we are fire & gold

in the afternoon, you're o u t on the stone & grass. and i'm sleeping on the balcony after class.

[mcsochisms]

liightningirl:

Holden was king on campus in his own right, running the Greek game from the moment he pledged. He carried his father’s charisma and his mother’s confidence, and every room he entered belonged to him. Despite hating stuffy black-tie events like Greek life fundraising galas, he always seemed to be a hit in a tuxedo, and he found himself thoroughly exhausted after just fifteen minutes of empty greetings and superficial small talk. Sitting in the presidential position required his attendance, however, and to ensure things wouldn’t get boring, he spiffed up his royal pack of dogs, gave them each a couple glasses of pre-gala whiskey, and kept them at the ready for the next time a cougar divorcee tried to make him a step-father. The night was moving along slowly, and his skin itched for laughter and chaos, but he knew– per his mother’s request– that he needed to be on his very best behavior.

The champagne wasn’t cutting it, and as he fell into a chair behind his namecard, he finished off the whiskey in his glass and pulled a flask from his jacket pocket– pouring the liquid over ice. His eyes scanned the room for a long thirty-seconds, but they dropped when he realized who he was searching for. He didn’t want to admit it to himself; part of him hated her for the disappointment he felt when he couldn’t find the tiny brunette anywhere in the crowd. He cursed under his breath and lifted the glass to his lips, grinning as his boys fell into the seats around him, slowly getting rowdier. He was in the middle of placing bets during a heated game of Misses or Mistress when his phone vibrated violently. He pulled it from his jacket and smirked at the screen, feeling a hint of accomplishment when Maggie’s name made itself boldly present at the top of a demanding text. 

“Well, boys,” Holden sighed, pushing up from the table and tossing his flask to his right hand man and vice president, “I’m sneaking out. Catch you back at the house. Don’t cause too much trouble.” He ruffled his friend’s hair and strode off, typing a message as he went. ‘Ask nicely.’ He moved tentatively through the crowd, patting shoulders and kissing cheeks as he was caught here and there on the way out. He was irritated by the eagerness he felt to see her but kept himself composed as he stepped out into a lush backyard. He took air into his lungs in a deep inhale and loosened the tie around his neck, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt and making himself a little more comfortable. He followed the stone path that lead to a stone bench and put on a charming grin when he saw her.

“Have you no manners, Southern Belle?” Holden quirked an eyebrow up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I could use a please. A ‘I want to see you’, or something,” he gave a half shrug and gestured to the bottle she held, “of course I only came for the alcohol.” He lifted his chin, taking her in for a moment before moving to sit on the opposite side of the bench. “So, Mags,” he tilted his head just slightly, looking her in the eyes as he spoke, “where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you around the house in a week or so. You can’t be that busy.” 

Just as Maggie was getting accustomed to the loney, distant buzz of the party and the night sky, she heard footsteps coming from the direction of the house. She heard his voice before she saw his shadow cast by the pale yellow light of the festivities behind them. "Why do you insist on calling me 'Southern Belle'?" She was always ready to protest every word that dripped from his perfect lips, purple for the sport of debate. Magnolia was prepping another quip as she lifted her head. Her gaze lifted to meet her companion and suddenly, she was breathless. He was brighter than all of the stars in the sky above them, but she would never utter such a compliment.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at what appeared to be faux-complaint. "I don't beg for company, Holden. I'm too good for such petty delights." A soft chuckle left her lips, though she soon cleared her throat to disguise it. As he took his seat next to - yet much too far away from- her, she extended her right arm, offering the bottle of alcohol she held in her dainty hand. "I only invited you because you're the only one I know that won't make a total fool of yourself from drinking." What lies. 

There was something about Holden that made her feel as though she could drop almost every ounce of the facade she wore in public. He, at times, made her feel understood, though she'd never dare show him the true inner workings of her soul. However, she was comfortable enough with him to let down her walls just a touch. With a delighted sigh, she kicked off her champagne toned high heels and proceeded to crush her painted toes into the grass beneath her. "If I didn't know any better," she began, a taunting, yet slightly flirtatious tone in her voice, "I'd say you were looking for me. Did you miss me, Pretty Boy?"

Rather effortlessly, Maggie slid across the bench, making it so that the distance between them was merely inches now. As the air cooled around them, she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. The very notion of it caused goosebumps to dance along her spine. "I have been rather busy, in fact." A forced smile stretched its way upon her cherry painted lips. "My father was in town for a few days, I was catching up with him. As well as studying, you know how important it is." There's a hint of sadness and disappointment in her voice. She did try to catch up with her father, but he barely had any time for her. Business as usual, she was told. She wouldn't admit it to herself, but that might have been the reason for dragging the golden boy out for a drink tonight. "What about you? Were you too busy to reach out?"

[mcsochisms]

liightningirl:

Savannah’s feet were still sore from an evening of rehearsals and classes, but black leather boots were a surprising relief for her toes. The walk from her apartment to a conglomeration of locally owned bars was short and scenic - a perk of being a senior. After three years of living in a distinctly charming southern town, she still found herself in awe of Charleston’s endless charm. Back home in Miami, skyscrapers made of chrome and neon signs lined the streets; Charleston was softer, more homey. Buildings of stone and brick huddled together to house an inviting college campus with a quad that could outshine Central Park. Hand painted signs advertised boutiques and restaurants and upcoming events. The entire city - downtown to campus to neighborhoods - was so picturesque it could’ve been the set of a Disney Channel original movie, and Sav loved it, especially in the fall. 

She stuffed her hands into her pockets, inhaling cool air and exhaling the stress of senior year. Her feet kicked at dead leaves as her best friend too long strides next to her, black curls wild in the wind and mouth running a million miles a minute. Maci had been her roommate freshman year, and they’d been inseparable ever since– stealing hearts and conquering college side-by-side, one day at a time. They told each other everything, no secrets went unshared and no judgment was ever passed. There was an immense amount of trust, loyalty, and honesty between the two of them which created a safe space where they could say anything and the other would give an honest opinion. “I just don’t get why he’s so serious all the time,” Maci groaned, tucking her phone into her back pocket. Savannah took a deep breath and threw her arm around her best friend’s shoulders, shaking her head. “Maybe it’s because his head is buried in upper level biochem and he’s ready to graduate, get a good job, and make six figures so he can buy you a new car,” Sav poked fun at Maci’s on-again, off-again boyfriend–… and her on-again, off-again car. She paused as they reached the entrance and turned to her friend. “See this,” she motioned to the frown on Maci’s face, “is why I have commitment issues. Boys are too much work. You’re the one who talked me into going out tonight, so please–… let yourself have fun. I’m sure he’ll leave the library eventually and show up here and you’ll abandon me again like you guys usually do after an argument.” Maci rolled her eyes and agreed, snatching up Sav’s hand and pulling her inside.

The lighting was low and the music was loud, but laughter still carried throughout the building. It was one of Sav’s favorite places in Charleston; a place to watch away games during football season, the place she had her first legal drink, the first and last stop during post-finals bar hopping. The girls settled into their usual spot at the end of the bar and fell into a comfortable routine, rambling and laughing and offering hugs to friends that came and went. As the sun set and evening melted into nighttime, different crowds filtered in and out and Savannah became a third wheel, like she’d predicted. Maci and her boyfriend both planted a kiss on her cheeks before the flitted off and got lost in the crowd. She remained at the bar, ordering another drink and holding forgettable conversations with boys and girls alike who filtered in and out of the seat next to her. Her eyes wandered through the crowd as a guy from the basketball team talked her ear off, taking in familiar faces and making note of the unfamiliar ones. She found herself distracted by one person in particular, a man just a tad older than her with soft, handsome features and a mess of brown hair. She wasn’t sure what caused the intrigue, but for the first time in a while someone had undeniably sparked her interest.

And then he stood, and her heart dropped. “Tyler, it was so nice meeting you,” Sav’s eyes went back to the boy next to her and she offered him a sweet smile, “but I think your friends are calling you. See you on campus?” A pang of guilt surged through her chest as he took the hint, but it only lasted a moment as a tall brunette materialized next to her. A smile that matched his pulled at her lips as laughter passed over them. “I’m afraid I haven’t made it out too many times this semester,” she said, running a hand through her hair before adding, “so it’s very possible we’ve never crossed paths.” Savannah Vega was an incredibly confident person, but something about this boy made her confidence waver. He seemed kind and innocent, nothing but good intention and corruption waiting to happen. “I think I’m good in the drink department,” she raised her glass to show that it was full of a golden liquid, “but if you promise not to call me ma’am again, I could absolutely use some company.” She leaned forward and let her tone convey lightness, “Seriously, I don’t even let my students call me ma’am.” Sav gestured to the stool next to her, inviting him to sit, “I’m Savannah, by the way.”

For the first time in Chandler Burton's life, he felt almost out of his element. The ease with which the young woman spoke nearly knocked the wind from Chandler's lungs. He had met plenty of attractive females on the road, but there was something different about the petite brunette in front of him.  There was something about her effortless charm that caught him off guard, keeping his lips silent for perhaps a few seconds too long. "I don't know if too many people come out here, honestly. I always see the same ol' folks. Maybe that oughtta tell me somethin' 'bout myself," he chuckled, shuffling his feet. Was he feeling... awkward? As though he couldn't possibly impress the lovely lady in front of him? Possibly.

Sloshing the brew in his own cup around, chocolate brown eyes settled upon hers and a faint smirk tugged at his lips. He listened intently to every syllable that dripped from her lips, the words slidng into his ears like honey. While he tried to hold it back, Chandler couldn't help the hearty, bark of laughter that rattled from his chest at her mention of the word 'ma'am'. Seconds passed and he still struggled to regain composure, his cheeks filling in with a bright, rosy tone. "I ain't makin' any promises about not callin' you ma'am, but I'll do my best to make sure it don't happen again," he said with a nod, flashing a quick wink in her direction. 

Did he hear that correctly, students? She couldn't possibly be old enough to be a teacher, could she? He didn't want to come across as rude and pry such information out of her that early in the night, but he made a good effort to tuck the information in the back of his mind for a later time. His gaze turned to the stool next to her and with a subtle smile, he immediately obliged. Even sitting down on the warped, wooden stool, he nearly towered over her. Then again, at six-foot-three, it was hard for Chandler to not tower over anyone. The heels of his large, tattered, brown combat boots hit against the scuffed up floor. 

He learned forward against the bar, resting all of his weight on his covered elbows. Though he couldn't contain his fidgety movements, he struggled to keep his eyes off of her, even for a second. Finally getting comfortable after what felt like an hour, he confidently picked his head up and looked at her, the warm smile returning once again. "Well, Miss Savannah, ain't it my lucky night to be here? M'names Chandler, Chandler Burton. It's a damn pleasure to meet ya." He couldn't help himself as he winked at her again, something that appeared to be his rusty yet signature move. "Who knew a simple construction guy could run into a real like princess in the middle of a bar, eh?"

[mcsochisms]

@elcvates​ // There were few things in life Maggie hated more than going to fundraising dinners for her sorority. It wasn't that she didn't love the organization or her sisters with fiber of her being, it was that it reminded her far too much of home. Growing up as the only child of a senator was draining, truly. As a small girl, she spent far too much time going to galas and benefit dinner than she did being a child. To make matters worse, her mother almost always forced her into a too-tight, itchy, hideous design of hers to further sell her brand. Even at the age of twenty, she still managed to find herself in something too small and uncomfortable at the hands of her mother. 

Her only saving grace in it all was that it wasn't just for her sorority, it was for those in Greek organizations in general. That of course, meant the one man (or rather, boy,) that had ever captured her attention for longer than a weekend would be in attendance. Not that she'd ever confess to her excitement over his presence, but there was something about the other that seemed to soothe her as much as it riled her up. 

A complete sight to to behold in her sparkling champagne colored cocktail dress, the petite brunette maneuvered her way around the party to the wine cellar. Having the event be held on the grounds of her own house was a benefit, that was certain. She was breaking a few rules by stealing a bottle of the finest red that had in stock. It was clear that it was only supposed to be used for special occasions such as the event she was avoiding, rather than personal use, but if there was anyone to break rules for, it was Holden.

She clutched the bottle tightly in hand as she made her way back up to the main floor, the heels of her designer shoes clattering against the marble floor. Keeping her head down, soft, brown tendrils fell from her loose updo and hanged in front of her pale face. Magnolia quickly escaped the hubbub roaring around her as she moved from the house to the garden out back. Shrubbery all but glimmered in the bright moonlight that shone down upon them and the brunette. Carefully, she sat down on one of the stone benches that lined the lush landscaping. A long, thin hand reached into the top of her dress, in towards the left side of her bra to retrieve her phone. 'Out by the fountain. I've got alcohol. Get your ass here. No excuses.' She knew she'd spend hours doing her best to dance on his nerves, but she truly couldn't stop herself from wanting him near.

[mcsochisms]

@elcvates // Chandler Dean Burton had spent his entire life traveling. His first words were uttered in the back of a run down, rust-ridden 1965 Chevrolet Nova. He learned to walk on the stained carpet of a motel somewhere in Alabama. He fell in love for the very first time when he and his father 'settled down' for six months in Louisiana and he actually attended public school. There wasn't a moment that he was not on the road and he couldn't imagine his life without the hot asphalt beneath his vehicle. 

It had been that way since he was about five months old, at least that's what he was told. His mother, Laura, had died while giving birth, and left him the hands of his broken father Jimmy. The idea of living at home without his wife drove the man absolutely insane, to the point that he just picked the bare necessities up, and took off with his son. For the next nineteen years, Chandler and his father were absolutely inseparable. He followed in his father's footsteps and did odd jobs, construction, yard work, the occasional farming -- anything to make ends meet. The had traveled all over the country at least twice. And then it happened. The old man eventually fell dead to his battle with alcohol and his inability to sleep. While it shook Chandler to the very core, he followed in Jimmy's footsteps. He picked up what he had left and took off. 

Just five years later, Chandler found himself in Charleston, South Carolina, loosely contracted to help on a few building renovations. It was a rare thing for him, staying in one place for too long, but his contract gave a time -- he'd be in town for at least three months. Just long enough to get to know the local haunts and see the local girls. None of them had really caught his eye just yet, though. He hoped, secretly, that none of them would. It was always a pain in the ass to explain why he couldn't stick around. He was a rambling man, never destined to settle down.

It was around ten-thirty in the evening when he finally stumbled into the local bar, his clothes caked in dirt and grime for the day. He had just finished cleaning up the job site and packing his tools and quite frankly, the only thing on his mind was getting a drink. Chandler never once though of going after a girl after such a long day. Hell, had he even known anyone attractive would be there, he would have at least gone back to his motel and changed his clothes before heading out. Yet, as he sat there at the bar with his whiskey on the rocks, his dark brown eyes couldn't help but follow the silhouette of a beautiful brunette. He'd offer to buy her a drink, but he thought better of it. What if she's with friends? What if she doesn't drink? What if she thinks you spiked it or are a fuckin' creep? he thought to himself. Against his better judgment, the tall brunet stood up from his stool and slowly made his way over to her. His heavy steel-toe boots clunked against the floor with each step he took, only adding to the rough look that seemed to drape across his enitre being. "Hello there, Ma'am," he said in greeting. A bright, cheesy grin stretched across his face, causing the small dimples hiding beneath his scruff to finally show. "I don't think I've ever seen ya here before. Call me crazy, but I reckon I'd remember ya. Do you, uh... D'ya want a drink or somethin'?"