How is it you could leave a place, come back, and have everything be exactly the same as you left it? Ok, that was not true on a technical level, but as Cassidy made her way down the cobble stone paths of Alston’s town square she couldn’t help thinking just that. It’d been years since she wandered home, choosing instead to fly her parents to wherever she was living at the time. She was able to see her family on the holidays, her mother could see and gloat ( or criticize ) how well ( or how badly ) she was doing and her father could see more of the country. It worked well for all of them. This year, however, her father had gotten ill. Nothing life threatening, thank god, but she felt guilty asking him to travel. So, here she was, bundled up and on errands for her mother, visiting the same shops she had year after year.
A few of them had changed hands, the most notable being Whitman’s General Goods. It was called-- actually, she couldn’t remember. Her mother refused to acknowledge it because it was too ‘puny’, but luckily it hadn’t changed too much, a new paint job, signage, etc, so Cass found it easily. She strolled through the shop, picking up wrapping paper and various holiday materials, her mind drifting. Ok. This was not as bad as she thought it’d be. It was practically muscle memory and it wasn’t as if--
She paused mid thought-- mid step as she rounded the corner and almost collided into another customer. She might’ve cursed, but her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t make a sound. Because even from behind, she knew exactly who it was. Alston’s own Indigo Easton. It had to be. They hadn’t seen each other, they hadn’t even spoken, since she graduated and she wasn’t about to change that now. Still holding her breath, Cass took a stuttered step back. Right. Into. A. Shelf. A chorus of clangs and crashes echoed over the soft holiday music and Cassidy cringed, nearly tripping over her own feet as she took another step to immediately crouch and clean up.”Don’t, uh- don’t mind me. Just uh-- testing for this morning’s mystery sound,” she said, ignoring the hair that fell in her face as she bowed her head. Her heart pounded and she attempted to breath. She was making this to big of a deal. What were the chances Indigo even remembered her? They were slim. Right? @everafteragain