#thecaptaincurfew

[classicallyclare]

Clare’s cooking style had been dwindled down to one word as of late: slow. Given the size of her stomach, there wasn’t an alternative when it came to retrieving pans from the oven or moving from one spot in the kitchen to another. Still, she didn’t let the delay stop her from it, especially when given the opportunity to have Eli over for dinner. She’d invited him both because she was sick of him relying on fast food chains for nourishment, and because truly, any excuse was a good one to see him. Clare had decided earlier in the day that she was going to make something Italian. Her own appetite was still ridiculously present and she figured Eli wouldn’t mind piling in multiple helpings himself. Peering around for the collander, Clare pouted when she realized the one she wanted was on top of the cabinet; just high enough that she couldn’t tip herself up because of her belly. “Eli,” she called, sighing to herself before she spoke. “I need that and of course, I can’t grab it myself.”

[classicallyclare]

Is the concept of not taking it upon yourself to touch a pregnant woman’s stomach completely lost on people? I shouldn’t have to snap at anyone while grocery shopping for attempting to do it. Today has just been...unbearably frustrating. My ankles are swollen and my back is aching. I feel like I’m at the ugliest and fattest I’ve ever been. As much as I love knowing my little one is coming soon, the process of him getting here is draining.

[katsmat]

I’m sure you’re used to people letting you get away with anything since they’re intimidated by you, but I’m not a coward so I have no problem telling you that I usually sit here. There’s dozens of other chairs. Move.

[classicallyclare]

Clare: You could very well be busy tonight, and if you are don't rush to text me back! But I just had a quick question.

[mfitzgeralds]

After leaving the school through the backdoor, Fitz made his way out to the parking lot. He was shocked that he’d even made it through the entire day, usually opting to leave before third period. He was ready to head over to his own car until he spotted Eli’s -- a hearse that was truthfully too large and too obnoxious to be sitting in any parking lot. Fitz had even sat in it a few times, but the last memory of when he had left a sour taste in his mouth. It only took one repressed thought for Fitz to get angry. He dug his keys out from his pocket and approached the vehicle, dragging it methodically across the side of it. He traced an F, then an A, and finally a G before pulling his key away, surveying his work a few seconds later. It fit Eli like a glove, as far as he was concerned.

[classicallyclare]

Clare: [10:07 PM] I know it’s really late, and this is probably going to sound ridiculous but I keep hearing really strange noises outside the house. I don’t even want to leave my room. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I had anyone else I could call, but could you come by?

When Clare hit send, she felt extremely guilty for even asking this of Eli. If she had a normal life, with a husband at home and right there to keep her safe, then she never would have been asking Eli to check the perimeter of the house. There were bumps in the night that had nothing to do with an intruder. Clare’s mom had often called it “the house settling,” but Clare was always reluctant to blame noises solely on that. It hadn’t been the best day for her, and it looked like she wasn’t about to get any rest now either. With her luck Eli would already be asleep, but she hoped that he might be awake enough to reply to her. Even if he couldn’t come to the house, just texting him might be enough to talk her down from being anxious. She stayed curled up in her bed and waited for Eli to text back, wishing she had a bat or something nearby in case she ended up needing it.

[classicallyclare]

text ~ eli

Clare: Hi! It's Clare, from the store. I really hope it isn't weird, texting you like this. I mean, you /gave/ me your number, and I suppose that means you wanted me to. Befriending people at stores is new territory, you'll have to forgive me.

[classicallyclare]

Clare’s day had been filled to the brim with errands. Between grocery shopping, picking up the baby blankets she’d been eyeing online the night before, and now picking out a crib, she felt as if there wasn’t a moment to stand still and breathe. Normally, she thrived on being busy. But these days Clare had to look out not only for her own well-being, but for her unborn baby’s. For someone as driven as she happened to be, slowing down felt nearly impossible. Strolling the aisles, she glanced from product to product, attempting to discern which crib would be the safest. Clare spotted one that looked promising, attempting to turn it a bit so she could see the side of the box. But once she had it in her grasp, she realized just how hefty it was. Within seconds, she was struggling to keep her hold on the boxed crib, inwardly cringing at her own predicament. This was the kind of day she was having--and this situation was just the cherry on top.