- pas de deux -

Ingrid Koslowski ; self confessed cat lady && white wine princess she's walking on rivers, he lifts her above. she's so full of belonging & so full of love.

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Ophelia !

“–You can buy me another coffee, how about that? My husband’s credit card will replace the top,” she replied, giving the brunette a gentle smile. The thought of Sebastian caused a hollow ache in her heart to suddenly throb; she looked away quickly as she composed herself; tucking her hair behind her ear as she took in a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly before clearing her throat and turning back to face the other woman. “Do they? That’s the first I’m hearin’ about it, but then again– I didn’t do my own laundry when I was growing up, and until maybe the last couple of years,” she mused. “But anyway– thank you for the tip! Always something new to learn, isn’t there? Anyway– how ‘bout we call it even? I don’t think I would’ve been able to salvage my clothes without that little tip of yours, sweet pea.”

     “Are you sure? I mean, I’d love to buy you coffee, but seriously if you want to come at me with half of the town and pitchforks, I promise I won’t hide.” As the blonde turns away, Ingrid debates asking her whether she’s okay. Debates asking her whether Ingrid can do anything to help. Then she remembers that it’s not her place, not her business and perhaps asking if she’s okay will only bring more pain. “Oh, my mother raised all of us to be the ideal house spouse. I don’t think my brother’s laundry was done for the entirety of his senior year.” Was it a slightly grotesque fact? Of course. However it was neutral ground and she didn’t want to upset her any further. “I mean, you’re more than welcome to the tip, but please allow me to buy you a coffee. I’ll simply feel awful otherwise.” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Ophelia !

“–Oh, please– coffee isn’t the worst thing to stain my clothes, it’s fine, darlin’,” Ophelia murmured, gently pulling at her blouse as the drink seeped into the fabric and onto her skin. “Last night I was covered almost head to toe in paint, it took me hours to get it out of my hair, and I’m still not sure I’ll be able to save my clothes. Tragic, since I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans,” she rambled on as she blotted away with napkins. “But anyway– no use crying over spilled milk– or coffee, right?”

     If only she had been paying attention, if only she had been focused on walking and not on bopping along to that new Harry Styles song, this entire disaster could have been averted. Of course, the blonde was polite and kind about the entire affair, something that Ingrid didn’t believe she deserved in the slightest. “Oh please. Won’t you let me pay for your dry cleaning, or for replacement clothing, or something? I am so sorry.” Apology comes thick and fast, because she knows if it were her clothing then tears would have definitely been shed. “Have you tried nail polish remover? Or hairspray? They usually work.” Constantly, the brunette was getting an assortment of things on her clothing. “ Again, I’m so sorry.” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Allegra !

One of her patisserie’s striking feature was how she lets the customer see what she’s cooking or baking. Allegra was concentrating on kneading the dough for this morning’s croissant batch when the door creaked open. “Good morning,” Allegra smiled and looked up. Then realised her employee was not here yet; late again, no doubt. “I’m sorry, Annie is not here yet so I’m juggling between everything right now. Can you give me one second?”

     Every morning deserved to start with a pastry. It didn’t matter that they were probably awful for your arteries and such, because they tasted damn fine. Of course, it would mean that Ingrid would feel slightly guilt and spend her time walking or biking instead of driving, but that was besides the point. Entering the bakery, the first thing she notices is how the blonde is alone. “Morning!” A bright smile is across her features, by now she was a regular. “Oh, sure. Do you need help? I can’t really do much, but I’ll offer words of encouragement?” Baking wasn’t her forte, unfortunately, but years of cheerleading meant she was a pretty great motivator.

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Sean !

“I mean, I’d like t’be on vogue, if they wrote ‘bout a pawn shop owner who had long hair and weird eyes.” He teased and rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, most guys are like that. Me on the other hand I’m more of the ‘Lemme lay back and sleep for like two hundred years and get my dad bod on ‘cause girls like that more than muscles’ type guy. Better t’cuddle, let’s be honest there. Who wants t’cuddle a skeleton or a rock?”

     “I mean I’d read the artic---- wait, weird eyes? What’s wrong with your eyes?” Her curiosity betters her at the best of times, the question falling abruptly and in a manner that makes her hate herself. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean... your eyes seem great to me.” Dad-bod mentions makes her laugh, mainly because his observation was somewhat accurate. While she was still below thirty, Ingrid certainly felt somewhat of a distance between herself and people who were still young, people still in their early twenties. “I imagine whoever were to cuddle me would certainly like skeletons, but there’s definitely nothing wrong with an, ahem, dad bod as you put it. They’re pretty great. At least I think so.” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Elle !

She was at the point in her dancing that the placing of her hands resting on her hips had commenced. That small detail rung a bell in her head that it was time to stop acting young, and to go eat dessert like the granny she was becoming. “I–ew I can’t even think about the splits right now–my body is beginning to kick my ass though. I need something to eat, and those cookies are really giving me all kinds of looks.” She glanced over at the table and just barely moonwalked her way over to it. “This is me trying to hide the fact I’m about to smash all those darn cookies.”

     “We can take a dance break; you do get fifteen minute breaks, even in dance marathons.” Charity dance-related events had been her thing when she was in high school. Grabbing a group of peers and committing to just staying on their feet for a few hours, all in the name of whatever charity they were campaigning for ---- twenty-four hour dance marathons were some of her best memories. “I think I’ll go for carrot sticks, but I promise that I won’t judge you for your evolution into the Cookie Monster.” Sugar and Ingrid were a wild monster, somewhat ironic considering her occupation.

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Devan !

“Kiiiinda already past the point of no return,” Devan wrinkled his nose, pointing a thumb behind him towards the gift table. Why was he even at the wedding again? Right. There would be never any escape from high school friends wanting to show the world this silly notion called love. “Took a portion out of my wallet for a toaster so they can begin their marriage fully carb-loaded. So guess I made my choice without knowing dancing was an option, unfortunately. What even is this song?”  

     “I don’t believe in a point of no return. You can always go back, amend and change things.” Accidental philosophy spilled from her lips, before Ingrid realizes it truly isn’t this deep and she should feel embarrassed for attempting to give life advice. “A toaster? Don’t they already own one?” Pop-Tarts were staple food, and she was confused on how anybody could even fathom living without them. “I have no idea, but it’s a good beat and the lyrics are kind of catchy; they’re repeated, you get used to it.”

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Rosie !

“You haven’t seen my dancing yet, that’s the only reason why you’re saying it.” Rosie grinned. Planning was her skill, dancing certainly was not. She could shimmy a little, she could shake her hips, but anything more than that and she looked like a first-timer on ice skates. “That’s all that I’m hoping for - that and the bride and groom. They are paying me after all.” She called over one of the servers for a glass of champagne and found that in her hand before she could even blink. “To the lovely bride and groom!” She cheered with Ingrid. “We can, though I think you’d be the better distraction. As the co-coordinator, no one would question me twice about being behind the DJ booth. Just flash those pearly whites and pull your dress up a bit, you’ll have his attention.“

     “Well why don’t you prove me wrong then?” Ingrid teases, though she’s positive that the woman’s dancing won’t be utterly terrible. Nobody’s dancing could be ---- if you could walk, you could dance. That was what her old teachers used to tell her, in an attempt to build confidence. Now look at her; it definitely worked. “Girl has to live, right?” Money wasn’t a big motivator for Ingrid. She certainly could go into a more lucrative occupation, but she enjoyed her position at Sweet Pea. It was the perfect balance of power for her, and the pay wasn’t all that bad. Left her with enough to still feed and clothe herself; wasn’t that all that was important? “If you’re the co-ordinator, why don’t you do it? Say it’s a special request from the bride and groom! Say it’s their song or something. Surely he won’t argue at you, but I imagine he gets girls trying to flirt with him all the time.” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Sean ! 

“I would hope so..” Sean snorted a bit as he gently wiped at the shirt a few times, a nervous tick he’s always had. “Hell yeah! I wish honestly! Though this face? On Vogue? Doubt it honey. Ain’t no one in their right minds would take this face.” He snorted. “Thank ya. It’s actually his. And that’s true… Guess it’s a good thing I started working out again, right?”

     His self-hatred forced a frown, but he seemed to mean it in good will. Not in the manner that teenage girls did across Instagram, each one secretly vying for compliments and validation from their counterparts. “Oh please, I’d love to see your face on Vogue!” Of course, Vogue was a little too high caliber for her taste, but her mother had adored the magazine showcasing the American way, and Ingrid had fallen in love. “I feel as though that’s the most subtle a man has ever been when noting the fact they go to the gym ---- usually it’s all protein shakes and ‘yeah I  work out, you don’t?’” Ingrid laughs, she always did do better with older company. 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Meredith !

Meredith chuckled in response, although she was always the short one in her family, the other was a bit taller than the other. “Oh, thank you. I was just thinking the same.” Meredith continued to moving around, not sure if she was really dancing to the music or just jumping around, but a grin never left her lips as she danced. “I’m Meredith.” she introduced herself trying to be louder than the music.

     Short people had to stick together. Fight, rebel, against those taller than five foot five. Together, one day, they could form an army and revolt, take all those who were too tall as captives. Of course, this was a very wild idea and one that Ingrid had formed as soon as the twins were no more than a quarter inch taller than her. “Melanie?” Music affected her hearing, plus she wasn’t particularly listening to the girl anyway. “Did you say your name was Melanie?” Taking a step closer, she wants to hear the girl clearly, feeling rude if she didn’t. “I’m sorry ---- I can’t hear a thing! We can talk outside?” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Devan !

“Ah shucks, wouldn’t you know it, I must have left my dancing shoes at home so I’m —- going to give that a hard pass,” Devan replied dryly, though a brow arched in amusement as he watched her shimmy in front of him. “Think the best way to appreciate the happy couple is chucking out money to buy ‘em some some weird kitchen appliance they’ll forget about in a month. You though, you go on and dance for the both of us.” 

     “Oh come on, please?” It wasn’t that she minded dancing alone, but everybody knew that dancing with a partner was inherently better. You could do all sorts of twists, dips and turns that you simply couldn’t do when flying solo. “Everybody says that! I don’t believe it’s true; plus, it’s more beneficial for you if you dance. Would you rather shake that thang or spend money? Cause I know what I’d rather do.” Attempting to convince him was done so with a straight face, though her body didn’t stop. There was no way a sourpuss was going to stop this crucial cardio in her day, even if she did look a tad ridiculous. 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Jasper !

“No, I think I was justified.” Jasper said with a shrug. “He pissed me off. What can I say? He’s a sexist prick who believes a man can do a better job than the most qualified mechanic and owner of this shop can. So I naturally give him my shittiest mechanic to work on his car and pay him double what any normal, respected customer would pay. Moral of the story? Don’t get on my bad side.”

     “Alright, never get on your bad side; duly noted.” A piece of Ingrid wished to stick up for the customer. Sexism was never to be excused, but the brunette certainly had the mentality of ‘ kill them with kindness’ something which the mechanic clearly didn’t share. “Perhaps,” Walking a tight-rope, she’s hesitant and cautious about vocabulary choices, “It would have been more beneficial to give him your best service, as to prove him wrong and show him how capable women are. Plus, who else is he really going to go to?” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Sean !

“So, Presley needed someone to run the bar for a few days while he’s out so he doesn’t get in trouble with anything, so…. Since I look like him, he asked me to do it. Do I look enough like him and sound like him and such? I don’t even know what he says when he goes into work, but…. Atleast I get a damn cool shirt! It has flames and a devil on the back!” Sean adjusted the shirt a bit as he got more comfortable in it.

     “I mean, you look like him to me?” Ingrid had no idea what someone said when running a bar, she imagined it would simply be variations of ‘hey what can I get ya’ but of course, the brunette had never done such a thing and thus was left clueless ( and useless ) on the matter. “Flames and the devil? I mean... someone call Vogue you’re about to be on the next front cover,” A little light teasing never hurt, right? “I do like the shirt though. And at least it fits.” 

[artificialpeas]

Visit Original Link

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Elle ! 

“I have to say, your dance moves are about the best ones I’ve seen yet—and about the only ones.” Holding back her laughter she sat there and watched her. “…God, I can’t just let you do this alone,” Getting up quickly from her seat she began shuffling over to her. she couldn’t help but snicker uncontrollably while dancing just as awkward. “I deserve all the good karma for this–come on, I’m even doing the stanky leg for the bride.” 

     “Please, I wish they were better but I’m no longer eighteen and able to do the splits.” Perhaps if she were more into yoga, her teenage cheerleading physique would have remained. But she wasn’t into yoga ( who really had the time? ) and so the shoulder shimmy and countless twirling became her go-to move. “I definitely appreciate it, even if she does it. I’m really good at the Cha Cha Slide too, so hopefully they’ll play that. Good karma is coming your way though. I mean, I don’t have anything to do with karmic distribution, but if I did then I’d send all of it your way.” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Miller !

“you plan to get married?” he glanced down (lacking terribly in subtlety) to see if she had an engagement ring on her finger. “i think you’re missing a step. but i guess if you’re going the non-traditional route—maybe you aren’t missing a step.” miller leaned back in his chair, lips pressed into something between a frown and a smirk (trademark smown). he wasn’t a fan of weddings. ‘til death do we part, in sickness and in health. all bullshit, all for show, all for tax purposes. “who needs cash? well for one, i could use some cash. guess i can’t speak for anyone else.” he raised an eyebrow at her and his smown edged up into a small smile. “since you said pretty please. first one, if i contract whatever hellish disease made that whole town dance to death. second one, if i live in a town where dancing is outlawed and i have to ‘footloose’ the situation. that one is more or less so i can fulfill my late stage teenage rebellion.” 

     As he obviously looks at her hand, she forces her left hand to disappear behind her back, sheepish grin plastered across her face. “Okay, so maybe I need to find someone to marry me first, but every little girl dreams of her wedding. Some of us simply never stop.” An air of defensiveness surrounds her words, her guard slowly rising in the chance that he may judge her. Label her naive, label her stupid, for believing in true love. For believing in the tales as old as time. “I meant in comparison to love. Money is something we apply weight to, but really it means... nothing.” Somewhat of an anti-establishment view, a rebellious view, but one that she stood behind. Admittedly, she more likely cowered than stood, but the thought was there, at least. “Oh Footloose is such a wonderful movie! How about I go and request the song from the DJ on your behalf. Does that count? Then can we twist and shout? I know, I know that’s Grease. The sentiment remains though.” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Sammi !

     ‘ i always wanted to be a cheerleader – i thought they were so cool. i never… tried out or anything. i was a mess in high school, i would have never made it. but i really did admire them. ’ high school had been such a different time. such a difficult time. sure, her friends had been the most supportive bunch in the school… but a small group in a school over a couple thousand could only do so much. ‘ i always admired the models. not in the pervy way, but their confidence, even in pictures, was almost contagious. you ought to sign up for emails. once i went in and bought so much, they gave me free macaroons. ’

     “I mean... they were certainly something.” Ingrid was a cheerleader because her mother wanted her to be. Because being a cheerleader was a way support her brothers. If it were up to her, and her alone, she probably would have done anything but cheerleading. “I’m not saying Heathers was entirely accurate with the whole bitchy thing, but it certainly wasn’t entirely false. You definitely should have tried out though! No harm in trying and all.” Admission of admiration causes her to laugh; it didn’t sound pervy but it certainly did now that Sam said it wasn’t. “They are gorgeous, that’s true. I was always too short to be a model though, I mean, I’m five foot two. I’m hardly the next Kendall Jenner.” Free macaroons was a curious thing ---- if anything she expected a free kale salad or something. “Macaroons aren’t something I particularly like, but I’ll always accept free food.” 

[ingridklementyna-blog]

Ziva !

“ I couldn’t agree more with you, I sort of just– I don’t know I feel like i’m turning into the teacher I hated so much during my time at school– you know, 0 fun. “ A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she glanced over at the rest of the papers she still had to grade. “ It’s just, it feels like that stack of papers keeps growing instead of shrinking and the weather looks so lovely. I just want to go to the swimming hole or the beach! “ Ziva paused her rambling before uttering, “ You’re right, you’re right, extraordinary minds did not come from textbooks! “ Before giving an extra point for creativity, along with a smiley face drawn in green pen and a short note : very funny. “ So what are you up to today? “

     “Oh no, I don’t believe that for a second! I’m sure you’re a wonderful teacher. When they eventually leave for the summer, I have little doubt that you’ll be greeted with a plethora of gifts and thank-you notes.” Truthfully, she had no clue what type of teacher Ziva was. Did she believe that Ziva would be a great one? Of course. There was no way to know for definite, however, and instead she used words of encouragement that were vaguely empty, yet a glimmer of truth in each. “Well why don’t you take a break? Surely you’ve earned it. The papers will still be there when you get back. If you’re dying to go outside then you’ll only be subconsciously loathing the students for forcing you to stay indoors.” Mention of the subconscious was only to make herself seem more intellectual; the only psychological thing that Ingrid knew was that Freud had a kink for sex, or something like that. “I planned to lap up as much of the sun as possible before I head into work in a few hours. No doubt we’ll be hectic due to the weather.”