#ft. nan

[romymccready]

who: @nanxschaefer where: white party

𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐲 the hors d’oeuvres table, a plate in one hand and some concoction from the bar in the other. she looked over the spread with open curiosity, not used to food prepared by michelin chefs. she thought michelin made tires. what did they know about food? “have you ever been to a michelin restaurant?” she asked nan, eyeing a green dip on the table. her own plate was painfully bland, piled high with plain crackers she’d grabbed from the cured meats and cheeses. “the chef apparently has one.” she figured nan knew more about food than she did. “have you seen francis, by the way?” one brow lifted. “we had to basically drag him outta bed, and the first thing he does here is fucks off and gets high.”

[romymccready]

who: @nanxschaefer where: francis/romy's place

𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 through a lot these past few months. the fire. finding out her brother was engaged. romeo’s death. it was too much for anybody, probably, and romy had never been especially good at knowing what to do with other people’s pain. her empathy was not wide-reaching and it did not spill over easily, but the people she loved, she loved with feral devotion. nan was one of those people. her sister, soon. that was, assuming nan didn’t hate her for keeping the engagement quiet as long as she had. romy wouldn’t have blamed her, exactly. she’d known nan was coming over. she just hadn’t expected to find her lying on the floor. for a second, romy only stood there, looking down at her. not judging or alarmed but sorting through the available responses and finding all of them strange. so romy said nothing. instead, she lowered herself down beside her, careful and a little stiff, until she was lying flat on her back too, staring up at the ceiling. for a few moments, they stayed like that in silence. then, finally, romy turned her head just enough to look at her. “do you want some soup?”

[romymccready]

who: @nanxschaefer where: her & francis's place

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 injured in the fires, romy felt that protective drive kick in. it was the one that had been hammered into her since childhood. but she wasn’t devoting herself to some self-appointed prophet hiding in the backwoods. now her unquestioning devotion belonged to the handful of people she actually gave a damn about. and they were few. she could count on one hand the people who’d managed to matter to her. with nan, it was a simple equation. she was francis’s sister, so she’d matter to romy by default. but nan had become more than just an extension of francis. romy had never been great at figuring out the timeline for friendship. but in her mind, she considered nan a friend, which hopefully wasn’t weird. they’d watched ratatouille together. nan didn’t grimace when romy talked about mice, unlike francis who’d wrinkle his nose in that particular way. she was one half of knitting club, though romy still couldn’t tell if that had been a joke or not. when francis mentioned nan would be staying with them, romy went into full caretaker mode. fresh sheets appeared on the guest bed. clean towels in the bathroom. the scent of burning lavender herbs wafted through rooms, and she scrubbed the floors with vigor. all because she needed nan to have at least one place where she could breathe easy after what she’d been through.

she lingered a little awkwardly in the doorway, shoulders slightly drawn in. “reckon you don’t need me to welcome you in or show you around,” she said. “you know this place better than me.” the walls were still new to her, but nan had been here long before romy had. she couldn’t decide which felt more unnatural: treating nan like some visitor who needed hosting, or doing nothing. naturally, it was the latter. she shifted her weight, fingers brushing lightly against her sleeve. “but, um…i told you before. takin’ care of people in your home’s important to me.” a pause. “so.” her head tilted slightly, considering. “will you let me cook you dinner? or…order. we could order. i’m not particular.”

[romymccready]

who: @nanxschaefer where: ralph’s coffee

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐲 drank coffee. or liked the bright overhead lights in ralph’s that made her blink a few times to acclimatise to, like she was a newborn under the harsh glare of a delivery room. she wasn’t even sure why she’d suggested it to nan in the first place. it had just come out, automatic. coffee shops were normal hangout spots. that’s what they did in friends. their first meeting had gone…better than expected. but romy still carried that unfamiliar nervousness when it came to anything involving francis. as the only person she’d ever managed to feel something romantic toward, she wanted his family to like her. “i saw somethin’ at a lil’ novelty shop i thought you’d like.” she pulled out a small bag and set it on the table between them, nudging it slightly forward. inside was a crochet rat keychain wearing a little sweater that made romy smile when she first saw it. “sorry it’s not homemade. i can knit and sew, but i don’t think i could make this.”

[romymccready]

who: @nanxschaefer where: francis's (and romy's) place

𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲. she padded to the door barefoot, tugging absentmindedly at the sleeve of one of francis’s shirts she’d claimed as her own. after he’d invited her to move in officially, she often had to remind herself that this was her place too. when she opened the front door, the blonde standing there clicked into place immediately, familiar from the framed photos romy had studied too long. “hi,” was all that slipped out. her mind went blank, all the imagined scenarios of meeting francis's sister dissolving in the reality of this unplanned doorstep moment. “you’re francis’s sister, right? francine?” she asked, voice soft but steady. “he ain’t here,” she added, then blinked, hoping that didn’t sound rude. a faint, nervous half-smile tugged at her mouth. she stepped aside anyway, palm brushing the doorframe. “you can come in. obviously. i mean, if you want.”