life had to be put on hold for more years to come. She wasn’t like Harper, who only needed a couple of months before deciding on an engagement then marriage then a baby. Harmony was an Aromantic, who needed to genuinely fall for someone on a romantic level more than platonic. She could get friendly interaction any day of the week. But to feel romance and that “spark” for anyone, that took years of trust and development and affirmation. She was a fragile girl with fragile feelings. Though this order of baby items held good intention, a part of her resented the sentiment. Because this is what happened to her, every time children and babies and marriage came up. Harmony didn’t avoid those things, per say, but this is what they did to her. Those things, her plan, reminded Harmony of everything she was never promised- by a man who just wanted to continue traveling.

[hellomissowens]

Jackson's (Wonderful) Emporium & Hugo | Harmony + Benji

[itsbenjijackson]

Harmony’s little bounce brought a smile that spread across his features, becoming a grin— the sort that only really occurred when he wanted to laugh, and very nearly did. It was just so happy, enthusiastic, that it made him smile too. So many things did make him smile, which perhaps wasn’t as obvious as it might be in other people, because often nobody was there to see him smile, but it was true. He was easy to please, easy to make smile or be happy, despite quite how serious as he might originally seem.

He did actually let out a chuckle at her reaction to Hugo’s sheer size, unable not to laugh. He generally did get a good reaction, with some people even originally thinking he was some species of wild cat (actually, he’d had the threat of a health and safety warning bestowed upon him from that particular man) or just stumbling upon the giant cat.

'Uh— You're not wrong, he is pretty big. He's huge, but he's… Particularly clever, hence Hugo,' he smiled, raising a brow slightly in amusement. 'He does go— Well, he goes nuts for catnip, though, or at least, he did when he was younger. Loved it. ' He watched as she interacted with the cat, half curious for his reaction and half watching that she wouldn't get scratched (whilst cats were unpredictable, it was fairly easy to tell when the claws were being prepped), as he consumed another mouthful of his pasta, wrinkling his nose at the taste. Harmony's cookies sounded better, but he had to eat this, especially now it was opened. 'Oh, um, my bed is usually claimed by the time I go to sleep, if, um, I manage go to sleep. I'm— I'm not so good at that part of living,' he chuckled, making small gestures with his plastic fork as he spoke. It wasn't untrue. Benji's sleeping was iffy at best, and without taking melatonin, he would only be able to get a couple of hours sleep on his own— and even then, it wouldn't exactly be quality. 'Oh— Um, yes, you can pet him. He likes you.'

Words were proven as Hugo came closer to Harmony, pushing his head up into her outstretched hand and purring loudly as he walked around under it, arching his back through his tail so that he was, in all true effect, being stroked. This sort of behaviour, as a rule, tended to be reserved for familiar people, really; store regulars, Benji and his parents were the prime examples. Children, the cat would allow to pet him, but would inevitably get a hiss if they went about his fur or his tail the wrong way. All this combined, Hugo was a friendly enough cat, but wouldn’t push for affection from strangers— except, perhaps, for now. That was how the surprised, and sort of confused, expression that Benji wore could be explained.

The fact that it turned attentive could be explained just by the fact he was being spoken to, and he nodded along, quite content to listen before he vocalised his own thoughts. ‘It’s a business, um, yes, but— You’re.. Not interrupting. It’s not exactly, well, busy, is it?’ He smiled warmly, his efforts going to make sure that the woman felt comfortable. He knew how bad it was to feel like you weren’t supposed to be somewhere or say something, and his store was never intended to feel that way. It was supposed to feel comforting, warm, nearly like a home. ‘Of course I rememb— You have? Wow, that’s.. Pretty amazing, actually, Harmony. I’m going to assume you’re, um, going to adopt, then?’

[hellomissowens]

Harmony took a large chunk of her time with Hugo, half listening to Benji the best she could but also found herself completely mesmerized by the large cat. Despite all the warning and tidbits of complaints from Benji, she couldn’t help but feel grateful Hugo was showing her some interest. In all realness, Harm did pretty well with cats. One in particular, which she met almost three years ago in Romania, was an aggressive cat named Ollie. Ollie was a feral-like cat, halfly coming onto the grounds of a farm and disappearing when too many people were on sight. Yet Ollie and Harmony got along well. He would watch her from behind bushes as she watered plants. On top of that, he would allow her to feed him- which, according to the farm land owner, was a first for anyone other than herself- snacks and even cat food.

So, happily, the woman allowed Hugo to merely do his own thing. Sniff, investigate, pull back, force forward, whatever he wanted. Harmony left her hand mid-air, completely stiff, and looked back to Benji as he explained Hugo’s past interaction with cat-nip. Harm smiled, “I happen to love his name, but it’s alright if he doesn’t like this one or anything. You can just-- I don’t know-- throw it away or leave it for the strays or something. I won’t be, you know, offended. Or anything.” Giving a single nod, Harm looked back to Hugo and chuckled. “I’m sorry you don’t sleep well though, I bet that must be exhausting.” Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she was talking to Benji. “I don’t think I’d do well without, at least, six hours of rest. Anything less than that ruins my body clock. So, I’m sorry.”

The only reason Harmony was able to sympathize had to do with the many hours of sleep she’d lost once upon a time. In her childhood, it’d been very difficult to sleep at night. Thinking about the things fellow classmates whispered behind her back, or done directly in front of her as a “prank”, created much insomnia. Wondering what would happen the next day would be the very reason she couldn’t sleep at all. Then, after breaking up with Trevor, it was difficult to do anything. Getting up after sleeping, eating a full meal, getting dressed, anything. Harmony fell into a major depressive lifestyle during her stay in Montana, but was lucky enough to more or less crawl out of it. Harmony wouldn’t allow a broken relationship to define her, just like she agreed bullying would not do. Potentially, she could have a lot to lose sleep over, but would never allow that to be.

Snapping out of her own thought process, Hugo eventually abandoning her, Harmony made eye contact with Benji again. A smile still placed on her face, the woman nodded along and tried not to laugh as he explained her not interrupting. She turned to examine the empty store and sighed. The amount of value she found in this place was astounding. The business should’ve been booming, but it just wasn’t. “Their loss, right?” Harm told him matter-of-factly. “You’re right, and you know, I’m early anyway. Who knows what it’ll look like in a couple of hours, right?” Optimism, as per usual with Harmony Owens. “But yeah, yep. I have an agency and everything. They’ve got some Crows and Ravens coming in, two weeks from now, from California. They’re going to let me adopt one of them.” She finished with a nod. “I was wondering… if you’d be interested in coming with?”

[hayden-connolly-deactivated2014]

extreme behaviour [hayden + harmony]

[hayden-connolly-deactivated2014]

The weight of the dog tags laying beneath the collar of his shirt felt heavy on Hayden’s skin. They felt like they were burning his skin, branding their raised, metal edges into his chest and leaving an imprint where they lay. He didn’t wear them often. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of them or that he didn’t like them, but he didn’t like the questions that would arise when someone spotted them over his shirt, when someone knew what they meant and that they were real. They always thanked him for his service; Hayden thought that was the hardest part. Sometimes he just stared blankly in return. Sometimes he asked why the hell they were thanking him, when all he’d done was fight a war across the ocean and on different land.

At best, he had mixed feelings about his years of service with the Marines. He’d joined to prove something, but by the time he’d turned thirty he just felt like he had lost parts of it. Had he even done what he’d said he’d do? Prove that he could, and would, do something outside of his family, something that mattered? Not being so easily swayed by the gavel of morality had a lot to do with his mixed emotions, and he knew it. His father was proud of him for what he’d did, in a way where he was a patriot and believed that what Hayden had done had helped, but somehow Hayden just couldn’t see it in the black and white terms most of his family did.

His mouth twitched and he towards the woman. “I don’t have any secrets,” he said, giving a lazy shrug. It was true, at least. He didn’t have any secrets. Just quiet, warped thoughts that he never put into words and let out into the open air. “I’m wasn’t too worried about you finding any of them either.”

Hayden looked the woman over carefully, eyes scrutinizing her appearance before he shrugged again and looked away. She didn’t seem that dangerous to him. She seemed lonely, if he were being honest, but he wouldn’t hand out that opinion without provocation. Hayden knew a lot about loneliness. He knew a lot about not wanting other people to know he was lonely, and not wanting people to point it out. People didn’t just set out to drink at absolutely ungodly hours of the night unless they were looking for something to curb their loneliness or were alcoholics. Even with the latter, most of the alcoholics Hayden knew tended to drink at home instead of at bars. It was cheaper that way.

“Looks have nothing to do with it, y’know? You could be hiding a knife, or even a gun, and that would make you more threatening than me.” She probably wasn’t, but it was true. Hayden had his bare hands and his wits, but against a weapon, he’d clearly be on the defensive. He didn’t think she was hiding something on her person. She seemed far too soft for it. “I don’t think you are, for the record,” he said, hint of a smile pulling at his mouth.

She talked a lot more than Hayden was used to from a stranger, but he didn’t mind so much. People who knew Hayden knew that he wasn’t a talker. His boss and his coworkers knew he didn’t say words unless he had to, unless there was some meaning behind them. His father, he was sure, could see the difference between him now and him before. It was like that with almost everything. There was a line in the sand where Hayden had once stood and where he stood now, and even he could see the massive changes that had been put into affect long before he had actually stepped foot onto American soil again. The gaps between his tours didn’t mean much. They were just killing time, waiting it out until he was called for duty again. Maybe that was why it had been so much easier to pretend like he wasn’t in agony most of the time.

The quietness that settled between them felt like snow to Hayden. Cold and soft, easily melted away by the tension and the need to talk. Silence wasn’t something that made Hayden uncomfortable, but it clearly wasn’t something that the woman was up to. Stopping, he turned to look at her, an eyebrow lifting as he eyes slipped down to her extended hand, rolling her name over in his mind as he listened to her. Harmony Owens was a complete inconspicuous name that he had never heard of. Somehow it fit the woman.

Hayden stared at her hand for a moment before taking it, giving it a firm shake before pulling away again. It was the most physical contact he’d had in nearly a week and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “Hayden,” he said. “My name’s Hayden.” His lips twitched again. “I’m not a murderer or a robber or anything of the sort. I’m a security guard. And I don’t plan on – doing something to you and I don’t mind being used.”

[hellomissowens]

Hayden was probably the most monotone and content person Harmony had ever come across. Which said more about her than it did him. Rather than mingling with the calmest of people, she always challenged herself to the talkative- outgoing- type. It was just how she was, it’s who her parents wanted her to be. Harm stayed away from those with lack of words. Why? Well, it made her feel annoying. Obviously, she was a talker. She couldn’t just stay quiet, and being around those who could made her a little insecure. And with those colliding personality types, she merely avoided being annoying and making the other person feel uncomfortable. Though something in her felt as if Hayden was not uncomfortable. Perhaps that was what she wanted to believe for her own piece of mind, but the vibe she received didn’t seem as if he were being standoffish. Just… content.

Growing up, Harmony didn’t make any friends. Well, not that she didn’t want them (it was the exact opposite), just more along the lines of people wanting nothing to do with her. Kids at the time would brush her off, scoff at her attempts at being friendly. And at this point in her life, she knew the difference between simply trying to make a friend and trying too hard to make someone make her a friend. Hayden wasn’t her friend, but he was company. Which was something she longed for here in Virginia. As happy as Harm was to move here, it’d been lonely. This was all so new to her. When she was with Trevor, it was easy to crutch on his friendliness. People liked Trevor, he was social and had a great smile. So Harmony took advantage of both being his mate, and making friends through him. Nowadays, for the past year or so, she’s had to attempt socializing all on her own again. It was tough.

So as Hayden denied having secrets, a big part of Harmony didn’t believe him. She wanted to tell him that everybody had secrets, everybody had things they’d never admit aloud. It was okay to have those kinds of thoughts. But she resisted, merely nodding along in agreement. Harmony told him she wouldn’t pry, and that meant not harping or arguing. She was maternal like that, always concerned and willing to help, but figured Hayden wouldn’t want hear any of what she was thinking on the matter. Fuck, Harmony is annoying, isn’t she? - So sure of things, but always unsure of herself and social cues. That is what one might consider a walking contradiction.

At his explanation though, the woman couldn’t help but laugh a little louder than usual. A gun or knife? “Okay, yeah, you’re definitely kidding now; you have to be,” Harmony said matter-of-factly. “It’s almost like I’m being set up to admit things that could put me in compromising positions… But… I’ve never held a knife before-- Well, no, that’s untrue. I’ve held, like, food knives. I was instructed to hold a machete once a man finished breaking open a coconut. I felt so uncomfortable though, it was-- I’d probably never hold a knife again. And guns, I haven’t even worked one let alone been in the presence of one.” It was weird to admit these things aloud, but they were the truth. Harmony was more than soft, she was fragile. Experiencing those types of things, guns and knives and violent acts, it would shatter her whole existence. “So, I don’t know, looks may have nothing to do with it, but how I appear has everything to do with what I’ve avoided exposing myself to.” She added with a nod.

Finally, a name. Undeniably, Harmony’s wall came down a little bit more. The woman happily shook Hayden’s hand and smiled politely. “Well, good. That’s good to know.” She replied in response to him not being a murderer or anything of the sort. “Perhaps you’re the safest Hayden I met then.” Which Harm had no problem admitting aloud. “There was a girl in middle school I knew, her name was Hayden. She was a cheerleader, and gymnast and all of that. Super popular. Hayden lived next to my grandparent’s home in Montana, but would never talk to me. Unless-- Unless she was insulting my outfit or something.” Hayden Roberts wasn’t the rudest girl Harmony’d come across in her childhood, but definitely up in the top five who spent their free time harassing her. “Oh, then there was Hayden, a boy, I knew in Junior year. He was, like, pretty emo. Total scene and wore eyeliner. He was my brother’s friend. He was kinda nice. Nicer than girl Hayden.” Harm nodded, then glanced to the Hayden before her. “Definitely not safer than you though. He was pretty sketchy.”

[philosophy-quotes]

When I was 5 years old, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘a leaf’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.

Meelo

[sempre-eterno-deactivated201902]

Visit Original Link

[hellomissowens]

The cold white sheets On my empty bed Far too big of a space For the state I’m in There’s nothing going on In my empty head Far too small of a space For the books I’ve read To remain

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Knight in Knitted Armor ▿ Adam & Harmony

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Dear god, this was going so much better than planned — and it had barely begun! It was so much better than what Adam had expected! Here he was, sitting in his shop, feeling both proud and humbled with the kind words that left Harmony’s lips, while she sat before him with a ready smile on her face, welcoming and encouraging, so unlike the way Breanah had looked at him. With the way his last meeting with Breanah had gone, Adam was of a mind to believe that this meeting with Harmony Owens would go the same horrible path. Yet, everything about her only proved him wrong: from the way she sat down before him with a shy smile on her lips, to the way she had even thought of him and brought him food, and down to the way she constantly thanked him and reminded him what a pleasure this was!

And maybe that  was the thing that made it so much better: Harmony’s words; the way she seemed just as excited about this as he was; the way she seemed actually thankful for what he did. It was, by far, the best thing about all this. All of Adam’s life, he had heard nothing but nasty comments about what he did — and enjoyed — from the people he cared about. To his father, this was a woman’s job; Adam should not be sitting around doing what a woman should do. To his younger brother Alex, knitting was not only a woman’s job, but a little girl’s — or an old lady’s! He made fun of Adam for where the older boy could not run, or jump, or skip, or catch the way a boy was supposed to. To his younger twin sisters Sierra and Sage, he was a joke; they never truly said it outright, but he had looked into their eyes enough to know what they thought of him. And to his mother? Well, she was kinder than most. Kinder than most, but not quite kind enough. She loved him for the things he enjoyed — things that a ‘boy his age’ shouldn’t be doing —, yet nevertheless tried to get him out into the field, to do what his brother did; to like what he did not like; to be like the rest of the boys his age.

Now he sat before a person who thanked him for what he did, who not only liked what he did but also appreciated it. It dawned on Adam in that moment that maybe he had been starved for attention all his life — all his thirty years of living —, and that maybe he had moved on from all that and told himself that he no longer cared for what others thought of what he did with his life, but it was nice. It was nice to hear that someone appreciated his work, and he was not about to deny himself this once it was here and handed to him on a plate. And maybe that was the catch: that he did not know how nice it was to be appreciated for what he did — and loved — until someone finally appreciated him; that he did not know how nice it felt to share the joy of a hobby with someone until there was finally someone to share it with. The smile on Adam’s face only widened with every word that came from Harmony, as if it were powered from the very excitement that radiated off her. He had enough excitement within himself, but it was hers that powered his, almost as if like the catalyst that he did not know he needed all along.

At Harmony’s instruction, Adam grabbed the bag beside him; the smile never once left his lips. “Thank you, too,” he said as he put what he’d made on the table before them, the better to let Harmony see and give her verdict. “Thank you for trusting me with so much. And meeting up with you is no problem at all! I want you to see the progress, just for you to check whether you still want to push through or not, seeing as you did order quite a lot! And I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” Every so often, as he spoke and put five newborn socks, three newborn blankets, and one newborn hat on the table, Adam would look up to meet Harmony’s gaze and smile, just to make sure that she was still with him. It was not only a proper social grace to keep eye contact with one’s conversational partner, but also a way for Adam to check for Harmony’s reaction as he put out the contents of his bag on the table — contents that were his work; contents that were not only for Harmony, but also something she was paying for.

“Well, like I said — I haven’t finished everything,” Adam began once everything was set on the table. Only then did the nervousness sink in. Only then did the fear of rejection — of anything negative that might come from Harmony — finally made its way to Adam’s mind. What if she did not like the colors? What if there was something in the things he’d made that she found unpleasing? Would she have come all this way for something she did not like? Did he make all her efforts go to waste by showing her something that she no longer wanted? The smile nevertheless stayed on Adam’s lips, never once allowing the fear to seep through his features the way it had seeped through his mind. “But I did finish these, and so — what do you think?” Adam paused to allow Harmony a way for thought, but not quite enough to actually allow her to speak. “I mean, I could change them if you don’t like them. I have time! I mean — if you want to push through! If you want! I mean — you know!” Adam flushed in his seat. “Heh, I’m rambling. You should…. you should tell me what you think!”

[hellomissowens]

This was supposed to be an innocent, harmless, preview of all the things Harmony ordered from Adam. It was a simple list of objects, nothing too special or over the top. Adam had done an amazing job, not to mention getting things done in such a timely fashion. If Harmony had the opportunity to do this all over again, it would be done without even the slightest of a doubt. This wasn’t something she’d allow herself to do often, go to crafters, but Adam was trustworthy. She would never have a problem returning for business. Meeting him at The Pie Hole would definitely be the best part of it all, if it meant she could potentially get another slice of pie again. Harmony was all smiles, from the moment she pulled into the parking lot in front of The Pie Hole and up until the moment before Adam pulled out those newborn clothes.

As those tiny little items were placed on the table before Harmony, it’d been as if the woman became frozen in time. There was no saving her. She peered over the clothes in pure awe. They were, not only amazing, but absolutely adorable. Any baby would be lucky to have those. They didn’t appear to be itchy or too small or big. These items were perfect. Which is entirely why Harmony was completely paused. A bit of her felt so hurt and broken. To think that Harper’s baby would be arriving soon- that her nephew would be wearing those in such a short amount of time- Harmony felt the anxiety boil within her. Oh, how bad she wanted a family; her own reason for gushing over these knitted goodies. At some point in her examining them, Harm subconsciously allowed her jaw to drop slightly. Taking one of the onesies into her hands, she became lost.

Babies. Harmony loved babies. All she’d ever wanted since turning twenty-five was a child of her own. Back in Europe, where she’d resided alongside Trevor, Harm thought of the future very often. She imagined living in either Montana or Washington, with him as her husband, with a baby on the way. Back at twenty-five, when she laid next to Trevor, she envisioned the very day she’d discover all her symptoms and cheerfully announce her pregnancy to Trevor. Yet in all the years Harmony and Trevor were together, not once did the boy stop using a condom; not once did Harmony stop taking her birth control. The conversation of marriage and children never came up. Rather, where they would fly to next was the most important thing.

Harmony would be a good mother, she know she would. As she held the onesie in her hands, she couldn’t help but feel that pinch of resentment toward Harper, her older brother. He was only a couple years older, but has been through hell and back with drugs, alcohol, rehab, jail time. What had he done to deserve the life he received? Most of his twenties had been spent in jail and on probation and in rehab. Harmony, on the other hand, had done everything right. She went to school and obtained her degrees; she found the love of her life; she traveled and explored before settling. And yet, here she was, at thirty-one. In Alexandria, Virginia, alone. She was at The Pie Hole, with Adam, holding a onesie that would belong to her brother’s first baby. Not her.

Taking a deep, low, breath, the woman cleared her throat and set the knitted onesie back onto the table. Half smiling, she glanced at Adam. “It’s-- It looks great.” She finally replied. Perhaps it wasn’t what he asked; in all honesty, she hadn’t caught anything he said, but figured he had to be waiting for her praise. Harmony didn’t have it in her to really pay attention. If anything, she wanted more than anything to do the exact opposite. “It’s all great,” The woman repeated half-heartedly. Grabbing the salad to replace it back into her lap, Harmony used the fork to move some of the lettuce and tomatoes around. Very much still in thought, she felt nothing, but rather her imagination had guided her to the place of thoughts. Thoughts of a baby, thoughts of the future she’d always wanted.

[brenna-jackson]

A Pair of History Dorks | Harmony & Brenna

[brenna-jackson]

There was clearly something that changed in the woman’s demeanor when Brenna mentioned Henry and Grace, so he redhead made a mental note not to bring them up again unless it was absolutely vital.  Somehow she doubted it would be.  After all, she didn’t know this woman at all and the odds were high that she would probably never see her again.  That was just the way the world worked.  Unfortunate, but it was the truth.  Of course, that wasn’t to say that they might not really hit it off and become friends.  There was always that chance.

Brenna couldn’t help but agree with the other woman when she spoke.  Everything she was saying was true.  It was easy to see that.  However, the mental image of these grown men arguing like a bunch of teenagers over their chores was far too amusing.  She couldn’t help the small smile that crept across her lips.  It was simply a far too priceless image and she wasn’t ready to let go of it.  “Unfortunately you may be right,” Brenna sighed, “but that doesn’t mean we have to like it.”  She hated it.  If people would only open their eyes and listen to the world around them, they’d get so much more accomplished in such a short amount of time.  The fact that all the lawyers did was try to find loop holes and prove the other person wrong in the most obscure ways drove Brenna insane.  It was a very good thing she didn’t go to law school like she had thought about when she was younger.  It wouldn’t have worked out well, and even worse was the fact that she had no passion for it.  That was what would have been the real problem.

 In was good to hear that the visit to the Archives had helped change this woman’s mind about American history.  That was exactly what most people needed, to have their eyes opened.  “Well I’m thrilled to know it helped give you a better view of it,” she replied cheerfully.  “If you’re a teacher you definitely should bring your students.  We have class tours quite frequently here and most of the teachers report back saying the students both enjoyed it and learned something.  That’s always a plus.”  Brenna was rarely involved in those and left them to the tour guides, but that was irrelevant.  “I grew up all around this stuff.  My mom worked at the Smithsonian so just being around so much interesting stuff as a child really helped me expand my world and find my area of interest.”  It was true.  In fact, Brenna’s mother still worked at the Smithsonian and Brenna still went there whenever she had a little free time.  It was just that childhood nostalgia constantly pulling her back in.

[hellomissowens]

It had to be acknowledged that nearly everyone, at one point or another, wanted to be a lawyer of some sort when they were a child. Back then, lawyers were looked up to. In addition to fighting a -what was considered- noble cause, they did get paid decently. Harmony remembered being in fourth grade when quite a few of her fellow classmates showed up with lawyer parents on career day. Surprise and curiosity played on her emotions, she wanted to be like them. Back then her own mother was a ballet instructor while her father worked on construction sites. So it was no surprise these other careers intrigued. Lawyers fought for someone; for something. Harmony herself lacked the confidence, back then, to speak up if someone cut her in the lunch line. What she’d give to have that lawyer mentality.

Eventually, later on in life, Harmony realized that she didn’t have what it took to be lawyer. She grew up mousy, not that argumentative. Of course, the older she got the easier it was to realize that was not a bad thing. Lawyers, to her now, came with this sense of entitlement. Though they came be helpful, there were more than a handful of them who manipulated the law to help their clients beat the judicial system. And that, that Harmony did not tolerate. So she nodded quickly at the other woman’s reply. There was no arguing that point. “Oh yeah, you don’t even know. I go home at night and just… scowl. I shake my fist and grumble about those lawyers.” She added jokingly. It wasn’t meant to be sarcastic, just a way to lighten the mood of it all.

“Me too though,” Harm replied eagerly, nodding some more. In all honesty, she could’ve have gone a longer time without coming to this museum. Had she not picked becoming a teacher, there wouldn’t really be a need to be in this building. Harmony would rather be in Germany or Poland; Europe in general. They had so much history over there, a piece of history Harm enjoyed learning. Yet she was here, in America, and as a World History teacher, she had to learn about just that: the world. As the woman explained the tours for this museum, Harm became a little more excited. “Really? Well… Wow… That sounds like a plan I need to consider honestly,” She added with a low sigh. “I’ve been to the smithsonian too, only once, but a part of me believes more than half my students have not.”

[hayden-connolly-deactivated2014]

the priest and the matador [hayden + harmony]

[hayden-connolly-deactivated2014]

Everything hurt. Every part of his body that had been hit hurt. The shoulder that had been shoved against the wall with a force that had knocked him off balance hurt like a son of a bitch. The place on his ribs that had been nicked by the sharp edge of a knife really fucking hurt, and his face felt like it was throbbing in time with his heart beats. He was in pain, and all he really wanted to do was lay down and hope that it went away when he woke up.

Hayden knew that he was too old to be getting into bar fights. His father had never had to bail him out of one before, but he hadn’t gotten into one that had needed police before. It had been friendly fights that had broken out because their was too much pent-up energy and emotions, and men in tight spaces could do dumb things when allowed to wander out on their own. He’d fought and brawled, hurled insults at other men and then shook hands when it was over. He sure as fuck had never been knifed before. That was a new one that no one had prepared him for. As far as Hayden could tell, people didn’t actually bring knives to fist fights unless it was in the movies or on late night TV. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

When he heard his name, he stiffened, hand flattening against the cut on his side as he shoulders tensed. Hayden didn’t know many people in Alexandria. He’d done that purposefully, maybe, or maybe it had been the fact that his personality was that of paint drying on a wall (albeit insults written in the drying paint). Either way, he liked it that way. It made it easier to keep track of the people who knew his name and whatever little white lies he told them to get through the day. There were people from work that knew his name and short life story, people that he worked with on a contract level and people he knew from around his neighbourhood that he had only spoken to in passing.

Any way it was put, his name being called out by someone – a woman – wasn’t going to bode well for him. He looked like he’d just been fucked over by a train with a ring on each hand and he knew it. For a moment, he wondered if he could get away with hobbling down the street and not looking back, but when he heard his name a second time, he nixed the idea. It would be embarrassing at best and disastrous at worst. Jaw tight and hand curled into a fist, he slowly turned to look at the person.

“…you gotta be fuckin’ with me,” he said, choking on a humourless laugh as he looked over Harmony. He remembered her, of course, but he hadn’t thought he’d ever actually run into her again. Out of curiosity, he had Googled her name when he had gotten home that night. A high school teacher who probably wasn’t equipped to deal with bruised and battered men. He shook his head, lips twitching a the corners as he rubbed his knuckles underneath his nose, catching the dribble of blood from spilling onto his lips. “It’s good to see you again, Harm.”

It wasn’t. At least, not in this type of situation. All he wanted to do was get home and get to the first aid kit he had stashed under his bathroom sink, sit on the edge of the tub and stitch himself up again before showering the crusted blood off his skin and falling into bed after a few ibuprofen. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to deal with someone asking questions.

Scratch that. He knew he didn’t want to deal with someone asking questions.

He considered her words for a moment, glancing over his shoulder and down the street. It wasn’t that far to his own rented house, but it was far enough that he would probably be in more pain than he wanted to be by the time he would get there. He looked back to Harmony. “If you’re car’s somewhere within a hundred feet, you can drive me home.”

[hellomissowens]

Hayden turned around. The more he turned, the more Harm’s stomach turned.

Her eyes were wide and filled with fear, examining every inch of Hayden. She was in pure shock, and with good reason too. This was the first time Harmony ever had to see anyone like this. Despite attending three funerals all under the age of twenty-four, those bodies were not beaten or mangled. Those dead bodies were just… lifeless. Her grandparents and father looked like they were sleeping, peacefully at that. Those images were easy ones to digest. As Harmony stared at Hayden though, this would be a mental image the woman could never erase.

Hayden looked deader than any dead body Harmony had ever seen. How he was even standing right now surprised her. If it were her, she’d be on the ground crying. Cuts, forming bruises, a swollen eye, dripping blood. He was hunched over, appearing to be holding himself up by just the grip on his ribs. Had he been fighting? Was he just beaten up for money or valuables? What the hell happened here? Harmony didn’t have the heart to question him. But she figured, if he’d gotten this way from a robbery, Hayden would be much more disoriented, right?

After he fully turned and made his remark, that humorless laugh didn’t go unnoticed with Harmony. There was something cynical in the way he muttered his words, which caused the woman fold her arms over in defense. It wasn’t the cold Virginia air that nipped at her and gave her the need to cover herself. No. It was Hayden and his tone. Had she been in this situation, Harm would have been relieved to run into someone. Help was a strong word- very few people really acknowledge the power behind helping, and what it takes for someone to assist.

Though Harmony felt inclined to help, she was skeptical. His words continued to make her knees buckle nervously. Obviously Hayden could’ve been saying that to be polite, or even sarcastic, but in no way did he say that with relief or hopefulness. Harm didn’t know him well, of course. But she could feel it. “Is it really?” She muttered rhetorically, tilting her head. Shocked and frozen, Harm stood in her place. She felt as if moving would cause him to crumble or something. She didn’t know why she was looking at him like she’d witnessed a zombie walking, but that’s just what it felt like to her.

Nodding quickly as Hayden mentioned a car being around, Harmony pointed rather eagerly at her Ford Focus parked just a half mile down the road. “Yeah, I was just-- out-- and I was on my way home but I can--” She continued to nod spastically. Taking a step forward, finally, toward Hayden. “I want to help you.” Apprehensively, Harm hesitated her physical contact. She didn’t know how Hayden would react to contact and didn’t force anything on him.

“I’m-- I’m gonna… Um...” Swallowing thickly, she watched as her fingertips did this weird dance in the air around Hayden. “Can you walk on your own or… do you need help or…?”

[hayden-connolly-deactivated2014]

extreme behaviour [hayden + harmony]

[hayden-connolly-deactivated2014]

Hayden cocked an eyebrow. “That wasn’t a serious thing,” he said. “Deep, dark secrets are meant to be kept just that – secrets. Wouldn’t do much good to share them with anyone and everyone, would it?”

He had enough secrets to last him a lifetime. Maybe not secrets, per say, but he had those too. His vague sexuality, his parentage. The fact that his father wasn’t even his actual father, but an uncle who had been burdened with his birth because his real father was a drug addict who couldn’t handle himself. Uncle Noah was his uncle; Hayden had a hard time thinking of him as his father, even if he’d been the one to donate his spunk nine months before he’d been born. That was a secret, maybe, because he never shared that piece of information with anyone. He didn’t see a point in it because he didn’t think of Eric as anything but his father.

That could be crossed off the list as a deep, dark secret. What did he have that he would keep buried down? His lack of sleep in the past few weeks. His inability to handle the most basic of casual touches during conversation. Flinching and twisting away from people who tried to tap his shoulder. But those weren’t really secrets. Just defects that he hadn’t gotten a handle on just yet. War wasn’t a big secret to anyone, either. They could Google his name and they’d get his picture, his hair neatly trimmed and slicked back, his nose a little less crooked and his face a whole less scarred, his uniform orderly. As far as Hayden was aware, he didn’t have any deep, dark, hidden secrets that he kept from the world.

Not talk. How was someone supposed to not talk with another person? Hayden lifted both eyebrows as he leaned back, a palm on the bar top as he watched the woman. She was chatty, almost nervous in the way she spit out more words than Hayden had probably spoken all day. He still didn’t know her name, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to. People were fickle creations, something that Hayden hadn’t yet mastered since he’d stepped off the plane and been re-welcomed onto American soil. It was always different overseas; all anyone ever talked about was what they were going to do when their tour was over, when they got home and finally got free of their uniform and the gunfire. Being back was an entirely different thing.

Hayden stared after the woman, lips parted. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Hayden wasn’t sure if the woman had just asked him to come back to her place for sex or if she was some nervous, would-be killer who wanted to stuff him in her chest freezer. Glancing from the bartender and back to the woman, he dug into his pocket for his wallet, throwing down a few bills to cover his tab and a tip, standing and walking towards her. He could admit his interest was piqued. If she was asking for sex, she was going to end up with a bruised ego, maybe, but even if she was just some psychopath who put on a nervous smile, he doubted there was much she could do to overpower him.

He followed her out the door, tongue pressed into the pocket of his cheek as he looked her over, pushing his wallet back into the lip of his pocket. “Is this the part where ya clock me on the head with an anvil and steal all my cash and cards?” he asked, the slightest of accents colouring his words as he glanced out into the near-empty parking lot.

[hellomissowens]

Harmony didn’t have to wait long to witness this stranger follow her lead. It made her smile a little bit, honestly. There was confidence to consider in this moment. Not very often did Harm leave people intrigued enough to come for her. “You’re right, by the way,” She admitted as she closed the door behind them. “Telling someone your secrets is an ironic thing to do, I think. So, I don’t know, if you’re worried about me bugging you, I’m not-- I won’t pry.”-- She bounced her head after some thought.-- “Or try to, anyway.” For an open, accepting, person like Harmony, she always questioned her way of being. Though the woman has always been considerably guarded, she could talk up a storm about, well, everything. That was her tactic for avoiding those other touchy topics. Like her past, for example.

In reality, she wanted to talk to this man on a surface-y level; she wanted to ask him his age, what his name was, what his hobbies were, how long he lived in Alexandria. Copy-and-paste questions that could potentially leave her rambling for hours. Harmony was that type of friendly- the harmless kind. There was something admittedly boring about being that way, but it was safe. Being like that was a good excuse to avoid the darker corners of Harm; parts of her mind even she refused to acknowledge. Even at the bar, they could have stayed, and she could’ve tried. Or she could have left; left him alone. The latter seemed ideal for the man, but not Harmony. Despite the whole ‘not talking’ speech she gave in the bar, the woman didn’t like being alone. Loneliness never failed to come with dwelling. And that, she did not want to do.

At the stranger’s question, Harmony could only hope he was being sarcastic. “You’re kidding, right? I am the least threatening person awake right now.”--She scoffed lightly and shook her head.--“So… No. No,” Harm replied eagerly to reassure him- as if he needed it or something. A part of her worried about him being serious though. This guy was a pretty big, tall, guy. To think anyone would even attempt mugging or fighting him? Let alone a woman Harm’s size? It was extremely hard to fathom. “Even if it were a yes, this would be my first time ever mugging someone. It wouldn’t be smart giving it a try on you.” God honest truth, she wouldn’t attempt that on anyone. Harm was weak, never really had a workout routine, and didn’t have any street smarts. “Doing something like that had the endgame of failing epically, hands down.”

Nonetheless, Harmony understood what the man’s question was really asking: What did she want with him? And, in all honesty, she was not completely willing to admit why she invited this total stranger out on the street with her in the first place. With a couple of blocks separating the bar’s location and her townhome, she could easily be setting her up for failure. Her mother, Claranette would be disappointed, times ten. Invitations like these got plenty of woman Harm’s age either killed brutally or missing for years. Or both. So, a part of her wondered if the stranger assumed they would have sex, or if maybe he was planning an opportunity to overpower a young inexperienced woman out this late. Harmony didn’t feel paranoid or worried though.

Harmony knew for a fact this wasn’t about sexual relations. The stranger was not like the other men in the bar before. He wasn’t groping her, offering to pay for her drinks, or even simply smiling at her. This guy didn’t tell her she was too pretty go home alone, and didn’t ask if she was single. Just like every guy before, and probably after, Trevor Arthur- there wasn’t any interest. Harmony Owens was a plain, ordinary girl. She didn’t hook up with strangers or just anyone in general. Her first kiss was with a girl who actually liked her back, then her 'first time' was with Trevor. And after both Mel and Trevor, the world went back to order. No one looked at her again. So, this time felt no different. People weren’t sexually attracted to her, and that was that.

Back to the main point, Harmony didn’t feel paranoid or worried. Not with this stranger. If he wanted to kill her or beat her up or harm her in anyway, he would have more than likely done it back when they passed that empty parking lot. All those nightcrawlers Harmony saw before entering the bar were gone, for the most part. This man had every opportunity to take her, unless he was merely waiting for them to reach her home. Either way, what grew in Harmony was fulfilling: Companionship. She wasn’t alone. Which essentially, was the Aromantic in her. She didn’t crave sexual attention or flirtation or… anything romantic. All the woman truly enjoyed was company, even if it meant short conversations and empty air.

But, what the hell, empty air felt awkward. Parting her lips to speak, Harm turned to the stranger and sighed. “Okay, I can’t-- I can’t not talk. So… I don’t know, at least let me introduce myself, okay?” She admitted, laughing breathlessly as she stopped in her place and extended her hand cautiously for a proper handshake. “I’m Harmony. Harmony Owens. And-- I may or may not be using you for a safe walk home? It's late and-- I-I don't know. I didn't want to be harassed. Which is ironic because- well- you could be a murderer or a robber or something in between and I could be really dumb trusting you-- but you seemed trustworthy so-- you know, I'm using you. I'm sorry.”

[callie-richards]

So My Dog is Weird

[callie-richards]

Lizards, huh? That’s a strange target…did you ex have a lot of lizards in the house as pets? See Eowyn is indifferent to squeaky toys, has been since the day I got her. Though maybe if I bring a baggie of dog treats and shake it that’ll catch her attention. The way to my dog’s heart is through her stomach.

[hellomissowens]

I don't know about all of that, to be honest. I met him freshman year of college, but he's had his dog long before that. Maybe they did, I don't know. Haha. Oh God, that's so cute! I know dogs are so unique, some? All you need is to call them or grab a toy, but others love being bribed with food. I know if I were a dog, I'd definitely choose the latter as well!

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Knight in Knitted Armor ▿ Adam & Harmony

[adamfarnsworth-blog]

Harmony Owens! Harmony Owens. The sound of it brought the smile on Adam’s face to widen, and caused the worry that had rippled through and through him in the hours beforehand to completely disappear. With the absence of worry came a surge of relief; a surge of relief that ran through him as Harmony — Harmony! This was Harmony! — shook his hand, and began to speak. Her words did nothing to suppress the relief that coursed through him; if anything, it caused the same hint of pride that always filled Adam whenever anyone complimented him on his shop. The Pie Hole, by far, was one of the things he was most proud about — if not, the thing that he was most proud about. The years that he’d tolerated in the kitchen while his step-father ridiculed him for doing a woman’s job, those afternoons that he spent baking when no one else would even care to look at him, and those that he’d spent baking after classes — even through his Metallurgical Engineering majors! — had not been there for nothing. At least Adam would like to believe. At least Adam would like to believe that they were worth it. And compliments like these — like the ones that Harmony gave him now — surely made them feel worth it. Compliments like these — like the ones that Harmony gave — surely made Adam’s heart swell with joy.

No matter how many compliments he had received over the years, and how many he continued to receive at present time, the joy that he received never once felt old; never once felt used. Just like the shop had, the joy had bloomed over the years, learning to appreciate more of what the people said, and learning to take more of their compliments and criticism as tidbits to grow and flourish. And, it was the same for that moment; Adam smiled a wide smile — one of humility, yet also one of pride — as Harmony commented not only about his shop, but also about him, and all the work he did. It was nice, sometimes: a little word of appreciation, a little word of affirmation. It was nice to hear others say it, though words like that always somehow brought from within Adam the young boy he had once been: a boy that had been so starved for attention; a boy that had been so deprived of it. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” Adam’s tone was just as kind and welcoming as Harmony’s, but obviously booming with humble pride — or was it proud humility? — with each word. “I couldn’t have done it without the help of a bank that gave me loans, and of course, my lovely waitress Olivia over there, who has been in this shop with me since it first stood here on King street!”

Adam always did mention Olivia, and he gestured to her. He would always mention Olivia, he knew, even if she should ever decide to leave The Pie Hole and venture out into new paths. She was his right-hand woman, and without her, nothing would have been possible. As he gestured towards his waitress, Adam’s eyes followed Harmony’s as they took in the sight of the shop, and the smile that he had never once left his lips. When the woman’s gaze came to meet his again, he only showed an acknowledging look, to say that he was taking in every word and action that came from her. However, a frown — not a negative one, though — quickly formed upon his features once he had heard Harmony’s next words, though after it did come a chuckle. “No, no! You have nothing to be sorry about,” he said in an understanding manner. “Life does get busy sometimes. And, no — please! Don’t feel the need to apologize because you had a life to attend to! I’m just here, y’know — I wasn’t going anywhere to begin with!”

The smile that was already on Adam’s lips widened again. Maybe it was too soon to call for judgment; maybe it was too soon to decide whether he liked Harmony as a person or not, but, it was the next of what she did — or, well, what she said, and that of what she had done — that became his deciding factor. And, Adam decided, that it was a definite yes. As he looked from her, to the bag that she was talking about, then to her again, the look on his face only grew with more and more appreciation for what she had done. Certainly, there was no need for this! Certainly, there was no need to think of him at all! There was little that Adam wanted, after all — and more often than not, it was to please others; and, as he searched for ways to please others, he often forgot that sometimes, others wanted to do the same thing. No matter how little or grand the gesture, it always came of a surprise to him when someone even thought of including him in their day! And how glad it made him feel! How the smile on his lips grew!

There was a tiny chuckle that escaped his lips before he finally answered. “I think that’d be great,” Adam said, no hint of hesitation or room for doubt in his tone. “You didn’t have to, really! I’m— wow! This is so nice of you! Really, you didn’t have to!” He chuckled again, but this time grabbed the bag of what he had finished for Harmony from where he stood behind the counter, and then walked out to meet her and lead her to a table by the side of the window. As they walked, Adam could not help but keep the smile on his face — a bright, happy, brilliant smile that lightened up his whole features. This meeting had not even started officially, and yet it was already going so much better than the meeting with Breanah. And thank god for that. Thank fucking god that this did not look like it was going to end — or, frankly, start — the same way that the meeting with Breanah had gone. For one, he hadn’t slept with Harmony before all this. And for another, she hadn’t lied to him about her identity. That, along with all the kindness that she brought with her, was definitely a good sign to Adam.

Adam took a seat on the couch opposite Harmony’s, the better to look at her and converse with her throughout the duration of their lunch meeting. Despite his excitement, he kept the bag of his creations beside him, not wanting to put it on the table just yet in case Harmony did not yet think it proper to do so. The excitement showed on his face though; he could not help but smile at her. “Well, you know what”—he began—”since we’re already here, I’ll have a slice of pie for you on the house. A slice of your choice! Anything that you’d like. Later, after we’re done with lunch.” Adam chuckled, then shook his head. “But, on that note, would you like to see what I’ve made now, or would you like to eat first?”

[hellomissowens]

Harmony knew what compliments did for people. In the era of rudeness, condescending tones, and brash statements, it was hard to find someone who genuinely didn’t mind uplifting others. People these days didn’t consider the gratitude and the joy of paying respect. Everyone demanded a pedestal; a soap box. Yet no one ever truly demanded credit or accolades for their hard work. When Harmony glanced around The Pie Hole, she knew this store didn’t come up from nothing. This little bakery had to be made, put together, and publicly open to criticism and compliments alike. Though she doubted Adam would be given a hard time for his accomplishment, it wasn’t entirely impossible. Food critics were the downfall to all things personally made. Food critics shut down family owned restaurants and bakeries and cafes. No one said it, but it was the truth.

So as Adam’s face brightened with the joy and bashfulness that came with being told his bakery was great, Harmony knew what she’d done. Encouragement was, essentially, all anyone truly wanted in this world. Harmony, herself, struggled to find support and encouragement. With her grandparents and father deceased, her mother and older brother in Montana, and the guy she thought she’d love forever all gone from her life? Well, she knew what it meant to have to have someone just give a proper, ‘good job’. Though Adam, of course, humbly accepted her compliment and mentioned his co-worker Olivia, Harmony simply nodded. She thought of how wonderful it’d be to have a friend, or even an accomplice through her time here in Virginia. Alexandria was nice and homey, more than Harm anticipated; but maybe she’d feel less lonely if she had an Olivia of her own. Maybe.

“You’re very welcome,” She finally replied to Adam with a polite smile. “I’m still glad everything worked out for you because, honestly, it’s not very common to find self-made bakeries anymore, you know? Everyone is all about convenience and packaging and hand sized and-- Seriously. I’m so amazed and really, this is all things to be proud of regardless, so.” Finishing off her rambling, Harm clasped her hands together and took in a deep breath. She couldn’t help herself. The place was refreshing to her, almost exhilarating. “I honestly haven’t been in a bakery since I was little girl.” She told him, but kept out the unneeded detail of how The Pie Hole made her feel on an emotional level. On one hand, it made her hungry; the other hand, it made her truly nostalgic. Her grandfather, Thomas, took her to a nearby bakery in Billings all the time. It was a great little shop, the one he knew of, that gave out free cookie dough on Saturdays, then free baking lessons on Sunday.

A place like that would remain engraved in anyone’s memory. Though it shut down nearly fourteen years ago, Harmony remembered the bakery all too well, but subsided those irrelevant thoughts in hopes of keeping up with Adam conversation wise. After his reassurance that everything was okay on his end as to why Harm didn’t reply to him, she eased her shoulders into a more relaxed position. A deep exhale subtly happened within her, and she tilted her head some. “That’s a relief, I was worried a little. I wanted to come today and I’m glad I did. A lot of what I wanted to get done today got transferred over to tomorrow, so I’m happy we’re both here!” She added happily, digressing the conversation altogether as she followed Adam over to a sitting area. Now, it was time to get down to business. Harmony happily joined him, but didn’t forget what her originally visit was for.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I couldn’t resist,” Harmony bounced shyly as she took her seat on the couch opposite to Adam’s. It was comfortable, but she did her best to keep herself on the edge of it. Harmony was here in pencil skirt short than her usual (by usual, it would be the ones she was allowed to wear to work) and didn’t want to fall too deeply into the couch. After finding a comfortable position, Harm crossed one leg over the other and put her hands back together right on her lap. “I just hope you like cobb salad, and lemonade. That’s kinda all they had this late.” She explained as she pulled the two containers and drinks out of the bag. Though, at Adam’s question, she slowed down her movements. Whoops, perhaps too eager to eat? Harmony blushed and laughed awkwardly. “Oh--” She mumbled, tucking in her lips. “Well, I can wait to eat.”

Using her fingers to pull some of her loose hair away from her face, she gently tucked it behind her ears and then adjusted the placement of her skirt on her legs. “I really liked what you showed me in the pictures. I thought what you have done so far is-- it’s really, really good, to be honest.” Harmony noted with a nod. “And also, I really just wanted to thank you for this, you know, again.” -- she laughed breathlessly-- “ I’m sure you had a ton of other orders to fill, so it’s kinda nice. You know, you meeting up with me? I really appreciate it you taking time out of your schedule.” Shaking her head, Harmony laughed yet again and leaned toward Adam. “Okay, so let’s see! I’m dying over here!" The woman finished with a clap, her hands then giving this lazy cheering motion. "I'm so excited!"