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" don't look now but that cutie at the other end of the bar is TOTALLY checking you out. " avery gave a wiggle of her brows, drink in hand as she gave a gentle nod of her head in their general direction, " what's the vibe? need me to be your bodyguard or wingman? i'm good for either. "
location : the barn
it was another day at the flower shop for genevive and she was excited to see all the wonderful arrangements she was about to make for everyone in the small town of bear creek. She placed the first one in the window before hearing the door open. “hello, welcome.” Is there anything I can help you with today.”? She asked with a smile as she went over to her note pad to begin writing.
who: open when: late afternoon / early evening where: bear creek lake (aspen glen)
the question whether today could stil be mid-july rolled around kurt's head as he watched his line fall into the lull of the lake. it seemed to late in the month, but he wasn't sure he was ready to say goodbye to his favorite time of year. of course, the summer was still sweet, but it didn't want to think of how much closer they were to the chill of the incoming seasons. his gaze moved easily across the landscape (lakescape?), intending to catch sight of his dog romeo as he soaked in the bright colors. he sighed before the remaining question settled: where was romeo? in his contemplation, the dog had snuck away and approached the distant figure kurt has noted some time ago. the panic of embarrassment caused him to drop the fishing pole and rush over to the pet who was sniffing and circling the other individual. "sorry about that," kurt said as he leaned over and hooked the leash onto the dog's harnass. "i don't know when he got so sneaky. he's harmless, but still, i hope he didn't bother you." he offered an apologetic smile.
location: Pour Decisions
"You. You, come over here a second." Victor beckoned. He needed to work on his people skills, that was true, but he also needed a second opinion. "No, just, leave that, sit here, and try that. Go on. Seriously. It's stale, right?" He scoffed as he slide the small white plate of biscotti towards the stranger. "And it's not the kind of stale where it's been sitting in a display for a few hours, that's gotta be days old, right? I mean it taste like they went to a supermarket and bought it in bulk and now they just leave it there. Is this really what we've come to? I might as well gone to Starbucks."
✤ STARTER. open to everyone ! ( 5 / 5 ) location. the velvet brew.
● ● ● the bitter smell of coffee permeated the shop softly as cordelia moved behind the counter. she was in a good mood, something that wasn’t rare per se, yet the way it was noticeable was. unaware of it, she softly smiled at the person behind the display case that showed the arrangement of sweets the coffee shop offered to accompany its beverages, and inclined almost imperceptibly to whisper, “ if you’re indecisive and drinking something sweet, i recommend the blueberry cheesecake, ” she started, drying her hands with a cloth that she graciously attached to her apron before continuing. “ now, if you’re having something more bitter and unsugared, i would definitely go for the lemon pie. ”
setting: buried deep in the bear creek park, with open (0/3).
perspiration sticks to her temple and the back of her neck as she finally stops moving. stillness is not something unfamiliar, though it is unwanted at this moment – though it is necessary. she has been walking up the mountain for hours now, and the least she needs is to take a sip of water. footsteps disturb them from admiring the horizon ahead of them, and they turn their head to glance at the one that approaches. "seems we both found the secret spot." they are not one to share, but the park is public, isn't it? her tongue itches to ask if they'd been following her into the wilderness, but a voice that sounds awfully like jasmine's whispers in her ear to be freaking nice. so she is freaking nice. "i have a spare water bottle if you need it."
𝐖𝐇𝐎 : open to anyone ! ( 2 / 3 ) 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 : nighttime, half past ten. 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 : the curb outside neon rainbow.
she ought to just go home. least, that's what she tells herself, sitting perched on the curb outside the bar, head between her knees. not cause she's drunk, no. after one rum and coke? she wasn't even close. but, cause a couple of her ex's friends showed up at the bar after tess finished that single rum and coke. and, the last thing tess needed was her ex getting a report that tess was spotted sitting alone at the bar, looking sorry as shit for herself.
was she? feeling sorry for herself? fuck, probably. she spent a lot of time doing that these days. but that wasn't the point. the point was that her ex didn't need to know she was. so, tess slunk out the front door ( hopefully ) without being noticed, and made camp on the front stoop.
not like she should be surprised they'd show up there. not really. it's not like tess got their favorite bar in the divorce. just the shop, and what was left of her dignity. the thought makes her laugh. a dry, choked noise that catches in her throat. "fuck, man," she mumbles to herself, and looks up. finally looks up. she reaches into the front pocket of her shirt to fish out the half-finished packed of american spirits tucked there, flips open the lid, and pulls out the lucky, sliding it between her lips. figures, she could use all the luck she could get right now.
she reaches back into the pocket then, fingers scissoring around for the lighter. and then, remembers: she'd lent her lighter to one of her clients at the shop earlier today. they'd never returned it. tess groans, cigarette still dangling from her lips. then, returns the cigarettes to their rightful place in her pocket, and stands.
"hey, 'scuse me," she turns just in time to catch someone walking by. going into the bar, or just passing by, it doesn't matter to her. what matters is the unlit cigarette clenched between her front teeth. "sorry to bother you, friend. but, uh, you got a light, maybe?" she thinks, she sounds a bit pathetic. maybe it's just in her head, but she can practically hear the scrunch between her eyebrows, and the twinkle ( or lack there of ) in her eyes that just screams, have pity on me, please! she grimaces at the thought, then quickly fixes her face, doing her best not to offend.
𝐖𝐇𝐎 : open to anyone ! ( 3 / 3 ) 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 : late morning, early afternoon. 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 : saddle grove park, near the picnic tables.
absurd. that's the word, absurd. the one sullivan has spent the past ten minutes worrying the inside of his left cheek trying to remember. of course, he had no trouble remembering a handful of far more intricate sounding synonyms. ludicrous, for one. preposterous, for another. but none of the counterparts felt as authentic as 'absurd' did. none of them seemed to quite do justice to just how sullivan was feeling: paper coffee cup almost emptied of decaf drip in his right hand, neon orange plastic ball launcher in his left, and wrapped in the blanket of a beautiful summer's day. it all felt rather absurd.
because, well—this time last year, sullivan was still in california. still ruminating over a ladder of blank, spiral-bound blue lines. still trying to ignore the hot breath of his management down the back of his neck. and now here he stands, reloading a soggy, bright blue tennis ball into one of those hand-held ball launchers to toss for a dog—a border collie, an impulse decision—he hasn't even named yet.
"right then. ready, boy?" he draws his arm back, ready to launch the ball once more. but, the dog takes off prematurely, drawn away from the ball by the presence of . . . well, sullivan isn't exactly sure, what. at best, a squirrel? at worst, another person? "shit." he drops the launcher, and whistles, trying to call the dog back. to nobody's surprise ( not even his own ) the dog does not listen, and sullivan is forced to chase after. he scrambles for the leash he'd removed previously to allow for adequate fetch playing, a decision he was seriously beginning to regret.
the pursuit is short, and he finds the dog greeting a poor passer-by with a barrage of sniffs and licks and jumps. suddenly a heat that cannot be attributed to the summer sun spreads to his cheeks, and he goes red. beet, really. mortified. "christ almighty, apologies. a hundred apologies. a thousand, even." he approaches the stranger and gently guides the dog away by the collar, before attaching the leash once more.
sullivan keeps his eyes down, unable to meet the gaze of the stranger. "i hope he didn't hurt you? or startle you? he is . . . well, he's never done that before." technically the truth—sullivan had adopted the dog only a week ago, and the dog hadn't done such a thing during their short time together. "are you all right?"
