A/N: Happy Fire Country Friday! It’s just me feeding the ghost town of a tag that was inspired by that last episode with a side of drama or triggers—i try my best to make spring writings more fluff based which you will get somewhere here. I want to say this takes place a year or two after this current season idk whatever makes sense lol. I know timelines are kinda confusing for this show so feel how you feel!
WARNINGS: strained parent and child relationship, established relationships, infidelity of other characters, mentions of abuse to minors, alluding to s*ic**e, PTSD, blood, lots of descriptions that I should be employed as a screenwriter for the show with the amount of detail I give but we can just pretend, also I’m assuming that Bode and Riley were at least two to three years apart whereas him and Jake are the same age? I think that’s about it enough!
PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 9. Our first dinner party & “god you’re bleeding! how the hell did you do that?” “i was trying to cut the tomatoes!”
⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀
“God you’re bleeding! How the hell did you do that?” Bode’s voice booms off the “almost oyster,” kitchen walls, making you zone back in to the fact that your middle knuckle and tip of your thumb happened to be oozing red all over the makeshift counter and cutting board.
He’s scrambling around the kitchen, snatching a rag from underneath the sink to wrap around your two fingers awkwardly. Applying pressure, which you hiss at, you meet Bode’s concerned blue-green eyes to see that he’s waiting for an answer.
You sigh, “I was trying to cut the tomatoes!”
Bode keeps his hands securely over yours and barely glances at the work you started on along with your phone that keeps silently lighting up. He blinks his attention back to you, sensing that you were disconnecting and was not entirely sure why. It was your idea to have your first dinner party after he moved in with you at the high rise out in Hillford, which was thirty minutes west of Edgewater.
“I see that,” he starts, “you don’t even like tomatoes, so I’m not sure why that’s on the menu for tonight?”
Closing your eyes for a moment you lift your shoulders nonchantly, “your mom loves a good Mediterranean salad, so I thought why not give it a go?”
Bode snorts, “my mom wouldn’t know the difference if it was store bought.”
His mom was a decent cook but she hardly had the patience to keep up with it. Majority of the time Bode’s dad was the one to throw down thanks to his own mother and grandmother forcing him to learn. Sharon loved to eat and sample so she wouldn’t be too judgmental…unless she ended up with food poisoning then you’d never hear the end of it!
“Vince would depending on what it is.” You peer at him underneath your eyelashes while Bode breathed out a laugh, figuring that you were most likely right. Mr. Leone may seem like a go with the flow kind of guy but one thing about the Leone’s? They loved to eat and if the food wasn’t cutting it then some words would be said.
Bode hoped the idea of his parents being here tonight didn’t make you nervous. It wasn’t your first time having a meal with them and one thing Bode knew about his parents is that they rarely held back. They liked you and they wanted to see him rebuild his life after being released. They were just happy that Bode was finally able to do that but after that text you just received…you weren’t so sure if that would remain true.
Bode gently lifts the rag from your fingers, “the bleeding from your thumb seems to be slowing down but that knuckle might need some stitches.” He announces before raising your hand back above your heart.
Feeling a wave of frustration fly over your being once more, made you want to lay face first on the kitchen floor—if it was sanitary. Hey you kept a clean house, otherwise you wouldn’t be having any family over! You were a bit of germaphobe and tried to ignore the itch of your brain to get to cleaning the mess you left on the wooden table turned island, that you got from a antique store two years ago.
“Hey,” Bode grips you even tighter, prepared to handle the deadweight if you decided to just drop to the floor, “what’s wrong?”
This was more than just you losing blood.
Opening your eyes you move your body around to slump against Bode, who didn’t hesitate to rest his cheek against the back of your head, “Sharon invited my mom and Manny, which is okay, I guess! Then my mom invited Gabriela! Which automatically makes what’s his face, the fiancé, her plus one while also extending it to Eve who invited Jake.”
The mumbling from you was a bit difficult for Bode to grasp but he listened intently anyways to get the gist of it all. There were many things wrong with this and he was tempted to call his mother up right now—despite knowing she had no ill intentions. Sharon seemed to get a kick out of your mom (which only meant trouble) who was casually dating Manny and you already knew your mother was solely the one to drag Gabriela into this. You’ve known the Perez’ since what felt like forever, way back in San Diego where you and Gabriela both attended school and actually became friends due to being in the same friend groups. You both tried out for the swim team, Gabriela made it and you excelled better at gymnastics.
She had the dream of being in the Olympics while you were being shot up with steroids from your coach to be the next star of the team. There was Lilavati Sharma who was the face of the team and carried herself with such grace despite the pressure to always be the best. She was sweet with all the girls and guys on the team and was genuinely likeable. The coach favored her just a little too much to the point she was here and then in the next she wasn’t.
Her father pulled her away from the team and gave the coach a nice shiner to the face that took weeks to heal. That only made the coach train you harder until you broke your collar bone, becoming the biggest disappointment until the truth of your coach came to light after the unexpected death of Lilavati.
That’s when you learned, maybe second best wasn’t so bad after all but that didn’t mean your trauma needed to be diminished as well. You hurt for Lilavati more than you did for yourself and it took years for you to understand why that was.
The universe seemed to have it written in stone that you and Gabriela were meant to be in each other’s lives. Yes you were older now compared to high school but it was safe to say that the both of you have fallen out long before. There always seemd to be some sort of connect with your mother and Manny. They were both once married and Manny’s been raising Gabriela all on his own for as long as you could remember. You recalled the conversations Gabriela would have about the gap she had in her life because of her mother’s absence and how lucky you were to have your parents.
Well…your mother’s been cheating on your father since you were a kid and basically bullied you not to tell your father about it once you were a bit older. Although he’s always known, he hated that she put you in that position after realizing that you’ve known. By the time leaving for college came around, your dad was moving from San Diego to Northern California far out to Edgewater; after serving your mother divorce papers who gave him such a hard time on signing them. She even followed him all the way out there after putting the house up for sale a month before your graduation.
Going back and forth to court was a common thing between them along with a restraining order being filed and lengthy phone calls from your mouthy mother filled your head while studying for finals. So yes your upbringing was as peachy as everyone thought.
Bringing it back to present time, your father was remarried and seemed to be thriving with his new aeronautical engineer of a husband, that you had to cat-sit every time they left the country to explore the world. Your father’s always been open about his sexuality and made you comfortable (considering he was a psychologist) if you ever questioned anything of your own personal experiences. You were one of the rare cases where you always had crushes and flirted once it felt like those crushes also showed interest but…it never amounted out into much.
You never had a significant other until you reached college. Let’s just say, you didn’t marry your college sweetheart. That wasn’t your story. The idea of love that you had wasn’t the brightest although it’s something you always wanted to have, it was just hard to truly receive it. And here you were with a man that always fought through so much in life that also wanted to give love and be loved in return.
“So the gang is all coming basically?” Bode used one hand to gently rub your back, “we could just cancel. It was supposed to just be with my parents…although I don’t mind Manny and your mom tagging along but…inviting everyone else to our place without talking to us about it…is crossing boundaries. How’d you find out?”
It still felt odd for Bode to call this waterfront townhouse his as well but you constantly reassured him that he was open to doing anything that made him feel like the home was his too. For one contributing to the HOA fees was a good start (after fighting a lengthy battle with the court to get EMT training and finally getting a spot on CalFire as stable income was a long time coming). Pre-Prison Bode had jobs before—some that he’s walked out on—but being with CalFire gave him purpose with a smidge of financial freedom. He was able to spend money on things that mattered like annoying adult stuff, a creepy ornamental two piece banana sculpture that he installed on the wall of the breakfast room (a small separate area from the dining room), and you.
“Mom texted.” You huffed, “and I’m trying to get better at not blowing up on her but when she does things like this? It makes it so hard.”
It took a lot for you to stand up to your mother since you tended to hold everything in. Over the years it’s been a build up and she’s apologized various of times but it started to fall on empty ears when she continued to repeat her same patterns.
Bode hated that your mother caused you such anxiety. He’s cupping your face now, gently placing his forehead against yours, “what do you want to do? I’ll call mom and yours up right now if it’s too much? We can have dinner ourselves, just us two and see if there’s any new streams on that movie you’ve been telling me about.”
You send him a small smile, cherishing that, “the kebabs are already done along with half of the other food. We can’t eat all of this ourselves.”
Bode peeks over at the covered food on the rest of the counters then back to you with a smirk of a smile, “want to bet?”
“Bode!”
“What? I can eat and I’ve been dying to try a kebab since you slapped my hand with a Spatula an hour ago.” He playfully glares at you, “I needed a snack.”
“There’s always crackers.”
Bode furrows his brows, “…I thought you loved me but I think you’re trying to starve me. What is this? Three rock?”
You laughed, “well at least one of us has an appetite and I just want to get through this night and enjoy the company of what I thought would just be with Sharon and Vince.”
Bode nods his head, “we still have time if you change your mind so, I’ll give you until after I’ve cleaned you up.”
“I love that you already know that I want you to do my stitches.”
Bode slides an arm across your hips to guide you out of the kitchen, “of course I know my baby. You nearly collapse every time you see prices in the grocery store when we’re out so I can only imagine what the bill from urgent care would look like. Lucky for you, you have a certified first responder as a boyfriend.”
He’s careful with you as he guides you up the narrow creaky stairs to the second floor to the main bathroom and you’re reminded this is the love you deserve.
You’re seated on the toilet while Bode is making a mess—like he commonly does—searching for what he needs. His hands are large and quick as they work the needle through the thread before setting it aside. He turns back to you, moving your hands from the pressure you’re applying against the rag, before motioning for you to keep it on the knuckle while he cleans, applies antibiotics and bandages your thumb first.
Bode kisses your thumb over the bandage, “how are we doing? Feeling faint? Do you need water? I probably should have asked before we came up here.”
“I’m fine.” You smile softly at him as he grabs a stool to sit down on as it’ll take him longer to work on your knuckle, “thanks for checking.”
He hums in response, “want to talk about work as a distraction?”
Blood didnt really bother you but you did cringe at the thought of needles. You can go ahead and write down PTSD note takers! You were an application security specialist, yes a true nerd, and also damn good at your stressful but fulfilling job but it was the weekend so that was a negative.
You redirect the conversation, “I’d like to draw you your next tattoo.”
Did you have artistic abilities like Bode? Let’s just say you were more of a data person while also being pretty athletic—although gymnastics was somewhat history you still found yourself stretching and working out to be crucial to your health routine—you had your own taste.
“Yeah?” Bode asks as he gets to work, “are you telling me you don’t like the two I already have?”
You shake your head, “sure I do. They have their own significant stories, which I’d never change and I have ideas if that artist brain of yours craves for more ink.”
“Appreciate that…so what’s on your mind?”
You deeply inhale as you feel the needle piercing your skin but talk through it, “you’re surprisingly into some odd art and I’ve been looking at vintage Halloween art that my co-worker is obsessed with and thought, why not create a wizard frog with a pointy star hat, wand and everything?”
“A wizard frog?” There’s a teasing tone in Bode’s voice while he pictures it as he pulls tight before going back to your skin while you hold your breath, “Magic’s not really my thing especially since I told you about my dad having me watch that one weird movie with Anthony Hopkins. Riley on the other hand? Could sit up for hours watching that horror crap with my dad…although she always ended up in my room, stealing my covers while talking away as I tried to sleep. As her big brother I dealt with it if that meant keeping her nightmares away, although I regretted it in the morning.”
The both of you share a laugh at this.
What you knew of Riley was that her and Bode were sorta opposites. She had the kindest big round blue eyes, was friendly and open to having conversations with strangers whereas Bode was more reserved before he felt comfortable enough to approach. Apparently she was soft spoken yet determined, into the well-being of animals that she planned to be a vegetarian once she was older, liked magic tricks and horror movies but only if that meant she got more time to bond with Vince that is. She seemed to have a heart on her sleeve and probably would have been a veterinarian if she lived past sixteen.
“Just big brother duties.” You inhale air between your teeth, “and I think she would like my wizard frog idea.”
“Yeah…I can see you two plotting against me.” Bode smiles over at you before giving one last tug before snooping off the excess thread, “all set.”
Before he can even move to start cleaning up, you throw your arms across his shoulders and give him a squeeze. Bode pauses but buried his nose against your fuzzy cardigan before rubbing your back against your embrace once more.
“What’s this for?”
You say, “just because I love you and I’m happy to have you here with me, which I know I probably don’t say enough since words of affirmation is more your thing than mine but I stand by this. I look forward to many more days with you, good and challenging.”
Bode feels his body go warm at your words and pulls back to meet your eyes. “I can’t wait and I love you too, softie.”
You roll your eyes as he chuckles at you while you scratch at his facial hair.
“…You’ll think about the wizard frog?”
Bode sighs with a small smile on his lips, “If it makes you happy, love.”
“Cop out answer!” You flick his broad shoulder with your good hand.
“How?” Bode lifts his shoulders in confusion.
You crinkle your nose in annoyance, “You can’t ever say what I want to hear and make me think I’m always the winner, fight back.”
“Okay…I’ll remember that when I don’t want to watch the traitors uk with you.” Bode holds your stare while you gasp with a hand to your chest and then nod your head, mentally saying that was fair game.
Bode can already tell what you’re thinking, which makes him grin at you before leaning forward to cautiously peck your lips. You humph before slowly pushing yourself to get to your feet and steady yourself.
Bode’s hands are immediately on your hips as you balance yourself and you give him a nod in reassurance before leaning forward. You connect your lips again, his beard tickling your face as you breathe him in. He smells sweet like amber, fresh but calming like cypress, and warm sandalwood and you feel like you could just sink into him endlessly but manage to pull away.
“You sure you don’t want to cancel? We could do more of that and I wouldn’t mind.” Bode squeezes your hips with a lick of his own lips.
You pull from his grip, “that’s what Sunday is for, a day with no plans! Now let’s go, chop chop! We have a dinner to finish.”
And you’re out of the bathroom before Bode can even blink. He’s shaking his head at you and calls out, “fine. Don’t touch any more knives though!”
Once putting everything back where it belongs, he stares at his reflection in the mirror. He’s not entirely thrilled to have Jake here, since they were attempting to get back to where they once were but Bode wasn’t holding his breath since he felt like Jake was trying to live what could have been his when it came to Genevieve. It took time for him to accept what happened when they were teenagers meaning with Riley but since he’s been locked up? It felt like it was one thing after the next even in his freedom. Then there was Gabriela…which you had your own issue with although you tried to downplay it and there was a smidge of a history that Bode had with her that probably didn’t help…
He just hopes this dinner isn’t a true disaster for both of your sakes but at least he could have the task of throwing someone out…if it came to that of course.
That wasn’t what brought a smile to his face, it was the thought of hosting something that he could call his own with the person he wanted to spend countless days with.
Spring comes with a suffocating fragrance of newly cut grass and flowers in bloom. The winter carpet are long gone. The Sun’s rays bullying the white carpet to melt itself, now replaced by the small green grasses with colourful dots of flowers.
Butterflies and bees buzz around the fields, roaming in a dance unknown to the world. In a rhythm of their own, they sway tirelessly through miles for nectar. An incentive for them so more flowers can bloom till the summer heat mercilessly takes them away.
I hate spring. Everything takes on a colourful cheer. Everything’s painted in a light that is so bright its blinding.
Its suffocating, fake and everything I cannot stand. Maybe it’s only me. I love the scorching sun, the dampen monsoon, the awkward autumn air or the icy winters.
Sadly for the love of me, I cannot stand the mellow spring. Its the season of new beginnings, of hopes, of bloom. For me it is a season of endings. Its the Monday of the week - the end for me, where it is a beginning for the others.
Still sitting alone in my room surrounded by books its comfortable.
If I close all the windows, draw the curtains, turn on my desk light, no one can tell me what season it is right outside my window. The air in my room and the air outside don't mingle. Thus I, in my own cocoon am spared of the pollens and dusts that would others tickle and bind me in my bed for weeks.
Yes, I don't like spring because of the innumerable hardships that come along with it. For the butterflies they are incentives for me its an unnecessary nuisance.
In my little shelter, I can leisurely dream. Dream of you and how you would be here with me in my shelter. Spending this season in my arms for now the weather is comfortable to lay together and not be frozen by the cold nor be sweaty from the heat.
You like spring. It brings you freedom, You love walking the meadows - barefooted wearing a flowing dress, A straw hat adorning your head and your curls freely just soaking all the sun rays - free and floaty. Just like you...
Something I’m not, so shackled by the everything, I can never run alone in the fields, too paranoid of unknown things, that might trip me over. Everyday I dream of the coldness that was an old friend that left my hand so soon, now as the weather heats up so does my fever of wanting to be with you.
Maybe soon, this feverish temptations that keeps rising with each frozen bud that gets defrosted by the sun will burn me and I wont have to live with the consequences of my own actions.
As I lay on my bed, sprawled without a care, a sudden urge to look at the fields rises up like the waves on the beach. I stand up, finally opening the blinds (for the first time today).
The windows open with a creak and right there I could see the fields rolling over the landscape, only sloping into the horizon at the far end. There were only a few scattered clouds on the plain azure sky.
Pleasant, everything felt pleasant almost hushed. The air came rushing into my small sanctuary replacing all the little whispers of wishes that I had mumbled into the room. The inside and the outside are linked now mingling as one.
The window became a tunnel, I stepped closer to the scenery outside.
Ah! Yes there you were, right there in the fields. Tranquility seeped from your silhouette as you danced around in the long grasses. You don't look like you have your shoes on, I look a bit further and there they were near the big apple tree.
Twirling around you seem to be one with the butterflies that came fluttering by around you, as if you were a nymph of the valley.
Slowly after doing a full circle you sat done right on the grass, its probably soft, the mud not too hardened but not too mushy. There were many dandelions though still white, later they’ll fill the fields giving it a golden hue.
I sit down, gazing at you from afar, its nice. A sharp pang hits my chest but I ignore it for now, I'm used to it over the years. Yet, I look down where you now sat fiddling with daisies. You were making something by the looks of it. You're nimble fingers worked away at something. Probably something cute, you always have liked making small trinkets and decorations.
Time seems to stop for a moment, as if taking a breath after aeons of staying underwater. You look up from down the fields, and as if a deer caught in the headlights I sit there with my heart pounding loudly. It wasn't something new, this looking, yet I felt ashamed, caught in an act that was forbidden.
Still looking at me, you're eyes captivating me not to look away, you tore a dandelion from your vicinity. Without looking away you blew it in my direction.
The winds change. A gust of wind blows right in my face, it feels like I'm near the helipad when it takes off. The dandelions stray everywhere, yet one lone seedling floats over the valley, right into my room. As if directed in a movie, it lands on the diary that I kept to write everything down. The one that had words that haven't reached you yet, but I want them to.
I watch its path as if lands there, I look back and you are no longer there in the fields. My heart is still pounding ever so loudly, I'm afraid that even the apple tree can hear it.
Suddenly there is a knock on the door, with eyes wide open in apprehension I open it. There you were in person, a soft olive green dress with your hair open and tennis shoes. Your brown eyes sparkled more than ever like moonstones in starlight.
Stunned I just stand there, a few beats pass. You walk in bypassing me and jump on the unmade bed. It almost feels like I walked into your room and note the other way around. To be honest everything I have already has your name etched on it.
Your eyes dart over my room, you seem to be searching for something and finally they land on the lone dandelion that lay peacefully over the brown diary. You pick it up, silently you look over as if asking for permission.
I can only silently nod, for everything else seems to have frozen. The world holds its breath again. The sound of turning pages as your fingers glide over the pages that held some of the overflowing emotions that needed a container for the past years. Gently you turned them, your fingers seem to be soaking those feelings.
Silently I watch, with trepidation of the worst. I can almost feel the tears that are just waiting for the guillotine to drop for them to take over like a broken dam.
Minutes pass as you carefully look over the pages, your face never giving away your feelings. Yet, your eyes seem to glaze over. I cannot stand this anymore, I walk around. I close the door. Coming around to where you sat, I sat myself on the chair.
If the storm came at least I could close the windows and keep the storm inside now.
Though the storm never came.
The last page turns and you look at me. “All this? About Me?” You speak in a whisper. My throat felt dry, words shrivelled up on my tongue. I nod.
Your face morphs into something softer than before. Youre eyes not half moon presents but a small smile slips by. My heart still pounds away.
I walk over, the bed bounces a bit as I sit at the corner. Still not satisfied it seems, you pull me, as the mattress dips I fall by your side. Every inch of my side is touching you. Is this what they say that the sinner bursts into flames when an angel touches them?
You pull something from behind you, it was a daisy crown. I hadn’t noticed in my anxious state the small jewellery you had made. Its beautiful just like you.
You pull me down and place it on my head. Happy you smile brightly now, while I can only blush. You aren’t done it seems, taking another smaller piece of work, you ask for my hand.
It takes while for my brain to catch up to your gestures. Flustered I out my right hand out, you grasp it with your left hand and slowly out the ring with a single daffodil adorning the top.
The tears flow freely now as I look at my hands clasped in yours where you wear the same ring of daffodil.
Before I know it, you held me in your arms, so serene. The room now filled with a pleasant silence now.
Finally I could hold you in my arms knowing you are mine. We both know it now. I look at your eyes, the silence posing the question. You nod.
And I kissed you there in the room overlooking the dandelion filled fields.
