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He’d been sipping at the bottom of his milkshake for a while now, making loud, slurping noises that might have been drawing attention to himself from the other patrons of the diner, but it wasn’t like he noticed, eyes unfocused and blankly kept on the space on the table before him. For a few moments, he’d forgotten he was with someone, completely detached from his surroundings. They said this would happen, bouts of staring into spaces or mindlessly doing things that would render him unresponsive to anything else. He’d completely sipped the contents of his drink dry, though the straw was still bitten in between his teeth, hand still holding the glass, eyes fixed on the decorative linings on the table. He blinked, after a few more moments, and lifted his eyes up to look at Libby.

“Sorry, what was the question?”

--- @libby-rigby

#post; closed #closed; libby-rigby #libby-rigby

texts;; libby

Chase: hey Libs! You want to come over to my brother's place? We can eat junk food and watch some really bad horror movies.

Chase: Or play some games, whatever you want. :)

#phone #text #libby-rigby

Terrible Horror Movie Time || Libby&Chase

As the days went on, Chase was soon losing his mind with boredom. Granted he could always read books and let the time pass. But the added factor of having a broken leg and not being able to do a lot was making him lose his mind. In his free time, he was a quiet book worm. He didn’t like to be forced as that quiet book worm do to restraints. That’s what was really having a toll on him. So on went the texts and bugging people for food and hang outs. Libby was one of his friends that seemed to enjoy his company and a bad movie. Though Chase was all for psychological thrillers and good movies, he enjoyed the makings of what bad movies were. So he decided to choose one of those poorly made horror movies to keep Libby at ease as he waited for the woman to get to his place. Once he heard someone come in, he turned his body from where he laid on the couch and smiled. “Hey Libs!” he said with glee. “Come sit. I got it set up for us.” Knowing that she brought all the food to enjoy this terrible movie. @libby-rigby

#para #p4 #libby-rigby

The large windows in the front of Pierre’s newest acquired piece of property acted as perfect portraits to frame the soft haze of that rainy, midsummer day. He could not think of better weather for the opening of his new storefront. Whatever this would become, he had always found his bookshops the most comfortable of small universes. Sturdy dark oak book cases lined two walls, with upright spines displaying mostly recognizable tales, canon works, with some unique books in German and French. In the center of the room sat an expensive brown leather sofa, a love seat to the side, with a stout apothecary table just in front to hold an expensive china tea set and a thick brown binder full of authentication receipts. Just beyond that were were two more brown tables full of Pierre’s favorite antiques, and finally, his vintage 1890s desk, full of papers, books, and pens. Pierre sat behind the desk, writing to his London office to send back his favorite portrait of the young boy. Behind him, in the back room, sat a modestly sized gallery of framed works. His own paradise. The golden bell above the heavy wood door chimed for Pierre’s attention. He peered up from his desk. “Welcome to Attaway’s, anything I can help you to find?”

#[DONT worry about matching length ahhhh #I went a bit crazy describing the store]#libby-rigby #closed starter

@libby-rigby

He felt a little bit bad that he hadn’t thought to call Libby until after the twins were already delivered, but Hazel had rightfully occupied all his attention throughout the labor. (She’d been so magnificent - a real life Wonder Woman - and Davis didn’t think it was possible to be more proud of her than he was in that moment.) But as soon as they were assured the babies were healthy, and Hazel had nursed them and then set about getting rest for herself, Libby had been the first call he made.

“Hey Libs, I think you’re gonna want to get down to the hospital. There’s a few new human beings that would like to meet you...”

#libby-rigby #c: libby #//feel free to time jump to her actually coming to the hospital!

Usually the trinkets Davis brought Libby were deliberately half-assed - nearly useless, the kind of impulse buys he didn’t even think about before getting them: a pair of ridiculous socks, a map of Portugal, whatever DVD was at the top of $5 bin. But this one he’d planned out, scoured store after store until he found just the right one: a baby onesie with the words ‘I love my aunt’ emblazoned across the front. It was perfect, and he was almost as excited about telling Libby as he was about just being a father period.

“I have something for you,” he announced, handing over small, neat box that held the onesie inside.

@libby-rigby

#libby-rigby #c: libby

Libby would always be his first act of rebellion. Son of an uncaring police chief secretly takes poor little girl with a dead mother under his wing. To this day, he didn’t know what compelled him to do it. He’d felt plenty guilty about plenty of things in his youth, but nothing had ever really stopped him until Hazel. He thought that maybe it was the rebellion - righting his father’s wrong, doing something he would expressly disapprove of. He supposed the reasons didn’t really matter now; he’d done it.

He liked spending time with Libby because it was the one good act (as few as they always seemed to him) he’d ever done that didn’t have Hazel’s touch on it. It wasn’t motivated by her goodness, by the faith she put in him, by his need to redeem himself of what he’d done to her. It had all been purely self-motivated. Maybe that was why he kept in touch with her, even after all the others had fallen away - sending presents at Christmas and her birthday, calling every few months to make sure she was getting on. It was a reminder that he himself could be good - or at least had been, once upon a time.

He always made a point not to show up empty handed at her door - a habit started when he was still just 16 and didn’t realize 12 was nothing like 6 and had showed up with a teddy bear. Ever since, it had turned into something of a joke, with each visit bringing some ridiculous little knick-knack. Now, the string of a ‘sorry for your loss’ balloon was wrapped around hand; the irony of it in his own life bolstering his numbness in some contrary way that gave him faith he could get through this encounter in a seemingly normal fashion. Though Hazel touched everything, she hadn’t touched Libby yet. He would do everything he could to keep it that way.

With a final deep breath to affix his standard smile to his face, he knocked at the door and waited.