#elaine burrows

[girldisguise]

by the summer of ‘79, they had to sever ties prematurely; elaine burrows was dead, murdered – perpetrator at large.

[phabblebabbles]

“You can trust me.” Ward Eastwood x Elaine Burrows

“You can trust me.”

“No you can’t!” Elaine Burrows, in a terribly untypical fashion for the young woman, teetered back and forth on a bar stool as she pointed her drink accusingly at Ward Eastwood. 

“Don’t listen to him. He’s got good lines. That’s not even a good one so if you fall for it, you’re just utterly dense.”

“Who the hell is that?” the red head down the bar asked as Ward dropped his head into his hands.

“Would you believe me if I said my sister?” Ward offered

“His ex-girlfriend!” Elaine chimed in from her perch.

“She was dropped on her head as a child, you see…”

“Lies! Lies! Don’t trust him!” Elaine laughed, bringing the glass up to her lips and drinking the rest of it through the cocktail stirrer she was currently using as a straw– something she normally detested.

Despite his assurances that the woman down the bar was harmless, the red headed woman Ward had been chatting up was storming out of the bar and Ward was marching directly towards Elaine.

“You know, you said you’d just sit quietly and sober up,” he reminded her. Elaine was sure he was correct, but she didn’t honestly remember speaking those words. He’d found her stumbling outside the Clam Bar at a rather inappropriate time to be as intoxicated as she was and, after her repeatedly resisting his attempts at putting her in a taxi home, brought her to the bar and set her up with a pitcher of water.

“Another gin and tonic, miss?” the bartender asked, approaching the pair. Elaine nodded enthusiastically, but what shook his head to stop the transaction.

“You said you’d only drink water!” he exclaimed, grabbing her empty glass and sniffing it. “Good lord, Elaine, how many drinks have you had?”

“I have… four drinks on a tab for Eastwood,” the bartender assured him. Ward’s brow furrowed and Elaine giggled.

“Another round!”

“No!” Ward exclaimed, slamming down some cash on the counter and shoving it towards the bartender. Not waiting for change, he pulled Elaine off the bar stool, half guiding and half carrying her out to the street.

“Where are we going?” she inquired, her words slurring as she stumbled, Ward’s grip on her arm the only thing keeping her upright. 

“Home, before we have to get your stomach pumped,” Ward grumbled, waving down a taxi and half shoving her inside. He gave the driver her address as Elaine leaned into his shoulder. The world was spinning out of control but she wasn’t sure if that had to do with the alcohol or not.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” he asked once the cab started moving. Elaine shrugged in response.

“Nothing.”

“Elaine Burrows doesn’t drink low shelf gin in her tonics for nothing,” Ward pointed out. Elaine pushed herself away from him, resting her head against the window of the cab, silent. “Fine. We won’t talk about it.”

“Its never me,” Elaine said after a few moments of silence. “They never pick me.”

“Who?” Ward asked, looking up from his phone.

“The men I date,” Elaine explained,turning her head to look at him. Concern splashed across his face.

“…Are you talking about…” he began, but Elaine interrupted him.

“You? Oh, god, no,” she immediately replied, rolling her eyes at him. He instantly looked relieved.

“The painter? What’s his name?” Ward offered..

“Alan? Oh. No, not Alan.”

“Wait– you’re still angsting over Mr. Fix It?” Ward exclaimed, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Elaine was silent. It was about James and the  rumors of him planning to propose to Natalie Connors that were all over town.

“Elaine, its been long enough with him, hasn’t it?”

Silence.

“Look, I could understand binge drinking away your feelings over someone smart, suave, and devilishly handsome like myself, but not Mr. Fix It. I can’t believe you even dated him in the first place.”

“You don’t even know him,” Elaine mumbled. Ward rolled his eyes at her.

“I know that he’s an idiot to have let you go… as if Mr. Fix It could possibly do better than Elaine Burrows,” he assured her.

“You’re just being nice because I’m drunk,” Elaine retorted. 

“No, I’m serious. You can trust me,” he replied, putting his hand on her chin to tilt her face up at meet him eye to eye. “Because I’m definitely not trying to sleep with you,” he concluded with a half smirk. 

“You’re gross,” Elaine grumbled in what may have been her worse comeback in years. Ward laughed.

“But you keep me around anyway!” he proclaimed as the taxi pulled into her driveway. Elaine fumbled with the door handle, finally managing to open it. “Need help?” Ward offered. She shook her help.

“I’ve already ruined your night,” she hoisted herself out of the car with a surprising amount of grace for someone eight cocktails deep.

“My night is just beginning, don’t you worry your pretty little drunk head about that,” Ward assured her as she cautiously walked towards her front door. “Hey, Burrows?” he called as she pushed the key into the lock.

“Yes?” Elaine asked, turning back around momentarily.

“I’m serious about everything I said.”

Elaine simply smiled, gave him a bit of a nod, and then disappeared inside her front door.

[phabblebabbles]

“don’t you ever, for a second, say i didn’t try.” elaine burrows x john bowers

“Don’t you ever, for a second, say I didn’t try,” John Bowers said with a joking chuckle. 

Spring had come to Virginia Beach and with that, wedding season. It seemed like at least every weekend was occupied by someone’s nuptuials, which didn’t bother Elaine in the slightest. Spring was her best season at the shop and this year profits were exceptional. The bride for this weekend’s wedding had, of course, also come by the shop for her gown but, unlike with many of her customers, Elaine was also a guest at the wedding. 

“Never!” she protested, looking up at John. “You’re doing quite well, I must say!”

Ward had agreed to be her date to this wedding. Platonic wedding date, she had assured him. She had imagined it might be a fun evening of champagne and Elaine playing the roll of wing man to her old friend. But a week out, something (or, more accurately, someone) had come along to draw his attention, leaving Elaine dateless for the evening. 

John was a good sport about the situation when Elaine explained it to him and instantly agreed to come with her. He’d even joked he’d go by Ward the entire evening to see how confused people might become. She’d assured him that wasn’t necessary, but being able to dance properly would be. 

The pair were currently on her back patio, music flowing through the open door from the kitchen, as Elaine instructed John on the ways of dancing properly. 

“It isn’t this bump and grind nonsense that seems to be so popular,” Elaine had informed him, fully realizing John Bowers was not the sort of person who would be dancing in such a way. “Its proper dancing, like civilized humans.”

Elaine would confess she hadn’t expected him to pick up the steps so easily. As the song came to an end, she gave him a light applause for his performance. John make the motions of bowing.

“I’d say you’re nearly ready for the more advanced class,” she grinned as the music stared up again. 

“Something more along these lines?” John asked, grabbing her hand, spinning her around and dipping her backwards in a move that caught Elaine completely off guard. 

“I don’t think you needed my lessons,” Elaine commented once she’d regained her composure. 

John simply grinned and pulled her back upright. “Or maybe you’re just that good of a teacher.” Elaine stared at him, the hint of a smile on her lips. 

“I’ll pick you up at two tomorrow,” John informed her, grabbing his coat off the chair and heading towards his truck.

Elaine Burrows, from that moment on, never dared to underestimate her gardener again.

[phabblebabbles]

👕- elaine burrows

👕- ClosetIts not hard to believe this, but Elaine has a well organized closet. When her aunt left the house to Elaine, one of the first things the young woman did was completely re-do the walk in closet. It currently has 4 separate hanging seconds, one for shirts, one for skirts, one for dresses, and one for formal wear. It also has a wall of shoe storage, since shoes are one of Elaine’s guilty pleasures. 

[phabblebabbles]

My friend keeps posting snapchats from Virginia Beach and I keep thinking "I bet Liz and Elaine hang out there."

[oceanfrontowen]

Drinking Buddies | Owen & Elaine

There’s too many people at my house. 

Well, there were three -- excluding his brother and their roommate -- but that was three too many as far as Owen was concerned. He took one look into the living room through the window and he turned back around. He didn’t mind when they had people over, he just didn’t want to be there when they did. 

Owen found himself walking down Atlantic Ave which was, unfortunately, flooded with tourists. Taking a detour down one of the side streets, he wandered into one of the bars.

He took a seat up at the bar and ordered a beer and that’s when he noticed Elaine was sitting alone at the other end. She was texting on her phone and hadn’t noticed him walk in. Owen motioned to the bartender and told him to send her down a drink from him. 

When she asked him what drink, Owen shrugged. “I don’t know. Something ... colorful. Something with a little umbrella.” 

[oceanfrontliz-blog]

Gin's Our Tonic | Lizaine

“You can stop worrying like a mother hen, I’m finally here.” Liz said with a wicked grin as she sidled up next to her best friend and mirror opposite, Elaine Burrows as she lingered by the window of the Foster’s living room. “I should have texted you that I was going to be late, I know, but I was having a little, ah... pre-party at the bar--sort of a last minute thing, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be.”

Okay, so maybe she’d been trying to scope out a date to bring to this stupid event that Elaine had told her about. Liz was all for supporting local artists, of course, but a house party to unveil a new work by someone she’d never heard of? That was a recipe either for disaster or the most epic party on record. And either way, Liz wasn’t about to show up anywhere within throwing distance of sober. 

She’d been hoping to score a hottie to bring along with her, too, for whenever Elaine got pulled away by her other multitude of friends. But for some reason none of the Grade A prime cuts of beefsteak that she’d seen had really interested her. They hadn’t been blonde enough, or tall enough, or snarky enough... If Liz hadn’t known better, she’d almost think she had been looking for a stand-in for her mystery man on the hill, Nick McLain. But that was preposterous, right? They’d only spoken the once, he’d made her breakfast, and she’d gone on her way. That was that... Supposedly...

“Would it help you hate me less if I told you I brought you a present?” Liz grinned a little, raising her eyebrows before going to unzip her purse and pulled out a full bottle of Hendrick’s, wiggling it slightly in Elaine’s direction. “I may be late, but at least I’ve come to save you from cheap beer in red solo cups.” Without prompting, the young blonde plucked the cup from Elaine’s hand, drained the contents in one fell gulp, then poured a healthy dose of the gin into Elaine’s cup before handing it back. Liz herself took a hefty swig straight from the bottle as she grimaced a bit and turned to survey the room.

“Now. please tell me that at least one exciting thing has happened at this party to make it worth my time? I can’t be the only one causing scandals around VA Beach. It gets boring seeing just my and Lex Porter’s faces every week on page six.” 

[oceanfrontdrew]

Bored | Drew & Elaine

“Hey, so question: do normal girls actually buy these things? I mean that dress over there was like five grand and she’s only going to wear it for a couple of hours and then never again? I mean, unless she gets married again. But that’s gotta be some kind bad luck, right?” He leaned up against the counter, “Seriously though, if they are willing to drop that kinda cash for that .... I think I’m in the wrong business.” 

Drew had been pacing the showroom for the good part of the last thirty minutes. Ginny was in the dressing rooms with another very particular customer whose appointment was supposed to have ended about an hour ago. 

I really need to stop telling her I’ll pick her up from work, he thought. 

He drummed his hands on the counter impatiently. Really, though, how long did it take to pick out a dress? “Hey, if I go in there and help close this sale, would you pay me 1/2 the commission?” He said, teasingly. Although if it took any longer, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t serious.