liability.

I USED TO IMAGINE ADVENTURES FOR MYSELF. i invented a life so that i could at least exist somehow.private & independent mumu.as told by mak.

[paiintedinflames]

starter for.  rowan fisher | @brutcllysoft​​ location.  the picnic table behind the diner. time.  late, after the dinner rush. 

In truth, Andy fucking hated working at the diner. The money wasn’t great, his coworkers were fucking annoying, and he hated getting through the dinner rush. But his annoying PO wanted him doing something more “legit” than working at the club, and he enjoyed cooking, so he reluctantly handed in the application. The last few months had been fairly predictable, with most of the other kitchen staff and waitresses/waiters opting steer clear of him. He couldn’t necessarily blame them -- It’s not like he was making himself particularly approachable, nor did he have any intention to do so. At least, that had been the case until a certain blonde entered his field of vision. His crush on Rowan was embarrassing, something he kept to himself -- It felt like he was fifteen again, sucked in because of what? Her flashing him a smile and saying a few words to him? Seriously? The last time he’d been in a relationship or even went out with someone had been years ago -- And he’d rather forget anything that had to do with his ex, Bethany. He wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of hooking up after a few drinks with Rowan, but Andy had a feeling he’d find a way to fuck that up. Instead, he ignores his own feelings, opting to put his focus in making greasy burgers and fries, rather than the way his heart skipped a beat each time she came back to the kitchen with a new order. 

Once the dinner rush is over and he can finally breathe instead of barking kitchen orders, Andy sneaks out for a much needed smoke break. It was a nasty habit -- He could smoke a pack a day if it weren’t for his own better judgment. Instead, he sticks to his nightly ritual of two for his break, waiting until the dishwasher and his hostess girlfriend came back in so that he’d be left with peace and quiet. Letting the door slam behind him, Andy moves across the pavement and to the pitiful looking picnic table management left them for ‘the opportunity to get fresh air comfortably’. Wood creaks as he sits on top of the table, balancing his half empty pack of cigarettes on his knee as places one between his teeth. The first inhale he takes as it lights calms him significantly, washing away the frustrations from earlier in his shift. The sound of the backdoor can be heard slamming as he rolls his shoulders, just for them to tense up again. “Jeff, if you start bitchin’ at me about peeling potatoes again I’ll fuckin’ break your kn -- Oh.” 

He stops dead in his tracks, having expected the annoying prep cook, only to find Rowan in his place. There’s a half moment where he pauses, immediately regretting the outburst. Instead of a proper apology, Andy takes another drag of his cigarette to calm his once again frazzled nerves. Her presence was something he quietly welcomed -- Mostly shown by not immediately telling her to fuck off and find a different spot for a break --  but she made him nervous enough that he couldn’t come up with anything to say. At least the cigarette helped, buying him enough time to string together something coherent to say. “You wanna smoke?” Is the best he can come up with, holding up his pack of Marlboro’s. Thankfully the nightfall covers the heat climbing up his cheeks. 

[dumbofassary]

STARTER FOR. @paiintedinflames​ ​(big head andy) LOCATION. Thane Auto Shop

He knew his best friend, or he liked to think so. He knew when he was struggling, it was pretty obvious, even when Wes was pretty oblivious to most things. This was important though, not just for him, but for his sister. Most importantly, Andy needed to be there mentally for Maddie and Ro. Wes would prefer he’d be there for him too but he knew that his family was more important in that aspect. “Listen, man,” He announced, cigarette in his mouth as he did so,  “I gotta favor to ask.” He didn’t even wait for his best friend to respond before continuing, “How the fuck am I supposed to add how much this guy owes without usin’ a calculator? Do they think I’m Einstein or something now?” He wanted to talk to him about way more than math but he needed a hook line and sinker to make sure he was actually listening. “So you gonna add this all up for me or what?”

[paiintedinflames]

It was difficult to keep up with how the relationships in his life had changed since he went to prison — And all the ways they stayed the same. Wes, for instance, had always been Andy's best friend. That hadn’t changed since he returned from prison, but his marital problems affected their friendship more than he liked — At least, on Andy's end, it had become a source of anxiety. If worse came to worst, he wouldn’t fault Wes if he cut ties with him. He was Rowan’s brother after all. Part of Andy knew he was just succumbing to his own anxieties, even if he tried to tell himself it was rational. It’s becoming easier and easier to let himself get caught up in a flurry of what if’s and hypotheticals when his marriage is, for lack of a better phrase, on the rocks. Pushing the thought from his mind, he takes another drag of his cigarette and turns his focus to whatever bullshit his best friend is about to ask of him. Knowing Wes, it could be anything from a beer run to 7/11, to armed robbery. Pushing smoke past his lips, he eyes the man in front of him before letting out an amused chuckle. 

“Use that thing between your ears, dipshit.” Andy points out, tapping his own temple with his free hand before taking another drag of his cigarette. Truthfully, he was pretty shit with math too, but he wasn’t going to admit to it. Leaning over, he glances at what Wes is working on. “Why the fuck aren’t you usin’ a calculator? This shit would go by a helluva whole lot faster.”

[thegrectwar]

– BASH DECKER 

@paiintedinflames​​

Bash knew that he shouldn’t have wanted to see Savannah after she’d come back into town and created a Hell of a whirlwind. He’d been toeing a line with Lori for as long as he can remember and yet with Savannah back in town, he can’t help but let her explain her reasons for leaving. He also can’t help that he can feel himself forgiving her— she hadn’t meant to hurt him like she did. Who would’ve thought that Bash would’ve held onto his pain for six years, nursing it like it was one of his steers on the ranch. 

And while he is well on his way to forgiving her— trusting Savannah is a whole separate thing. He knew that she was planning on staying but she’d said that before. Bash had never even thought that she’d stay away from Great Falls for as long as she did. Her whole life had been there but now, she’d found a new life, one that didn’t involve her ex. Bash had been in the same place, right where she’d left him, but yeah his life was different too. He’d found his footing running the ranch, trying to save and scrape every dollar to eventually own it again. He knew that the loan value would be massive but that never scared him away, with or without Savannah. And now he had Lori— sort of— who was standing behind him the whole way.

For that reason alone, he probably should’ve told Lori that he was meeting Savannah at one of their bars— the same one that he’d watched her dance around in. One that he’d fallen in love with her over and over again. This time, it was different. Hell, it was tainted. It was just a night that they could grab a beer and talk about the adventures she’d been on and the life he’d built in one place. While they’d been together as husband and wife, the root of all of that was that she’d been his very best friend. And he missed his best friend. 

“Sav,” he says as she enters the bar and joins him. He can’t remember the last time he’d been here with her or how different it might look now versus back then but what he can remember is what her favorite drink was here. He took the liberty of ordering it, sitting it in front of him while he picked whatever generic beer was on special. “I figured if you hadn’t already come here you might be missing that,” he smiles looking at the drink. “Unless your taste buds have changed since you left. I guess that could’ve happened. — I still eat everything off the grill so that hasn’t changed,” he says with a small laugh.

[paiintedinflames]

The first word that came to mind when Savannah thought of Bash was conflicted. Her ex-husband would always hold an important place in her heart — He was her first love, her best friend. For most of her life, he had been the most constant piece. There was a point in her life where Bash was the beginning and end for her.  He had been the one she saw herself raising a family with and the one she wanted to grow old with. The thought of that house on his parent’s land still made her chest ache. 

The vision she had for her future molded and differed from what she thought it’d be when she was younger — Even now, she finds it shifting. Hell, she would have laughed in your face if you told her a year ago she’d end up back in Great Falls, let alone face to face with none other than Bash Decker. He was the last person she wanted to speak to for a plethora of reasons, including the knots that formed in her stomach any time she thought of standing in front of him. She picks at her nail polish, unsure of what to expect from this. Closure? Comfort? Some Hallmark movie style reunion? The bouncing of her leg shakes the barstool, as she resists the urge to call him back and cancel. She debates on whether she should order another shot to calm her nerves. There’s something between comfort and disappointment that settles in her, knowing that even after six years — He’s still in the exact same place. Where she once admired the consistency, now she’s left wanting to shake him by the shoulders and say Don’t you get that there’s more than shitty town? 

She’s pulled from the thought by the sound of her own name coming from an all too familiar voice. Shit. No going back now. Savannah can’t help the small smile that comes with the sight of him. Despite the divorce and her departure, she’d still consider Bash to be one of her oldest and dearest friends -- Seeing him in person reminds her of that fact. “Hey,” It’s feels pathetic to greet him with a single word, though she’s not exactly sure how else to do this. A pang of sadness follows him ordering her favorite -- It’s not like it was anything particularly significant in the grand scheme, a rum and coke with lime. But the sentiment remains. As she turns in the bar stool to face him, she glances around them. This place had barely changed, too. They’d spent so many nights in this bar, drinking and laughing with friends, leaning on each other and sneaking kisses. Coming back years later as a divorced couple, one that hadn’t spoken in years? Savannah felt like she was in a confusing fever dream. “Thank you,” she nods as she takes the drink, sipping slowly as he speaks. “I’m more of an Old Fashioned girl these days,” she finds herself admit, brow arching. The exchange leaves her with a small reminder that even though he’s remained consistent -- He knows nothing about her. Not anymore, at least. “But I’ll never turn down a classic.” She holds up the drink in question for a cheers, before taking another sip in the hopes that it’ll mellow out the constant stream of emotions moving through her. 

Not sure where to even begin -- How do people do this? -- she says the first thing that comes to mind. Speaking her mind to him, every insignificant and minute thought, still feels like second nature. Now that she’s sitting in front of him, it feels like she’s pulled on an old sweater. No matter how much time has passed since she wore it last, Savannah knows the comfort will always be there. “You look good. You seem -- You seem really good.” Plenty of Facebook stalking as painted a picture for the latter. Two sentences in and she’s already drawn a blank on what to do. Instead of trying, Savannah settles into an uncomfortable silence of her own making, as she nurses her drink. A beat passes before she finds herself blurting out the obvious: “I’m sorry, this is just -- This is weird, isn’t it?” 

[marjcrie]

@briwrtes​

[kimsunhwa]

starter for.  sloane sawyer. location.  greece. time.  all throughout the evening, 6pm-11pm.

Being content was never something Keeton believed he would be. He was always an erratic man, always counting the minutes until his next “big moment”. And his life has been just that, a series of one big moment after another, never a beat of enough air to breath in between. You’d think he’d be worn out from the humungous state of his life. But, really, he was only just getting started.

With that leaves one thing to be discussed: Sloane Sawyer. Was she too a big moment? A large cog in his huge, well-oiled machine? In some ways, maybe. But, in hindsight, Slo was the most natural, simple thing in his entire existence. And, usually, Keeton Simmons didn’t bode well with simplicity. He was a wild man with an even wilder heart. Yet, here she was, calming his weathered storm. He had been holding onto a hurricane before her met Sloane.

“Alright, let’s do this.” The singer says to his reflection, attempting to hype himself up a little for the evening ahead. “Let’s fuckin’ do this, man. You’re sexy, you’re amazing, she loves you, you love her. Let’s fuckin’ do this thing.” Keeton leans in a little closer, noticing a silver strand of hair sticking out from his chin. A surge of pain courses through him in an instant, but before it can consume him entirely, Keeton takes in a deep breath. “Relax, man. You’re good.” He says under his breath, and he is good, he’s happy, he’s finally fucking content. And he’s going to ask Sloane Sawyer to marry him. 

“Let’s fuckin’ do this!” He hollers before turning to the bathroom door, yanking it open. “You ready, baby?! It’s date night!”

[paiintedinflames]

There’s a certain excitement that’s returned to Sloane’s life in the last three years -- It felt as though someone turned her favorite song up from a low hum to full volume, the sound filling the room with a comforting familiarity and energy. She knows exactly where and who is the source of it all: The man hollering before flinging the bathroom door open, prompting laughter and an ear to ear grin from her with his theatrics. “What was that, babe?” she calls back as if she missed him, closing her laptop as she speaks. The article she was working on could wait until morning. “I don’t think the people across town heard you.” Sloane teases as she crosses the room to reach him, arms wrapping around Keeton’s middle as her head tilts back to look up at him.

When she’d left New York City, Sloane believed Greece would be the best way to start over. Separating from her husband was a messy feat, one that consistently left her with a headache and a new problem for her lawyer to solve each day. Admittedly, the move had also been a means of not dealing with her problems — It was easier to accept returning to square one if the man you’re separated from is on another continent.

Athens had always been a favorite of hers, and it proved to be just what she needed. The separation — Both literal and legal — gave her the freedom she hadn’t felt in New York. It was easy to settle in, create a new name for herself. Keeton hadn’t been an anticipated part of all this, and frankly — She’d been hesitant in the beginning to believe his presence would be permanent. They were older, and hopefully wiser than they were at 22, so Sloane held onto the hope that finding each other again meant something. The last three years had been proof of that — What she was concerned would be a fling ending in another devastating heartbreak led to anything but. This was the kind of life she envisioned for them in her early twenties, but never thought she’d ever see come to fruition. Her inability to see past her own perspective and Keeton’s ego had buried that desire.

Yet, here she was a decade later. If that wasn’t fate or destiny or something in between, Sloane didn’t know what was. “What have you got up your sleeve?” With a soft smile at her features, she studies him for a moment in an attempt to read his mind. His tells are typically blatant. At least, they are to her. She eyes him with faux suspicion, both intrigued and eager to know. “I didn’t realize Greek food was that exciting.” 

[paiintedinflames]

starter for.  thatcher ward. | @goblinkingg​ location.  thatcher’s back porch. time.  evening, after dinner. 

Being surrounded by family still wasn’t something Quinn was used to. She hadn’t realized how much she missed the dysfunctional group until they were a daily part of her life again. For so long, it has just been her and her mother — The two of them against the world, with the occasional appearance from her father on a holiday. Thatcher’s side of the family was mostly kept up with via social media and text message, with an occasional in person visit every few years. And yet, it was somehow easier to create relationships with them than it was to find common ground with her father. She was trying (or at least, liked to say that she was trying), but couldn’t seem to see past the fog that is her resentment. 

Quinn was determined to figure this out, but her own emotions threatened to choke her during each awkward silence they shared. Feeling overwhelmed, she opted for a smoke break — It was a nasty habit, once she picked up from her years working in restaurants. After having to bite her tongue more than once, Quinn abruptly declared she’d be back in a minute. Not leaving any room for her father to question her, she made a beeline for the back door. The cool night air makes it easier to clear her head, though the small sparks of her dying lighter make the feeling short lived. She curses through muffle of the cigarette between her teeth, eyes rolling as she cups her free hand around the lighter, stubbornly attempting to ignite it.

She’d barely noticed Thatcher seemingly materializing beside her, the intrusion only pulling more frustration from her. What she’d hoped could be a moment to clear her head has proved to be the opposite. Finally giving up with a groan, she glances at him. Pulling the cigarette from her lips, she speaks. “I need a lighter.” The look on her face makes it clear she’s annoyed to even ask, leaving her wishing she’d said a goodbye and left rather than a smoke break. The voice in the back of her head -- The one that sounds a hell of a lot like her mother’s -- reminds her why she’s even here in the first place. “Can I borrow one?” She asks with an arched brow, it’s a simple question but it feels like a strange version of an olive branch. Tossing her dead lighter on the patio table, she huffs. “This piece of shit lasted all of two days.” Quinn’s not sure why she keeps talking, but somehow she can’t stop herself. “You should’ve warned me about the shit they sell at the gas stations here.” 

[devilwomcn]

REINA THANE + @paiintedinflames​​ LOCATION: Rhea and Cronus’s Home

Somehow, Jason’s wake is even worse than the funeral had been. At least there she’d been able to sit silently and play the part of grieving widow, a phony tear or two rolling down her cheek as a few friends, Rhea, and even Cronus managed to muster up some tribute about her husband that felt incredibly off-putting. His parents displayed him as a saint and his loyal followers spoke of him like he was Jesus Christ himself, dead too soon but soon to be resurrected to save them from their sins. Reina couldn’t think of a worse nightmare than her husband coming back to life just to kill her for her own sins against him. But they’d buried him after, she watched as his body lowered in the casket six feet underground and took comfort in the fact that if by some grace of God he was still alive, there’s no way out of the grave they put him in.

Now, at the wake, more is expected of her. She’s spent the majority of it fielding sincere condolences from older club members and people who didn’t really know her late husband, and anyone who did has still looked at her with pity or placed a hand on her shoulder that’s supposed to be comforting. It’s enough to make Reina sick. These people don’t realize what a relief it is to be rid of him, even those who know of his violent tendencies don’t know how often she’d been the one to endure them — they all must be thinking that poor woman, left alone with three young children and no husband to take care of her. And by what has to be the hundredth sorry for your loss of the evening, Reina’s had more than enough and steals away to the kitchen under the guise of helping Rhea put another pot of coffee on.

Andrew’s presence in the kitchen is a welcome one, her shoulders releasing the slightest amount of tension. He may be Jason’s brother by blood but the two of them know the man and his true colors maybe better than anyone else save for Rick, and she knows Andy is just as relieved as she is to see him gone. They haven’t spoken much since Rick had called him to help clean up the scene of the crime — to make it look like nothing more than the product of a decades long war started by none other than their own father — and Reina has never been great at expressing gratitude, but she’s more than thankful for Andrew and his help in this. For now, all she can offer him is a shot of tequila to express her thanks. “Cheers,” she speaks up, pouring a finger of liquor in two glasses already sitting out before she slides one in her brother in law’s direction. “I know this day can’t be much easier for you than it is for me. We may as well get a little drunk.”

[paiintedinflames]

.

The last week had been a whirlwind, to put it simply. From the moment he’d gotten the call from Rick, Andy had been caught between grief and feeling relieved. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to the lack of Jason’s presence, but he’s certainly happy to go without it. The latter was kept to himself, as he feigned sorrow over the tragic loss — Though nothing compares to the Oscar worthy performance Reina has put on. Anyone who knew them could see she and Jason were nothing close to a loving couple, not in any form. The way she’s kept her composure through the funeral and every I’m sorry for your loss is impressive, to say the least. Thankfully he’s only been met with claps on the shoulder and head nods in a more wordless way of showing support. It’s easy for people to see the distant look in his eye and sag of his shoulders and assume he’s mourning. His mother is truly inconsolable and his father seems more inconvenienced than anything — But Andy knows the relief he feels is shared among Reina, Rick, and Rowan. They’re better off without the eldest Thane son.

He knows better than to check on her or ask how she’s doing — If there’s anyway who understands being caught in a mixture of emotions over Jason’s death, it’s Reina. Though, he’s certain that for her, she’s leaning more towards relief than anything. There’s no need to ask the obvious; She’s in the same boat as him. Plus, Andy knows any questions (regardless of social graces or sincerity) would be met with a biting remark and anger. He doesn’t see the point in putting himself in the line of fire.

They haven’t had many chances to actually speak since the incident, at least not in an honest manner. Asking where her head is at after he helped Rick move Jason’s lifeless body isn’t something to be brought up with anyone around. The only way to make his older brother’s death look inconspicuous is their silence. Andy is more than happy to oblige — He's spent enough years in the club and around his father to know how to keep quiet. He plays his role and comforts his Ma — Though thinking of “fond memories” to share (Rhea’s suggestion) at the funeral was no simple feat. So he leaves Reina to her own devices, knowing she’s more than capable of handling herself. He still keeps an eye out, keeping distance but remaining close enough if she needs a hand — She is his family, after all. He was willing to cover a murder for her, watching her back is nothing.

They finally cross paths in the kitchen, secluded enough from the other guests for a moment alone, but exposed enough to have to watch themselves still. Andy accepts the shot of tequila with a nod, knowing this is her way of showing gratitude. He doesn’t question it, but instead holds his glass up. “Cheers,” Andy says simply, the knowing look shared between them saying more than words could. He throws back the shot without hesitation, before sliding the glass back to her to refill. “We deserve a few drinks after all’a this.” For anyone potentially listening, he sounds like a brother exhausted from having to bury his family. In reality, he’s more interested in moving on and enjoying a world where Jason is buried six feet deep. “‘Least this is all almost over.” He shrugs, leaning against the counter top.

[paiintedinflames]

brutcllysoft | lomk verse | rowan & andy​

Rowan chalks the obvious shock on Andy’s face up to the fact that he must be shocked that she knows about his extra curricular activities. She leans back in her kitchen chair and lets him process what she had said, her heart pounding so loudly she can hardly hear herself think and so quickly she feels like she might pass out. In all honesty, she hadn’t known how this conversation was going to play out — this just isn’t something that Rowan ever thought they would have to talk about. She’d thought that they were it for each other, even in their worst moments — and this certainly had been one of their worst. Maybe it had been naive of her to assume that Andy’s heart was the same as hers; that no matter what life threw at them he was always going to have eyes for only her. Or maybe she had just been stupid to think that she could spend all this time building walls around herself, refusing to let him in because she doesn’t know how to rely on him anymore and he wouldn’t go seeking that warmth she used to offer somewhere else. 

In the few seconds that Andy takes to gather his thoughts, Rowan feels like she sees their entire relationship play out in front of her. From the moment they’d met back in her freshman year, to finding out they were expecting Ryder when they were far too young for him. All of the Christmases and birthday parties, the late nights that they spent curled up on the secondhand couch they somehow fit into their little apartment, how excited they had been to tell Ryder he was going to be a big brother. The first time Andy had told her that he loved her. Of course, she doesn’t look at it with rose coloured glasses — she sees the hard times just as clearly as the good ones. Sleepless nights while she tried to study and Andy tried to work extra jobs with the club while Ryder screamed bloody murder because his teeth were coming in, having to stitch up slashes and bullet grazes while Andy sat on the ledge of the bathtub, the way they had practically crumbled into each other when Maddie’s sickness had been diagnosed. The last time that Andy told her he loved her. And now she can’t help but wonder if this is what it all comes down to — if this is where all of that finally comes to a heartbreaking end. 

She waits, trying to figure out if he is searching for a lie to get himself out of the situation or if he’s going to have the decency to be honest with her — but then he just looks sad. Andy practically deflates in front of her, a deeply hurt expression crossing his features and for a moment Rowan hates herself for being the one to put it there. But she feels it too. Rowan thought that she would go into this all fired up, guns blazing and looking to pick a fight and maybe that will come later on — but right now she’s just sad. She’s tired and she’s sad and she longs for the days that she could look at Andy from across the room and know exactly what he was thinking. The days when she could reach out for him without wondering if she was initiating something he didn’t want. The days where she felt like they were in all of this together, working as a team rather than just two people who are stuck together because they have children together. 

His question makes her eyes fall closed. Years ago she would have laughed in someone’s face if they told her Andy was cheating on her — months ago, even. But now…. Well now it doesn’t feel so impossible. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice thick as she opens her eyes again, looking up at him with a vulnerability that makes her skin feel too tight. “Maybe — yes.” The word comes out like shards of glass but it is the truth. At this point Rowan doesn’t know what else to think. “You’re gone all the time, Andy. We barely see each other and when we do all we talk about is the kids. You don’t come home anymore — you don’t touch me.” Which is maybe one of the weirdest parts of all of this. It used to feel like they were always reaching out for each other, his hand on the small of her back or hers resting against his thigh — Rhea used to tease them for it, asking them if they were glued to each other. Now it feels like the idea of even getting close to her repulses him. “And Tyson saw you — he saw you with some girl and he told me and I’ve been going crazy ever since.” 

Rowan knows she’s all over the place right now. She feels like her head is spinning, everything slipping out of her control and she has so much that she wants to say that she may never get a chance to say again that she barely knows where to start. “I’m not saying I’m innocent in this because I know —” she cuts off for a moment, taking a breath to try and keep herself composed. “I haven’t been fair to you.” It’s about as far into it as she can go right now, the idea of delving into how afraid she is of losing him again feels humiliating considering she’s literally in the middle of losing him. “But I’ve never…” The idea of being with anyone other than Andy has never even so much as crossed her mind. “If there’s someone else I deserve to know the truth.” Her gaze drops for a moment, jaw clenching painfully tight before she looks up at him again. “So tell me the truth — are you sleeping with someone else? Or are you… is it more than that?” God, the idea of Andy sleeping with someone else is bad enough, but the idea that he might have something more than that? That there is some other woman out there who gets the sleepy smiles that she used to get, that gets the just because flowers and the phone calls in the middle of the day just because he wanted to hear about her day, that gets to be the safe place for him in all of the chaos around them. That is enough to damn near kill her. 

.

Andy is certain this is the closest he’s had to an out of body experience — He's dumbstruck for a moment, his brain needs a moment to catch up to what’s happening in front of him. There was no question that they are struggling. He’d spent years hearing horror stories about the ways couples changed and fell apart after one of them got out of prison. Hell, he’d seen it first hand with plenty of club members — The distance, the disconnect, the comfort found in the arms of someone else. Andy had spent so much time in prison preaching about how he and Rowan were different, that they could get through anything, just for them to begin to unravel at the seams. (He still believes that can make it past any hardship — He’s just stuck trying to get from A to B.) But as this scene unfolds before him, it's surreal. Reaching a boiling point was a long time coming, but her accusation feels like a knife to the chest. He’s certain the look in Rowan’s eye is going to haunt him. 

It’s jarring to be so out of sync. A majority of his life has been spent with Rowan by his side, her hand in his — No matter how many fights and low points they have, she’s still the only person he wants to come home to. It’s been that way since he was a teenager, and it’ll be that way until the day he dies. There life together has been far from simple, but there’s no one he’d rather live it with. They’ve always balanced each other well, knew one another like the back of their hand— Andy wants nothing more than to find that again, to relearn one another and keep moving forward. He always believed they had some grand secret figured out, all boiling down to one thing: They never gave up on each other. They were in this together, determined to help keep the other from drowning. 

There’s an inexplicable pain in his chest at the realization that she may be giving up on him now. 

It’s not like he hasn’t given her plenty of reasons to feel this way — He’s been distant, even if it was in the name of trying to give her space. The club was a perfect reason and excuse to do so. With Jason gone, Andy had moved up in the ranks and taken on a larger role within the club — He was proud of it, but it came with a new level of pressure from his father, which only made his situation even worse. Each late night spent in the clubhouse was followed by the thinly veiled excuse that he was working on ‘club business’, though that was only the case about half the time. Andy never took up any offers from Sirens, despite their offers to help him relax. Instead, his nights were spent alone or dreading going home -- Leaving himself wondering if Rowan was truly better off without him. Maybe the voice in the back of his head was always right. 

His eyes never leave her, the weight against his chest making it hard to breathe. She’s burned out, he can spot it from a mile away. It kills him to see her like this, but it’s made worse by the fact that she won’t let him in. Rowan has had to spend years keeping herself afloat, with him sitting on the other side of the glass wishing he could do more. To say he’s proud of her is an understatement — He’s seen many people in her position cave in on themselves and abandon their kids. She was given an impossible task, and never faltered. Rowan continues to prove each day that she’s the strongest person he knows. Andy just wishes she’d let him shoulder her burden so she can rest, that Rowan doesn’t have to keep every plate spinning on her own. He knows it’s something they’ll have to work on for a lot longer than they’d like (she is also the most stubborn person he’s ever met, too), but even in the time he’s been home, barely anything has changed for the better. He’s still a stranger in his own home, consistently making missteps on what should be a simple thing. 

I don’t know. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she speaks, but her answer doesn’t make it any better. Maybe. Yes. They’ve had their fair share of fights -- While he and Rowan were always in it for the long haul, it didn’t mean they never disagreed or had trouble finding common ground. The biggest difference between now and then was that any spat they found themselves in was squashed just as quickly. They talked things out, got to the root of the problem. Typically it came back to the club or his father -- Never a question of the other’s commitment. Until now, at least. It reminds him of a memory, one that feels like a lifetime ago -- Of being nearly 30 and on a run, spending his night at a bar while a few other club members tease him for being too ‘whipped’ to make a move on the girl across the bar. Doesn’t count when you’re on a run, they told him. The notion made him laugh, then -- The idea of being with anyone who wasn’t Rowan just didn’t make sense to him. Now, nearly a decade later, she’s genuinely accusing him of cheating. 

Andy’s never done well with talking about his feelings, but this is a new beast entirely. There’s a short list of people he allows himself to be truly vulnerable with, and honestly? It starts and ends with his wife. Her words hang in the air for a moment, before he responds. "You can’t seem to stand to be around me,” he states plainly, not trying to accuse her of anything but explain where his mind is at. “I’ve been tryin’ to give you some space, ‘cause whenever I try to step in or help it only makes things worse.” The hurt in his tone is evident, mirroring the same look of exhaustion she has. “I --” He hesitates for a half second, knowing exactly what she means. It’s not  necessarily about sex -- Though their sex life isn’t exactly going well either -- but the way he always kept an arm around her waist, or his hand in hers. One of their love languages has always been physical touch; For him, reaching out to her left him feeling grounded and secure --Now he’s terrified if he tries to hold her close, she’ll recoil. “I didn’t think you wanted me to.” His voice is uncharacteristically quiet, having never actually admitted those words out loud before. 

The mention of Tyson makes his jaw clench. God, fuck that guy. He’d been a conniving little son of a bitch from the moment Andy met him, and clearly -- The other man was still happy to try and cause a rift between him and Rowan. This was the first time Tyson had been successful, and it left Andy wanting to wring the mans neck. His hatred of the man passes as quickly as it arrived, replaced by confusion -- “What?” He answers, genuinely unsure of what instance her coworker had been referring to, though he knows any and every time a woman’s tried to make a move -- He’s shot them down. The obvious is at the tip of his tongue -- Why didn’t you just ask me? But he knows why. It’s the entire reason they’re having this conversation. “I don’t even know what he’s talkin’ about.”  He doesn’t push the topic further, just listening as she continues on and he tries to catch his breath.

If there’s someone else I deserve to know the truth. It feels like his nerves are on fire, the tightness in his chest accompanied by knots in his stomach. “Rowan --” He starts, stopping himself as she questions him further. He blinks, hoping it’ll keep the emotion threatening to spill over at bay. Now isn’t the time to fall apart, even though his marriage clearly is. Andy couldn’t name what comes over him in that moment, but he takes a risk and moves closer to her. Fuck it. She might slap him and push him away, but the least he can do is try. It’s a risk he’s willing to take. He finds himself squatting in front of her, so that he’s at eye level with her. “No,” he answers with a shake of his head, before repeating himself. “No, I’m not sleepin’ with someone else.” A beat passes as he looks at her, eyes scanning her features as he tries to figure out what she’s thinking. Pushing things further (and silently praying it doesn’t backfire on him), his hands reach out to cup her cheeks, so that she’s looking at him. “Hey --” It feels strange to think that something like this could ever feel like testing a boundary -- It had been one of his go-to moves prior to all of this, always happy to tilt her head up and meet her half way in a kiss each time. He doesn’t lean in further, but speaks softly. “I love you, baby.” His voice is steady, despite how shaky he feels. “I know I haven’t said it a lot lately n’ I know sayin’ that doesn’t fix everything, but I wanna make sure you know.” 

It’s taken years of practice to allow himself to be vulnerable with her, to truly let his guard down and speak his mind. It takes every ounce of courage in him to do just that -- Rather than just let himself retreat in like he’s done so often over the last few months. “There’s no one else. There’s never gonna be anyone else.” He continues, his thumb moving absentmindedly against her cheek -- Something so second hand he barely registers he’s doing it. Taking a deep breath, he continues: “I know things have been -- “ Some sort of chuckle finds him in that moment, the word difficult feeling like an understatement. “It’s been a real shit show.” He admits, a sigh passes his lips and the short lived humor goes with it. “But I don’t wanna give up on us.” 

[paiintedinflames]

ANDY THANE DISCOGRAPHY: saint: the b sides. 

the b sides is a surprise addition, released along side Andy Thane’s latest album saint, serving as what he describes as “the other side of the same coin”. Where it’s predecessor sports Thane’s typical guitar heavy and fast pace music, the b sides shows a different side of the rocker -- Slowed down and heart felt, giving a personal and intimate look into his thoughts and desires. While Thane hasn’t confirmed who each song refers to, all signs point to on and off again girlfriend, Rowan Fisher. The album is made up of seven songs and no singles, though includes an acoustic version of Thane’s first hit single, Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked.

T R A C K L I S T

         1. CHERRY don't you call him what you used to call me, don't you call him baby

        2. FIRELIGHT tell my friends i’m gone, it's true i've past on now to the eyes of a dark, lost blue

        3. RIGHT BEFORE MY EYES everything i thought i knew fell to the side time went on & on i couldn't see past my own eyes

        4. SWEET CREATURE sweet creature, sweet creature, wherever i go, you bring me home sweet creature, sweet creature, when i run out of road, you bring me home

        5. FALLING what am i now? what am i now? what if i’m someone i don't want around?

        6. APARTMENT i feel this cold inside me, it howls away all through the market it calls your name

        7. AIN’T NO REST FOR THE WICKED (acoustic) i know i can't slow down, i can't hold back, though you know i wish i could oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked until we close our eyes for good

[devilwomcn]

CLOSED / @becamedcath​ LOCATION: Reina’s home, Thanksgiving 2021

By the grace of God, this holiday is somehow shaping up to be one of the more normal holidays Reina’s ever experienced — and that’s saying quite a bit. It isn’t like she’s ever had a bad Thanksgiving, at least not since Rowan entered her life, but it’s always just been the two of them. They’d always get some form out takeout most years unless Rowan had to travel, she’d allow eating on the couch for once as a special occasion and they’d watch something stupid on TV before eventually heading off to sleep, and that’d be the end of it. It was tradition, and it was always nice, but it never truly felt like they were celebrating a holiday rather than just an overly special Thursday.

Now, however, things have drastically changed. They’ve gone from just the two of them to four, which in Reina’s mind is practically a full house, and Andrew’s taken over her kitchen with Rick by his side as she and Rowan sit on the couch speculating whether or not Reina’s oven actually works after years of never being used. They’re about to eat a real Thanksgiving meal at her dining room table, sitting together as a family, and if someone had told Reina a year ago that this would be the case, she’d laugh in their face. A year ago she hadn’t even known Rowan and Andy were seeing each other again, he’d still been the scumbag that broke her daughter’s heart into a million pieces, and she would’ve rather slit the kid’s throat than let him step foot into her home.

But oddly enough, Andrew’s presence no longer sets off Reina’s barely contained homicidal tendencies. She actually almost likes seeing him here now, clearly sober and healthy and happy to be cooking a giant Thanksgiving dinner for them. How far they’ve come, she thinks to herself, making her way over to the kitchen after Rick comes to steal Ro’s attention from her. “You know, I don’t usually allow myself to eat carbs,” she comments, eyeing the mashed potatoes Andy’s keeping warm on her stove top with a critical eye before settling into a barstool across the island, “so those better be fucking phenomenal, or you’re never welcome back here again.” She means back to her gourmet kitchen that had seemingly offended him when he learned it never got used, but if he takes it as the house in general — well, Reina isn’t going to ease up on putting the fear of God in him even if they are getting along.

[paiintedinflames]

A year and a half ago, the idea of cooking Thanksgiving dinner in Reina Savant’s kitchen would be laughable, something that would never even come to mind for Andy because it sounded so strange and improbable -- And yet, here he is now, standing her kitchen, having spent his day with Rick, cooking a meal for their makeshift family. He hadn’t expected to feel so in his element -- Cooking became a new passion of his after rehab, something that seemed to come naturally for him. Wearing a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron (A birthday present from Rowan, of course) while preparing a Thanksgiving dinner was an ideal way to spend the holiday -- He took the reigns when it came to cooking, with a mixture of his Ma’s recipe book, a few things Chris taught him, and his own creations. 

It’s odd to think how much has changed in such a short amount of time -- But he has to admit he’s enjoying it. He didn’t have many expectations when it came to Reina when he and Rowan first got back together. The older woman rightfully hated him, given his history of breaking her daughter’s heart over and over and over again. She’s someone Andy has always admired -- Aside from enjoying her music, Reina is a force to be reckoned with, someone who doesn’t let people get away with bullshit, especially when it comes to the people she loves. He finds himself wishing he’d grown up with someone like her in his corner, and he’s grateful Rowan did.

Regardless of his past and whether or not Reina would ever like him (or at the very least, not hate him), she’s Rowan’s family and he was more than willing to put the work in. In the last year, they’ve managed that, building a friendship with snide remarks and snarky banter, the conversation being held between them now proving to a perfect example. “S’big talk for someone who’s been sittin’ around all day.” He gives her a look, laughing lightly as he stirs the potatos. He’s come to enjoy spending time with Reina -- It was a shock to realize that they had more in common than he realized, the two able to find common ground once it became clear to the woman in question how serious he is when it came to Rowan, and his relationship with her. Even though she’s teasing, Andy’s not naive enough to believe Reina’s above banishing him from her home over a meal gone wrong. “I got the recipe from my Ma,” he starts again, knowing Reina had built a friendship with his mother, too. “I’ll make sure to let her know how big of a sacrifice you’re makin’ today.” He can’t help but laugh at his own joke, eyes rolling. “You’re real fuckin’ brave.” 

[paiintedinflames]

NASH | brutcllysoft​

Rowan has never been good at taking things slowly — ever, with anyone. From the moment she was old enough to start being romantically interested in people she felt like she’d been jumping from one relationship to another, always falling fast and hard only to end up shattered on the ground more often than not, having to put her own heart back together again. She’ll swear off of dating for a while, pour her heart into a couple new songs and then before she knows it someone is smiling at her and looking at her like they might want a future and she starts the cycle all over again. Of course, Andy hadn’t been any different despite the circumstances in which they had met. It had all been a formal agreement in the beginning, but it had only taken a few months for them to become friends and as soon as they were friends — well, she had wanted more. She always wants more, doesn’t she? Even after he had made it clear time and time again that he couldn’t give it to her, she had still picked up every time he called, all too hopeful that if she loved him hard enough one day he might be able to love her back just the same. Of course, that wasn’t what had happened. Instead of ending with the big white wedding and two point five kids she had been secretly hoping for, she’d ended up in France, crying so hard she couldn’t breathe and impulsively chopping her hair off to try and feel in control of literally any aspect of herself.

Looking back, it’s crazy how much things can change in less than a year. If she thinks about it too much it makes her anxious. Secretly a part of her had always hoped that she and Andy might eventually find their way back to one another but she hadn’t in a million years thought it would be this soon. She can vividly remember having a dream back in the spring where they were both older and more mature, she’d probably been on her second divorce considering her horrible luck, they’d met up again at some industry event and finally gotten it right. Part of her had hoped it had been a sign of what was to come (though another part of her, the bigger part, had been furious with her subconscious for having the audacity to put those thoughts into her head so clearly and even more furious at Andy for still having such a hold on her) but she hadn’t ever expected them to be here this soon. Part of her wonders if it’s too soon. Are they ready to really do this right for once? Or is she just setting herself up for another heartbreak? It keeps her up at night sometimes and so for the first time ever, she’s been forcing herself to take things slowly  — or as slowly as she possibly can. And as hard as that is, it’s been for the best. The last few months their relationship has felt more secure than it ever has, even if they’re keeping it to themselves for now. 

The dinner Andy made had been great, as it always is, and Rowan can’t help but be a little jealous. Her own skills in the kitchen are strictly limited to moving something from a take out container to a plate, the few times she tried to venture into actually cooking having ended in a kitchen full of smoke and ordering pizza. Andy seemed to have taken to it immediately though, like he seems to do with everything, and she wonders if he realizes how talented he is even outside of a music studio. They’d washed the dishes together afterwards before eventually finding themselves on the couch and halfway through the second movie they’d put on — though she couldn’t tell you what the first one had been about, they’d spent most of it talking — Rowan finds herself dozing off on his shoulder every few moments before jumping awake, blinking hard in an effort to come off the edge of sleep because she isn’t quite ready for this night to end just yet. After dozing off for the third time, she’d sat up rather than practically laying on him, rubbing her eyes and yawning embarrassingly loud before spouting off into some rambling story about her band lead from her previous tour to keep her mind occupied. 

Her mouth shuts abruptly at Andy’s words though, mind seemingly going blank at the thought of staying at Andy’s apartment tonight. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d fallen asleep together and while their relationship is more solid than it has ever been, Rowan can’t help but be met with a montage of memories behind her eyes all of them ending with her waking up alone. Her chest clenches painfully at it, though the feeling of Andy’s thumb stroking against her cheek brings her back to the present, to what’s actually happening in front of her and a feeling of guilt comes with it. They’re supposed to be moving forward, right? She’s not supposed to be holding any of that against him? “Are you sure?” Her head tilts, leaning into the hand on her cheek instinctively. Her own hands are in her lap, fingers anxious twisting and untwisting as she searches his eyes for any sign of regretting what he had blurted out. “You can take it back if you want, I won’t hold it against you, promise.” She laughs like it’s a joke but she does mean it, if he’d said it in the heat of the moment and regretted it that would be okay. She’d rather he be honest about it than have them move into the next step of their relationship too quickly and undo all of the progress they’ve made. “I didn’t bring any of my things,” she says quietly, “But um… Yeah. If you want me to, I’ll stay. I want to.” 

--

It’s difficult not to over think every single thing he does when it comes to Rowan. This is their chance to get things right, and if anyone is going to fuck things up — They both know it’ll be him. It leaves him feeling like he’s holding his breath, becoming hyper aware of everything he does before overthinking it. Thankfully, his words don’t have her leaping off the couch and running for the door — But Andy still holds his breath, unsure of what will happen next. The three words have clearly woken her out of her half awake state, with Andy fighting the urge to keep rambling about how he's sorry and there’s no pressure. It’s not like they’ve never shared a bed or stayed the night with one another (though he always ran before sunrise), but everything feels so new and the same all at once, and he wants to do this on Rowan’s terms. 

A brow arches as Rowan speaks, though he remains exactly where he is, his thumb brushing against her skin. “I — I’m sure. I don’t want to take it back.” His words are soft, forcing himself to not retreat because of his own discomforts — He wants her here, wants to wake up next to her tomorrow and every tomorrow after that. He can’t help the smile that comes with the mention of how she doesn’t have any of her things, but she wants to stay. “I want you to, Ro. I really want you to.” He admits to her, his hand moving from her cheek and to push through her hair. A lopsided grin forms as he lets go of her but moves to take her hand as he stands. “I have something to show you.” His clear excitement doesn’t have him waiting for her response before he’s guiding her up the stairs and to his room. She wants to be there with him — That’s enough to pull him out of the anxieties he was close to drowning in minutes before.“I uh —“ Now that he’s actually about to show her the way he’d set up for her to stay, heat crawls up his cheeks, his free hand pushing his hair out of his face. 

Once they’re in his room, he reluctantly lets go of her hand to cross the room to his dresser. “I cleared this out for you,” he pulls an empty drawer out, before his hand dips in and pulls a pair of sleep shorts and one of his old shirts with it. “And I grabbed you something to sleep in, and uh — There’s a sweatshirt, but I put a couple’a my old shirts in there too, in case you uh — You know, wanted to sleep in one of those.” Since when does he get nervous about this kind of stuff? He knows the answer — It’s never mattered like this before. “I got you a toothbrush and your own toothpaste, in the bathroom.” He nods to the cracked open bathroom door, his smile still present. “I got some body wash n’ shampoo from that brand you were tellin’ me about a couple weeks ago, too.” He finishes, his old tour shirt still in his hands. “I’m not uh — Really good with the whole, you know, talkin’ thing, but I just — I wanted to make sure you knew you have a place here. You always do. I want you here.” 

[paiintedinflames]

ANDY THANE DISCOGRAPHY: saint.

A mere three months after a 90 day stint in rehab, Andy Thane makes his return to the public eye in the form of the highly anticipated saint. Thane’s third album is nothing short of an old fashioned comeback -- Written entirely while in rehab, and recorded and produced right after he left. saint. is an unflinching look at the downfalls of the last five years, showcasing an unseen vulnerability in regard to both addiction and losing the love of his life. There’s no direct confirmation that many of the songs on the album are about Rowan Fisher, but the song that closes the album, Rowan Tree (Goodbye), makes the subject clear. The surprise release of the song Social Cues after months of social media radio silence marks the lead single of the album, followed closely by Cough Syrup, Only Angel, and Trouble. saint. is met with high regard, debuting at number one, going triple-platinum in the year since it’s release. The album earns Thane Artist of the Year at the 2020 Grammys, along with countless other awards at the VMAs, AMAs, and Billboard Music Awards that year. 

T R A C K L I S T

          1. SHINE A LITTLE LIGHT  go to places that you used to go, but they don't feel the same see the faces that you used to know, but they forget your name

          2. TOKYO SMOKE i played the fool 'til I started to choke

          3. UNDER THE GUN leaving now, all i have is all i own i'm hoping it's all i need

          4. SOCIAL CUES hide me in the back room, tell me when it's over don't know if i can play this bar much longer

          5. ONLY ANGEL i’m just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth and there's nothing i can do about it

          6. SKIN & BONE i don't wanna be there when it all goes down but if i gotta be there don't let me hit the ground

          7. SHAKE ME DOWN  even on a cloudy day, i'll keep my eyes fixed on the sun

          8. SIT AROUND & MISS YOU i walk outside, i ghost out in the park always sure we'd leave our mark

          9. TROUBLE got so much to lose, got so much to prove god, don't let me lose my mind

          10. CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS soft speak with a mean streak, nearly brought me to my knees

          11. COUGH SYRUP if i could find a way to see this straight i'd run away to some fortune that i should have found by now

          12. LITTLE BLACK SUBMARINES (ft. chris mcdonald)  i should've seen it glow, but everybody knows that a broken heart is blind

          13. ROWAN TREE (GOODBYE) how'd i become the thorn in your side all your laughter turned into a cry, it's alright, goodbye

[brutcllysoft]

but if i was standing there in your apartment i’d take that bomb inside your head and disarm it. i’d say i love you even at your darkest and please don’t go. 

[paiintedinflames]

NASH | @brutcllysoft​ 

when + where andy’s home, late september 2020

Andy’s spent the last three days agonizing over this dinner. He’d blurted out that he wanted to cook for her during a conversation about food they loved as kids, and it seemed to snow ball from there -- Now he was going to cook her home made Jambalaya, using the same recipe his Ma did when he was a kid. Since his father’s death, he’d been able to reconnect with Rhea, which had lead to her teaching him a few cooking tricks, along with her passing along a few of her favorite recipes. Andy had always been pretty good in the kitchen -- The cooks at the old diner he worked at with Sid would teach him a few tricks, and Chris was the type who preferred a home cooked meal to greasy take out. Now that he was sober and no longer spent his time wasted and wandering through his days, Andy had invested far more time into the Food Network than he realized, often spending his time trying to recreate different dishes from different shows. It had become cathartic for him, and now that he and Rowan were figuring things out -- Cooking for her was something was something that turned him into a mixture of nerves and excitement. 

They’d been back together for a while now, though they were taking it slow -- The way they should have before, if their lives weren’t made up of recording studios, contracts, and shooing away the paparazzi. He hadn’t done much dating in his lifetime, really. Thinking back on it, he can count on his hand the times he’d actually dated a girl before getting into a relationship. It was mostly casually hook ups and late night texts, then Bethany and every sour note she hit -- Then Rowan, who began with a written contract and was spent with years of him getting in his own way. It’s exciting, the rush of something new yet familiar, relearning one another in such a different way -- They kept things under wraps, the only person outside of him and Rowan that knew about their relationship was his therapist, who had signed enough NDAs that their secret was safe. With the secrecy of their relationship, they were odd free to do what they wanted -- There was no watchful eye of agents and managers, no paparazzi to navigate or pressure to be on the cover of some tabloid or dodge a headline entirely. All that was left was Andy and Rowan, and a fresh start he never thought he’d get. 

Andy had gone over the plan for the evening several times, even talked it through with said therapist as well. It was far too easy to get lost in his own thoughts, drown in doubts and second guesses -- His relationship with Rowan had never been better, but it was still something that felt new and fragile, and history shows he hadn’t been the most gentle. This was his second act, the chance to finally be with the person he loves and do things right -- Rather than fuck it up at every turn, like he’d done before. Even if it feels like a simple thing -- Dinner at his place, maybe a movie after or the two just spending the evening talking (the latter was something he found he loved more than anything, getting the chance to hear every and any thought or opinion that came to Rowan’s mind), and hopefully, it would end in her staying the night. It wasn’t some ploy to get her to sleep with him, but a show of how serious he was about them -- Andy had cleared a draw in his dresser, gotten her her own toothbrush (yellow, of course), picked up the body was he knew she liked. He wanted her to feel at home, to know that she had a space with him here, that he is all in. He loves her and wants her to be imbedded in every piece of his life.

The night had gone smoothly enough, the two spending their time laughing and eating, his nerves forgotten momentarily as they settled back into the new routine they began not too long ago. She helped him cook and he told her about how his Ma would make Jambalaya for Sunday dinner, they laughed and joked and talked until their plates were clean and it became obvious that they were looking for reasons to linger. They hadn’t spoken much about staying at one another’s places, other than casual comments in passing -- He didn’t want to pressure her into anything, to take their relationship at a pace she wanted. Andy was more than happy to take his time, for them to really find their footing in it all before taking more steps. It’s when it becomes obvious that they have to say something when they’ve cleaned up dinner and devoured the cake he’d gotten for dessert -- When they’ve retreated to his couch together, chatting away until they can’t fight yawning between sentences anymore. The idea of keeping this going, of pillow talk while curled up together in his bed is something that has chest tightening. It’s a night and day difference from who he used to be -- When they’d meet up in hotels and he’d end up leaving in the middle of night, too afraid of his own feelings to let himself stay. Now, all he wanted to do was wake up next to Rowan each morning, with her mussed hair and small snores filling the room -- It’s enough that he finds himself blurting out the words in the middle of her telling him some story from her last tour. “Stay the night.” The words come out as his hand is pushing a piece of hair out of her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. Three words, however, pull him back to reality, nerves returning like punch to the chest. “If you want to -- It’s -- I don’t mind if you don’t, I just -- If you want to, I’d.. really like it.” He stumbles over his words, hating himself for potentially ruining a perfectly good moment. 

[paiintedinflames]

NASH | @brutcllysoft | CONTINUED FROM HERE 

Rowan doesn’t acknowledge when he tells her she doesn’t have to apologize. She knows that she doesn’t -- her thoughts and feelings are justified after years of the games they’ve played with each other, but she still can’t help but feel bad that she’d chosen tonight of all nights to bring it all to the surface. It’s supposed to be a celebration for him and she hadn’t gone there with plans of starting something -- though she can’t deny a selfish, vindictive part of her had brought Tyson for no reason other than to try and prove she had moved on -- but it had all been so overwhelming she hadn’t been able to stop herself. The surprise in Andy’s voice has her stopping in her tracks, brows furrowing at his question. You love me? Her head tilts with confusion because she has no idea how he couldn’t have known. It only occurs to her then that she’s never actually told him before. “I -- Yeah. Of course I do. I thought you knew.” It had seemed so obvious to her all of those years, why else would she have kept coming back time after time? Why else would she have tried so hard? When Andy tells her he loves her too she doesn’t quite know how to react to it. She feels like she’s spent so many years wanting to hear him say these things to her, and now that he finally is… she can’t help but be on guard about it all. So she simply nods, her lips pursing together momentarily. “I thought you hated me.” The admission comes out quieter than she would like it to, having envisioned this conversation as something far more volatile in her head a million times but they seem to have moved past that phase and into something softer, something more vulnerable. “That was the only way I could make any of the last few years make sense. That I was just… Convenient.” Her stomach twists uncomfortably as she speaks, knowing that it may not be what Andy wants to hear but it’s what she needs to say.

-- 

I thought you knew. There’s a part of him that’s always known — Before he would talk himself out of it and let his own doubts consume him, before a steady rotation of Why would she love someone like me? and I don’t deserve it swirl through his thoughts. There’s a small silence that comes with her words, where he’s catapulted back to a hotel room in Chicago, a voice that sounds a hell of a whole lot like his whispering I love you. Just the two of them, holding onto each other in a dark hotel room, the realization that he’s loved her all along. The way he disappeared before she woke the next morning. The memory is one that plays on a loop for him, both a torment and inspiration — One that mostly leaves him with immeasurable guilt over how much of a coward he is. Was? Don’t be a coward now. “I think I did. I just — I don’t know. I convinced myself you could never love someone like me.” Andy forces himself to admit, but anything he could say after dies on his tongue as soon as Rowan speaks. I thought you hated me. Her words hit him like a freight train, knocking the air from his chest. It’s almost laughable to Andy — The idea of hating Rowan is something that’s never been on the table, something he would never feel regardless of whoever she moved on with or what scathing songs she released. Because the truth is that she should hate him — It doesn’t matter if he’s gotten clean or is trying to face his problems head on, he still treated her as something expendable, still broke her heart again and again just to send a letter while in rehab with an apology. He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat as she continues, nodding as she speaks. Of course she felt like he hated her, like she was nothing more than a warm body for him. There’s a small pause that comes after, where he’s unable to string anything together that doesn’t make him feel like his lungs are going to cave in. You have to have this conversation. This is the whole point of closure, he reminds himself. “I treated you like a convenience.” He agrees, because it’s the plain and simple truth. “I -- You’re everything I could ever want and I constantly left you behind.” Andy continues, not sure how much good it will do but he knows he has to own up to his past. “I know I can’t change that, but I -- I just -- You deserve better than what I gave you. I’m sorry.” He apologizes again, forcing himself to look her in the eye as he speaks. 

[brutcllysoft]

closed for: @becamedcath​

setting: thane house, late at night

It is times like this that Rowan is grateful that their dreams of having a house full of kids never had a chance to come true. With Ryder off in his own apartment across town and Maddie having a sleepover with Iris at their grandmother’s house, Rowan is free to go insane in peace. Anyone with eyes can see that Andy’s homecoming hadn’t been what they had been expecting. Everything is so different now than when he got arrested and though they’ve tried to keep things the same – it’s impossible to ignore that a lot has changed. That they’ve changed. Rowan knows that she still loves him, that she is always going to love him — but sometimes she wonders if that is going to be enough or if he can say the same about her. Especially as of late when he seems to spend more and more nights at the club house, sneaking back into the house long after she and Maddie have shut out the lights. He’ll crawl into bed while she pretends to sleep, pretends to ignore the way it feels like he purposely avoids touching her, like he tries to stay as close to the edge as possible. It’s not like she can really blame him — Rowan hasn’t been the best thing to come home to and she knows that. She’s been hard on him in a way that she just can’t help, snapping when she knows that he doesn’t deserve it and beating herself up after the fact, telling herself that it won’t happen again and then… it does. It’s clear that there is a lot they need to talk about to try and get back to a good place, but neither of them no where to start. Or maybe they just don’t want to.

Rowan has had her suspicions that there is someone else for a while now. She won’t admit it out loud, knowing that Reina would call her insane and too embarrassed to even think about confiding in anyone else. Every night she tells herself that she is being crazy and yet… she can’t stop. The idea has burrowed so deep into her brain, eating away at her day and night despite how irrational she tells herself that it is. It doesn’t take long for her to become fixated on the idea, to convince herself that the only possible explanation for why they can’t get it right anymore is that Andy just doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t need to anymore — not when he’s found someone else. Someone probably younger than she is, more put together, someone who doesn’t snap at him for trying to be a father, someone who he doesn’t dread having to spend time with like he so clearly does her. The thought makes her heart feel like a stone, solid and heavy and sinking so deep into her chest that most of the time she feels like she can’t breathe. She hadn’t known what to do with any of these feelings, though, trying to shove them down as far as she could so that she didn’t have to deal with them. She hadn’t planned on bringing it up any time soon, trying to get her bearings and stop being such a fucking psychopath but then tonight everything had shifted. After dropping the girl’s off, she had circled back to Reina’s house to drop something off only to spot her and Rick in the backyard, hands all over each other.

And while Rowan sure as hell doesn’t feel bad for Jason, all of that as her own insecurities and paranoias crashing to the surface. Years ago she had thought Jason was simply cut from the same cloth as his father where as Rick and Andy were like their mother – good, kind, faithful. But maybe no one in this family is capable of that. Maybe her husband is sleeping with Reina too. The thought is fleeting and as soon as she thinks it, she can’t help but cringe and be swallowed up with an overwhelming feeling of guilt. It’s cruel to compare the two and even in her jealousy and near-hysteria, Rowan knows that. Things with Rick and Reina have always been different and complicated – Rick wears his heart on his sleeve and Reina’s wandering eyes stopped being subtle years ago; Rowan had just never thought they would actually cross that line. And besides, she knows that Reina wouldn’t do that to her. If absolutely nothing else, she knows that her sister is the one person that she can count on not to betray her. The same can’t be said for any of the women who hang around the club house in scraps of material that can barely pass as clothing, practically frothing at the mouth for a chance to get their hands on any man in a cut, her husband very much included. With that thought in mind, all of her guilt is gone and her mind is going a mile a minute again, leaving her feeling slightly insane as she mentally goes over every night Andy hadn’t come home this week until the early hours of the morning when the sun was nearly due to come up. It’s impossible to stop herself once she gets to this point. Somewhere inside of her a voice is trying to reason with her, to say that Andy wouldn’t do that to her but she can’t hear it over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears and she spends the next twenty minutes unable to stop herself from picturing her husband falling into bed with someone else.

The only reason she stops is because the sound of the door closing grabs her attention, her spine stiffening as Andy’s footsteps come closer and suddenly she feels like all of her nerve is gone. The fire that had been sparking inside of her dwindles just enough that she needs to take a long, big gulp of the wine glass in front of her to keep from just crying like some pathetic woman who can’t stand the thought of being without her husband — but maybe she is that woman. Because the idea of all of this being the beginning of the end has her overcome with an indescribable feeling, sadness not even beginning to scratch the surface. She swallows it down when Andy’s finally in front of her, desperately trying to keep the cool composure she has perfected over the years. 

“You’re home late,” she starts off as if that isn’t just the usual now, setting her glass down with a soft thud. Her throat is dry, jaw tightening as she glances at the clock on the wall behind Andy – it’s well after two AM. “You have fun tonight?” The question is laced with emotion and she isn’t entirely sure that she is ready for this conversation. “What’d you do? Or who, I guess.” Yeah, she definitely isn’t ready for this conversation. That wasn’t at all how Rowan had planned on going about this but maybe there is no delicate way of accusing your husband of over twenty years of fucking someone else. 

[paiintedinflames]

When he imagined what life after prison would be like, Andy had high hopes -- He knew he and Rowan would have to adjust, navigating this new change together. He’d heard all of the stories from other inmates, how different life can be when you get out. Andy knew it would be a transition -- Hell, even a struggle -- but he always believed he and Rowan would be the exception. That they would figure it out, they would push through all of the stress and change with their hands clasped together. He hadn’t anticipated that he’d be walking into a new life entirely, becoming an intruder within his own home. Weight presses against his chest now that he’s learned the truth of it -- Rowan’s made it clear he’s in the way, that he’s messing with the life she’s built in his absence. Andy doesn’t blame her for that, he can’t. He was the one who got tossed in a prison cell, this wasn’t the life Rowan signed up for -- She’s the love of his life, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s been playing single mom for years. The guilt constantly threatens to drown him, reminding him of the way she’s had to fight to keep afloat while he rotted away in the state pen. Andy did the best he could -- You can only raise a kid so much from the other side of a glass wall, relying on what he’s told after the fact rather than truly being by her side. He naively hoped it would be an easy transition when he got home, that he would fit right back into the routines she’s created and finally be able to be part of Rowan, Maddie and Ryder’s lives in the way he was meant to be.

Now, he knows just how fucking naive it was. He’s tried to jump in, to be as helpful as he can and try to make things as easy as possible -- It didn’t take long for it to become apparent that that wouldn’t work. He doesn’t know how to fit these puzzle pieces together, and Rowan is quick to remind him of it. He bites his tongue each time, taking note of how she wants things done so that he knows what to do next time. It’s that way for months, Andy walking on egg shells so that he doesn’t stress Rowan out, that he doesn’t become even more of an outsider in his home and to his wife. Patience becomes a common practice, knowing they’re doing the best they can with what they’ve got, but he can’t help but want to grab her by the shoulders and say Let me back in! They had once been so in sync, practically able to read the other’s mind. It was almost scary to him, how well Rowan knows him -- He’s sure the feeling was once mutual. He doesn’t give up, though, knowing that there will be an end to this, that they’ll find a way to heal. There has to be. 

They have good days, though. Andy tries to hold on to those as best he can -- When they find themselves laughing together, when they share moments that feel like their lives before. Sometimes it last a few hours, sometimes it’s a few days. Each time it ends with something going wrong, whether it’s Maddie’s vest being one cabinet to the left, or him not knowing Ryder’s address. It doesn’t matter what it is -- There’s always something there to remind them of his absence, and it always changes the look in Rowan’s eye to something tired and distant. Andy tries a new approach, trying to give her a bit more space while still remaining as involved as possible. He’s quick to jump in and take care of Maddie, but doesn’t worry about sleeping at the clubhouse some nights -- It’s flawed, and he finds himself staying later and later at the clubhouse or sleeping in his shitty dorm room more often as time goes on. It’s hard not to, when everything he does only brings an unbearable disappointment from Rowan. He tries to give her space, to ease the burden he’s caused her, though when he walks into their home late that night to find her at the kitchen table -- He sees that he’s once again misstep. 

He doesn’t want to give up on them, point blank. There’s no one else that he’d rather navigate this life with, rough patch or not. Rowan is his first and only love, and Andy can’t see himself ever being with someone else. The idea feels foreign, almost dirty -- He’s loved her for as long as he can remember, the idea of someone else taking her place is just plain wrong. It’s not like other women haven’t tried, especially once people started to pick up on the growing animosity between him and Rowan. Sirens start to linger, offering him a drink while their hands not-so-subtly wander; They try to flirt and try to wedge their way in -- But he doesn’t give an inch. It didn’t matter if Rowan snapped at him all day and he bit his tongue to avoid snapping back, she’s still the only one he wants to come home to. 

Typically, he busies himself with the club. When he spends his time at the clubhouse, he tries to distract himself with something that isn’t beer or playing pool -- Though a few hours in, he ends up with a drink in one hand and a pool cue in the other. From there he either crashes in his dorm room, or quietly sneaks into the house as not to wake Maddie. Tonight he was attempting the latter, but the light on in the kitchen and the sound of Rowan’s voice make it clear she’s waiting up for him. You’re home late. He’s not sure what to say to her, knowing that this is going to end up in an argument, or her reminding him of his shortcomings. “I lost track of time.” He answers lamely after a moment too long, not sure what to say. It’s not a lie -- He really did lose track of time once he started a game of pool with Jack, and the two got into it about what motorcycle has a better engine. Andy knows she doesn’t care what he was doing, but the fact that he’s once again, coming home in the middle of the night. He doesn’t answer her first question, a lump forming in his thought at the tone she uses, how loaded the question is. She’s upset with him, and the drink in front of her has only amped things up. The buzzed feeling he was enjoying minutes before is quickly gone, the look on her face sobering him up. 

Andy moves across the kitchen, pulling a glass out of the cabinet so that he can pour himself a glass of water. It’s more to just keep himself occupied and distract from her gaze, her clear disappointment. Once his cup is full, he turns to face her again, leaning against the counter as she continues to question him. Or who, I guess. Her words have him choking on his water from sheer surprise, that much evident in the look he gives her, the way his brows furrow. Once the initial shock of the question passes, hurt settles in easily, leaving him feeling hollow. Andy knows they’re not in a good place right now, but to have Rowan ask him point blank if he’s cheating on her leaves him with an inexplainable sense of sadness. All of his late nights at the clubhouse don’t paint the best picture, but he thought she knew him well enough to know he’d never stray.  “What?” It’s all he can get out at first, shock still making it difficult to form words, unable to think of anything past giving her a confused and exasperated No?! “You --” Andy starts again, his heart thumping against his chest. “You really think I’d cheat on you?” 

[paiintedinflames]

MCU | ROWAN | brutcllysoft​

I hate snow. Of course she knew that and the words ‘I know, I remember’ sit on the tip of her tongue. One time they had been in Greenland in the middle of the winter season and the temperature outside the cabin they were in had dropped to nearly forty below zero during the night. She’d woken up in the middle of the night and Andy had been so stiff she had been a little afraid he had actually frozen to death, the sound of his deep breathing the only give indication that he hadn’t. That had been a long night, she remembers, and while she certainly wouldn’t consider it one of their best nights – it was a night with Andy which meant it was still one of her best nights. “So you’re not planning your retirement in Canada, then,” she hums out, instead of saying all of the things she really wants to say. Over their years together they had come up with a system — a handful of words that meant something to them, that would always start the process of jogging his memory. She wonders what would happen if she said one of them now. It would be so easy and it feels like they’re all fighting their way up her throat now that he is standing in front of her, her body aching for the familiar feeling of him close to her. She swallows them all back down though; she can’t. For all she knows he wouldn’t even want to remember – maybe now that he’s on his own he just wants to forget and leave everything behind. The thought has her chest caving in just a little and selfishly she hates the idea of Andy never remembering who she is – but the rosy tinge to his cheeks and the actual life behind her eyes reminds her that he deserves some peace after everything. Even if that peace isn’t with her.

With that in mind, she chalks it up to stupid hopefulness when she thinks that she see’s something flicker on his expression. Any hint at recognition or familiarity had surely all been in her mind, imagined simply because she wants him to remember her — but he doesn’t. He can’t. She’ll have to learn to be okay with that. “You should let yourself indulge in the finer things every now and then,” she muses, arms crossing over her chest as she lifts her shoulders in a shrug. Who is she to talk, though? It isn’t as if she has made herself a comfortable home somewhere – instead she’s spent most of her nights sleeping curled up on a seat in a shitty helicopter or a questionably sanitary safehouse in whatever country she and Reina had found themselves in while they figured out a way to get her friend’s out of prison but that doesn’t stop her from saying so anyway. “Pillowtop mattress, silk sheets, jacuzzi tub — the creature comforts are nicer on this side of everything than they were before. Well not this side of things like here. But somewhere – out there. ” Her arms uncross long enough to gesture vaguely toward the window, the Irish country side not looking very promising. 

She’s surprised when he actually answers the question about his arm, having fully expected him to shut her down and end he conversation. “At least you’re right handed,” she comments. Though she can’t help but wonder how it has effected him tactically, sure that it would be a learning curve as far as his balance and fighting style goes – though she doubts he had seen any combat in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean. When he thanks her for getting him out of prison she feels something inside of her shift. Rowan knows exactly what it is like to be left behind, to be locked up somewhere and wondering if anyone is coming for you. She wouldn’t ever do that to anyone, especially not to him even if he doesn’t know it. It had been hard enough every time they had to go their separate ways, knowing what he was going back to and the torture he was going to endure before she would see him again. There hadn’t been anything she could do to stop it even though she wanted to. The idea of ripping her tracker out in the middle of a mission had crossed her mind so many times but the chemicals embedded into her had made that an impossibility. “Don’t mention it. Happy to help.” Even if she feels like too little, too late. Suddenly she feels a little like she is suffocating and she has to take a deep breath to keep herself in that control she so desperately always strives for. “I need a drink,” she says simply, pushing off the wall and rummaging through a cabinet until she finds a handle of vodka and four shot glasses. Perfect. “If you make me drink alone after I broke you out of prison you’re a fucking asshole,” she points out, though she doesn’t allow herself to look at him again, instead focusing on filling the two glasses before sliding one over to him. 

--

Andy can’t help but feel like she’s holding her tongue, that she’s simply being polite rather than saying what she wants to. Maybe he’s making that up, maybe it’s his own confusion that’s clouding everything, leaving him feeling like a conspiracy theorist about his own life. Clearly, he hadn’t murdered anyone important to her -- He wouldn’t imagine Rowan would be having a casual conversation with him if he had; Andy assumes he would have gotten a knife in the back the second he turned away from her, if that were the case. Maybe they were friends. Maybe they were -- “The Yukon is out of the question.” He forces himself to say in an attempt to keep his thoughts from spiraling. It’s like he’s a teenager or something, unable to talk to a pretty girl -- The juxtaposition of this conversation to the last twelve hours only makes his head spin. Aside from small changes in his demeanor, Andy manages to keep a neutral expression, not giving away everything he’s thinking. That’s one of the perks of the last seventy years, in some twisted way -- At least now he’s got a good poker face. As a kid, he wore his heart on his sleeve, practically an open book with every emotion written across his face. 

Brows furrow as she speaks, a bit surprised at her suggestion. Andy may not know her -- You do though, idiot. You just don’t remember -- but knowing her past, he’d imagine she’d probably end up asleep on the floor as well, if not keeping a careful eye on the door of her bedroom the entire night. The idea of a soft bed, silk sheets, all of the mundane and obvious comforts, still feel out of arms reach for him, regardless of the circumstance -- A voice in the back of his head reminds him he doesn’t deserve any of them, anyway. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next safe house.” He can’t help the small smile that comes with his words, a slight chuckle following. This feels like they’re picking up a conversation from before, as tense as everything is -- Like they’re calling back to something from hours before. “This is probably one of the nicer safe houses I’ve been in. Beats getting --” He stops himself from bringing up being put on ice when a mission is over, put away until they need him to murder some world leader or senator. 

He watches her for a moment, not sure what else to say to her in that moment -- He finds himself studying her for a moment too long, nodding as she answers his thanks. A brow arches as she insists upon needing a drink, that he join her. It feels so familiar it’s jarring, leaving him only able to watch as she moves, pulling a bottle from a cabinet before calling him an asshole and pouring them shots. “Jesus, you really are Russian.” He teases her without missing a beat, as if he’s joked about this with her before. “I could use a drink.” Andy admits in a voice that doesn’t sound like his own -- It’s softer, a bit quieter even though they’re not in a position where they have to keep their voices down. He follows her lead, noting the way she doesn’t look back at him while she pours. Andy wonders if it’s deliberate, like he’d done before with the first aid kit -- Or if he was just starting spiral again, making up shit to fill in the gaps and ease his own stress. Moving to stand beside her, Andy becomes painfully aware of the distance between them -- He doesn’t let on to anything, though. Instead, he leans against the counter, facing her. Holding up the glass he’s been given, Andy taps it on the counter before downing it. “Cheers.”