chlorine:) hi been a while and this is ooc just been mentally ill so i forced this outta myself, its short and very much unedited
“Isn’t it weird that the laugh emoji has tears?”
Chloe presses her arm down on Nadine’s shoulder, glancing over her puff of hair to squint at Nadine’s phone screen. “I think I’m funny enough to make you cry from laughter.”
Nadine rolls her eyes. Deletes her laugh emoji. Sends a heart instead to her mother. “Your ego knows no bounds.”
“Why should it,” Chloe mumbles into Nadine’s hoodie.
Nadine huffs and drops her phone in her lap, wiggling around in her position half-sprawled in Chloe’s lap to wind her arms around her girlfriend’s waist.
“How else would they denote laughter in an emoji anyway? Without the tears, it might just look like a big smile.”
Nadine hums, conceding to the point.
“Anyway, you cried when I kicked Nate off the pier.”
“Sometimes you make me laugh.”
“Sometimes,” Chloe replies, dry, near derisive. “I’m glad to hear I can provoke such emotion from you. And on such regular basis.”
“I keep you around for a reason,” Nadine agrees with a giggle.
Chloe doesn’t respond for a moment, grinning too wide over Nadine’s head. Nadine giggles, she thinks. It’s been a few months since Nadine came clean about her feelings and even fewer since Chloe pulled her head out of her arse and admitted to reciprocating them. Over a year since their professional partnership. Still, Chloe finds herself marvelling over the smallest things.
A younger version of herself would howl and sob at her now, at her downright softness. Whatever happened to her unflappable image. Her bad girl image.
She wouldn’t go back if her life depended on it.
Because Nadine giggles when Chloe is charming. Chuckles when Chloe says something clever. Erupts into laughter at harmless misfortunes that befall Chloe. That’s worth more than anything Chloe can mentally conceive.
Soft.
She sighs, dragging Nadine up higher until Nadine cooperates and properly hugs her, so she can dump her nose into Nadine’s neck instead.
“Thanks for keeping me around,” she mumbles.
Nadine’s chest vibrates against her own when she laughs again and speaks: “No problem.”
“Happy Hanukkah. Sorry you couldn’t spend it with your mum.”
“S’all right,” Nadine says into the cotton of Chloe’s sweatshirt. “Told you a million times-“
“Yeah, yeah.”
Nadine squeezes her sides. “Don’t interrupt me.”
“Sorry for being naughty,” Chloe teases, “but no take-backs on the gift.”
“Not sure if refund is an option anyway.”
“Definitely not,” Chloe says with a wicked edge to her voice. Not after the naughty, naughty things they did with it a few precious hours previous. “If only you’d kept the receipt.”
“Hey,” Nadine huffs. “I’m happy to banter with you but don’t go blaming things on me. I’m not the one who squirted all o-“
“Stop!” Chloe groans. “Utterly filthy.”
Chloe slumps into the couch, enveloped in Nadine’s body heat, and keeps thinking about the way Nadine laughs. Keeps thinking about ways to make her do it again. Make her stay for more holidays to come.
gasps. . . a prompt, fic, about the times where chloe was always late-
real quick, gotta write an essay due yday
WAIT I DIDNT KNOTHIS WAS MY MAIN-
Nadine considers herself to be a good judge of character and, within about 3 minutes of knowing Chloe, she already knows Chloe’s trouble.
“You’re late, Frazer.”
“Nice to see you, too!”
She better not make it a habit.
//
She does.
“You’re–”
“Yes, yes, I’m late,” Chloe says, bulldozing through a crowd with her 4-wheel suitcase and forcing Nadine to whirl around to catch up. “Let’s go!”
Rolling her eyes, Nadine follows suit towards the check-in desk where they weigh their suitcases. Of course, Chloe’s suitcase is a single gram off the limit and she’s very clearly smug about it, humming in satisfaction as the attendant sticks the tag on. Nadine has a suitcase and a duffel bag, both of which are a reasonable weight and decidedly under the limit.
Nadine checks her watch. They have 45 minutes to get through security and get to their gate, very conveniently located on the other side of the airport. Chloe just grins at Nadine’s clear annoyance.
“Race you there?”
“I won’t ask them to wait if you’re late for boarding.”
Chloe just grins wider, says, “I’m touched,” and yanks her towards security.
//
The necklace, an ugly thing, is right within her grasp. She cautiously tries the floor… nothing happens. So, she takes one step, two, and reaches out and–
Click of a disabled safety.
“Ah, ah,” comes a deep voice, too pleased, too familiar. “I wouldn’t.”
Nadine tilts her head and lets out a long-suffering sigh. Just her luck. “Shame you aren’t dead.”
Rafe laughs like the movie villain that he is. “You never were good at finishing the job.”
“No,” Nadine says, shrugging, “I suppose not.”
“Well, then, what’s another failure?” He moves, rotates to her 3, and she sees him. A petty part of her enjoys the fact that he had not, at least, escaped the ship unscathed. There is scar tissue. A lot of it. “Oh, how the tables have turned.”
Nadine narrows her eyes. “Remember how I let you live?”
Rafe’s eye twitches. Again, the petty part of her relishes in the fact that he looks on the outside as unhinged as he is on the inside. “You left me to die.”
“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”
“This is going to feel so good,” he sneers.
Sarcastically, she says, “Would it help to know that I’m a changed woman?”
He flushes a deep shade of red, his lips twisting into a scowl.
And, then, BANG!
Blood spatters across her face and arm. Ah, there’s the change to her woman.
“I wish you wouldn’t provoke a man pointing a gun to your head,” Chloe huffs, stomping in just as Nadine mutters, “excellent timing as always.”
“You’re late,” she says, grimacing and wiping delicately at herself with the hem of her shirt.
Chloe snorts and yanks the necklace off the pedestal. “Some things never change.”
“I think some things do,” Nadine says, lightly.
//
“Really?”
Nadine doesn’t turn around. Waits.
Chloe approaches until Nadine can see her from the corner of her eye. She lifts her phone up, opens her texts, and reads: “You’re late.”
“Was I wrong?”
Pocketing her phone with a huff, Chloe leans an arm against the railing and regards Nadine’s profile. After a moment, Nadine turns her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “…No, you weren’t.”
Nadine sighs, putting on a false air of indignation. “When am I ever?”
“Oi, no one ever holds me to it when I say meet me outside in 5 minutes. It just isn’t done. It’s a suggestion. An estimate.” Chloe sniffs and lifts up the arm behind her back, revealing a bottle of wine. “And, anyway, it was worth it.”
“I’m sure.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
Chloe huffs again but her eyes light up with mirth. “If you’re holding me to throwaway lines I’ve said, I’m holding you to yours.”
Nadine lifts an eyebrow. “And what exactly have I said to you that I have not followed through on?”
“You said, and I quote: just steal something and get me out of here, I’ll kiss you, have your firstborn.” Chloe shakes the bottle as if Nadine had somehow forgotten it was there. “I don’t care too much for children, but I stole something and here you are, outside, and, well, I’m waiting.”
“Retributive justice,” Nadine says, smoothly, unashamed, and grabs Chloe by the front of her shirt and yanks her down.
//
On her ascent, 2 men go screaming over the edge of the cliff above her. When she finally hauls herself over, Nadine’s got a boot upon a rock, retying her laces. Behind her, a man lies prone. She has barely broken a sweat.
“You’re late.”
“…you’re attractive.”
Nadine stops, looks up at Chloe through her lashes as Chloe makes a beeline for her. “Okay, I forgive you,” she says into Chloe’s mouth.
//
They’re on the pier again, dressed down this time. It had been an accident, really. They were just taking a walk, winding down from their last job, and had found themselves here.
“I’m late.”
Nadine rolls her eyes and accepts the cotton candy Chloe passes over. “What’s new?”
Chloe hums, steps between her legs, and puts a hand on Nadine’s cheek, the other behind her neck. She kisses Nadine, ardently, into the railing.
“You tell me,” she says once she’s satisfied and pulls away.
Nadine laughs, eyes crinkled around the edges. “Never pegged you as a romantic.”
“I love to defy expectations.” When Nadine prods her in the stomach, she just smiles, obliging. “It would’ve been more romantic if I brought you here–our sweet, little place–in, like, 4 months. A whole year since you first threw yourself at me.”
“You coerced me.”
“It’s not my fault you’re so easily convinced.”
Nadine squints, organizes her face into as much of a pout as Nadine Ross could physically get it into. “Name one other occasion.”
“No, I’ll do you one better,” Chloe says, cockily. “Watch this: meet me here in 4 months, 8 o’clock.” She leans in as Nadine opens her mouth to reply which is the perfect opportunity to lay one very salacious, very public kiss on her. It takes all her willpower to slant her forehead against Nadine’s and pull away. When she does, she grins. “See you there.”
“Don’t be late–” Chloe laughs. “Eish, this doesn’t prove anything.”
//
The jeep comes crashing through the foliage, horn and guns blazing. Chloe jumps out, practically hurls her whole body in Nadine’s direction, and grabs her arm–
Only, Nadine jerks away and shoots the last remaining merc in the head.
“Look, Nadine, it’s not what you think. I had a plan. I have a plan.” She tries again, reaching out. Nadine pulls her arm to her chest and glares. “Really, it’s not–”
“What?” Nadine bites out. “It’s not what?”
Chloe’s about to respond, but Nadine’s really had enough of Chloe’s excuses.
“What is it, then? Enlighten me.” She bunches her fists up but does not move them voluntarily. The shaking, she cannot help. “What plan could possibly involve making a deal with Shoreline? And without telling me shit?”
“I was going to–”
“Oh, fok off.” Nadine breathes out roughly, lifts her fist, the butt of her gun, to her temple and tries to rub away the headache. “You should’ve known. You know.”
“Nadine–”
“I said,” she says, quietly, turning away, “fuck. off.”
“Please. Just– Please–”
“It’s always the same with you. Too little, too late.” She’s hopping onto her motorbike, revving the engine, before Chloe can come up with a response.
And then she’s gone.
//
Nadine doesn’t know why she’s here. She wasn’t going to come even before the Shoreline mess but, then, she was just messing with Chloe. She was going to make up for it, make Chloe laugh, and now, well. She doesn’t know.
She doesn’t know.
The details, she does know. She has friends, still, associated with Shoreline, and they had told her when she had gotten spectacularly drunk, thanks to a different friend, and sent a terse email to those very Shoreline friends.
They had threatened her. Her mother. Her friends. Her–Nadine looks up at the sky and sighs–her girlfriend. Ja, there are so many things she could have done better but Nadine can understand, sort of. Nadine can sympathise. Most of all, Nadine just hurts.
Below her, the water rises and falls, pushes in and pulls away. She looks down into the dark, swirling depths. Catches, in her peripheries, the time: 8:32. She shakes her head, at herself, at this whole situation, and stands fully. She turns, the side of the pier reaching out for the dark ocean is empty, and she leaves.
Then, she misses a step and almost stumbles.
At the other end, leaning against a pillar, Chloe watches her.
Approaching, Nadine gathers her wits and puts on her perfected poker face. When she’s close enough, Chloe pushes off the pillar and takes a few uncertain steps closer. They stop a good meter apart, silent for a few moments.
“How long were you there?” Nadine finally asks. So unimportant, but it was her first thought.
Chloe smiles, fond, wry, sad. “Yes, I was late. I, um.”
This time, Nadine waits for Chloe to explain.
“I was sitting in my car. Since 7:00.” Embarrassed, she glances over her shoulder and points over to the carpark. Looks back.
“Ah,” is all Nadine says.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She takes another step closer but doesn’t try to touch Nadine. Just so she can speak quieter. “I knew. But I did it anyway and I… I am so sorry. I–” She seems to be at a loss for words, rubbing at her neck.
“What do you want?” Nadine asks, not harshly, just prompting.
“I’m not asking for anything, for forgiveness. I just want to make it right.”
“That’s what you want?”
Chloe smiles again, this time it is just rueful. “You know what I want.”
Nadine does know. She’s just not ready. At least, she doesn’t think she is.
After a long time, she opens her arms and it feels like everything from the past few months washes off her, disappearing with the tide, when Chloe collapses into her. “Will you wait?”
Chloe tucks her face into Nadine’s shoulder, lets out a shuddering breath. “I will.”
//
It’s been just over half a year.
Nadine doesn’t think she’s arrogant but she will take credit for Chloe’s new policy of showing up on time. (Of course, she hasn’t done a total 180°. She still refuses to believe Nadine when she tells Chloe that 15 minutes early is on time and on time is late.)
She does think she is quite forgiving.
Chloe’s late, but only by a few minutes.
Then, classic Chloe, she comes charging in and scoops Nadine’s hand into her own. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
Nadine shrugs. “It’s alright.”
Chloe laughs. “Of course it is, you don’t even want to be here.”
“So you did it for me.”
“Well, yes, in a way; I was texting Nate to tell Sam to keep his trap shut about Shoreline.” Nadine’s face darkens, but Chloe starts to pull her towards the Fisher-Drake house and continues on: “Anyway, I think we should move in together.”
Nadine gapes.
//
It’s been over 3 years.
Nadine, drunk, adjusts her ill-fitting tuxedo and hums an old favourite. The man taps his foot, checks the clock on the wall.
“Um,” he starts.
Nadine smiles, blandly. “She’ll come.”
“Are you sure–”
“Ja.”
Vindication comes but 2 seconds later. The doors sweep open with a bang and in comes Chloe, stumbling over a plastic chair.
“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,” she says in a rush, yanking her dress from around the arm of the chair and, when she’s free, turning to flash a megawatt at Nadine. “Hello.”
“Hi,” says Nadine, lightheaded. Before Chloe can apologise for her tardiness, as she does now, Nadine beckons her over, impatient. “Yes, yes, you are forgiven.”
“I went to buy you flowers,” she points out as if she isn’t hugging a massive bouquet to her chest. “Really expensive.”
Nadine, graciously, accepts it and, in quick succession, dumps it into the officiator’s arms.
It takes them another hour to get married.
//
It’s been almost 50 years.
She sits on a bench next to a weeping stranger, leans closer onto her cane to rub a hand on the person’s back.
“Who is it?” Nadine asks after handing over a packet of tissues.
“My father,” murmurs the stranger, a girl, then sniffles.
Nadine nods. “Did he make you happy?”
“No. Sometimes.” The girl looks down at her feet, eyes red-rimmed. “But I don’t know why I’m sad.”
“You feel what you feel,” Nadine says, sagely. The girl gives her a wobbly smile and introduces herself.
After she gets her breathing in control, she gestures vaguely and asks, “What about you?”
Nadine smiles. “Just thinking about her makes me happy.”
“Who is ‘her’?” she asks, frank in the way only children and teenagers can pull off without seeming rude.
Nadine doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking out at the grass, the blue skies, Chloe’s name. Then, she looks back and laughs, so very warmly, and says, “My late wife.”
fyi heres a fic i wrote on my main, based off the homie’s brilliant art which is from 2 yrs ago yes yes whatever @lisahawkeye, as usual there is no plot and i only wrote it cos i saw a rb of it and remembered it & also im putting smth else off, namely my econ midterm (& i call that kid of pragmatic asian dad disease, i will nvr take an econ class again</3)
it’s storming and 3am n i don’t hv my glasses on so here’s fluff. stay safe guys
A crack of thunder wakes her up, fading into a distant rumble and then disappearing into the pitter patter of rain. Dully, the sound of Nadine’s air conditioner drones on.
Chloe rubs a hand over her eye and blinks away the heavy weight of sleep against her eyelids. The curtains are pulled back a bit, so a stuttering light comes through, pulsing with the lightning. In the dim, Chloe shifts and makes out the outline of Nadine’s face. She’s a comforting presence beneath Chloe’s prone body. Nadine’s body, while undeniably strong, is also heartachingly soft, pliant. She has no problem holding Chloe in the most gentle of ways; an arm wrapped there, a leg draped over here.
Chloe smiles, unwittingly, and reaches out to cup Nadine’s jaw. Her palm smooths over the skin there, thumb skimming over the mole on her lip. Stirring, Nadine squints down at Chloe. Almost purely on instinct, she presses a kiss to the apex of Chloe’s thumb, lips curving into a sleepy smile.
After a moment, her eyes close again and she sighs a soft breath into Chloe’s hand. Chloe trails her hand down her face, down her neck, and walks it across Nadine’s arm. There’s a pleasant, dry sort of warmth where Chloe’s skin passes across Nadine’s. She hums a raspy noise of content, closing her own eyes, and wraps her hand around Nadine’s wrist.
Touching Nadine, just being in contact with her, has become one of Chloe’s favourite things to do. Sleeping, then, is something Chloe has grown a new sort of fondness for—though, she has always enjoyed a good nap, there’s an added dimension, with Nadine.
It’s calming, in a profound sort of way, to feel the rhythm of Nadine’s breath, her pulse, echo directly into Chloe’s own body.
Even now, Chloe feels the rise and fall of Nadine’s chest under her. Feels the beat of Nadine’s heart, slow in the arteries of her wrist, against the calloused palm of Chloe’s hand.
Nadine shifts, then. Her hand slips into Chloe’s, fingers interlocking. Chloe turns her head and presses the side of her nose into her torso, inhales the smell of Nadine’s soap. Nadine’s hand squeezes once and Chloe marvels again at the feel of it in her own hand. The simple act of sharing body heat, sharing a bed, fills her up so ridiculously with happiness. A quiet kind that covers her like a blanket.
Thunder storms across the skies again, but Chloe’s already been lulled back to sleep.
The moment Nadine sits down, Chloe’s leaning in and curling into her. Nadine makes a disgruntled noise.
“Watch it,” she murmurs, moving her left arm away. She’s brought with her an ice cream cone.
Chloe snorts at the sight of it, breath fanning gently against the side of Nadine’s neck. “It’s freezing cold, love.”
“Ja, for the weak.”
Chloe’s arm is nestled in the space between Nadine’s side and the crook of her arm. Optimal positioning for a solid elbow to Nadine’s ribs. Nadine squirms away, shooting a scathing look down at Chloe, but she gives the ruse up fairly quickly. Chloe smiles as Nadine settles back into her side.
“I’m supporting local businesses. It’s the ethical thing to do.”
“Mhm,” Chloe agrees. “I’m sure Nestle appreciates the support.”
Nadine’s lips twitch, itching to stretch into the wide grin Chloe adores so much, though she manages to school it into a pout. “The soft-serve machine was broken. It was either a Drumstick or an entire carton of Dreyer’s chocolate chip.”
“You didn’t think to share?”
“Nope,” Nadine says and then she licks up a running streak of ice cream with a very pointed noise of contentment.
Chloe scoffs but turns her gaze away anyway, towards the building on the other side of the street.
It’s flat and ugly looking, a relic of a colonial past. The paint is a tasteful off-white, textured by the brick beneath it. The front is ribbed with architectural structures that Chloe cannot be bothered to appreciate outside of acknowledging that it would make a good foothold. Every other surface of the building is expansive, plain white brick. Lazy. Flat. Ugly.
The building is empty, blinds drawn open to reveal the vacant office space. It’s a Sunday morning. Ordinarily, Chloe would be sleeping right now. If she wanted to, if she tried hard enough, she could still fall asleep right now.
Her breath comes out in a visible puff of air. “You dragged us out here to ‘scout’, and I have yet to hear a single productive observation from you.”
When she looks up, cheek nestled comfortably on Nadine’s leather padded shoulder, she sees her girlfriend happily decimating her cone.
She can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes her. “What happened to keeping a balanced diet?” Chloe asks. “And isn’t breakfast the most important meal of the day? You’re wasting it on ice cream.”
Nadine tongues at her lower lip, eyebrow quirked up as she does it. Chloe knows how sweet a kiss it would be if she dared to steal one right now. “Fruits for breakfast is acceptable, and also when you’re done trying to bait me into bickering with you, I have several things to go over with you.”
On impulse, she reaches up to cup Nadine’s cheek and drags her down for a kiss. It’s sticky and sweet, and cold, too, and Chloe pulls away with a satisfied smack of her lips. Nadine just smiles serenely and takes another bite out of her cone.
Burrowing back into the warmth of Nadine’s side, Chloe licks her lips and makes an approving sound. “Hardly think strawberry flavouring counts as fruit, but I’ll let it slide. It’s cheat day.”
“Can’t say I don’t share anymore, huh?” Nadine says.
She’s always been good about letting Chloe get away with hypocritical cheat day comments – Chloe treats her body well and prides herself on it. Nadine definitely appreciates her efforts, much in the same way Chloe appreciates Nadine’s efforts. Besides, they have the same cheat day; once a fortnight, reserved for gorging themselves on pizza.
Chloe harrumphs and noses at Nadine’s neck. “I’d try to steal the cone from you if I knew you wouldn’t immediately crush the entire thing just to spite me.”
When Nadine laughs, Chloe feels it rumble through her. She inches closer, halfway shoving herself onto Nadine’s lap.
Again, Nadine moves her arm away in accommodation. Probably also to prevent Chloe from attempting a swipe at her ice cream. It works because Chloe is far too comfortable to bother reaching farther out for the cone.
“Where did all the fight go?” Nadine muses. Chloe digs her elbow into her side and Nadine makes a huffing sound that twists into a laugh at the end. “Will you stop that?”
“Will you make me?”
“Will you ever stop compensating for the fact that you’re older than me by acting as if you were twelve?”
“Ouch,” Chloe says after a bark of disbelieving laughter. “You would think a girl would be glad to bag an older woman with a bunch of sexy looking cars.”
Nadine drapes her arm over Chloe’s shoulders, where before they were gripping the back of the bench. “At least you know I’m only with you for the vehicles. I was trying to think of how to break it to you.”
“Yes, thank you for considering my feelings.” Chloe’s hand sneaks under Nadine’s leather jacket and balls the fabric of her shirt up. She tugs at it, smiling guilelessly when Nadine looks down at her.
Nadine snorts and pops the last of her ice cream into her mouth. She leans over and wipes her crumbs off her fingers on top of Chloe’s jeans. In retaliation, Chloe gives her a little kick.
“Come here,” Nadine says, knowing and with a too-smug smile. Her hand comes to grab at Chloe’s chin, lifting her face up.
“Asshole,” she mutters affectionately, into the broad curve of Nadine’s lips.
They kiss for a few long moments, indulging in familiar heat. Briefly, after they’ve parted, they stay huddled close. The space between them is warm and smells like the artificial sweetness of Nadine’s ice cream, and Chloe almost chases back in for another kiss. But Nadine smiles and rubs a thumb on her cheek, and turns back to the building.
“Wanna hear my productive observations?”
Choe rolls her eyes. “I guess.”
Nadine laughs. “Okay, I won’t tell you then.”
“Don’t.”
“I said, I won’t.”
“Good.”
“Nice.”
“Don’t wake me up before eleven again.”
“No.”
“I won’t come willingly,” Chloe hisses, but the effect is lost somewhere in the cotton of Nadine’s shirt.
Nadine looks down at her, smiles. “That’s okay, I’ll drag you out and carry you around if I have to.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Her eyes are closed, the comforting weight of her almost entirely resting on Nadine’s body. Nadine cards her hand into Chloe’s hair. “You’re asleep, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Chloe mumbles, “It’s safe to spill all your secrets now.”
“I think my girlfriend is annoying.”
Chloe doesn’t react. Nadine peers at her and waits a second. Still nothing.
“Love her, though.” Nadine combs her hand slowly, fondly, through Chloe’s hair. “I guess.”
Chloe’s fist tightens around her shirt. Nadine marvels at the way she looks in the frigid air as if she were more solid and tangible than she usually is.
The clouds have been congregating for a while now, getting angrier as the day slogs on into the morning, but snow has yet to fall. Nadine sighs and looks up at the sky, willing it not to start now. Willing it to keep up this little bubble around them for just a bit longer.
Still, weeks after the incident, her midsection aches, stings sometimes if she moved too fast. So, even weeks after the incident, Chloe continues to coddle her and it’s getting to the point where Nadine would honestly rather fly back home to get away and return once she’s well.
She appreciates it, she does, she’s just unused to it. Sure, growing up, her mother doted on her. But by the time she was sustaining more of the injuries on par with her current gunshot wound, she’d been living on her own and spending more of her time in the company of her father. He cared about her, too, albeit in a more indirect way. He was never one to show too much emotion, reserved and stern in almost every aspect of his life except when it came to his wife. When Nadine was hurt on jobs, he would check in more often, gruffly offer her some snacks he’d picked up, and make extra sure that she was healthy before letting her off the bench.
After he died and even more so after Shoreline dissolved, she‘d been on her own. Her mother had, by that point, accepted her taciturn disposition. As long as Nadine continues to call on a biweekly basis, she’s happy. If Nadine forgets to mention a stab wound or two, well, her mother would never know. She is independent to a fault, she knows.
So, the way Chloe hovers constantly on the edges of the room, as if waiting to leap to her aid at a moment’s notice, unsettled Nadine, to say the least.
“I’m fine,” Nadine groans and flops around to press her face into a throw pillow.
“You’re going to suffocate,” Chloe says, exasperation edging into her voice.
A moment later, Nadine feels a hand on her shoulder. She sighs and turns her head so she can look at Chloe sideways. “Not anymore, so I’m fine now.”
“Are you—”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Nadine closes her eyes. Maybe she’ll take a nap.
Chloe sighs again and sits down on the very edge of the couch so Nadine can have space. “Nadine. You know I’m just trying to help.”
Opening her eyes to see an unnaturally forlorn-looking Chloe, she snakes an arm around Chloe’s waist and tugs her farther onto the couch, so Nadine’s basically curled around her arse. She takes a breath, blowing it out after. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” Chloe says with a sag to her body. “Yeah.”
“Look, I’m really not hungry but I’ll eat something later, I promise. Just... thank you, I suppose. For taking care of me.”
Chloe squints at her. “You suppose?”
Nadine huffs. “The amount of tea you’re making me is just excessive.”
“Tea is healthy!”
“In moderation!”
Grinning, Chloe leans over and brushes her hair from her face. “You’re so annoying.”
“Hm, too bad you’re attracted to me, huh,” Nadine mumbles as Chloe presses a soft kiss to her cheek.
“Yeah, it just sucks to be me.”
“Sucks,” Nadine agrees, eyes falling shut once more.
Chloe laughs a little, still pressed in, hair tickling at Nadine’s skin. She kisses Nadine once again, on her temple this time, before standing up. “All right, sleep. I’ll make some more tea.”
“Dickhead.” Nadine can somehow sense Chloe’s fondness. “It’s karma. This is why your life is hard.”
“You’re right.” Chloe touches her fingertips to Nadine’s face and then walks away. “The only easy part is loving you.”
Her footsteps recede toward the kitchen and Nadine slants her head into the pillow, hiding a smile.
Already, Nadine feels as if she has retired. Though she has always enjoyed routine, this is something else entirely—monotony.
Every morning she wakes up at the exact same time, drinks the same coffee, rides the same bus to work. Lunch breaks, she takes alone. The street on which she works is designed to appeal to as many people as possible, so everything is generic as it is flashy. When she had first gotten here, she had devised a list of restaurants within a five minute walk which she would try, and she still uses it as a rotation. On Mondays she eats at the American-style diner, Tuesdays are for Indian food, Wednesdays, Mexican, and so on and so forth.
Work is uninspiring and unfulfilling. Head of security in the city’s biggest music hall. The paperwork is dull and the patrols even more so. The only time she feels remotely close to who she was before Shoreline collapsed is when she’s working out at the gym. Even then, it is a poor substitute.
Routine. Simple, straightforward.
Eventually, she might let go of her resentment and learn to be grateful for the fifteen years she had with Shoreline. Now, however, she can’t help but still be bitter, even two years after it had slipped from her fingers. Her father’s doing; he had grown weak and sentimental, and dissolved the company before she could even think to step in for him. He had gone as far as to forbid her from that career and she was nothing if not dutiful as a soldier and as a daughter, even if it angered her to be so.
She hasn’t spoken to him since. She had moved away so she wouldn’t be tempted to continue their never-ending argument, and found her mind-numbing, soul-sucking job working as a cockblock to crowds of groupies when the next big thing deigned to tour in her coastal city.
She had become robotic. She felt as if she were wasting her life away, doing nothing. Though she was not retired according to the official definition of the word, she had been retired from her career as a soldier and, as someone who had cobbled their entire identity around being one, it was as good as true. Retired at 36.
These are the thoughts that plague her every waking moment. It’s not like the job requires of her more than 4 braincells. She has never been good with idle time.
On top of all that, there is a big concert tonight and will be followed by one more the following night. This, she has been dreading in the months that preceded it. The band is native to the city and, no matter what Nadine thinks of them, they are successful enough for the city to treat them as if they were its crown jewels. They aren’t even a real band—there are only two of them. How they coerced anyone to like them with a name like “Drake’s Fortune,” she will never know.
Still, she doesn’t work at The Rolling Stones, isn’t paid to opine, so she keeps it all to herself and does her job: a circuit of the building, double and triple-checking the locks on all the doors, and checking in on all the guards on duty tonight via radio.
As head of security, she doesn’t have a concrete post for the night. It’s more of a rotation, ensuring the gears are in place and well-oiled, at that. Generally, with big concerts like this, she tries to linger near the backstage to stop any zealous fans her subordinates can’t handle on their own. It hasn’t been that bad tonight and even she will admit the music isn’t terrible. But, of course, the band members themselves sound smarmy and obnoxious. From the hall, she hears the lead, Nathan, try to woo the crowd with his boyish charm and she scoffs at it. Sam the drummer and backup singer tags along and she fears she might roll her eyes so hard they become permanently affixed to the back of her head.
Probably, she has just lost her tolerance for people who are unnecessarily loud about how happy they are with their careers. The irony doesn’t escape her, doing what she does. Every other week, a new band or singer parades through town to laugh and scream and flaunt themselves on a stage in fromt of thousands. And she had been tasked with making sure they make it to the next city intact enough to do it all over again.
She misses the rest of the show, called to the entrance, and she is thankful to leave behind the sounds of the brothers Drake. After that, she has to go help out at the backdoor which takes almost an hour to handle. The thick of the crowd has mostly dissipated by the time the clock hits 12:30am and none of the band members had appeared—thank god for that.
It is another hour before she’s finally finished with all her responsibilities. She immediately takes off her uniform top and ties it around her waist, sweat-stained as it is. She has a second tank top and a spare shirt in her office to change into.
It’s on the way back there that she notices she’s lost the only personal affect she takes to work: a bracelet her mother had gifted her at the airport before she’d left for this city. Immediately, she feels a headache coming on.
If her mother found out, she’d be delivered from an early retirement to an early grave.
Bordering on nauseous, she rushes to retrace her steps: backstage, entrance, backdoor. As she’d expected, she comes up empty. Really, what are the odds?
Sighing, she turns back to the backdoor and begins to unlock it. It’s then when it swings open from the inside; Nadine has to jerk back to avoid getting slammed in the face. A woman comes stumbling out, cursing as she misses the step down into the back alley. She’s in a red shirt, tight and cut just above her bellybutton, and a pair of what looks to Nadine like fashionable, upscale cargo pants. In her hand, she holds a phone which she had obviously been watching instead of her step.
Nadine scowls. “Hey, watch it.”
The woman spins around, a look of surprise flashing across her face. “Sorry.” Then, she squints at Nadine, under the neon lights, and her look of remorse fades into curiosity, and mischief, and an infuriating arrogance. “Hey there.”
Nadine only glares and makes for the door. The woman raises an eyebrow and steps in her way.
“I’m not sure you’re allowed back there, love,” the woman drawls, leaning too close into Nadine’s personal space. Ordinarily, Nadine would’ve put this woman in her place instantly, but the confidence and her apparent access to the backdoor leads her to believe she might be with the Drakes in some capacity. She isn’t interested in losing her job over this. “But I’ll be happy to show you to where you are very much welcome.”
Oh, she thinks Nadine is a groupie. She closes her eyes and tries not to fly off the handle. “Christ, I don’t know who you are but I work here and I’m not in the mood for this.”
To her credit, the woman takes it in stride. She sticks her hand out. “Chloe Frazer, touring member. I play bass.”
Nadine stares at her hand. Stares at the wrist attached to her hand. Stares at the bracelet looped around the wrist.
Slowly, Chloe’s smile fades and she drops her hand. “Look, are you lost?”
“Am I— I’m the head of fucking security,” Nadine barks out, near trembling with rage. “And you’re wearing my fucking bracelet, and you’re in my fucking way, and you’re wearing my fucking bracelet!”
Chloe steps back at the sheer outrage in Nadine’s voice.
“Well?!” Nadine thunders.
Sheepishly, Chloe takes the bracelet off and holds it out to Nadine— she snatches it back and tightens it hard enough to maybe cut off circulation.
Chloe clears her throat. “Hey, uh, I found it. I was going to bring it to lost and found.”
Nadine scowls. “Funny, I’ve worked here for ages and I’ve never heard of the back alley lost and found. Must’ve slipped my notice.”
“Actually, the thing is, I was going to make a call first—”
“Save it.”
And Nadine wrenches the door open and slams it shut behind her, and storms her way through the building with a glower so biting she thinks she spots Nathan Drake ducking behind a crate to get out of her way. As it should be.
note: so basically im incapable of giving either of them occupations that arent treasure hunting so it wouldve turned out chloes an eccentric well off treasure hunter who also plays bass sometimes for her friends cos she’s a hot girl and nadine, unhappy w her career, is offered a job by chloe (see: tll) but this is only after nadine n chloe hv been dating for a while:) i dont like this enough to continue it but here ya go
note: hey so been gone for a while, i was struggling a lil w some personal stuff but im tryna b proactive so we good! i just wanna say that i kno life is rough n if anyone’s hving it rough too my thoughts are with u! anyway on with the fluff as usual, lmk what u think?
The sun sets, and the sky is a landscape painting of thick strokes of purple, and red, and orange. Chloe flips on the headlights and drives slower, trying to make the ride back to civilisation as smooth as she can. Beside her, Nadine props an elbow on the door, leaning her chin into her palm, and keeps a protective hand on the bejewelled box in her lap.
They’re about a third of the way from the closest town; they still have a few hours to go. The ride home is always weird, after an explosive and successful job. An abrupt calm after quite a storm. It makes her reflective and so she thinks.
Nadine, similarly, seems to be deep in thought, turned out to look at the view. The way ahead is, for once, smooth and straight-ish, so Chloe turns and watches Nadine shift uncomfortably in her seat, bruised as she is, and watches the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathes. She’s outlined in a reddish glow, brown skin no doubt sun warm now.
A monkey-patterned bandaid is stuck onto her temple and another sits on the inside of the bicep draped over the door. Chloe had seen that in the supermarket a few months ago and had been waiting for this job to show Nadine—admittedly, to poke a little fun, not that Nadine ever really minded. Anyway, it’s not like she could complain when Chloe was patching her up.
Nadine’s eyes blink close, eyelashes on her cheek, and Chloe’s breath catches.
She turns back to the road and slows the car to a stop. With a deep breath, she says: “Hey, so.” Pauses. Gathers her wits. “...do you want to get married?”
Nervous, she picks at the wheel and looks over. After a second, Nadine’s eyes open. She hums, shrugs, and turns away from the view to finally make eye contact with Chloe. Then, she smiles a little, nonchalant, and says, “Ja, sure.”
It’s a little underwhelming but Chloe didn’t even bring a ring to her proposal so she doesn’t have a foot to stand on. She starts the car again and says, nodding, “...Great. Yes, that’s nice.”
“I agree,” Nadine says, amused. The arm on the door flops down when she twists to face Chloe.
Chloe doesn’t blush often and this won’t be one of those times but it’s damn close. She chews on a lip and then clears her throat. A distant part of her wants to know, so she asks, “Why, though?”
Nadine snorts. “Why not?”
“That’s— What? Nadine, that’s not a reason to want—” Chloe sputters out. Eventually, she gets it together and glares at her. “Fine, why not? For one, I’d make a terrible wife.”
Again, Chloe sees from the corner of her eye, Nadine shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t think you’d be and, I mean, have you been married before?”
Chloe squints at her and huffs, guessing where this is going and not appreciating the fact that she’ll probably lose this argument. “No, I have not.”
“So, how do you know you’d be a terrible wife?”
Chloe tries to suppress a smile at this ridiculous exchange. She feels a little stupid, for worrying. She’s Chloe Frazer; she’s a whole forty-year-old, and she does not get shy and insecure. She blows out a breath, laughing ruefully. Then, finally feeling more like herself, she faces Nadine and grins roguishly. “You’re right. I can cook, easily, and make you laugh, also easily, and I’ll happily fuck the life out of you five times a night.”
Fondly, with a smile, Nadine rolls her eyes. “Ja, sure.”
After a beat, she becomes serious again and reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind Chloe’s ear. Chloe leans into her hand.
Quietly, she says: “Okay, back at you: why?”
“Why do I want to marry you?” Nadine nods. Chloe just looks at her again, for a long moment and, of course, Nadine holds her gaze, evenly. Eventually, Chloe’s lips tilt into a smile. “Why not?”
Nadine laughs and nods, accepting the answer. “Okay, then.”
“Okay? We’re getting married?”
She nods. “We’re getting married.”
“Huh. Well.” Chloe feels like her face is going to break with how wide she’s grinning. “Glad that’s settled.”
