#hazelboyd

[lilianapisano]

「    ─ @hazelboyd. 

             An evening like the Masquerade Ball was easily exhausting. The preparation took hours on hand for it only lasting a few hours. The option was going out or staying home. Liliana had picked the option to dress up, enjoy an evening out instead of lounging on her couch and dwelling upon every quiet second. After the loss of Claire Scott, her head was everywhere. Confused, lost, lack of motivation, hopeless and weary. For someone who acted like ‘everything was fine’, it was nothing but the opposite now. Liliana hated the world. She’d never admit this but she needed to stay behind her facade. All of the delicate placed facade of everything being okay. There was one person she needed to be with, Hazel Boyd, her best friend and her other half. From a young age, these two shared such similar stories allowing these grown woman to where they currently are today. In their later twenties, one of them pregnant with twins and the other about to become a lawyer. It seemed like everything was kindly working for them. Or, this is how Liliana seemed because her last few weeks have been rather suffocating. Also, one of the reasons why she didn’t want to stay in was to think. Finishing her climb toward Hazel’s, she held carefully onto a box of chocolate knowing Liliana could never arrive empty handed. After everything that happened, witnessing the uproar of chaos among the ball, this was all she wanted to focus on here. Knocking onto her best friends door, the female beamed at her pregnant best friends from behind the door. “Hi gorgeous,” said Liliana, entering into a warm embrace. “How are you and my future niece and nephew doing? I come with gifts. Chocolate gifts and my dazzling presence.”

[gracewalsh]

@hazelboyd

“Order for Hazel Boyd!” a voice called out through the cafe, and Grace perked to attention at the name. It was one she heard far too often lately, in terms more flattering than she would have granted, which only made her resent the other woman all the more... 

Davis Sampson, with all his grumpy charm, had become something of a favorite of hers - the kind of patient she felt protective of in a way she so rarely did. Maybe it was because she saw streaks of her father in him, the kind that would have scared her normally had she not known that they terrified and tortured him just as much. He felt, sickeningly, like a version of her father she could save, and until his most recent setback, she had actually believed it might be possible. 

But Davis had a albatross around his neck, by the name of Hazel Boyd, and Grace knew he could never be cured so long as she still hung around. He had placed her on a pedestal, deemed her undeserving of reproach, and piled all of it on himself instead. A fucking martyr, and Grace couldn’t figure out why the fuck she put up with it in him... 

Her eyes spied the head of blonde hair at the counter, and as the woman turned around to face the cafe at large, Grace could see what Davis saw in her: tall, blonde, and gorgeous, with a natural femininity and kind eyes... They'd make a beautiful pair for sure, and even more beautiful children - all long limbs and angular bone structures, blonde haired and blue eyes like a fucking Aryan wet dream... And because she was looking for flaws, she decided to hate the woman for that, too. 

Hazel started to make her way in Grace’s general direction, and Grace, for once, found she couldn’t stop herself from making a comment. “Hope there’s not caffeine in that,” she smirked, knowing full well she held the upper-hand in this encounter. “Hazel Boyd - I overheard. This seat’s free,” she pointed to the seat directly opposite her, the not-quite-a-request implied rather than spoken. 

[davis-sampson]

@hazelboyd

Grace had decided that a change of pace would be good for them, so they were having their weekly session at the coffee shop down the street. It was quiet at this time of day, and they’d found a table near the back where they could have some form of privacy in their discussion. 

“As much as I very much would have liked to have seen you swoop in all action-hero-mode, you can hardly blame yourself for not being there to save the day,” Grace assured him, something weird and stilted in her tone he didn’t dare ask about. He knew that she was there, and while he knew it was likely a traumatic event for her, he was hardly going to play psychologist to his psychologist. “If there’s an earthquake in Peru, are you going to be there to save them too?” 

“But this is different,” Davis protested, knowing for all intents and purposes he was being irrational, but unable to stop himself from doing so anyway. “I knew these people. Claire Scott - one of the people that died - we went to high school together. I talked to her a few weeks ago and I was a total asshole.” 

“So you were an asshole!” Grace brushed it off with a shrug. “Congrats. Hate to break it to you, Davis, but you sort of are sometimes. So am I. So is everyone. The guy I cut off in traffic yesterday could have died from a heart attack last night - does that mean I have to feel bad? No. It’s life! Death is the only way out of it, and no one gets to escape, and you of all people should know that.” 

Davis wanted to argue that death by tent fire was hardly the natural order of things, but it felt rather pointless. Besides, there was a part of him that felt like he didn’t even deserve the luxury of mourning Claire’s death - he never really knew her, and it felt wrong to steal that experience from those that actually cared... 

He looked back up just in time to see Grace get up out of her chair rather suddenly, and she met his confused gaze with a smile he couldn’t really read. 

“Just realized I have somewhere I need to be,” she explained quickly, which was surprising enough before she leaned over to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “See you later, yeah? Thanks for the coffee...” 

And with that she was off, and Davis was left blinking owlishly at the strange and sudden departure. “Yeah.. see you then…” he echoed amusedly to no one, spinning around in his seat as though watching her leave might give him any answers. 

Of course, it wasn’t Grace his eyes immediately gravitated towards, but rather Hazel, and Davis found his feet quickly following suit. “Hey,” he greeted, hand unconsciously coming out to hover just inches above her now protruding belly as he placed a kiss of his own on her cheek in his now customary greeting. (It’d been awkward at first, but he’d willfully pushed himself through it...) “I hope you’re not here for the coffee,” he teased.

[davis-sampson]

Heartbeats 

@hazelboyd

Hazel had never officially rescinded her request for space, but Davis assumed that in the wake of their last meeting, it was really more implied than anything. And when he’d texted her that night to thank her once again, and she’d responded right away, he knew his assumption had been correct. Ever since then, it had sort of become their unofficial way of communicating: late night texts, send back and forth - always about the baby, or the pregnancy, or the general anxieties of parenthood, never ever about anything deeper. 

It felt so impersonal - just letters on a screen - and it drove Davis slightly crazy, but he knew better than to push. He knew he’d scared Hazel, both with his confession and his passionate response to her news that she was keeping the baby, and while he wanted nothing more than to just talk about it and get it all cleared out, he knew that Hazel needed time. Hazel always needed time... 

So when she sent him a text inviting him to come to her first doctor’s appointment, he was surprised, but accepted right away. He’d meant it when he said he was all in, that he’d be there for everything, and the chance to hear his child’s heartbeat for the first time was definitely not something he could possibly pass up... 

“Hey,” he smiled, as he approached Hazel outside the doctor’s office. He struggled for one awkward moment, trying to decide what kind of greeting was appropriate for this type of situation, before finally deciding fuck it, and placing a quick kiss on her cheek. “How are you feeling?” 

[davis-sampson]

Fairytale of New York || Flashback

Christmas had always been Davis’ favorite time of year. The expectations of football season were lifted from his shoulders and his parents were so fixated on appearing like the perfect family that for a second Davis could almost convince himself that they were – that the extra time they spent together was genuine and real, and not just a ploy for photo ops for the Annual Sampson Newsletter. 

And Lanford always looked so beautiful in the snow… Not that he’d ever say that out loud. The last time he’d been caught staring wistfully out at it, Leighann had chucked a snowball at his head and the moment of peaceful beauty immediately erupted into an epic snowball fight, with Sam traitorously teaming up against him because apparently he ‘just had a head perfect for throwing stuff at, you loser.’ 

But here? Right now? He could be as wistful as he wanted, without fear frozen projectiles. Because Hazel was the type to never judge, to just see him for exactly who he was – wistful and sappy and all… 

They were walking back from their latest trip to the boulder. The fields in the fall had been beautiful, but Davis couldn’t help but think he preferred the winter even more. Pristine, sparkling white laid out in sheets before them, and even bundled up in their winter coats and scarves and hats, the cold seeped into their bones so quickly that they always had to huddle together for warmth. So maybe that was the cause for his preference more than the view, but sue him. He was desperate for any excuse just to touch her. 

It had been a full month since he’d called things off with Ashley for good, and still he hadn’t found the courage to tell Hazel how he felt. He was scared, he guessed, because she’d become so important to him in such a short amount of time, and he didn’t want to lose her by pushing. Every moment they spent together was so special to him, and he didn’t want her to think that it was all just some ploy to get into her pants. 

(Not that he didn’t want to get into her pants, because he did - like, so much that it had become an at least one cold shower a day type situation... He was still seventeen and male, after all.)

But it was more than that. He’d never felt about anyone the way he felt about her. He loved her, he was fairly certain, and it terrified him just as much as it thrilled him. Because a girl like Hazel could have anyone she wanted, and for a guy who’d spent his whole life up until her living in his ego, he suddenly wasn’t sure he measured up. 

Still, they walked so close together down the street that their shoulders touched, and Davis didn’t even care that he felt like a total girl that it sent his heart fluttering. “So,” he smiled, looking over at her, purposefully bumping her shoulder lightly with his own. “You excited for Christmas?” 

@hazelboyd

[davis-sampson]

Start A Riot || Flashback

Davis was accustomed to the late night phone calls; if he couldn’t sleep, or if she was up pulling her hair out stressing over the latest ridiculous essay Mr. Powell had assigned, they’d just call each other up and stay on the phone for hours. They didn’t even have to talk - just knowing that the other was on the line was enough. They were partners; it was just what they did. And they were lucky, because they were almost always on the same wavelength, like they could just tell the call was coming before the other had even picked up the phone. 

So Davis wasn’t surprised in the least when Hazel’s caller ID came up on his phone, and he smiled goofily despite himself as he did every time he thought of her. He loved her; she was perfect. They were perfect, and it was more than Davis had ever hoped for himself. But what did surprise him was that when he answered with a cheery “hey babe,” the only thing he could hear on the other line was a loud, unconsolable sob. 

“Hazel?” he tried again, dread flooding his veins like ice. “Haze, baby, what’s wrong?” Another sob came down the line. And dread turned to absolute terror. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew that Hazel was in pain or in trouble or something, and he had to be there for her. Fuck curfews, fuck what their parents would think; he was already out of bed, throwing on a pair of jeans, and running down the stairs. “I’ll be there soon, okay? I’ll just - fuck - I’ll be there soon...” 

Davis probably broke every traffic law known to man driving to Hazel’s house, but still it felt like the longest drive of his life. His fingers tapped impatiently at the wheel, his foot like lead on the pedal, but all he could think about was that Hazel needed him and he didn’t even know why. All he knew was that he’d never heard her sound so broken before, and it scared him to think about what might have caused it. 

He sprinted from his car to the small porch of her family’s house, and the large boulder sat beside it which provided the perfect leverage to hoist himself into her second story window. He’d completed the maneuver on more occasions that he or Hazel would ever be likely to cop to, but the desperation and urgency he felt made him clumsy, and he fumbled into her room with less grace than usual. His tumble might have woken the whole house, but he didn’t care. Hazel needed him.... 

@hazelboyd

[davis-sampson]

Dirty Little Wicked Games || Flashback

The first time he saw her, he swears to God he thought something cheesy like she was an angel or something. He was standing by his locker in the hallway, Cam was telling some stupid fucking story that was apparently hilarious at the time, and a breeze blew past as the doors opened and there she was, golden hair illuminated by the sun rays and everything... So yeah: Angel. He stood by his previous statement, no matter how fucking stupid it sounded. 

He’d spent the next few days doing recon - subtly, of course, because Ashley would just love to get her claws into him about some fucking North End girl. He could hear her now: ‘Stick it in her and get it over with, Douchebag. You know you’re always coming back to me.’ And then they’d get back together long enough to go at it behind the bleachers during lunch hour before breaking up again. And like, thanks but no thanks, Ash... He didn’t have time for her bullshit. 

And here’s what he had figured out: Her name was Hazel Boyd. She moved here from the city because her dad lost her job. She had three younger brothers. And, worst of all, she was wholly unimpressed by everything he did. This was his kingdom, and it was like she didn’t even notice. She walked by the field every day during practice on the way home, and every time, Davis would pull some impressive move: score a touchdown, tackle that nerdy second stringer (not as impressive, but he liked the first string too much...) And every time, she’d be unimpressed. Sometimes, she didn’t even bother to look up. It was infuriating. 

So he decided to take matters into his own hands. Sure, he was meant to be practicing, but as she walked by, he ditched it all - including the aforementioned second stringer he was meant to be spotting - to run to her side. “Hey!” he called out to her. “Hey, you’re Hazel, right? I’m Davis...” He threw her his signature charming smile for good measure. 

@hazelboyd