It’d taken tooth and nail for Philly to return to Lovell; teeth to gnaw at the zip-tie that she had secured around her arm and the pole of a gas station sign in the middle of Oklahoma, and nails to grip onto the soft underarm afterwards, as Philly flopped over and pretended she had no longer function of her limbs - carried forth by Elektra, toes of her shoes dragging against hot pavement. She made it policy, once - never return to the same place twice ( it’d been part of the reason why Philly never made it back home - she’d been close to it, once, but felt nothing but frozen veins at the highway sign signaling Stanford; gripped onto Florence’s steering wheel and swerved hard, just to miss the exit - Elektra’d been silent the rest of the ride to a Super 8, jaw locked in unspoken anger ) - Lovell was not supposed to be the exception. She was not made for reunion, found others’ rejoice something quite awkward - found it something unknown; but the closer they’d gotten to the town, to campus - there’d been something shaking and stomping around in her guts, rattling her ribs - nails gripped into Florence’s leather seats, peeling it back to expose the cushioning. Nail and tooth, nail and tooth - there was anticipation between the grinding of her teeth as they pulled into the parking lot; forgot her manners, forgot to say a goodbye ( temporary, as they always were ) to Elektra as she clamored out of the van, thighs ripped from the leather they stuck to and leaving them bright. The pain went ignored - hadn’t even flinched, making way towards the door. She ducked beneath the arm of an exiting stranger who’d thrown it wide open ( it almost hit her, in all her focus - she hadn’t noticed ) - quickly tossed herself behind an array of flowers, sharp inhale at the distinct smell of Fowler’s Flowers. Something familiar - good, in that way - in the way most familiar things should be. Comforting to her nerves, almost - there’d been pangs and flashes, still, like her entire body had been a game of Operation. Felt undercover, almost - the way Philly carefully selected bouquets, no real purpose for them in mind - finding holes between petals in which to peek glances across the store from, to where the cashier’s counter was. Felt odd, almost - hiding as a means of preparation without purpose of attack. She swept the floral arrangement into her arms - too many than she should’ve been able to fit within her grasp, leaves obscuring her vision; flower heads popped off, littered the floor - left a mess of petals as she puffed out an exhale and made her way forth ( she left a trail, a floral massacre, in her wake ) - it was clear to her now why she’d gone back to Lovell with such little resistance ( there’d been several, much more severe instances of Philly defying authority - tooth and nail had been a bare minimum effort ), throwing the bouquets on top the counter with an exhale, “Hello Leo,” she greeted - face flush and sheen, from sunburn and summer heat ( the AC had broken halfway through their roadtrip back to Lovell; the strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail stuck to her neck - they were muddy colors, the faded remnants of however many colors she’d chosen to dye her hair the past few months ); there’d been a dozen new freckles. “It feels like it’s been a lifetime,” Philly plucked a leaf from where it’d stuck in her hair, put it down with the rest of the flowers - she had tried to keep a rather neutral expression, but it was quickly failing ( a rare, rare feat ) - lips turned into a widespread grin instead; heart like the clashing of cymbals, “I will be taking these flowers with me, by the way - thought you’d ought to know. Has Marjorie been well?”
Broom in hand, Leo swept up the floor of the shop for the third time that day for something to do, while Believe by Cher played for the fourth. It’d become far too routine at this point - sweep out of boredom, hum along to a song he’d memorized due to this job, ring out customers. Wash, rinse, repeat. Not that he had a choice. He’d gotten himself into this mess, remembered how the air had left him in a woosh when he found out how much money he owed after the damage he’d done to one of the few grocery stores downtown. Leo could accept consequence when necessary. It just made going out at night, spending weekends at Lana and Freya’s new apartment fun. Until that had become a routine, too. Work, drink, sleep. When he wasn’t working, he was drinking himself stupid, until he had no choice but to pass out and forcibly wake up in time to do it all over again. There was no satisfaction in it, no happy ending, no silver lining. Leo had never given much thought to what he’d do for the rest of his life, because there wasn’t a large part of him that ever cared, but things had been put into perspective as the summer played out more like a fever dream than anything else. With the way she ducked in so quickly, hid herself out of sight, Leo hadn’t even noticed anyone had entered as he made his way back behind the cash register, more focused on attempting to open the new bag of Twizzlers Steve had left than on the giant onslaught of flowers being dragged to the register, “Uh. Ma’am?” Glancing up when he heard his co-worker squeak from the opposite end of the store, staring dejectedly at the mess Leo would inevitably have to actually clean now, he finally noticed the human parade float dawdling towards him. “Fuck,” he blurted, startled enough that the Twizzlers fell to the ground with a cartoonish splat. Leo would be lying if he said it wasn’t the most entertaining part of his day, though - maybe his week. Once he’d recovered, a grin had already been spreading across his face, hand help up to stop his coworker from moving forward to help whoever was struggling with the flowers, just so he could watch that much longer, “I feel like I should play the Hercules soundtrack? Your strength is very impressive -,” Like a punch to the gut or a douse of cold water, Leo’s entire system froze in shock when the flowers dropping onto the counter in front of him to reveal Philly behind them. Wash, rinse, repeat - it made sense, then, what’d been missing from his dreary one-note summer, “Phil!” It took a few seconds to come back to himself, but once he did he didn’t waste a second. Hands clutching the edge of the counter, he launched himself over it, as if taking his time and walking around to her side was an offensive thought, too much of a waste when he could be right by her in seconds, “You’re back!” Leo must’ve screamed it in her ear - she was already scooped up into his arms, feet dangling off the ground as he held her tight to him in a practically bone crushing hug, spinning them in an overenthusiastic circle that left him dizzy immediately, one hand reaching to clutch at the counter top while the other stay wrapped around her waist, “Shit - sorry, I’m, like. Super jazzed right now. I fuckin’ missed you. You look good,” Words seemed to flow out of him a mile a minute, like he couldn’t speak fast enough to keep up with his thoughts. She was one of his favourite people, and they’d gone from speaking almost every day to not at all for months, he had so much he wanted to tell her he could already feel a headache start to form just to keep up with him. He still hadn’t put her down as he spoke, probably looking a bit like a crazy person with the way Leo grinned at her - wide, teeth practically beared, cheeks aching with it, “Dave,” he called over his shoulder, finally (with some reluctance) setting her back onto the ground, “I’m taking my break, wrap these up for me?” Nodding towards the giant pile of flowers Philly had carted to the register. Leo had already been talked to by Marj about how he abused Dave’s inability to say no, but all rules were off the table now. Though she’d been set down, Leo had still been holding onto her hand, giving it a gentle tug and nodding in the direction of the back room so she knew to follow him, “Everything you said went in one ear and out the other, you gotta, like. Remind me of what you asked. All I heard was sirens going off - good ones. Happy sirens. Celebratory sirens - like an ice cream truck,” The back room wasn’t anything fancy - it’d honestly could have been described as somewhat trashed, considering everyone enjoyed taking whatever naps they could on the couch but never bothered cleaning up after themselves. But it meant they’d be alone, and all Leo really wanted to do was sit with Philly, alone again, “VIP treatment. Welcome to the employee’s only section,” he drawled, gesturing languidly before giving Philly his full, proper attention, still holding onto her like she’d go off to some other state again if he let go, “I missed you. Are you back for good?” You could never be sure with Philly. He had to find out, if not to prepare himself, “If it means anything, I really hope you are. The summer was kinda shit without you.”
