s a u d a d e

[maura1x1]

[text] Please don’t walk away. (cece & elias)

[ SMS ] : One of us has to

[maura1x1]

andromachewrites​:

It was finally Friday and he was finally able to at least attempt to enjoy a couple of days off from the endless monotony that was his new day job. Figuring that after a long week a quick dinner would be appreciated, a detour to the store had been made to pick up the ingredients to one of his favourite meals. Suburban life hardly suited him but he tried to play the part, acknowledging his new neighbour with a nod and smile as he arrived back at the house. He could only hope that from that distance his smile looked genuine and the telltale sign of his clenched jaw would go missed. The moment the door is shut behind him, his free hand is reaching up to impatiently tug the tie from his neck. Its closeness to his neck was bad enough but coupled with the itchy suits that he’d had to trade his leather jackets for, getting home and being able to take them off was the highlight of his day. Not to mention that he felt that little bit less like an imposter when he wasn’t all dressed him. He barely recognised himself when he looked in the mirror these days, though he suspected it had more to do with the actions he’d taken than the clothes he was forced to wear.

Everyone he worked with talked about how much they were looking forward to going home and he shared their sentiments. The only difference was the place that he longed for was far away. The house he went back to after the daily grind still feeling empty. Having to share it with a stranger didn’t make it any easier, though he supposed there would be far worse people to have to share his space with. Tight smile was sent her way as he realised she’d beaten him back. “I got it tonight.” It’s the only greeting he gave, still keeping her somewhat at arm’s length when he figured it would be better for them both. After all, in no time at all they’d be strangers once again when the trial was over with. “Picked up some stuff on the way back.” There’s a pause but he figures that there’s no harm in them spending some time together. Might help them be more convincing in the little act that their lives depended on. “You can help, if you want.”

@maura1x1​

-

The entire thing made little to no sense to Lola.  In fact, the entire situation felt like something out of one of her friend’s cheesy romance novels.  Although, perhaps her bitterness over the whole thing was coloring her thoughts, just a little.  She had seen someone get murdered.  She had done the right thing, she had reported it, and now she was scared for her life and stuck in a house with a stranger, a stranger who had once worked for the same people who had ordered said murder.  Don’t get her wrong, he seemed nice enough, in fact she had a fairly hard time imagining him caught up in anything like that.  Thought maybe that was her naivety.  Or his stupid new ties. 

But still, her confusion and uneasiness at their living situation was ever at the forefront of her mind.   It made her stomach flutter whenever she stood outside the door to the house--the house they shared--as she returned from her opening shifts at the coffee shop.  It made her head whip around at alarming speeds at any noise.  It made her tense as she heard the sound of an opening door, despite knowing who was entering.  

I got it tonight.  Was probably for the best, left to her own devices Lola was quickly coming to terms that her cooking was not always good, but always interesting.  She piqued in interest as he spoke of picking somethings up, and she wondered exactly what he had in store for her.  Interested enough that she left her favorite sentinel position of the couch next to the front window, and trailed behind him.

“You might regret that offer.  But if all else fails, I could always just stand on the bleachers and offer moral support?”

[maura1x1]

andromachewrites​:

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For someone who tended to always think her decisions through when she never had been fond of uncertainty, packing up in the middle of the night to trek across the country for a job she couldn’t remember applying for was wildly out of character. But the more distance she put between herself and Seattle, the more she felt as though she had made the right choice. At least until her car decided to finally give up the will to live, leaving her stranded on the roadside with no cell signal.

Dread filled her but not at the thought that she could be stuck there for hours. Instead it was the realisation that this impulsive move was something straight out of her mother’s playbook. The thought made her nauseous and she wondered where along the lines she’d become as much of a flight risk as the woman who’d turned her childhood an endless roadtrip. She couldn’t remember more than a handful of times they’d stayed in one place for longer than six months which was maybe why she’d always been so keen to put roots down somewhere. She’d just never found the right place.

The life that she had now was one that she considered herself solely responsible for. It was a testament to her own hard work and determination that she’d been able to make something of herself despite the incredibly uneven foundation her mother had given her to build from. But for all she prided herself on her independence, she knew that it could be something of a curse too and she almost proved it when at the first sign of help she almost reflexively turned them away.  “Oh no I should be -” 

Lips press shut as she finds a way to swallow her pride. She always encouraged her students to ask for help rather than suffer in silence and perhaps now was as good a time as any to finally take her own advice. Gaze lifted to finally meet the man in the truck, nod given as the words she was so reluctant to utter finally left her lips. “Yes. Please.” 

Once they’d filled the air it felt as though a damn had broken. The hard part of admitting that she couldn’t handle it by herself was over and more words flowed from her lips. “I’d be really grateful for that. I know nothing about cars and well -” Hand lifted to gesture to the vehicle that had landed her in this position in the first place, before a tentative but grateful smile was sent the direction of the truck. “Thank you.”

-

Iggy’s mother had always insisted on helping out wherever she could, and had instilled that into him as well.  And a long time ago, it had been something he lived by.  Always going out of his way to help, to be of use to the people around him.  But he had learned his lesson, learned it real good after being falsely accused of a crime and stuck in a six by eight box for near on a decade for his troubles.  And to top it off, those in town who still held the belief he should still be in that box, didn’t want his help.  And despite his observation that she most definitely wasn’t from around these parts, as soon as she began to object, he immediately started to back off, knowing just how careful he had to be, how harshly he was watched and judged. 

But it seemed she had a change of heart, and whether that was out of sheer desperation, or maybe his willingness to back off lent to his lack of evil-doer plans he wasn’t sure, but began to make his way over, surer this time.  He wasn’t real good with people.  He had always been a bit on the shyer side, but it had turned into near on social incompetence after he had gotten out.  So getting to focus in on her car, something he knew about for sure, was a god send, and put him a bit more at ease.

Iggy made his way closer to the hood of the car, his posture leaning back slightly to avoid the plumes of smoke that billowed from it.  Black and acidic smelling was never a good mix, he noted, studying the car as he listened to her continue on.  “Guess it’s your lucky day,” he commented quietly, the words getting garbled between two heavy lips who seemed resistant to let the noises escape, as he gestured back to the tow truck parked across the road emblazoned with the text of ‘SAL’S TOWING AND AUTO SHOP’, He wasn’t sure if she had seen that, as she did have good reason to be distracted enough not to. “Beauty of a small town, I guess.” He shrugged with a hesitant smile, never quite that good with interacting with strangers outside of scripted conversations.  Ones where he’d exchange niceties with the waitress at the diner, or a customer at the shop, ones that had a clear and visible end.

“Well, first of all, you should probably take a step back–” he began, as he tried to wave the smoke out of his face, trying to clear the air so he could get a better look at the problem.  “Black smoke means oil’s leakin’ and it could burst into flames any second or it’s the wirin’, which, also…Fire.”  

“Either way, probably won’t know until I get it back to the shop.” He finished, implying that it wasn’t going to be easy enough of a fix where he could just pop something into place and send her on her way.

[maura1x1]

andromachewrites​:

                                                    _________

It would be a lie to say that she’d never thought about seeing him again, knowing somewhere in her heart of hearts that the day she’d walked away from him wouldn’t be the last time they were ever face to face. There was far too much tying them together for them to ever be permanently severed and when losing him had felt like losing part of herself, she’d suspected that fate would pull them back together again.

But she’d never imagined it like this. It had always been a brief, fleeting thing to her. One last look at him so she could convince herself that she did the right thing. That he was happier and healthier without her. She’d imagined eyes meeting at music awards, flickering smiles and a slight nod of acknowledgement. Or catching sight of one another from across the street, that same look of recognition but the rest of their emotions unreadable when there would have undoubtedly been so many to be felt. Even a conversation where they’d both want to linger, far too much left unsaid so they’d end up hovering for just a moment too long as responsibilities tugged them elsewhere.

A planned meeting though she had never expected, it had always been something by pure accident or chance in her mind. Part of her had been convinced that having some time to prepare would have been better, given her a chance to not be knocked sideways by just seeing him. But it seemed pretty obvious to her now that something more casual that caught her off guard would be better than having walked in feeling as though she could handle being around him only to be proven wrong the instant that their eyes had met.

Her grandmother had always told her she had a quiet grace about her. A gentle air of composure that seemed to help people feel at ease around her even when she wasn’t the most loquacious of people. Some would chatter away to strangers to make them feel more comfortable but she’d always been more of a listener, her soft smiles and kind eyes the things that she used to achieve the same end. But for all this supposed grace was meant to come to her natural, be an innate trait of hers, she found herself grasping for it now when the sight of him had left her so off kilter.

She tries and fails not to let her eyes drift over to him as he goes to get her tea, knowing if she was smart that she’d have looked away and seized those few moments for herself just to calm her heart rate. But she never had been that smart when it came to him, always heart before head and never once stopping to think twice. At least, not until he’d given her no choice when she’d been unable to ignore the ache in her chest that had been him slowly breaking her heart every time he chose the bottle over her. Then the knowledge that love wasn’t supposed to hurt like that had slowly sunk in and she chose with her head to protect what she would have left of her heart without him.

All too soon he’s back at the table and she’s grateful for the small smile he gives her and the touch of humour when it gives her the chance to focus on something lighter even just for a moment. “Oh yeah?” Eyes flicker with amusement as her mouth curl up slightly. “Nothing is sacred these days.” Head shakes as a quiet laugh slips from her.

Eyes widen slightly as he seems so keen to get it over with as quickly as possible and she tries to ignore the way that her heart dropped in disappointment. “If that’s how you want to do it.” Gaze dropped slightly, unable to force her eyes to meet his despite having been unable to take them off him only moments earlier. But the last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty for her feeling disappointed that he wanted it all over so quickly. Maybe it was for the best to keep it all short and sweet. It might hurt less when she’d inevitably have to leave him behind to get on that plane back to L.A.

She busies herself with stirring her tea a moment, taking a breath before she decides that she’s got nothing to lose by making it known that he doesn’t have to rush through any of this for her sake. “I did take a couple of weeks off though so I don’t need to urgently get back. I thought I might get a bit nostalgic while I’m here. See how much has changed, maybe try to catch up with some old faces.”

_________

He had caught the way her eyes dropped and he cursed himself inwardly.  Even now, sober as a priest on Sunday morning, his words seemed to hurt her.  He swallowed hard, hands balling against the once rough but now worn soft fabric of his jeans.  He found it sardonically funny that the one person he had been the most comfortable with suddenly made him the most uncomfortable.  But then again, maybe only a person who knew you like that could cause such a reaction.  He just couldn’t seem to do anything right when it came to her anymore, and he cursed his tongue as he started his sentence only to end it abruptly a syllable later as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say.

“That’s not--I just...”  He sighed in frustration, before deciding, damn it all to hell, he was just going to speak plainly.  “--Well, I just figured with, well, with all the shit I put you through you’d want to make quick work of this.  I wouldn’t blame you.”  He could feel a lump in his throat as the words were finally out in the open.  He had tried to atone for his sins in church, in meetings, in meetings in church basements, he had gone on at great lengths owning up to all his mistakes and wrong doings.  But never once to her, and those words hung in the air like a cloud over a picnic, and he tried not to let the feeling of wanting to take those words and stuff them back into his mouth overwhelm him.  He needed to feel it without actually doing it.  No walking it backwards, because he couldn’t walk what he did backwards either.  

He knew that sometimes the step of making amends was more for the one apologizing than the one being apologized to, and he didn’t want to do that to her.  He didn’t want to selfishly rehash all the hurt he caused just so he could progress another step in his recovery only to end up hurting her more.  He wanted to give her what she needed, if she needed anything from him at all.  God, it was enough to give him a headache.  And want a stiff drink.  Looking down at his black coffee he knew that was the best he’d get for now.  

But as she let him know of her travel plans, or lack of plans to travel back as of the moment, he felt both relieved and nervous.  He had been fairly sure he could get through a quick visit from her with minimum damage.  An extended visit...Well that was a whole other ball game.  He could feel that itch to push down those feelings rather than, well, feel them with a beer or two.  Well, more like a six pack or two.  

Harley swallowed again before answering, “Couple weeks, huh?  Must be makin’ a killin’ out there in tinsel town.---Well, actually pretty sure I heard a Rosemary Kelly original on the radio the other day, so obviously you are,” he began to ramble and he hated that he couldn’t make himself stop.    “--Well, I’m sure the old faces will be glad to see you ‘round.  Definitely more excited than when my ugly old mug shows up, that’s for sure.”  He tried to smile, although wasn’t sure how convincing it was, but he just so badly wished for the way things were, despite knowing it’d never be like that again.

[maura1x1]

andromachewrites​:

Whether it was the use of his nickname for her, the way that his voice still sounded like the future she’d once craved or simply just seeing him again she couldn’t help but still for a moment. It was a cliche that she’d never expected to come true, but time did feel as though it had slowed.

Gaze flickered over his features once more, finding it all too easy to get lost in them. She’d thought she still remembered them in vivid detail but predictably her memory hadn’t been able to give them true justice. 

Without thinking she found herself mapping out the changes to them, wondering where each new crease had come from. If the faint lines that showed the passing of the years were from laughter ( and who might have caused it ) or from frowns. Mind racing at what could have caused such emotions - people and events and ups and down. All too curious, almost morbidly so, about what he had faced without her.

It was overwhelming and while she’d always been faithful to her emotions they were threatening to drown her. All she really knew was that she was caught somewhere between a comfortable familiarity and the knowledge that they’d left that behind. Even if seeing him made her feel more at home than almost a decade in LA had, she knew

Seeing him again hit her harder than expected even when she had been fully prepared to have the wind knocked out of her. She had never been one to hide from her feelings when she found that being honest with herself produced the best lyrics and so she had been under no illusion as to what their meeting would mean for her. But even with that knowledge, she still found herself simply blinking up at him for a moment before she managed to realise that she’d been asked a question.  

With a small shift in her seat, Rosemary nodded. “It is, that would be great thank you.” But with her soft answer she found herself struggling for what to say next or what to say at all. Even though she had always been somewhat quiet, she’d always had a way with words. An ability to string simple phrases together into something beautiful. But now she was somewhat speechless, trying to grasp on to the talent that had never failed her with anyone but him. 

It felt far too raw to hold his gaze much longer, instead looking around the cafe he’d chosen as a sense of nostalgia washed over her. “This place has barely changed, I missed it.” What she wanted to say was that she’d missed him. Missed them.

After his first words, his mouth had gone dry, and he felt much like a fish out of water, and was sure his floundering must’ve been clear to see.  He excused himself to grab her tea and took the moment to steel himself, to catch a breath, as it suddenly felt as if all of them had been stolen from him.  He hadn’t thought it was going to be this hard.  But that was when he was under the assumption all he was going to receive was contempt.  But here she was, as sweet and beautiful as ever, and it was yet another punch to the gut, a reminder of what he had lost in search of escape which he thought he’d find at the bottom of a bottle.  

He knew from all the many meetings he had gone to, it wasn’t useful looking back unless it was to apologize for your sins.  The ifs and buts were of no use to him, because he couldn’t go back and fill all those liquor bottles back up, couldn’t take back cruel words he had said or fix those opportunities he had fucked up.  And that was all good in practice, but as she looked at him with those wide brown eyes, how could he not?  How could he not imagine what their lives would be like if he hadn’t continued down that wrong road, because he had no doubt they’d still be together.  Hell, if she would have taken him, he would’ve definitely dropped down on one knee by now.  

But the most overwhelming feeling was guilt.  He had done her wrong, that was for sure.  So wrong that he was still stuck on the step of ‘making amends’ because he couldn’t even put it into words.  And selfishly, he didn’t want to, because it felt final, the severing of the one thing that kept them connected, his ability maybe finally give closure.  Of perhaps it was conceited of him to think that she even needed that from him.  

Her tea was ready all too soon, and he knew he needed to quiet the thoughts in his mind if he were to get through her visit without turning to old vices.  Live in the moment.  One day at a time.  Or rather right now, one minute at a time.  He took a deep breath before returning to the table and setting her drink down in front of her.  

Ever the gentleman, he took off his hat as he sat down, putting it in the chair beside him before wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans.  he was about to open his mouth--to say what he wasn’t sure--when she mercifully spoke up first.  

“One of the only places, truly.  Nashville is startin’ to get bougie on us.” He replied with a small smile.  The city he now called home, spent half of his life in was changing, it was now not the only place one could go to make it in country music, and while less newcomers making their was to music city would seem like a good thing, competition only seemed to grow stronger.  Which is why he had been fairly excited to hear a big label wanted to option one of his songs.  Excited enough that he hadn’t thought to ask which one until he was told he’d need to have Rosemary sign off on it as well.

“I know you must be wantin’ to get back to L.A., back to your life, so we can cut right to the chase if you want.  Wouldn’t wanna keep ya.” He couldn’t imagine a world in which she didn’t have someone eagerly waiting for her return.  And figured with the way everything had gone down she’d want to spend as little time as possible with him, and he couldn’t blame her.

[maura1x1]

andromachewrites​:

There’d been a fixed goal in her head for her life for as long as she could remember. One thing that her heart had been so entirely set on that she’d built her whole life around it. She had her dream and it had been the main motivation in her life. The reason behind her two degrees and endless hours poured into any kind of experience she could get her hands on. Successful and devoted, it had only been a matter of time before she’d reached the peak of her ambitions. Finally she was where she wanted to be and yet as always fate had a way of twisting things around her and leave her standing precariously on the shaky summit of her lofty achievements.

For all she’d had her vision, it hadn’t been the easiest of roads. Not when her father had always had his own picture of the future - one that painted the two of them together, father and daughter completely interwoven leaving her feeling stifled and suffocated. She’d tried his path or at least pretended to humour him but her heart had never been in it. He’d known that and taken it as a perceived slight that the business that he’d built up himself supposedly wasn’t good enough for her. 

She found it hard to feel guilty over her choices, especially when her brother had stepped in to fill the void that she’d left in her father’s plans. Noah was far more of a natural with people than she was and she knew that his way with others had provided endless connections for their family winery. It was what had made the bars he’d invested in after the death of their father so successful too and it seemed obvious that they’d go on to be hotspots in Adelaide. What she’d never have been able to predict was that a car accident would leave her having to step in to help her sister in law steady the ship.

Juggling the bars as well as her day job was hardly easy but then again she’d never been one who ever really struggled. Besides, it was just what you did for family. 

After a long day at work she’d wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up with a bottle of wine in the privacy of her own apartment but she knew that market research had to be done. The competition to her brother’s legacy had to be assessed. Confident steps had carried her over to the bar, eyes skimming down the menu before a slight satisfied smile flickered over her lips upon seeing one of her family’s bottles on it. A glass of red was ordered for herself before she scouted a place where she could interact with someone. Ideally a regular but she’d settle for someone’s brain to pick, first impressions counted.

Swift movement plucks her drink off the bar but before she can meander through the room a commotion catches her attention and she shifts just in time to see an intoxicated man stumble hard into one of the barstools. A soft “Ooh” escaping her as she winced somewhat playfully. Sense movement out of the corner of her eye she let dry words leave her lips, head tilting towards the man who was now being escorted out. “I bet he’ll be feeling that in the morning.” Lips pursed together slightly to prevent a smirk from settling too easily onto her features when she knew it was hardly a gracious trait to poke fun at others. Even if they did make it so easy.

With the ice now broken her gaze slipped back to the person who she’d joined, head tilting to the side as she considered them before allowing leisurely words to drip from dark painted lips. “You come here often?” She was well aware it sounded like the cliché bad pick up line, her curious gaze fixed on them over the rim of her wine glass hardly helping it come off anything but flirtatious. But she wanted to suss out her competition and in her experience there was nothing quite like a promise of undivided attention for pulling someone in. 

@maura1x1​

Ada had once been the queen of vacations.  Someone who seemed to live the saying ‘I need a vacation from my vacation’.  Looking through her socials or seeing what the rags wrote and posted, it seemed she’d be in one holiday spot only to fly home for a week before she was off to her next one.  It’s ironic, truly, back when she barely lifted a finger at her job, her schedule was packed full of holidays, but now when her days could start at 6 am and not end until the same time the next day, she wasn’t sure when her last one was. 

So was it a crime that she found herself tipsy on wine during her one free day of a business trip?  The tabloids may paint it as so, but personally, Ada knew she deserved a couple of glasses, mayhaps even a whole bottle.  She wasn’t driving so what could it hurt? Other than her future self in the morning, that is.  

The fact that Ada hadn’t fallen into a routine of drinking a whole bottle of wine after everything that had happened over the past few years was a miracle in itself.  As for awhile, that’s all she wanted to do (and, well, did).  Drink to forget, smoke to relax, fuck to feel.  It had worked for her, for awhile, as her father’s name got dragged through the mud.  Sure, it was well deserved, but it was still hard to see.  Her father had given her everything growing up, had spoiled her senseless, and had been a present father to boot.  Which made it so hard to reconcile his crimes with the man he was.  Sure, he wasn’t an especially generous or frugal man, but neither was he stingy, so the idea of him embezzling all that money still seemed outrageous to Ada.  Which is why she had been so hard pressed to be able to talk to him.   

Ada had the thought, one she would never let form on her lips, that...Well, she didn’t really care what he had done, she really only cared for the repercussions, of what it had cost the family.  Her father, forced to retire from the company he had built from the ground up, her mother asked not so kindly to step down from all her charities and boards, and herself, losing a fiancé (although, to be fair, it was going to have ended all by itself, she was sure of it) and being forced to adopt a lifestyle change she hadn’t wanted.  Granted, in her case, things had turned out fo the better, the sudden upheaval of her life and being forced to actually work for her money for a change had led her to a desire for a career she had never truly thought of before.

Said career being the reason she had found herself all by her lonesome (something the brunette hated) in a wine bar, on a week night.  Or rather, her career being the reason for her stay in Adelaide.  The wine bar was her choice, to be fair.  Although as her fingers danced around the rim of her glass that was once again, and unfortunately empty, she found herself wishing she had made her way to a club instead, an awful sense of being alone settling on her shoulders with a slump.  

Eyes barely moved from their trained position on her glass to see a man make a fool out of himself and she couldn’t help but rolling her eyes, a haughty sense of annoyance over the man’s drunkenness clear.  Perhaps someone needed to remind her just how many times she had been caught by the tabloids stumbling out of a club or bar at 4 am in a less than graceful fashion.  No need to mention the photos showing her pulling a Princess Kate, though.  Those were burned into her brain already, thank you very much.

Her eyes did flick up as a voice was seemingly directed at her, and she shrugged “I think he’ll have better things to worry about.” she responded, taloned fingers absentmindedly flicking over to where the man had been sitting, wallet and keys left on the bar.  “Such as stopping his credit card, and asking himself why he needed to get that drunk on a Tuesday night as he wonders where his car is.”  

As the woman seemed keen on having some sort of conversation past a fleeting judgement of the man, Ada moved her body to turn the stool so she was facing her, not too steady in the balance department herself.  But despite her previously souring mood, she couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the next words out of the woman’s mouth, unsure if it was a genuine question or some sort of come-on.

“No, first time.  Perhaps my last if the clientele end up being like him over there.  There’s only room for one lush in this place, and that’s me.”

[maura1x1]

[drunk text] AND I UNFOLLOWED YOU ON INSTAGRAM TOO, BITCH (reece & anika)

REECE: and i’m sure i’ll miss your ever so predictable ‘😍’ on every post

[maura1x1]

[text] How the hell did you get my number, stalker? (aiden & talulah)

TALULAH: i got it off the paperwork for the restraining order, i hope that’s okay?

[maura1x1]

andromachewrites​:

If there was something that she was guilty of almost as much as feeling so deeply it was over analysing. Not so much overthinking when her own actions and choices were things that she had generally learnt to be comfortable with but focusing on every little expression or gesture that a person gave as they spoke. In her experience actions almost always spoke louder than words when she’d grown up with endless assurances that everything was fine while the distance and coldness that existed had told her it was anything but.

Her new partner’s own distance and almost standoffish attitude was undoubtedly setting her on edge and Cece found herself for the first time wondering if she had been right to accept the call when it came through. For as long as she could remember she had been pushed by her parents to be the best, to make a name for herself and to one day go down in history. But none of that had ever been her own dream, at least not completely. Skating was what she had always loved and in truth she couldn’t imagine doing anything else but the spotlight was something that she wasn’t all that fond of, at least not alone.

There had been some hope, perhaps a vain one now, that a partner could fix the things that she didn’t like about her career and give her the future that she truly wanted. Victories without having to do interviews alone, medals without having to stand on the podium by herself, fittings with someone to joke with. Maybe she’d expected too much, looked at it through rose tinted glassed like she always did despite having been disappointed so many times before, but that didn’t make the feeling that it was all slipping away any easier to bear. Cece had wanted this to work, so badly, and yet there she was finding herself searching for any glimmer of hope that it wasn’t a complete disaster in his features.

She listens to what he’s saying, feeling more intimidated by the delivery than what the words are actually implying. There was a certain confidence in her ability and a certainty in her work ethic, she could and would do it but she still felt like she had to convince him that it was worth the effort.

“I am, skating is my life so I promise I’m not here to waste anyone’s time.” To her own surprise she manages to hold his gaze but there’s something in the intensity of it that makes her continue. “Pairs is actually what I always wanted to do but my parents thought that my talent was better suited to solo and my first teacher agree. So countless lessons and trainers later that’s what I ended up doing but I guess I never really gave up on the idea of pairs - I never thought I’d get the chance to let alone a call like this one so I just couldn’t say no.”

Clearing her throat slightly, she tries not to shuffle her feet as she gives him a small, sheepish smile. “Sorry, probably far more information than you really needed.”

----

She seemed like a lovely person, she really did.  Perhaps came on a bit too strong, but it was in a positive way so one couldn’t really complain about it.  But, as they spoke, as he thought of skating with her, of practicing routines, going to costume fittings, waiting while skates were sharpened, all the small moments where his relationship with Daniela had bloomed...It all felt too much like cheating.  Professionally, Daniela had been the only partner he had, and when their relationship had turned romantic as well, it had all intertwined.  And now he found it hard to untangle it all, to find the intimacy needed for pairs without feeling as if he was betraying Daniela.  

And the fact that he had a fight pretty much about the same issue before coming to meet Cecilia didn’t help.  Of course it was all veiled under other issues, but he was fairly sure that is where his girlfriend’s anger had stemmed from; insecurity, jealousy.  But he’d admit, he was also nervous.  So many years he had spent skating at the side of someone who knew his every tic and he knew their’s.  He could tell by the way she positioned her hand in his how she was going to take the jump, could tell by the way she held herself if she was sure or not about the next trick.  She could tell by the way he gripped her waist if he was going to put enough force behind the throw or not, or if his finger tapped against her skin in a lift that he needed to let her down early.  These were all things that hadn’t been taught but somehow learned, and he was nervous that it was not something that could be repeated with his new partner, sure that these were all things that could be cultivated without that extra, romantic bond.

Sighing, perhaps a bit too loud, he clapped his hands together.  “Well, I figured we might as well throw you in the deep end, if you’ve got your skates?” he questioned.  “Coach thought maybe we try one of Daniela and I’s old routines minus the tricks just so we can, you know...Get a feel for eachother?”  He cringed a bit at the last part, hating how awkward this all felt, and knowing when they got on the ice it’d look that way as well.

[maura1x1]

andromachewrites​:

Practical was the word that those who knew her were mostly likely to choose to describe her or perhaps even level headed but Ayana preferred focused to both of them. The household in which she was raised was far from lacking in love but there had been a seriousness to it. Whether that stemmed from the Nelson’s long history with the military or not she didn’t particularly think too much about when it didn’t hugely affect things but what she did know was that it meant all of her kin had a habit of using as few words as needed to get their points across and she was no different. In her mind there was no sense in being anything but straight to the point and in her experience the people that she was working with vastly preferred a no nonsense approach to someone trying to put whistles and bells on things.

Interactions weren’t something that she generally struggled with, even if they were sometimes a little devoid of emotion, but she knew that she had almost made something of a faux pas earlier and she’s glad that he seemed to have taken it in good humour rather than thinking she was prying. It wasn’t so much relief she felt but she did find herself exhaling slightly as she watched him talk, unable to keep herself from raising a brow at his apparent predicament. A smile tugged at her lips, finally conceding to give him some sort of personal answer. “I don’t think you can ever go wrong with an In-N-Out.” Pausing slightly she surprises herself by continuing. “As for taking your mother out, I’m sure she’d understand. Although if you need some other excuse than succumbing to burgers, most painkillers are actually known to suppress hunger.”

Clearing her throat slightly, she grasps onto the chance to get back to work when she never really liked her personality - or perhaps what some might harshly deem to be a lack of one when she preferred to be quiet rather than fill the silence - being up for analysis. Nodding slightly when he said that it was itching, she did her best to reassure him that it was nothing to worry about. Experience and her upbringing had taught her that being too complicated was never well received but rather give the facts and answer any questions that the patient might have had. “That’s normal, unfortunately, it should pass with time but I’m sure we can get you something for it if it’s really bothering you.”

A little frown touched her brow as he explained what his knee was feeling like, already trying to work out what it was that could have been causing the sensation. His honesty was something that she could appreciate when so many tried to keep things from her in their eagerness to get back to work only to make the situation worse for themselves. “That is not so normal.” The words were said lightly, doing what she could to keep the ambience at least reasonably upbeat when he’d set a lighter tone with his story about the burger he maybe shouldn’t have had. “But I’ll take a look and I’m sure we can figure it out.” Taking a few steps closer, Ayana motioned to the bed. “I just need you to lie back for now.”

                                        ⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰

He couldn’t help the small bubble of pride that he felt in his chest as she saw her lips tug into a smile.  He may have not won the war quite yet, but it did feel like a victory of a battle.  He wasn’t so sure why he always had the need to get people to smile, all he knew is it started when he was young.  His mother always said that she was his ray of sunshine after his father left, making her smile with his toddler antics.  Maybe he felt it was his job to do so, and seeing people upset made him uncomfortable, or perhaps he hoped that if he endeared them to him just enough, they wouldn’t leave.  Naturally, neither were things he’d ever self reflect on, the idea of deep soul searching not one he was fond of.

“In-N-Out fan, duly noted.” he responded with a raised brow, before they both shot up at her suggestion that he could use the painkillers as an excuse.  “Doc Nelson, are you suggesting I lie to my mother?” his face had turned serious, no hint of a smile on his normally grinning mouth, he only held the face for a moment though before letting her off the hook with a scoff and a chuckle.  “Obviously you’ve never met a Portuguese mother.  They got human lie detectors built in.  She always told me it was right here.”  He finished, finger held up to the hollow behind his ear.  “She’d always touch it when she thought I was lying, and then I’d immediately confess.”  With he and his mother being the only true family the other had in the world, the two were obviously close, but even as he had grown, become a man, that really hadn’t changed.  Even if she wasn’t a human lie detector, he wouldn’t have had secrets from her.  He respected her opinion and valued her advice too much to hide anything from her.

He could tell she was trying to steer the conversation back to much less personal things, and at least for the moment, he let her take the wheel.  “Nah, don’t worry about it, i’ll just keep patting it like I just had braids put in, it’s fine.” There was that ole’ army attitude, the refusal to show weakness, to scoff at anything that could relieve any discomfort, preferring to ‘tough it out’.

But he followed orders, laying back on the table, before trying to give her more context.  “It’s just weird because there are days where it’s perfectly fine, even if it’s a day where I’ve been more active, but then it’ll seem to randomly pick days to act up, with no reason to cause it.  It’s not like i’ve tripped or twisted it, it’s not raining---I just wish it could make up it’s mind, you know?”

[andromachewrites]

When she’d first heard from Harley after almost a decade of silence, she hadn’t known quite which of her emotions was the most overwhelming. The first had been hurting, that ache in her chest that had taken years to heal suddenly starting to throb again as she was reminded of what she had lost. What she had chose to lose to chase stability. It might have paid off and she might now have countless writing credits to her name but there were still countless times over the years that she had wondered if she could go back and make the choice again, if she would pick the same outcome. 

( it didn’t matter that it had been the right choice at the time, it still felt too much like she had abandoned him ) 

Next had came perhaps the most treacherous emotion of them all - hope. Just a little spark of it that had burst into uncontrollable flames that he might finally be reaching out after all these years. That perhaps they’d at least be able to salvage a friendship from the bond they’d severed. That hope was quickly extinguished though as disappointment washed through her at hearing the reason for his call. After that point she wasn’t sure what she felt - numbness perhaps? but not from a lack of feelings but rather far too many to process.

But despite of her reservations she’d still used up her owed holiday time and caught the first flight she could to Nashville. He still had that pull even after all these years. 

As she waited for him in the little cafe, she privately cursed her habit for being early when it just meant that she had to wait in anxious anticipation. She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d straightened her skirt or re-tucked her hair behind her ear when she lifts her gaze to see him finally approaching. “Harley, hi.” Smile flickered over her lips, hesitant but still warm. After a moment she finally finds something to say, perhaps slightly cliche but nonetheless genuine. “It’s good to see you.” Good to see him looking so well.

@maura1x1​

[maura1x1]

Despite all the work Harley had done on himself; all the soul searching and closet cleaning and grave digging, he still felt very much like the young, lost boy she left behind when as he waited for her to answer the phone.  

He had deleted her number long ago, to keep himself from calling.  Well rather, from calling drunk, as he had almost done so many times.  He might’ve been his own personal wrecking ball, but had refused to be hers.  Only now, with only good (and sober) intentions, he was left scrambling through google pages and calling other long lost connections to see if they had any idea on how to reach her.  At times, a small part of him secretly hoped he’d never find her, so he wouldn’t have to call about the song, never have to hear the lilt in her voice that had always made his heart skip beats.  He was scared of what she would say.  He knew he deserved anything and everything that could and should fall from her lips, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

These expectations he had set, had chosen to wear as armor so whatever she said wouldn’t hurt as much, were ripped away and he was left cold as she agreed, even saying she’d come to Nashville.  Days leading up to her return were spent attending both morning and evening meetings, even a lunch meeting or two.  Several coffee dates with his sponsor had eased him to the point that he was fairly sure a rejection from her wouldn’t send him spiraling, as repudiation so often had in his past.

He knew he didn’t resemble the Harley she had met, had fallen for, but he also knew he no longer looked like the one she left, and he was proud of himself for that.  But despite the pride he couldn’t stop himself from straightening his cuffs and running nervous hands through dull brown locks on his way over to the cafe.

Just as she had on the phone, her voice caught him off guard, and he was suddenly thrust into a past where his silly nickname for her was okay to use, despite it being the present, where it most definitely was not.  “Heya, Rose-ums.”   

He wished he had arrived first, so he didn’t just have to stand there, unsure if there was going to be a hug or a handshake.  If he had been first he could’ve at least pulled out her chair for her.

“Can I get you somethin’ tro drink?  Irish Breakfast still your go to?”

[maura1x1]

andromachesmuses‌:

Dead end jobs had become something of a fixture in her life, the one thing that she could always count on to be there no matter where she went or what she did. Perhaps it was a little sad that there wasn’t more to her life than whatever job she could find but there was no time or room for self pity if she wanted to continue to get by. Lessons had been learnt that life didn’t wait for anyone, you took whatever stability came your way and made it work. The world kept on turn and she had grasped onto whatever was solid to keep herself steady. There was nothing left worth tying her to her past, family having abandoned her too many times before, so she made do with long, thankless hours to keep a roof over her head.

Who needed family when you had a grease filled dinner, disinterested at best and vile at worst customers and coworkers who wanted to be there almost as little as you did?  

There was maybe a part of her that wanted something more for herself rather than the almost nonexistence that she was currently living but to Maite hope had always been something of a dangerous thing when it had only ever led to disappointment in the past. The idea of packing up and leaving was one she never truly let go of when there was always something so appealing about disappearing off into the night without any word. That was when her self inflicted isolation felt freeing, nothing to tie her down and the whole world out there.

Eyes flicker from him to his coffee cup and the amount of sugar that is being poured in, brow raised in amusement when she’d always preferred hers black. “You not sweet enough already?” She wasn’t particularly in the habit of making continued conversation with customers when most found some way to make the interaction turn uncomfortable, inappropriate or both in record time. But there was currently nothing better to do and his company was preferable to wiping tables or organising salt shakers.

Nodding like she knew what he was talking about, Maite made a mental note to listen to both when she eventually got him if only to see if his taste was as varied as it sounded. With her own musical knowledge so limited she didn’t truly have a reply so his words are welcomed, with her all too happy to switch to slamming the diner. “Oh insult away, in fact we have a handy form somewhere if you would like to make a formal complaint.” She didn’t owe them anything and best she could tell Carl still hadn’t returned from his prolonged break. “They’ve never listened to me but maybe they’ll take your word for it and you can save all our ears.” 

“If you do get round to it just make sure you give me a glowing report, I could use the pay rise.” The corner of her lips tugs up to form something of a wry smirk before it shifts into what Maite would call her best customer service smile. 

“Ha, funny.” He responded sarcastically as he continued his mission to become diabetic as fast as possible, assuming she was teasing and not coming onto him with a pickup line from the dark ages.  His father had tried to instill in him that a man should only drink black coffee, and anything less was perceived weakness? Or some small dick energy bullshit like that.  It had been a long time since Arlo paid attention to anything that came out of his father’s mouth, mostly because it was usually whiskey-cigarette breath, insults, or vomit.  The few times he saw him a year, to drop off money, the young man kept their interactions as short and sweet as possible.  He wasn’t exactly sure why he still went to visit him, he could always send the money in the mail (hell, why was he even giving him money?), but la familia viene primero were the words driven into him over and over again throughout his childhood, despite his so-called familia being nothing more than people connected through DNA and necessity.  No love lost there.  

He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about all of that now, but he could only imagine it had something to do with being back in the place he spent so many days and nights, practically glued to his mother’s hip.  The woman from him also reminded him of her a bit, she had the attitude at least.  The dark hair and eyes, but not much else.  But it was enough to help the nostalgia he was already feeling hang around.

“Or hey, y’all could just hire me as your in-house DJ.  Would play some stuff to send some of the assholes runnin’ for the door.” He said out the corner of his mouth, a sense of mock secrecy as he tipped his head and pointed a sly finger in the direction of a man with a confederate flag trucker hat sitting on top of his balding head.  --- “But i’ll make sure to do that.  I doubt they’re payin’ you even close to enough.  And I’m guessin’ this crowd is tippin’ much.” he replied with a small shake of his head.  The fact that businesses were able to get away with paying service workers less than minimum wage just because their supposed tips were supposed to make up for it was something that he could never understand.

He didn’t usually talk this much and when he did it usually wasn’t anything nice, but once again, being in a place he had spent so much time in with a woman in the same profession he had seen his mother break her back in, he felt the need to be almost overly nice.  Honestly, he probably said more words to this woman who he didn’t even know the name of than most of his ‘colleagues’ (if you could call them that). 

“Your shift startin’ or endin’?” he asked out of curiosity.

[maura1x1]

benjamingdi‌:

“Not my fault you didn’t specify,” Benjamin huffed, and decided against saying something about the spa comment. “Still more than you can say. I – shut up, you should hold onto your soap. They would eat you up.”

“Eat me up?  I’ll take that as a compliment.  So thank you.” he grinned, looking away from the road for a moment to give Ben a cheeky wink.  “But maybe talking about jail while on our way to a possible debaucherous weekend is bad luck, maybe a change of subject is in order.  Are you excited for this weekend?  Know anything about the lineup Mr. Record Label?”

[maura1x1]

reds1x1s‌:

Being back home for so long, Max thought he would feel.. Stagnated. That was the feeling of dread Maddox always filled him with. This place had claws it could sink into you and make leaving feel like an impossible dream. But right now, his life was actually comfortable. Staying with Alexei and helping out with his siblings. He’d even gotten a part time job down at the craft store. Most importantly though, Colette. Having her back in his life was almost like a new contradictory feeling every day. Were they regressing? Moving forward? Strangers? Friends? Who even knew. She was there for him though. Constantly there for him. After heaving a chair out the door to make room for new ones, it had let out quite the crash on impact. With a wince, Max stepped back inside, a light sheen of sweat coating his skin as he turned the corner. 

“Sorry about the noise – I didn’t scare you, did I?”

Sometimes Colette thought of her relationship with Max was like a drug.  Going by that reasoning, would she consider this a relapse?  Maybe.  But this time felt different.  Maybe it was because she knew who she was now.  She wasn’t the half baked girl that Celeste Dubois had formed from the amnesiac Delia Cartwright.  She wasn’t the lost waif wandering around Maddox looking for love.  She was someone else now, someone she had worked hard to learn about, to build up.  But there was still the fact that as soon as she could feel Max suffering, she had pushed everything aside to stay and help.  Although putting life on hold whilst immortal didn’t seem too big of a sacrifice. 

But just like any addictive substance, as Max walked in, Colette knew that if her heart still beat it’d be beating a frantic tattoo, and despite no need for breath, she found herself breathless.  Her eyes roamed the entire scene in front of her; the sun streaming in from the door creating an angelic backlighting to his sweaty, shirtless entrance.  She knew he was the artist between the two but...Well she’d love to sketch his form, capturing it for permanence.

His words couldn’t even break her out of her stupor as she stared at him, dish and rag frozen in hand.  She hadn’t ever felt like this.  She had fallen in love with scrawny, dirty, covered-in-paint next door Max, having never been one to pay attention to appearances.  Her desire for him had always been based off who he was, not what he looked like.  So this feeling?  Completely new.

“I uh---Oh, no.  I know better than to be caught off guard by Alexei and your’s destructive cacophony at this point.  I  broke one glass because of it and I’m determined to let that be the only casualty.”

[maura1x1]

kaspersauer‌:

“Oh, god,” Kasper exclaimed, a huff of air leaving his chest, “a bed. You’re right.” He hadn’t even thought that far – which was either just like him or not like him at all, he couldn’t even decide right now… which was also just like him, his brain constantly alternating between how it decides to run. Honestly, he was just exhausted and he hadn’t even realized how much he really was until now, now that there was no immediate danger or reason to stay as alert as he could be. It was a relief to be in a sturdier shelter, with the thought of a bathroom, and beds, and room to stretch without having to look over your shoulder every other second.

He figured they could use whatever was left here for supplies before using what little they had left of what they brought with them from Noah’s apartment and his place, though maybe they should have brought their things in anyway just to round it up and see what they had left. Noah broke him from thought, and he grinned. “No, I hadn’t even gotten to that thought yet. Bladder got ahead of me.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure how many rooms there are, but it looks like they might have had a kid,” he pointed to the high chair standing in the kitchen, “so there’s probably at least two.” 

Noah’s height suddenly hit him again, and he looked the guy up from his feet. It just wasn’t something he’d been paying attention to with everything going on. He’d barely given it a second’s notice when they’d first met, and since then they’ve mostly been sitting in the car, and trying not to, like, die, so it wasn’t a notice he’d paid any mind to. Now, most people might have been tall to Kasper, but this guy was like… really tall. It was almost comical – or he was just really tired. Kasper gestured to Noah, a quiet laugh hanging on his words, “If there’s a kid’s room, I’ll take that and you can have the bigger bed. If you want.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“What I do mind… is how the lack of showering. I need one.” He peeked outside. It was pretty deserted, but it was probably better to be safe than sorry. “But first, do you think maybe we should get everything in from the car? I didn’t think about it, but it might be good to see where we’re at with our supplies and stuff. Uh, and then we can like… lock the place up and stuff…?” As he spoke, he started feeling heavier and heavier, his body, his words, his brain, heavy. God, he was aching to be able to relax.

Noah felt a bit silly at how much not having things he took for granted was affecting him.  He had camped before, and granted while he had never been a fan of it (mostly for missing said amenities), he had done it numerous amounts of times with his dad and brothers.  He tried to cut himself some slack though, camping was relaxed, and sometimes could even be fun, two words that could not be applied to their current situation.   “Although to be completely honest, give me a long enough of a haystack and I’d probably be just as happy.”  It was true, while he was looking forward to a bed, any sleeping arrangement where his long legs weren’t squished under and constantly bumping a glove box was ideal.

As Kasper spoke of the things he observed, Noah was a bit in awe.  He wasn’t the most observant of his surroundings (something he’d definitely have to improve on, now), and even stone cold sober and fully rested, Noah probably would’ve walked right by the high chair without a second thought.  But the fact that this guy, on only a couple hours of sleep in days (definitely less than himself, Noah thought), noticed it and made the connection while Noah could barely take care of base needs, was impressive.  And something he thought was going to come in handy during however long this thing lasted.  It was obvious Noah drew the long stick in this partnership.

But as he continued on the subject of rooms, Noah’s stomach began to squirm, the thought he had in the car coming back.  The thought of being in a room, alone, in the dark and completely vulnerable made him a bit nauseous, but having already failed every single one of the tests laid before him so far, Noah didn’t want to be the weak link, too afraid to sleep alone.  For fuck’s sake, he might as well ask for a night light.  

“Oh, uh, thanks, Man.” He nodded, realizing exactly why Kasper had been seemingly sizing him up, maybe having realizing what hell sleeping in the car had been for his lanky frame.  “Although...---” he paused, not knowing if what he was thinking was out of fear or might actually be a good idea “Do you think it’d be a good idea to, I don’t know....Do shifts?”  Sure, he’d still be alone both while sleeping and keeping watch, but he knew he’d feel better knowing someone was keeping an eye out, and he figured Kasper might feel the same?  Although, he didn’t know him well enough to be sure about that, although he did seem to be a cautious guy.

He nodded in agreement to his statement about the need for a shower, and even chuckled softly.  “I can get with that.  Honestly, in the car I think my brain like disowned my nose, because I swear I couldn’t smell anything, but now--...Well, I think barnyard animals may even steer clear of us.”  He lifted the collar of his t-shirt and stuck his nose quickly under, only confirming his words.

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds smart.---If you want, I could get started on bringing it all in while you hit that shower?”  He offered, trying to make up for the almost fatal slip up earlier, although he knew he’d have to offer a million little things like that before even coming close.

[maura1x1]

@reds1x1s

Colette had been spending more and more time at the Morevna house over the last two or so weeks (having pushed back her flight home multiple times to do so).  She had convinced herself that it was to help Alexei and the girls, but she’d be lying if said she didn’t like spending time with Max again (and if if she did try and pass off that lie, any number of people would call her bluff).  It was something that felt comfortable, like putting on an old, favorite sweater after getting drenched in a sudden down pour.  Even if that sweater suddenly had shoulders broad enough to carry, well, just about anything, and taut muscles that seemed to b---Her gaze refocused on her chore of cleaning dishes when she heard a crash.  Looking out the kitchen window, Colette was unsurprised to see a new mess forming.  Countless pieces of furniture, clothes, and glassware had been lost to the Morevna boys’ new quest to fix up the house. 

[maura1x1]

kaspersauer‌:

“Hey, don’t worry,” Kasper assured him as they pulled over, shrugging a shoulder. The world was literally ending, everyone was dying, – or… undying? – and based on the sights they’d seen, Kasper thought they were faring this apocalypse pretty well. He cleared his throat and gave a nod then, opening the door to switch sides with Noah. The two moved faster than a handful of teens playing Chinese Fire Drill, fear in their guts even though the road appeared to be as deserted as it could be. 

The gas gauge showed that they still had three quarters of a tank since their last stop for fuel, a worry that he could knock off his mental list. Making a U-turn on the empty highway, he looked over to an exhausted looking Noah. “So, I think the house was just like a mile up.” He bit his lip and studied the road ahead, looking for the hidden place he’d managed to catch when he’d woken up. “There,” he mumbled, turning off the highway and onto a long grassy drive the owners must have made from years of driving up and down it. He’d instinctively used a turn signal despite the fact that there was… no one, and technically laws had no meaning anymore. He figured it’d be a while before he got those habits out of his system. 

He pulled the car pulled to a stop in front of the house, all by its lonesome away from the highway and everything else. There were no other cars, and it had been a few days since the hell had broken loose –, “Hopefully no one’s home.” He sighed and turned the car off. He figured they might as well leave supplies here until they found out if it was empty or not. Inhaling slowly, he grabbed a weapon from the backseat and found the courage to pull himself out of the vehicle and begin his way up the porch. 

Trying the handle, he found the door unlocked. He pushed it open and peeked inside. “Hello?” he called, but no reply. No sound at all. He took a step in, peeking around the foyer to see a kitchen with cupboard doors open, and on the other side a living room with a few things strewn about. He returned to the car, nodding at Noah. “It’s empty.” He opened the back door to pull out the bag he’d packed full of clothes, the house looking like it’d provide any other amenities he might have packed besides his clothing. 

“I can’t wait to use an actual toilet that’s not a gas station toilet,” Kasper sighed, a light laugh hanging on his words. As sad as that was, it was true. Maybe too much information, but he’d never been particularly modest in some aspects, and with their new predicament, he supposed there really wasn’t much room for being shy in that way anyway.

Despite the other’s insistence of ‘don’t worry’, Noah was racked with guilt and his stomach was tied up in one huge knot.  He literally could have straight up killed them.  He had assumed his own stupidity would kill him one day, but only him.  The idea that it could’ve killed someone else made him feel like he was gonna be sick.  He wasn’t sure if the blonde was keeping it calm, cool and collected to keep from riling Noah, but he still couldn’t believe that it hadn’t affected him somehow.  If Noah were him he’d never trust himself again.  But regardless, he was grateful.

Even after switching places, Noah couldn’t relax, now wide awake as his mind replayed his mistake over and over, barely paying attention as Kasper commented on the house they were searching out.  He snapped out of it as the car jolted along the unpaved road leading up to the house.  The house was worn enough that it could’ve been awhile since someone had lived there, or it could’ve just been well loved (or well ignored, depending on whether one saw the glass half full or empty)

The house looked...Lonely.  It was an aesthetic he was used to, his own house growing up having the same look.  But it was one that unsettled him all the same.  Growing up in the middle of nowhere but living (and loving living) in the city for the past couple of years making him a child of both wide open spaces and high rises.  He was simultaneously comfortable and disconcerted by the house that stood alone among the trees with no other structures in sight.

Having made the decision that he trusted Kasper, as much as he could for only knowing him for a couple days, Noah had planned to grab his hidden knives out of his bag as they explored.  But as Noah went to reach into the backseat to grab them, he realized Kasper had went ahead without him.  He was...Offended?  Only momentarily though, realizing with all the impressions he had given his new partner, of course the guy thought Noah wouldn’t be joining him in the quick scouting mission.  He had frozen both times when they came upon a zombie and had nearly driven them off the road.  Not the best or most reliable track record so far.  But that thought only steeled Noah’s resolve.  He was used to disappointing people, it was a habit of his.  But ‘letting someone down’ in this new world wasn’t just disappointing them, it was life or death. 

So as Kasper checked out the house, Noah finished digging his knives and thigh holster out of his bag before strapping it to himself.  Once settled, he took the only knife he had ever actually liked and gracefully flicked it open, holding it up to his face to look at the edge.  Despite being unused for so long, it was still fairly sharp, as Noah always kept it closed away.  

The way the blade caught the light was a bit hypnotizing, and Noah began to imagine what he might have to use it for.  He was sure he would’ve started spiraling if it wasn’t for Kasper shaking him from his thoughts.  Dude had good timing.  --- Noah nodded absentmindedly to Kasper’s ‘all clear’ announcement, before deftly flicking the tang closed and slipping it back into it’s place in the holster.  

He moved to help with the unpacking of supplies, only to realize that Kasper seemed to only be grabbing his personal items, and Noah followed suit.  Guess they weren’t going to be staying that long.  

Noah looked up as he heard the blonde...Chuckle?  And he couldn’t help but with respond with one of his own.  It was the little things, right?  “I can’t wait to sleep in something other than a Sonic’s bucket seat.”  he hit back, a small smile tugging at his lips.

The porch stairs creaked ominously as they made their way up them, and despite Kasper’s confirmation that the house was safe, Noah’s free hand still twitched above his holster.  He wasn’t sure if he’d have the balls to use them, but he could already tell having them close helped his state of mind.

His chest heaved with a sigh of relief as the door swung open and he realized the house wasn’t deserted after all, Kasper not having mentioned it when he came back to the car.  It would’ve been just their luck to stumbled upon a deserted junkie den or something of the like.  

“Already called dibs on a bedroom while you were checking it out?” Noah asked, somewhat in jest.  Although, to be honest the idea of sleeping alone after everything and after being only a car console away from another person for the past couple of days ignited nervous butterflies in his stomach,