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lillian taylor. thirty two. math teacher at devinstone high.

[coral]

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

@wesleyshaffer

[evilrelay-deactivated20201019]

Casey’s first stop was the Dubliner for a drink. For a man that had been sober for seven years, it was an odd choice of location. But as he stepped off the city bus, it was the first place he wanted to go. He needed a drink, as if it could wash away the last three years, or at least the last three months. Stepping into the bar, he proceeded to go directly toward the bartender and ordered himself a rum and Coke, ignoring the likely glances he was receiving. Ex-football star, turned addict, turned soldier; it was hard for him to get around unnoticed. Especially after being gone so long. 

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

lillian was sipping at her drink, looking around the dubliner in search of someone who she knew. she wasn’t partial to drinking unless it was to get drunk, usually, but this summer night was too long and too boring for her to sit in her house by herself. but now that she was out, she felt stiff and awkward. taking a moment away from her self-reflection, she noticed several patrons staring at the man next to her, whispering to themselves. she tried not to stare too hard as she tried to identify him--he did look familiar, after all. it wasn’t until she heard casey from someone else’s mouth that she remembered the story: the football darling who lost it all. the story had resonated deeply with lillian, who felt it had similarities to her own fall from grace. it was odd, she had always pictured him younger, stuck in stasis as the boy in his football cleats, whose photo still hung proudly at devinstone high. 

“hi,” she said, turning her head to give him a gentle smile.

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“right,” lillian mused, glancing up at the coffee cup in jesse’s hand. “you know that there are hundreds of variations of those coffee lids? i saw an interesting display at the smithsonian once that had all of them lined up on a wall. it was interesting,” she half-rambled, always willing to give some unneeded tidbit of information.

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“ha, no. just doing a little bit of a summer purge. i figured it was about time i got rid of some of this junk,” lillian explained. though the action had been spurred by an unsavory reminder of her past, she was thankful to look at the inside of her house and feel as though it was finally clean, for the first time. “how are things going with the cinema?” she asked, genuinely interested. it had come as bit of a shock when dante had suddenly announced his ownership of the warwick cinema, though it added another layer of intrigue to the man whom everyone seemed to know, but very few seemed to know well. the math teacher gave a bemused smirk at dante’s observation, “perks of being a child genius, i guess. you should’ve seen when i had my own tv show,” she said, being facetious. however, when a bystander thumbing through her books gave a curious look, she awkwardly half-shouted, “that was a joke! really. oh god...” turning to look at the red shades dante had in his hand, lillian couldn’t help but giggle. “it it more embarrassing if i say yes or no? i had some odd phases, in my twenties.”

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“a little less talking and a little more slackjawed staring and babbling like an idiot. it was the grocery store; i ran into a display,” she said, heaving a sigh. she admired athena’s views on long-term relationships and had almost certainly accepted that commitment wasn’t in her future, either. “i don’t know what to do, athena. i practically ran here. i keep peeking around corners expecting to see him again. i’ve never been so tense,” lillian cringed, knowing that she was being melodramatic and feeling foolish about it. she was a grown woman, after all, but she felt increasingly more and more like a child.

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

despite the fact that julian seemed to be a bit of a mess, lillian was flattered that the young man seemed to enjoy spending time with her. “alright, but not at two dragons,” she half-joked, putting her hands in the pockets of her skirt as they walked down the street. “so, what happened?” she asked, “you’re pretty cavalier about it. did you know the guys?” it was a line of questioning that was based on morbid curiosity rather than stern interrogation. lillian had an inclination that julian didn’t respond well to lectures or scoldings, but her teacherly instinct showed through in the curve of her lip, expressing her concern.

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

lillian scoffed, “stop it, you know that vase has been sitting in a corner collecting dust for years. take it. i’m sure it’ll be lovely with some of your gorgeous flowers in it.”

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

lillian had never been clumsy, per say, but she had always yearned the ability to walk into a room and exude some aura of grace--much like how sicily did. even now, standing above her, the woman looked positively angelic. lillian took her hand and got up, giving a little laugh to show that there were no hard feelings. “don’t worry, i’m fine. and i never pass down an offer for free coffee,” she said, stretching her legs out as she took a few steps. nope, no lasting damage, except maybe to her pride.

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“if only,” lillian said, rolling her eyes. “remember how i sort of, you know, ruined my entire life, years ago?” she said, pressing the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “the life-ruiner moved here. and he’s still hot,” she lamented, trying to suppress a groan. 

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

lillian gave a shrug, “it’s all yours, really,” she assured, giving a little smirk at the paperweight in sydney’s hands. “a student made that for me, years ago. some failed ceramics project, i guess. you wouldn’t believe how many art projects i get handed every year,” she mused looking back on the memory fondly. of course, the piece itself had gone totally unused and unloved, never looked at again until the blonde picked it up. 

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“then it sounds like you’re stuck with a stain,” lillian replied, eyes downcast on her reading material, notebook sitting open next to her. “should we be worried that the ace detective is so clumsy?” she asked, being more playful than malicious. 

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“oh, shut up, that’s way too much,” lillian chided, shaking the offer off. “seriously, just take them. i haven’t read that one on the bottom in at least ten years,” she added, just wanting to get rid of some of her old junk as quickly as possible.

[gyllenhala]

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

@wesleyshaffer

[lukebrivers]

“Ugh,” he groaned trying to wipe away the fresh coffee stain he had just recently made on his shirt but it seemed like he was just making it worse and he started to become more aggravated. “this is just so fan-fucking-tastic.”

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“rinse it with cold water, it’ll keep it from setting,” lillian said matter-of-factly, hardly looking up from her book as jeese walked by. 

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“dante!” lillian called out, happy to see her co-worker. because they were so few in number, teachers at devinstone high tended to be forced into close proximity, relationships developed by proxy. when dante had announced his plans for sabbatical, the math teacher had felt a melancholy happiness--it was great that dante was pursuing a dream, but his presence would certainly be missed around school. “hey, as long as i haven’t got papers to grade, i’m in bliss,” she said, extending her arms into a nice stretch, the sunlight kissing her arms. it was a beautiful day, and there were worse ways to spend it than sitting in her driveway. at the sunglasses question, she reached under her chair to pull out a box of assorted shades, pulling out one odd looking pair, “i bought these years ago, in egypt. worn one time for a photo by the pyramids,” she mused before plopping them back in with the rest of the lot.

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

“sorry, i didn’t mean to--” lillian blurted out when declan turned away. she laughed, awkwardly, mostly to herself, and sheepishly touched her face. “this is really a horrible way to meet someone. my name’s lillian.”

[lilliantaylor-blog1]

ever since she had seen wes, lillian had the greatest urge to purge all of her old items and make way for the new. there was something cathartic about seeing half of her closet space empty, along with several of her cupboards in the kitchen (why did she need so many mugs, anyway? she seemed to collect junk more and more as she got older). green eyes stared at diana’s hands, watching the older woman examine the vase. a part of her wondered what drew her to an item that lillian had always thought of as quite ugly, more her mother’s style than her own, and shunned to the back of her cabinet, rarely seeing the light of day until now. “a gift from my mother, after i got my first apartment,” she explained, brow raised, “we’ve got different tastes, so it’s never really fit in anywhere that i’ve lived. it was the first and last decoration she ever got me--now she usually just sticks to sending me books, which is much better,” she explained.