#yusun

[alittledaylight]

Can you guess who these cuties are??

I was so excited to share this! Idek why! 😂 But they are soooooo cute!! My gorgeous babies! 😄 They didn’t actually know each other as toddlers but they would have been so precious together.

I was tagged in something about 250 years ago and it stuck in my mind to do something like this so here you go...not the tag but my five lovely friends as toddlers and some very cute poses by @a-luckyday. Hope you love them as much as I do! 😊😍

[early-grape]

new genre of lesbian: knotted shirt 

[parakisssims]

Yusun.

[alittledaylight]

The five as kids.

Andrew’s parents owned a holiday home in Windenburg. Once or twice a year all of the kids were invited to holiday with his family for a few days. Some of their best and most favourite memories were on these trips. 

In summer they would swim a lot but in autumn they would play in the leaves, go outside at night and play spotlight or murder in the dark, they enjoyed card and board games, riding their bikes into town and getting junk food from the corner shop. Handball and stuck in the mud were still favourites. They laughed so hard and dreamed so big. They never wanted those days to end.

(Poses by @akindred)

[alittledaylight]

He had the chance to do a little research the very next day. Saturdays meant they were given time for recreation in rotations. He opted for the library to start with.

There were a large number of articles mentioning Tony Maraceti. The very first was a news story on his death. Cohen wasn’t surprised. He figured he would be dead or missing.

His body was found in his apartment. Shot through the head. Gang related. No leads. Limited information. The usual.

Cohen looked for the date. May. He calculated, thinking, Farah went missing the first time, just after that date.

He continued reading. It listed a number of things Tony was suspected for. Money laundering, drug dealing, weapons. Also the usual. He was not, however, named as associated with any gang or clan. That was not usual. Who did he work for? He couldn’t have been doing any of those things by himself.

Cohen moved on to the next article unrelated to Tony's death. It was from a social page. A glittering gala event in the city for some charity. The accompanying picture caught his eye. 

A photo of Tony Maraceti, with Blueman, and a couple of other men Cohen didn’t know. On Blueman’s arm was Farah! They were all laughing and smiling as though they shared a common joke. What was interesting to him was the look being exchanged between Tony and Farah. They were separated by a number of people but the sexual tension was undeniable. The photo was taken in February of the same year Tony was killed.

Well, it looked like he was a definite contender in the ‘who is Kallum’s father’ contest. Cohen took a closer look at Tony. Dark wavy hair, he thought his eyes might have been hazel or a muddy blue at best.

Kallum looked so much like his mum it was hard to tell who his father might have been.

Suddenly, Cohen sat up. Now that was interesting. Standing in the darkened background directly behind Blueman were the unmistakable features of Worm! What was he doing there?

Cohen remembered Worm’s interest in finding Farah, breaking into the apartment and scaring the crap out of Yusun. He looked at the picture again. He was onto something. He could feel it but he had no idea what.

Did Blueman see what was between Farah and Tony and hire someone to kill him? Is that why Farah ran? He leaned forward and tapped the screen where Worm’s head was.

“And what do you have to do with all of this you slimy little Worm?” Cohen spoke under his breath.

Read the chapter: Digging Deeper

[alittledaylight]

Cohen glanced at the Bible that lay on his bed. He doubted many of the men read theirs but he did. It reminded him of his graceful Catholic mother. He thought of her voice, sweet and soft. Her hair, dark and shining and eyes like a stormy sea. She had been beautiful and delicate, then despairing and ruined. Her bible a source of comfort and strength in her troubled life. Cohen found some sort of peace in the stories he remembered her reading to him but there was more that made him uncomfortable.

There was too much time for thinking in this dank hell hole and he did his best to shift his mind to more pleasant thoughts and memories. He would lie in bed at night imagining Yusun beside him. Her black hair soft on his shoulder, all spice and everything nice. He wondered where she was and what she was doing, and who she was doing it with. He hoped she was happy and wasn’t cursing him too much for disappearing without a trace. He could ring or write but he thought that maybe she was better off not knowing. She never wanted to know much about his life anyway.

And he thought of Kallum. He missed the boy the most. He ached when he thought of all that he was missing. Kids grew up so fast and Kallum would be shooting through his milestones. Cohen had wanted to be there more than anything else. To watch his possible son grow and learn. Now he would miss so much.

There were the nightmares too, of course. He would wake shaking in the dark on the hard bed. Visions of his brother clear in a way he could never see in his waking hours. And his father, the man who had taken his youth and smeared his life with the blood of those most precious to him. The man his Bible made him feel the most uncomfortable about. The man he would never forgive.

Read the chapter: Detour

[alittledaylight]

He moved to the bed, wondering what he would be doing when he got out of here. He had never worked a proper job and had no idea if he could even get one. He had started out ‘working’ for his father. He was only a boy then, drifting on a road that would land him in places like this, a few times now. But he didn’t want it anymore. He had a son now. Well, possibly had a son and he wanted to live differently. Granted, he should have thought of it before but in all fairness he was incarcerated for a job he had done a few years ago so, it could be discounted.

He sat up, still unable to relax. His mind working. He wondered what had happened to Farah’s flat. Was it sitting there empty? Seemed a bit of a waste. Then he thought about Farah. Where are you, I wonder? (For the millionth time). 

He allowed his mind to drift back to the last time he had seen her. It must have been about September, almost 2 years ago now. She was fairly heavily pregnant, which had been the first shock. The second had been her appearance. She had been pale and gaunt for a pregnant woman. Dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. Her hair was dank and lifeless. He couldn’t believe it was the same woman he had known for many years.

Their conversation had been hurried and unusual. He had wondered where she had been. She had been gone for months. Was she alright? She never answered that. She had seemed flustered and scared, coming in the middle of the night, wearing her signature black. She wouldn’t give straight answers, only that she was leaving again and needed some stuff. He could stay for as long as he wanted. Don’t look for her. He would never find her. It was over so fast and she was gone again. It was only later that he began to think about her pregnant belly and remembered a night they had shared. That night in February. He had calculated the time and knew he was a definite candidate to be the baby’s father.

Cohen thought about that now. Farah may have ‘belonged’ to Blueman but she was never one for following rules. There were others too, of course. Cohen should have been dead now or at least seriously maimed. That was how Blueman dealt with those who messed with his woman. Farah thought it was a huge joke. Your my flatmate, you hardly count! She had laughed. 

They hadn’t been a regular thing. It had happened on three occasions. That was all. Twice after drinking and the third... She was upset, he remembered, and crying. They hadn’t been drinking. It was emotional, and heated. She was a passionate lover. She poured all of her feelings into it and they were carried away.

He paced the cell again. There was someone else too. Someone she had been seeing on the sly. Her feelings were caught up in this one. She had been talking about him. Some fight they had. Cohen stopped, straining himself to think. Some fight. He squeezed his eyes shut. Feeling a fire in his gut. She was upset; this guy and Blueman; some job. He couldn’t remember now. He thought back to the guy. She had told him his name and Cohen had heard of him. Tony something.

He paced. Like a car. Maserati. Pacing. Maraceti!

That was it! Tony Maraceti! Cohen wondered what happened to him. And why he hadn’t thought of this before. Was there some connection to him and Farah disappearing? It was so long ago and none of it seemed connected at the time.

He would look up Tony Maraceti next time he was in the library. They were allowed limited, supervised access to the computers. He didn’t think this would be a problem. And it would give him something to do.

[alittledaylight]

Cohen stopped his pacing and leant against the wall.

Dark brown eyes, chubby cheeks and black curls. Sometimes the thoughts caught him unaware. Kallum was walking when he last saw him. He was probably running around now, keeping Yusun on her toes.

Yusun.

He hadn't expected it. This ache. She had come out of nowhere. Farah’s sister. A strong, independent woman full of grief over losing the love of her life.

He knew this boy would find a place in his heart but he never expected the sister. Something about the way her eyes drifted over his lips and his chest. The defiant look she gave in those first weeks at the things he told her or the way he spoke. It challenged him. He wanted to break down her walls and then to his surprise he did. He never expected her to respond in the way she had and he never thought he would care like he did now.

He closed his eyes. It pissed him off, these feelings. He was pissed at himself. Not because he had them himself but because he had been so careless with her. So callous. Why did he do things like that? She wasn't the first woman he had found a challenge he needed to conquer but she was the first to make it matter to him. He didn't know what she felt but he hoped it wasn't this.

He shifted his feet. He needed a drink and her body curled up against him. And to bury his face in little Kallum’s neck and blow raspberries on his cheek. He stopped there, breathed deeply and looked up at the ceiling. Emptying his mind.

He thought about the motorbike he would buy when he got out of here. Speeding along beside the ocean somewhere, wind in his hair, because he would have hair then, not a care in the world, destination: wherever.

It was this thought that kept him going. Kept him counting down the days, staying out of trouble, head down, well behaved prisoner. Just the way they liked it. He would get parole when his time came and get out of this miserable place.