It was undoubtedly true that when it came to self destructive spirals, both Penelope and Owen had done their fair share of damaging shit. She held her hands up to it most of the time, and Owen had a family far too big and loud to not get hauled out on his nonsense. So she could hardly be annoyed at his remark on self destructive benders, merely rolling her eyes at him, a hand flying out to slap lightly across his shoulder. “Hey, I can still drink you under the table any day of the week”. Actually that might have been true – she’d held her own with him well enough when they’d been together, but since their breakup she’d thrown herself down and poured her soul out into many a glass of wine. And, whilst Owen had not been averse to a drink or two, he’d smartened his game up when he’d found out that Abel was on the way – Penelope hadn’t. If anything she’d committed even harder to her quest for oblivion. So much so that she’d almost succeeded, once or terrifyingly twice. Even remembering how she’d been all but skin and bone and complete mess when she’d returned to Wilmington, tail between her legs was enough to make her cringe. Funny in a way, it had only been a few months since they’d ran into each other in the auto lot, but it felt like years had passed. No, if you’d have told Penelope that just a few months down the line she’d be sitting on a beach, celebrating Owen’s first fathers day with a cold beer and feeling genuinely optimistic for the future, she would have laughed. But life had a funny way of coming at you fast.
“I like soft sappy Owen” she decided with a small nod, absently propping an elbow on his shoulder so she could lean and run a hand through his hair. “Makes for a nice change”. There had of course been good moments in their relationship before, but they’d been fleeting, and had always ended up bubbling over into some sort of argument. That was the marked difference though, any petty bickering they’d had recently had been resolved, both of them making grown up moves to diffuse as opposed to giving in and falling back into old habits of making mountains out of molehills. And perhaps that was just because Jamie was back, or because Abel was around…or maybe it was simply a fact that they were just that little bit more grown up than they had been the first time around. Worn out by the years, jaded from the relentless shit they’d both waded through, till finally they were waving white flags on both sides. Perhaps it really had been that simple – right people, wrong time. How simple that would have been. “So, as this is your day you get to set the agenda” she started, dropping her hand but moving her entire body to rest against him, interlocking her fingers between his “-but I was thinking, beach for the afternoon, then takeout this evening…? I think Jamie said they were going out on a date or something like that so it seems we have the place all to ourselves…”
Owen scoffed, a playful brow raised towards her. “Yeah, yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that, Red, ‘cause I think it’s ‘bout time we have ourselves a rematch.” As odd as it may have sounded, one of the things that had attracted him to Penelope in the first place was her ability to out drink him, something that few men or women seemed able to do. Maybe it was getting older, not being able to handle his liquor the way he used to in college, or maybe she really did have an iron-clad liver, but for a man in his early thirties looking to shack up with the local Irish cuisine, the redhead had definitely caught his eye. Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t attempt again and again to beat her at her own game.
“Mmh,” he groaned lightly, nose crinkled at the compliment which felt more that weird to be receiving. Owen Fitzpatrick wasn’t soft – Fitzpatricks weren’t soft – but considering everything surrounding his life right now, all the good in it, it felt like it would be wasted if he were to keep those walls he was oh so accustomed to all the way up. Letting them down, even just a tiny bit, didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world. “You can call me soft, but ain’t no way I’m a sap. I’ll deny it ‘til the day I die,” he teased, leaning into her delicate hand that ruffled his thick locks. He never expected that being with Penelope again would feel so easy, so right, and while he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified that the other shoe would eventually drop, there was some hope inside of him that he hadn’t seen in quite some time. “All up to me, huh?” he reiterated, allowing their fingers to intertwine before giving Penelope’s palm a light squeeze. A small smile tugged at his lips at the suggestion, nodding then. “I think Jamie goin’ on a date guarantees that we got the place to ourselves for at least two nights,” he pointed out with a chuckle. “Don’t think I could come up with somethin’ better even if I tried.” And he couldn’t, because these days everything was beginning to feel so simple. No chasing thrills, no yearning for an adrenaline rush that would cause him to spiral face first into a world of trouble. Letting out a low hum, he planted a kiss on Penelope’s forehead, the sounds of waves and Abel playing in the sand enough to top off a day that almost felt too good to be true – and for Owen, that was surely saying something.
