LOUISE ┊❀
“Okay, but you can’t start off a statement like that and not expect me to get big-headed over it. Do you know me or what?” In true Louise Ophelia Lockwood nature, a moment where the blonde wasn’t completely self-absorbed with compliments, any compliments in this matter, was a dissipated moment. How do you think she went through the day? Full of boredom. There she sat on the pure white perfection of couch begging her desperately to occupy it as she waited for her next client to show up. Phone in her hand, the blonde’s obsession with Choices grew stronger as more books were released and a fantasy-filled side exposed itself. Pixelberry had its way to her heart. Just like the man beside her and the seven-year-old Rottweiler, who has been continuously racing laps around them. Of course, an application held nothing compared to the past of them. It was a sacred topic in their conversations. Both of them had recently become friends due to their move to Los Angeles, at the same timing, allowed them to bond over the glitz and not-so-glamorous street often creeping at any unexpected corner. The energy and the efforts for them to spend time with one another made Louise’s heart flutter. The hopeless romantic in her didn’t need to combust. Everything in this moment was innocent. If anything, it was a foreshadow of what her once - future was supposed to be like. Perhaps, with a child or two, give or take, if the blonde had never dashed from the morning of their wedding day causing them six years before their first encounter happened on a murderous train where both of them having been locked out on the balcony in the meantime. It had been well over a year since the former couple came face to face after her disappearing act, one she wasn’t proud of and she made it known. This, them as friends, was something the blonde appreciated for them having to move forward compared to how hostile things once were in the prior year. The thoughts and the comfort of being midst in these moments with him brought a dimple to press near her mouth corners, only hoping and praying for these to never end.
“What?” A stunned response fell off her lips as it matched her astound expression by his words. Allowing the moment to process them, baby blue hues darting toward the scruffy, neon tennis ball in his possession, as her slim fingers lifted to grab the item which fancied their dog’s interest. A digit of her own briefly grazing his skin unintentionally in the meantime as the neon ball tightened around her grip, looking at the air of distance able to be created. “Man, okay, if I pop my arm out of my socket, you know, I’m delicate, I’m going to blame you, Locke.” Her words were flirty and teasing, just like her lighthearted features, knowing the words sounded opposite to what her tone conveyed. If there was anyone who would understand, it was Frankie. It meant spending more time with him and Louise was instantly sold on it. Taking a deep sigh in, focused on the goal as, within a split second, her arm did a whooshing sound as the scruffy, neon ball, flew in the air, maybe even whooshing through the air in the speed of time sound. “That should give us enough time.” Just like he said. Duke went flying immediately as the ball did not crash down on the white, sandy beach just yet. Nope, it was soaring. Who knew Louise had it in her. It must’ve been the excuse to spend time with her ex-fiancé which got to her eager. Then again, who could blame her? Louise never fell out of love with him. “I think I saw a lifeguard stand in the distance. Is that good with you?”
@candicerking1x1
It was true: he did know her – or, at least, he thought he did. Though his old wounds had started to scab over – and he’d been trying his best not to pick at them – her company still triggered phantom pains. Like a healed fracture, they ached to warn him that a storm was coming. But Louise had been gentle with him. She had never pushed him to give her more than he was able to. Even if her kindness was motivated by some sort of hope, she had never voiced it – never asked him to give her the absolution he knew she must have wanted. He’d never thanked her for that, though maybe he should. After all her running, she’d been able to recognize the same urge in him and help keep his feet on the ground. That had never been much of a challenge for her, though. She may no longer have been his Louise, but even now, she could still him with one look.
The spot where her fingertips had brushed against his palm still itched after she drew away. It teased him for clinging to the ghost of a moment while his pride hung by a sheer thread. Yet his pulse danced, anyway, as he eyed the ratty ball in her grasp. Like Duke, whose excited bucking and prancing continued to fling sand across the tops of their shoes, Frankie was impatient to watch it soar. Throw it far, he plead. But the mirth in her voice drew him back into their banter. "You know, I almost forgot just how dramatic you are,” he quipped, drawing his lips into a sarcastic smile. “Better take it easy. The hospital’s your only bet at this hour.”
Contrary to her claims, Louise had great aim. By the time Duke began torpedoing along the shore after the tennis ball, it had already become a speck among the shadows. Frankie knew better than to waste any of the time she’d bought them. “Good with me,” he agreed and nodded toward the lifeguard tower. A soft breeze threaded through his hair as they padded along the shore. “I thought about trying the whole lifeguard thing out once, but it was way too much pressure – the whole dragging someone out of the water, pumping their stomach thing...it’s got to get old.” He risked a glance at her expression, hoping to find...laughter? Approval? He shouldn’t have craved either, but there he was: hungry for whatever she’d give him.
The realization caused him to lose his appetite.
The darkness grew thicker within the shadows cast by the lifeguard tower. Frankie could hardly make out the wooden steps without the help of the railing, but he didn’t mind. It was easier to breathe beside her clothed in an extra layer of dusk. It stole the color from his cheeks, painting them cool and grey as the smooth stones scattered along the shore. “You know, they really weren’t kidding about the weather here,” he said, breaking his silence. “Back home, it’s more like ‘cloudy with a chance of murder’, but...this is nice. I could almost put up with a One Direction hit right now with this breeze coming in.” On second thought, he realized, that had been a dangerous joke to make. He shot his palm up between them, making sure she could see. “I said almost – don’t get any ideas, Lockwood.”