WONDER WOMAN.

thirty six. native. neurosurgeon. ❝ only t w e n t y minutes to ᦓꪶꫀꫀρ but you dream of some epiphany. just one single glimpse of ｒｅｌｉｅｆ to make some sense of what you've seen. ❞

[teagansmaron]

SPECIAL DELIVERY TO: @johndaltcn​

LOCATION: Bed and Breakfast

DATE & TIME: November 13th at 8pm.  

That was my mother. She’s in town.

For someone who deals with a form of nerves, literally, the circumstance of this situation has her shaken her up. The auburn-haired woman has met her past boyfriend’s parents before. While these similar emotions consumed her, it’s different with John. They have a history of almosts, gentle nose touches, and hitch breathless on how close they are before getting interrupted by a car horn honking or a cell phone vibrating. Not only did it lead to four years of no-communication. It also came a large number of talking herself off the edge from picking up the phone to call him and to hear his voice. As well, there were endless nights of sleep wondering if he’s found someone else to share all of his secrets and to make his home. Even thousands of miles and a time change, he was there and her first and last thought of the day.

So to meet his mother, just as something begins to flourish between them is startling her. Not because Teagan won’t be charismatic with meeting Jennifer Dalton. Instead, the neurosurgeon is aware of the growing feelings ─ lust, love, warmth, all of the above ─ that she has for John. It will crush her if his mother disapproves of her because there’s no going back from what’s enhancing for him. She’s already gone years without him. To think about a lifetime, there’s no way she’ll survive.

After ten outfit changes, which she’s counted because every time the petite woman pivoted on her heel and sought John’s approval ─ who seemingly approved of everything because either he’s swooned (rightfully so) or because he has no idea what will make an impression on his mother. Either way, the last outfit she picked will just have to do. It’s not like Teagan will beg John to head back home because another outfit, that would be more suitable, suddenly dances into her conscience. Deep breaths, Teagan tells herself with every step toward the Bed and Breakfast on the outskirts of Olympus. Luckily, if their hands weren’t, she would’ve face planted just getting out of the vehicle.

Nearing the establishment’s front door, there’s a halt from behalf before turning and gazing up at him. John looks clean and put together ─ most likely because it has been a while since seeing his mother. She feels to need to take him in, feeling her nerves subside because he’s there, but all she wants is to make sure this leads them to victory. “Hey,” her songbird falsetto courses through, lifting a hand to adjust his jacket. “I know I asked a hundred times already but, do you think everything I’m bringing for your mother will be okay?” Now, her head motions to the bag, in the other hand, full of worries. “I just… want to make a good impression on her because I like where this is going and I don’t want it to end ever.”  

[teagansmaron]

REBECCA MORRISON.

­

Pie and ice-cream was a golden combination, no matter the situation or moment. But Becky was pretty sure that a birthday only made it a better combination in her opinion. “Yeah, it’s for my birthday. I’m not expecting a lot of visitors but I thought this would be nice to have,” she said with a chuckle to the other woman, her eyes growing a little larger when she heard what Teagan said about buying the pie for her as a treat for her birthday. “That’s very kind of you,” was all that she said. There was a part of her that wanted to tell Teagan that it was not going to be necessary to do that for her, but she had a feeling that the other woman was not going to have any of that. “Turning twenty-four today, so that deserves at least some kind of treat in the form of pie.”

⭒

As someone who hasn’t correctly celebrated her birthday in years, preferring to work on the day that ages her instead of going out, the auburn-tressed female remembers what it was like to be in her early twenties how the day was of importance. If she had known sooner, perhaps Teagan could’ve gotten Becky a birthday cake and a little gift, but her overworked conscience desperately needed a break. Instead, offering to pay for the pie is a step forward in letting the young girl enjoy her day. “Well, happy birthday, Becky.” Mouth corners grow upward, allowing her hand lift and rest on the other’s shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll have to make sure to get you something, but for now, I hope this makes up for the time being.” The size of Teagan’s heart is ever-growing, having always been someone who loves to make others feel special. She may not be the closest to the other, but little things go forward in someone’s day. After a moment, one of Mama Kay’s employees decides to approach them as she steps up to the glass case. “She’s picking it out, and I’m paying for it. We may need another moment,” she explains gently, not wanting to let the other feel rushed. “Have you enjoyed yourself today or done anything eventful?”

[teagansmaron]

JOHN DALTON.

The air is calm but thick with potential. John feels as though he’s finally shed his summer skin and inched into something more comfortable, something that’s been out of reach for years and years. He rides and basks in the feeling of Teagan’s arms around his broad waist. He passes homes with the lights down, homes with old women on the front porch drinking tea and taking in the early-November evening. 

There’s a vibration in his pocket mid-ride, his phone. The sound of wind pushing against them muffles the sound but John can still feel it moving against his thigh. For a moment, he’s stunned, nervous he was going to pluck his phone from his pocket to another death. Another casualty. He has to swallow hard to keep a steady grip on his emotions, moving through Olympus streets and various neighborhoods to get to Teagan’s front door.

Once they arrive, John doesn’t spend much time before he reaches a hand into his pocket. One leg moves up and around his bike, standing with his back to Teagan now. He doesn’t recognize the number that’s just called which alone makes him paranoid. So much so that he thinks to call Seth first, or maybe even Andy. Just to be sure. The pads of his fingers hover over his phone, thinking to delete the number entirely before it calls again, his cellphone buzzing in his hands. 

With evident nervousness, he picks up, pressing the device to his ear, “Hello?” In a way, John already knows. Something inside him would always know. Everything about that makes him feel sick, from the audacity and to the cliche nature of the entire scenario. 

“Oh, John, honey, you really need to pick up the damn phone when somebody calls.” Jennifer Dalton spews on the other end, most likely holding her phone to her ear by her skinny shoulder. Her manicured fingers were probably tapping at a wine glass filled to the brim while her too-young boyfriend showered in the other room. 

With the phone pressed to his ear, he turns to Teagan, who has since rested a hand on his clothed shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed, the sense of shock pooling through him a tad too paralyzing. He hadn’t spoken to his mother in a few years. The last time he spoke was on some holiday he couldn’t remember. Probably Christmas where she called to give her good tidings before hanging up by mistake. The calls never lasted long. Five minutes, tops. To think she was calling on a random day makes John wonder if there was a holiday he skipped by mistake. 

“Guess what! I’m in Olympus. What’s your address? God, this town is atrocious, John, I’m a little disappointed. Like, you drive through the wonderful New Orleans and end up here? Christ Almighty…” With that, John hangs up on impulse and regrets it instantly after doing so. “Shit,” John says under his breath, staring down at the now dark screen of his cellphone.

Green eyes finally look to Teagan who’s grown more concerned over the last couple seconds. “That was my mother,” The man says reluctantly, “She’s in town.”

THE END.

[teagansmaron]

SPECIAL DELIVERY TO: @harpercarmichael​

LOCATION: Olympus Farmers Market

In the last couple of months, her days had been spent with Sutton as they continued planning the Community Garden. Truthfully, the auburn-haired woman looked forward to the time with Sutton because the woman was wise beyond her years and always knew how to lift Teagan for the depth of her thoughts ─ long before she allowed herself to drown in them. Even though both women grew into their relationship in the latter years, having bonded by both of them signing up for the Big Little program, the neurosurgeon felt like she has known the other for her whole life. So, the loss had altered her life within a couple of hours; she’s been doing the most to keep her readjusted head due to John by going through the motions of life and completing the most mundane tasks. 

As Teagan wanders through the Farmers Market, reusable totes in the grip of her hand, walking through the makeshift isles as her chartreuse hues eye the produce and homemade items for sale. Her press are pressed into a fine line, clear that she was in her world while walking and going on with her day like a ghost. It’s when she takes a couple of steps to a nearby vendor with fresh cauliflower that she gently nudges into someone. “Oh.” It slips from her mouth, returning to the ground of her actions by the motion itself before chartreuse hues scan the patron on the other hand. For all she knows, they could’ve cursed up a storm and tuned it all out. “Harper? Hey, sorry if I ran into you.” There’s a pause on her behalf, collecting herself before chuckling softly. In the moments, she uses to tuck a strand of locks behind her ear, glancing elsewhere to avoid the embarrassment. “Clearly, I’m in my own world,” she apologizes once more gently but it’s an understatement of the century. “How are you?”

[teagansmaron]

📲 IMS: TEAGAN → LIZ.

Liz: I'm okay. Just needed some space to think things through.

Liz: Sounds like a good idea. I would be honoured for that

Liz: John better treats you well while I'm out of town.

Teagan: Ok, good. I figured to text you instead of showing up unannounced and I wonder what's going on. If you need to call me -- I'm here and I'll always pick up the phone.

Teagan: Are you with Eli and Ollie?

Teagan: I'm glad because I know how much you cared about it. I want you to feel apart always.

Teagan: And he is. Trust me. I'm grateful to have him even though part of me /wonders/ what I did to deserve him but I'm enjoying every minute.

[teagansmaron]

WESLEY EVANS.

“It’s a good movie. My son’s gonna be watching it a ton whether he likes it or not,” The Little Mermaid was a classic. “Yeah unless it’s the gender reveal party and you make me wear one of those uncomfy shirts,” He winced at the thought, “I’m still not over havin’ to wear a full on shirt, Teag,” He teased, though really, he did hate it. “Not sure why you’re surprised. I’m definitely not. I think if you told him to wear like a teletubby costume he’d do it,” Apparently the dudes around here had a thing of being whipped by their girls. Or their not actual girls. “So are you guys like a thing since he’s your date?”

⭒

A soft chuckle escapes her lips, knowing that everyone’s influence of Baby Evans will overwhelm the newborn, but the amount of love he’s going to have will never temper. “Oh yeah, he has no other option. Maybe we can even trick him into believing that I was voicing Ariel,” she poses the thought with a hilarity coursing over her falsetto, dancing brows indicating that her mind is running laps. If anyone who’s going to partake in any of Teagan’s ideas, even one that is innocent, such as convincing her nephew of a minor detail, it would be Wesley. However, a short second after, her chartreuse hues roll into the back of her head, “I did that because I wanted you to look nice and reflect years from now on how I did you a solid.” Looking presentable and looking like the star of the afternoon ─  which, after all, the weekend was about her cousin, Wes, and the newest addition soon to arrive. Though, she chuckles once again, realizing that she didn’t have to plead with John to dress up with her. If anything, all the auburn-haired woman had to do is pose the direction his way, and he was surprisingly content with coming here with here ─ even though people will wonder what’s going on between them. “No, we aren’t.” It comes with a shake of her head and a soft sigh. Though, every part of her wants to. “But… I feel alive with him. Safe, you know? So, who knows… maybe something will happen with him and I tonight.”

[teagansmaron]

JOHN DALTON.

Taking this plunge, at first, gave John the impression that he might have been dipping into ice cold waters. He had many factors to thank for this. His paranoia, Taylor, the promise of impending doom thanks to the calatoral damage that was his parents’ own marriage and relationship to one another. But, as always, Teagan earns newfound hope to bloom through him. You’d think it was spring the way his cheeks burn and the smell of flowers and light and warmth consumes them both in one swoop. 

Though despite all it’s warmth and ease, it’s the most profound thing he’s felt in ages. If anything, this moment now makes him realize that he’s been quite stuck for years. Trapped in an eternal cycle of vague sorrow and reluctance. Teagan had become a part of that cycle, a victim to his own unwillingness to try or move on. For that, he’s guilty, wishing this moment could have happened ages ago because, in hindsight, it should have. He should have kissed her the moment the tips of their noses brushed all those years ago before his phone rang. He should have held her hand when they walked alongside one another, staring up and trees and apologizing for the past. He should have wrapped an arm around her waist when she was feeling defeated after the loss of Lucille. He should have been there more than he was.

But you’re here now, John, is what the little, kinder voice inside his head says. John can’t help but lean into it, finally submitted to whatever kindness the world or himself has to offer. Why more did he have to lose if he were to deny himself this one pleasure? When he’s pulling away, he realizes that there was so much he could actually lose. The protection his metaphorical walls provide, the idea that Taylor would no longer loom over him like a darkened cloud because, somehow, that strangely brought him comfort on certain days. Though he was clinging rather than accepting and that much becomes evident now.

Then, profanities escape Teagan and John can’t help but laugh. All his worries disipate once more and he’s a little lost in her. In her smile, her skin, her scent, her voice, the way she leans into him. It all morphs into one large being and leaves him struck. It deepens. “In all my years of knowing you, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse,” The man teases, a chuckle weaving through his words. 

With all the willpower he had left, he pulls away, forehead still pressed to hers. His hands remain on each side of her face, the pad of his thumb gently grazing her cheek. Home. Now that was another concept that had since become forgein. Though it comes alive now and it’s not burning red as he assumed. It was golden.

“Yeah, I do.” He says, almost exhausted. It’s exhaustion in the form of bliss. He feels like a child coming home from a long, wonderful day at an amusement park. Green eyes lift to look toward the empty community garden once more. Even then, barren, he can still see all that he mentioned. Roses, crops, flowers galore. Then, he looks to Teagan again, and she’s the reason for all it’s glory. “Come on.” He says, an airy laugh escaping him. He nods to his bike in the distance. In his head, he thinks to name the little metal butterfly Goldie.

There’s a moment when a smidge of fear flickers. The chase of being with him, and getting to the point beyond almost, is something that she has minded, but it made the wait all-more blissful. However, it’s the fear that they both have gotten to this place where they have begun to write symphonies against each other’s petals that he got a dose of the healing medicine that it will cause him to pull away. Not out of fear, but because he got a taste and thought it was enough. These thoughts are beginning to circulate in her mind, finding their way to her chest as it’s a combination of her heart’s abnormal beating due to the emotions and anxiety interlaced at once. 

But, the auburn-tressed woman tells herself not to think about it. Not to plan further into the fear even though past experiences harmed her and want to etch through. John has been a constant in her life ─ a few moments here and there slipping through them not talking ─ but he’s proven millions to her in the time of their reunion. His undying loyalty. The adjustment of his schedule to be with her. His head lying beside her at the end of the evening and the first sight she sees when she wakes up. He helps her envision the dim-light empty lot they currently find themselves in as it makes her heart yearns further for him. In a way of forever. In ways that may be selfish, Teagan is ready to be selfish for once in her life because this man is everything she has ever wanted in a lover. A love that came without warning ─ starry eyes that sparkle up even on her darkest nights.

The lack of illumination upon her features since Sutton’s loss is slowly but surely returning to the surface as her head begins to get screwed on tight again. His comment about his years of knowing her and the lack of cursing on her behalf is accurate as a chuckle escapes. Maybe that’s what makes this moment even more powerful. He hadn’t expected to hear those words, let alone ever, but it proves the kiss’s bliss empowers her and brings out a side that’s rare and comes out when emotions are powerful. “It doesn’t happen often, but when I’m on cloud nine. I want to reassure you that… this is everything. Everything I’ve been waiting for and it’s perfect,” it comes out in a gentle whisper as if someone else was listening into their conversation as she lets him know she doesn’t regret right now or the kiss from a couple of days ago. If anything, her desires for more without coming on too strong. 

Chartreuse hues flicker over his face as she studies him like her favorite medical journal, beam widening further, hearing that he’s ready to go home. They jumped numerous steps in their relationship lately, but there’s no one else she would want to break the rules for other than John. So, with a glance over as she wonders how he’s real and how he chose her of everyone, feeling the light continues to grow within her. Teagan’s something to someone ─ even when her mother tried to belittle her and told her no one would ever find solace in her. There’s someone who wants her. And it’s then, the last flicker of her thoughts, the short trip to the motorcycle comes from her behalf as her hand found his own, tugging him along to allow the evening to consume them. 

Considering how compact their Southern town happens to be, the trip from the bare community garden to her home takes less than ten minutes. The grip of her arms around his waist cling on for dear life ─ just like she did the short distance from the hospital to the community garden. However, she wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s a symbol of how much she needs him and how, after years of them being this story of almosts, the neurosurgeon is finally granting him access to see all of her ─ even the moments when clouds loom over her head and make it difficult to function. It’s going to be scary, but she doesn’t think she’s going to run.

As they pull up to the gunmetal gray, two-story home in the quiet, family-friendly neighbor, the light beaming from the living room comes on promptly at five-thirty for Trixie. The woman knows the growing dalmatian will be thrilled and jumping at the sight of someone coming home, especially John, showing the dog has taken an immense amount of liking of the male since his visits have become constant. Her arms untwine themselves from his waist before getting off the motorcycle and standing a near distance to John. The houses nearby remain light, and the reverberation of crickets signaling harmony tonight. 

But, there’s something in his expression as the cell-phone illuminates.Suddenly, there’s the ping of fear glazing over her as Teagan’s hand rests upon his clothed shoulder, giving him the same touch of warmth and reassurance as earlier post kiss. Could something that big have happened on their way home? “Is everything okay?”

[teagansmaron]

📲 IMS: TEAGAN → LIZ.

Liz: Yeah, arrived here a few hours ago. Sorry I didn't tell you.

Liz: Sounds like a plan. Why don't you start filling me in already?

Teagan: You're ok! It happens to the best of us. I'm glad that I texted instead of hoping over and began to ring your doorbell excessively. Are you okay?

Teagan: Well.... I'll start off with something small then. I knew that Sutton and I wanted to do planting party but now I'm starting to think I should make it more personal with close friends and family coming instead heaps of the town right away.

Teagan: John gave me more of the idea to personalize it more when. I figured since you spent a lot of time with grandma, you'd be the early few to contribute. Not sure when though but maybe around Thanksgiving.

[daeneryskairipa]

[teagansmaron]

📲 IMS: TEAGAN → LIZ.

Teagan: Hey, checking in to see how you're doing. Did you head up to NOLA?

Teagan: Trixie misses Wolfie. So maybe after the storage unit trip, you can come over, I'll have wine, let them hang out in the backyard? And I'll fill you on some stuff that has happened.

[teagansmaron]

JOHN DALTON.

〰️

Oh no. It’s all he can think. It’s all he can fathom when the familiar rapid beating of his heart ensues. He can hear it in his ears, thumping like a snare drum. The air feels thin and cool around them. The silence blanketing Olympus soon turns into something warmer. It no long suffocates which alone feels like a miracle. For a moment, John wishes everyone could experience Teagan Maron just like this. Her hearts emits an energy the size of a large city and it plows right through John, almost knocking the wind right out of him. He can’t quite remember the last time he felt this overcome by another person. Even with Taylor, which was a daunting thought. Perhaps if what he had with Taylor was pure, it would be easier to compare the two. But, when he looks back, the story’s warped. Unlike anything. What he had with Teagan was pure. A rose growing from frozen ground, a humming bird perched on a branch of a high tree. It’s little wonders.

When she speaks now, John’s hearing goes. There’s a quiet ringing deep within his ears that pairs with the constant thump of his awestruck heart. With that, he can’t muster the right words to say.

His breath hitches, her voice once again sending him hurdling back down to earth. As before, he’s grounded, feet planted to the concrete. His green eyes stare into her own before they move down her face and then up again. By then, only one thing comes to mind and it’s the kiss. In the back of the maze, the celebration coming to a slow close. He remembers the faces on the children who recognized Teagan as none other than Princess Ariel in the flesh. He can see the whites of their teeth shining in the night as they smile up at her and ask for a hug or a photo. In that moment too, all he wanted to do was kiss her, just as this one.

“You deserve everything, Teagan.” John says, his voice hushed. The sincerity in his voice was evident. He means it. “I mean that.” A breathy chuckle sounds from him then, the sound soon followed by a shake of his head. “The only thing on my list of things to do is to replace some old man’s boat motor with a new one. He lives out in New Orleans. On the coast,” Green eyes wander, a shrug coming next. “This, being here with you, is the most important thing to me right now. I wanna be here.” Another sincere truth.

After a few beats, John’s impulse seems to flip a switch inside him. He goes to speak again but stops before cupping each side of Teagan’s face, kissing her. It’s vaguely similar to the kiss they shared just a day ago. It was slow though this time it feels deeper. 

John’s not sure how long it lasts before he pulls away. It could’ve been seconds or minutes. Time has a tendency to blur while he’s in her presence. By now, the sky is a deep shade of blue. Almost black. Barely-there stars hang above their heads and the town of Olympus. John inhales, “Sorry..” He says, also on impulse. His hands remain on her cheeks, finding that he doesn’t have the strength to pull away entirely.

Was it so terrible that he wanted to be close to her? Perhaps that was the real thing haunting John. From the moment he met her, wide-eyed and sweet in Blake’s living room, he believed that feeling anything for anyone would be a betrayal of sorts. He’d tossing the last bit of dirt onto Taylor’s grave. Her death would be finalized, solidified, and John would have to live with the fact that his past was his past no matter how much he hid in plain sight.

With a sigh, John leans his forehead against Teagan’s. Once again, he can’t think of anything to say which, in hindsight, was a tad jarring for a retired novelist. You’d think his words would have been piled up by now, too many to consider. But while Teagan has a way of leaving his moments in a haze, she also has a way of leaving him seemingly speechless.

⭒

The urge to stand on her tippy-toes and to lock herself against his lips overpowers her more than anything. However, she withholds for a moment to make sure her sense or emotions are being reciprocate so she isn’t getting blinded. This longing and this feeling of warmth that she receives from him causes her prior worries to vanish into thin air. If he can believe in her by reassuring and guiding her through the empty square footage, as well as see her tackle this, it screws her head on straight. It’s like he’s guiding her to the bright light  ─ the bright light that happens to be him. 

Her hand that happens to rest on his shoulder moves slowly. It takes pit stops on the side of his neck, linger for a moment as her chartreuse optics scan over his familiar features. Little by little, her digits begin to trail on the side of his neck near where it gently dances over his neck vein before reaching the destination of the back of his neck. It’s like she’s teasing him, which as well mean she’s teasing herself from the taste of him. 

You deserve everything, Teagan.

Thump. Louder than ever before. Almost uncontrollable to the point if he laid his ears on her chest, laying near where her beating organ lies, he would hear it reaching and beating to the point where it might combust. Not even her first love made her feel like this. At least, from what she can remember because it didn’t last long but the heartache felt unreal. He called her to tense and focused on her future rather than enjoying herself ─ which she did but it was an attack. Nonetheless, standing here, breath hitched in the pit of her throat, Teagan feels like she’s experiencing a moment that only exists in the fairytale books you read as a child. Maybe in a way, this is a fairytale but instead of them returning back to their separate entities, they’ll go home tonight as they are allowed to properly allow these emotions to consume them.

I wanna be here. It’s all that she hears before their lips collide against each other and Teagan is standing upon her tippytoes, almost feels like she is clinging onto him for dear life because she thinks she won’t get another go at this. God, she’s so wrong because it’s only been a few days that passed and they’re hear lost in the moment, writing a story, perhaps even history against each others lips. Further this moment goes on, making it clear that everything around them becomes background noise as they are fixated on their actions.

To say she’s winded, but in a good way, is the first thing Teagan is greeted with when their lips part. They’re still close as his forehead feels against hers. Her hand remaining on the back of his neck as taken a few dark of his dark locks in her hold. Speechless. Breathless. “No,” it comes out immediately, gently because she isn’t sorry. Hell, she’s glad it happened again. It’s putting things in perspective. It’s shaping what should’ve happened years before her departure. “I’m glad you did that. So fucking glad,” the beam widening on her mouth corners matches her words.

“So glad.” Once again, but for the last time, she reassures him. Her mind isn’t even thinking about the next moments, how much this is going to change things and cause them to open webs of their past to each other. It doesn’t matter right now because while her mind is constantly on the move, the moments with him keep her still and locked in the now. As her other hand, the one that rested on her side during their kiss comes to rest on his clothed chest, she nibbles on her lower petal whilst observing him. “Wanna head home?”

[teagansmaron]

BLAKE CASTILLO.

It felt wrong for Blake to move forward with completing the nursery considering the soil on Sutton’s grave had barely settled, however, she knew it needed to be done and although she was hesitant to admit it, it had been a much needed distraction.  Blake couldn’t stand to wallow in her grief as she knew she needed to propel herself forward if she wanted to get through this and the nursery seemed like as good a task as any to help her with that.  However, her and Teagan moved in silence as they slowly arranged what would be her son’s nursery; she had been feeling particularly grateful for the fact that Wes and Andy had assembled the crib earlier in the week as it would’ve been a very daunting task to complete today.  Admittedly, the whole day had dragged on in a bit of a blur as they rearranged various decorations and barked various orders at one another.  When Teagan disappeared downstairs, Blake remained in the nursery and sat in the rocking chair that she argued would be better in the opposite corner of the room and she was, of course, right as she could already see the sun blinding her while she fed the baby.  However, she remained in silence as she slowly rocked back and forth as her mind wandered to Sutton before staring off into the distance.  She didn’t even notice Teagan’s return until she spoke.  “I’m jus’ glad that we didn’t have to put the crib together,” her voice lacked the enthusiasm it had a few weeks prior when she spoke of his nursery.  It was supposed to be an exciting time in Blake’s pregnancy, however, there was a particularly dark cloud looming over the heads of the residents of Olympus.  “Better,” she finally admitted, though, there was still an ache in her chest.  “Yeah,” she rose from the rocking chair as she spoke.  “Let’s go, I’m starvin’.”  She said as she made her way passed Teagan to make her way down the stairs and into her kitchen where the bags of take out were.  As she pulled the containers out, she glanced over at Teagan.  “What about you?  How’re you feelin’?”

⭒

Even if neither one of them will admit it, the nursery is a welcomed distraction to what’s unfolding in their quaint town. Around every corner lies uncertainty and a glance over your shoulder. It brings complications as Teagan fails to wrap her head around the entire situation now. Sutton, of all people? It doesn’t make sense ─ not that it would make sense otherwise. Still, it could’ve been wrong time and place, which doesn’t make the circumstances any better, but Sutton deserves to be here and everything should be going on with their days without fear. It’s why Teagan is glad to be with Blake right now. If she was left alone, even for the few hours when John had to go out and repair a guy’s boat, the auburn-haired woman would’ve paced back and forth in her living room until it wore out the hardwood floor. Though, with Blake, there’s always solace even if both of them happen to be mute and are going forward with the task. They could’ve taken care of the room weeks prior but things at work had kept her occupied and she promised to do this with her cousin  ─ going through this journey together and supporting one-another like they have ever since they were little. A forced chuckle escapes her lips, knowing that both of them would’ve gotten frustrated by the crib and gave up halfway through, “Well, I’m glad we didn’t either. I don’t have that energy,” she explains in a monotone range. Once they made it downstairs, she navigated through the kitchen like it’s her own as she grabbed silverware and plates before placing them on counter. “Stuck,” she mumbles before shrugging. “Having a hard time to wrap my head around it but I think we can all agree to that.” What else she wants to say is how they’ll be okay, everything will make sense and justice will be served. They just have to wait. “John’s been spending the night.”

[teagansmaron]

GISELE RAMIREZ.

+

Gisele nodded in agreement, “We really do, this was certainly a much needed break. I didn’t think I’d come out tonight, but now that I’m here, so worth it.” Both women needed this time off and away from their day to day responsibilities, especially when who knows if they’ll have this opportunity again. The dancer’s heart melted after learning more about the intentions behind her cousin’s act of kindness and she couldn’t help, but clasp her hands together and stare at her in awe, “Oh Teagan, you give me hope and honestly, we deserve more of you in this world.” It’s moments like this where she appreciated the little things in life, even the small gestures that make such a big impact on one’s life. “I’m so excited for your patient. I could already tell that they’ll be quite joyous tomorrow.”

Green hues averted to where her cousin was directing her and eventually caught sight of Mister Prince Eric himself in the crowd. “Ohhhh?” she mused while glancing back over to the auburn-haired woman. “John Dalton…I see…I see…” Winking playfully, she took her cousin’s hand and gave it a light squeeze, “You two are quite an adorable pair, I mean right off the bat I can tell he’s special.” Gisele was more than happy for her and could only hope that whatever they have will blossom into something worth having. “Gracias mi prima! Annnnd I knooowww…” Her voice trailed off as she began to look around and see where he is, “—I’ll see if he’s up for it. I wanted him to have his fair share of fun…Plus I think he’s into those horror stuff and I am sooo sitting out for that.” 

⭒

In a swift motion, an arm loops around her cousin’s shoulder as a dimple indents itself on her left cheek. She’s glad Gisele made the time out of her schedule to be here ─ to have fun. “I’m glad you did too. Just think about it when we’re in our forties, laughing over this by the bon fire, with the growing family and we look back on how focused we were on our work and wonder how we didn’t have grays,” she informs in a chuckle. Though, a second later, Teagan let her cousin know on why she is also embodying a Disney Princess. All of the patients she meets throughout the years, the impact that each one of them have on her takes a place in her heart. This is something she wanted to look back on and remember Chloe’s face of exhilaration when looking at the pictures tomorrow. If there’s anyone who understands the love Teagan has for her work, especially her patients, it’s Gisele. “Oh please, it’s the least I could do. She gave me the costume idea and I ran with it.” 

Though, before waving off the compliment from Gisele like it’s no-big deal, both of the females focus on John. It’s only a glimpse of his backside causes a home feeling in the pit of her chest, withholding a gaping expression consume her mouth corners and a faint blush on her cheeks. It’s almost a surreal, child-like feeling growing within her because there’s optimism and hope in something wonderful happening in the future ─ however long that will take. So when her cousin points out how she can tell he’s special, all she can do is nod because she’s overtaken by the loss of words. Every part of her didn’t think it was noticeable. They have history but it’s never led them further than almost. If they continue on, maybe that will open pandora’s box, so giving Gigi a squeeze of her hand, diverting the topic of romance with the other. “Yeah, if I remember correctly and all of the years when he hung out with Natasha, Kathryn, and myself, sick and twisted mind he has,” she jokes with dancing brows, “Maybe he’s dressed up as Rocky Balboa? Have his strong embrace around you if you get scared.”

[teagansmaron]

REBECCA MORRISON.

­

An expression of realization dawned upon Becky before it was replaced by a bright smile at the idea that the other woman had given her. “That sounds like a great idea and I can’t believe that I haven’t thought of it myself,” she said to Teagan, before motioning over to the person behind the counter that she would like some apple pie. That also meant that she would have to make a different trip to the supermarket as well to get some ice-cream as well. Maybe even some whipped cream to make the combination complete. “Thank you for that advice. I’m sure that the visitors will love that as well. Otherwise I will just eat it all by myself without any regrets,” Becky said with a chuckle to the other woman.

⭒

There’s a laugh coming from Teagan’s behalf, which causes the bridge of her nose to scrunch. “It’s what I do,” she begins, understanding having the wave of carving for pie herself. Maybe she’ll grab a piece and take it home. Of course, Trixie will try to stick her face in the plate as the auburn-haired owner gently nudged the dog elsewhere. “You might as well have your pie and ice-cream too. Hitting two birds with one stone,” she explains softly to Becky, shrugging off the younger woman’s appreciation for her help. It’s the least that she could do. The woman can understand how many dilemmas there can be between two flavors. It always helps to have someone else’s opinion to guide the way, but it doesn’t overshadow the overall view. Though, once her chartreuse hues eye the pie from behind the glass, the other’s words catch her attention once more, “Visitors? Is it for a special occasion like a birthday?” Just then, another thought dances in her conscience, wondering if the other is talking about herself. Now she’s taking a bet. “Because if it’s your birthday, I’m not gonna let you buy that pie yourself, Becky. Let me treat you.”  

[teagansmaron]

JOHN DALTON.

〰️

Loss, to John Dalton, had become a constant birdsong. He wakes up each morning to the same oozing light across the hardwood, to the same birds perched on branches outside his window. They sing the same tune, a reminder like an alarm clock on high, and it all stems from loss. Even when he feels brand new, fresh emotions lining the area where his brain resides, it’s always there. Loss. The loss of Taylor Danvers, the loss of his mother and her dignity, the loss of his sister and her mispaced love for their mother, and the loss of his father to the bottle. Loss was how he started his days and ended his nights.

Usually, his outlook was on the matter was absurdly pessimistic. He’d toss his emotions to the wind and hope for the best. And, when nothing ever came to, he’d opt for a good place to hide. Olympus served as just that at first. When he arrived all those years ago, this town was meant to be a place for John to bury his head in the dirt. He’d make no friends, no connections, and he’d live in a shell of isolation until he he became old and satisfied with lonesome. Yet, he was struck once again and in the most unexpected way. Struck by a head of red hair and a smooth voice. He’s struck by a beaming smile and a makeshift community garden with metal butterflies. 

A few beats of silence brew between them after she speaks. John cants his head in thought, averting his gaze from Teagan and to the empty community garden. For the first time in what feels like forever, he taps into a section of his mind that has gone dark. The storyteller. The imaginative. 

“You know what I see?” John says then, breaking through the silence. He releases her hand, moving to stand behind her, allowing his hands to rest on her shoulders before gliding down to her hands. One of his arms moves outward while still holding onto her hand, pointing to an area in the corner, “I see a rose bush. Red and pink. You’ll plant them as a start to the garden. Then, next to it,” Their hands move further down, “Maybe Sutton’s favorite flower. It’ll grow large and mighty. And then, in the other corner, maybe some daisies or a tomato plant. Some housewife might come through and plant some basil to put in her Italian dishes that she cooks for the family on Easter or Christmas Eve.” He eyes a spot near the front, moving Teagan’s hand to follow, “Rowan’s plot could go here. She’ll bring Maddie and Benny and you’ll plant with them after a shift at the hospital. And when Blake’s baby is born, she’ll teach her son to plant here with Wes at their side. They’ll grow up here. So will Eliza. She’ll remember this as a piece of her mother. Maddox will take her here all the time.” 

John releases her hands, padding towards a place in the center, “Mine will go here. I’ll also plant basil but I’ll do it way better. Green beans too.” A fond smile graces his expression as he allows his eyes to rest upon Teagan once more. The sky was darkening outside, a sea of yellow and orange blanketing over Olympus. Teagan is backlit by the light, making a halo of white frame her body. She looks like the angels John would read about in books as a child. “And you’re gonna make it all happen. Sutton too. You’ll do it because you loved her and she was your friend, and because it’s something you love and believe in. It’s more than a vision, it’s a legacy. When we’re gone, people will still come here and talk about how it started and how it used to be an antique shop owned by a sweet woman who loved her grandaughter.” John reaches a hand out to touch one of the metal butterflies, “Maybe little kids will name the butterflies. Maybe someone will prick their finger on one of the stems on he rose bush while on their first date. Maybe rebellious teenagers will sneak in one evening to drink cheap beer and smell flowers and pluck tomatoes from vines.”

John turns to look out across the soon-to-be garden one more time before averting his gaze over to the redhead standing a few feet from him. “Loss is…sometimes, it really does feel like dying,” John says now, trying to muster the right words. Really, there was no right way to approach this. There never will be, that he knew for sure. “It’s hard and brutal. This will be too. Making this happen. But it’s so worth all the strange feelings of pain. It kinda reminds you how human we all are which is sometimes forgotten in this town.” The man steps closer to her, “This garden isn’t going to be great just because you trusted Sutton. It’s going to be great because you trusted in your own ideas and your own heart too. Even in the midst of all this loss.”

⭒

Being blown away by John Dalton is an understatement. From the first moment her chartreuse hues locked on him, this unfamiliar figure resting in her cousin’s house took her by surprise. Mostly because when she had come over, the auburn-haired woman was so used to Wesley wandering around and making himself comfortable, she didn’t know Blake took in another semblance of her boyfriend in. While these thoughts grasped her, remaining airtight in her conscience, the petite woman swallowed the surprise by extending a hand to his direction. Even if she didn’t know then, taking the first step to greet him and to see where things go lead Teagan Maron to the most important person in her entire life ─ even if it took her four years of an intermission and a few recent exchanges to know there’s comfort in the shape of his frame. 

So, when he releases her hands, her feet plant themselves in the recently paved sidewalks that twist and turn around the square of the lot back to the entrance. All she can do is let her chartreuse optics look at the blank slate that has gone through so much development since May. To think one morning, after a long shift at the hospital and passing out in her bed with Trixie, that she’d wake up to see the antique shop that Lucille loved with her whole heart torn to shreds. All of the rubble that crinkled underneath her tennis shoes and pieces destroyed beyond repair. It took Maddox coming out a few days later, and Silas helping her out with filing a claim for the structure to be removed. Teagan thought long and hard. Selling the property would be a profit, and someone else could have a benefit. But, it was Sutton’s mind that pieced it all together. Not only is it a way to keep the land that Lucille spent hours at, but others can make memories of their own. It’s surreal how quick she was to get rid of it.

And she’s glad that she didn’t ─ even if anything aches within her. 

Then there’s John, mending the aching sensation that sits in the pit of her chest by taking the time of his day by being with her at every point possible and while pointing out parts of the empty land with bushes. He starts with roses, which happens to be one of Teagan’s favorites and would make a beautiful statement because who didn’t love roses? Their adjoined hands move further forward, allowing her to make a mental reminder by his recommendations, a tear breaks from the confines of her tear duct at the mention of Sutton’s favorite flower. It’s something she’d have to ask Maddox, but that detail would be beautiful and breathtaking beside her starter plant. One idea flows after another, feeling the way her heart begins to beat against her chest, mimicking the moments before they kissed at the Harris House.

She didn’t forget it, even if Teagan didn’t have the chance to bring it up because of the overshadowing news of Sutton’s passing. The aroma of the saltwater fragrance that lingered on his skin, down to the softness of his lips against her own, as she got a hint of the bourbon he had before they came outside. She still remembers it. It’s clear that when she thinks about that evening, especially that moment, it calms her down when everything becomes too much for her to handle. 

Even if she’s consumed by silence, allowing him to guide their hands to the areas around the garden, making more mental reminders. There’s a soft chuckle that slips from her mouth, tongue licking the bottom of her petal, “Basil and green beans. It’s an interesting combination, but I like that a lot,” her songbird falsetto fills the prolonged silence from her behalf. It’s different. It adds character because she wasn’t too sure what kind of plants to have around. She had a general idea of gardenia’s for her grandmother then roses. But he’s putting the pieces together. Almost like he’s fulfilling this position of being her other half  ─ the saving grace she never knew she needed. 

So when the woman is face-to-face with him, feeling as there’s a slight weight that vanished off her shoulders but all of the work she’s going to have to do, it’s going to work up the motivation. Nonetheless, all she can do is beam happily underneath the growing night sky, grateful for all that he’s doing for her right now and to lift her. Many people are missing the lose of Sutton right now. She isn’t the only person. But the way he’s prioritizing her, coming at her beckoning call without a second thought, it feels like there’s more truth linger behind his actions. Like he doesn’t want to be elsewhere. “John,” her voice increases in octaves after a moment, sighing gently. “Thank you for all of this. For those kind words, the idea of what to do with this garden is the belief that I can do it but especially with me. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. Maybe there’s a part of me that doesn’t think I deserve this at all,” she rests a hand on his shoulder, not knowing what her mind and actions could do next. So, she keeps talking. “Like I don’t deserve….. you in my life. There are so many other places you could be right now, but you’re standing here with me this empty lot… telling me about you planting basil and green beans.”

[teagansmaron]

JOHN DALTON.

〰️

It’s a little cliché, the sense of ease that washes over him at the sight of Teagan. Perhaps he was just relieved to see her okay and in one piece. When you lived in Olympus, it was easy to become desensitized by the tragic nature this town holds. Sometimes, it’s like a hurricane. It can take and take without much of a warning. It can sweep through the lives of people, the lives of the unexpectant. Though, this time, it feels like a tornado. It sweeps through the town in search for fear and sorrow and it gets just that. It’s thick, the atmosphere, and it vaguely reminds John of the evening Taylor died. He could almost smell the salt and sand. He has to swallow hard to rid of the taste and the feeling it brings. Thankfully, Teagan’s voice slices through the atmosphere like a blade. Clean.

“Now you’re just trying to flatter me,” John says teasingly, shaking his head. He moves from where he was leaning against his bike, shoving his hands into his pockets as the helmet is taken from his grasp. His own was propped up on the seat behind him. The tightness within his chest seems to finally subside, newfound nervousness from Teagan’s compliment replacing that feeling. He was thankful for it, that much was true, though he might not admit to it in the moment. Maybe later, when the world was less made up of eerie silence.

At her request, John almost thinks to decline. Was she ready for that? Was the wound still too fresh? It had only been a few days, Sutton’s presence still looming like a cloud. His lips soon purse in thought, looking to the ground and then to his shoes. His green eyes trace the area where a crack resides in the concrete, a weed was growing from the ground. It seemed fitting, maybe even a tad poetic. So, he sighs a little, a gentle smile gracing his expression. “Of course.” Is what he decides on, turning around to grab his helmet. “Just tell me if it gets too much, okay? We can go right home.” Home. Teagan’s home. He should’ve clarified. Really, it just slipped out without a second thought. 

That’s when he turns, helmet still in hand. He approaches her with care, his free hand reaching up to brush Teagan’s hair behind her ear. The pad of his thumb gently grazes the smooth skin of her cheek, “It’s gonna be okay.” He says, tone quiet, though an easy quiet. It doesn’t harbor the same darkness that envelops the town. “You’re gonna be okay.” With a hitched breath, he motions towards his bike, now sending a blade through the unspoken tension that always seemed to be brewing between them. They had kissed, John thought that would have vanished by now. Yet, it was still present. Prominent. Stirring.

“Hop on, Ariel.” John says then, still hoping to lighten the mood with whatever humor he could get his hands on. Once he’s straddling the seat, he revs the engine, the noise blaring through the air.  For once, the sound is somewhat comforting. To natives, it might seem more alarming, though, which earns a pang of guilt to move through John. But, just as that thought arrives, his eyes drift to Teagan once more and all he wants to do is protect her. Fuck the rest.

The ride is quick. They soar through their haunted town and the broken mess it’s become. He avoids the street where it happened, taking an alternate route. Once the soon-to-be community garden comes into view, he parks out front. Before getting off, he reaches back to rest a hand on Teagan’s thigh, “Hold on, let me check around. Just to be sure.” This might have been for his own sanity. His own paranoia that plagues his every endeavor. In truth, buried beneath it all, he can’t quite fathom what he’d do if Sutton’s fate was Teagan’s too. Taylor was enough to send him reeling, but Teagan’s might be his actual demise.

“Alright, we’re all good.” He says after circling the grounds and peeking inside other businesses and buildings surrounding the area. John plucks the loaded gun from the back of his pants and settles it carefully into the side pouch hanging from his bike. This will never be normal, his thoughts remind him. Despite this, he reaches his hand out for her to take.

⭒

Her head tilts to the side, observing the breathtaking sight of the male with both chartreuse hues as the dim streetlight in the distance causes him to stand out. It leaves her breathless amidst the cloud of loss that she’s battling with. Death feels too familiar. Not because of her job, which is an unfortunate circumstance, and the feeling of having to tell a loved one the surgery didn’t work out was still complicated over the years. However, it seems like everyone who has made an impact in Teagan’s life vanishes. Like they finished their task and deserved to rest elsewhere ─ unsure considering her own belief in religion faltered over the years. But, they’re somewhere, and she knows that. 

“Maybe a little,” the saccharine, silk-like laced falsetto, informs him. She finds herself beaming further since he texted her and told her he’s outside. It was like he’s a disease injected into her veins, and she has no desire to remove it because the feeling welcomes her like a blanket after a long day. Like he’s the blanket. After all, he has made himself at home in the last few days. It doesn’t even bother her. If anything, she adores the sight of a wakey sight of John in the morning as Trixie lays between them ─ like a barrier. “My words always come from a good place. You should know that,” she reassures him.  There’s never a moment where Teagan says something for effect without there being the meaning behind her. She’s always been the kind to lift others up, especially in her suffering.

We can go right home. Home, he thinks of home with her in it. The auburn-haired woman doesn’t miss those words for the life of her. However, the serenity from her behalf is occupied at one task at a time due to her heart fluttering out of control. Jesus Christ, she thinks to herself on in such a short time, John is drilled back into her mind ─ which is amusing coming from a neurosurgeon ─ but it’s hard not to be swept in by him. He knows her so well. He takes care of her, which Teagan does in return because she wouldn’t have it any other way. And she never fears like he’d judge her. After all, he encouraged her about her fellowship in Los Angeles, even if it came between them. It’s all too good. After a nod, she nibbles on her plump lower petal, “Yes, if it gets too much, we’ll go home. Trixie will probably be excited to see us.” There’s no point in correcting him because it makes her feel whole and alive. He has to know that.

Putting her helmet on, hearing more of his reassurance now, the Ariel tressed woman chuckles softly as the bridge of her nose scrunches. “At your request, Eric,” she hits him right back with the humor, shooting him a wink while swinging her leg over the motorcycle. Both arms slither around his tone waist in an effortless motion, tightening her grip to indicate that she has no desire to be elsewhere or with anyone else. Even though Teagan has never flat out said she needed protection, aware of her upbringing and the abuse she has dealt with, it feels nice to have someone willing to look out for you without asking. It’s like his soul knew long before she felt the need to tell him how scared she would get when allowing new people in her life. Then John waltzed into her life and began to smash those barriers down one after another.

The sight of the work-in-progress community garden causes her breath to hitch, but the way her mouth is somewhat near John’s ear causes her to bury that noise any further. She knows it’s too soon to be here. But, every part of her feels like it’s necessary to come to visit. It had only been a few days, and the workers have begun to hit up Teagan’s phone on what to do next as she avoided their calls. So if she came here, see all of the work Sutton and her up until this moment, it would further motivate her to finish this and go through with their planting party right before Thanksgiving. “Okay,” she softly utters, watching as John gets off the motorcycle. Before entirely vanishing into the surrounding, his touch on her thigh sends a jolt through her body. 

Goddamit, John. He’s been driving her crazy for a while, but tonight these things interlaced with the loss that she’s suffering yearns and tugs at her. Almost like she needs to lock and secure his importance in her life before he also vanishes into thin air like her loved ones. 

With the sight of the extended hand guiding her off the motorcycle, the auburn-haired woman doesn’t let her grip pull away from his large palm. Instead, her fingers miraculously intertwine with his. There’s a gentle pull from her petite behalf for him to follow. As she trails them a short distance, roughly around the area where the shop’s front door laid, is the archway that leads into the eventual wonder of green. “All of this happened because of Sutton. She saw that I didn’t want to let this land go, and she gave me this idea,” she explains softly. A freehand motion to the arch with metal butterflies sitting there would eventually be veins from rose bushes drowning out the frame and illuminating the butterflies. “First, my grandmother’s shop, now the only person that I trusted with bringing this vision to life. I feel like I lose everyone.” Not him, but she clenches her jaw not to frighten him.

[teagansmaron]

SPECIAL DELIVERY TO: @blakecastillo​

LOCATION: Blake’s place.

Finishing off the essential details of the nursery is a welcomed distraction ─ as well as needed. Much of the afternoon, both of the cousins exchanged minimal words as they focused on their task or barked at the other to correct what they’re doing. Otherwise, it’s evident both of them are lost in their thoughts. The unexpected loss of Sutton has shaken up the whole town. It feels like everyone has begun to glance over their shoulder, unaware of something could happen next or if another will be taken too soon. Even though John has been making himself at home in her place, his need to protect her caused her to be more alert to her surroundings now. If he’s worried, then so should Teagan. That’s why when the delivery boy from Calliope rings the doorbell, the auburn-haired woman peers out of the peek hole to see who it is before opening the door and checking their surroundings. Afterward, she locked the front door but checked it within a second after almost like Teagan was dreaming of doing something. It’s paranoia, but she’s not trying to let this submerge through. So pushing it down and bringing their order into the kitchen, she wanders back to the completed nursery to see Blake observing, “Took us the whole day, but it looks incredible. He may not see it, but he's gonna love it,” her gentle, songbird falsetto speaks for the first time in a long time. There’s an urge in what to say next, but these two have never been good at not talking. A hand rests on Blake’s shoulder. “How are you feeling? The food’s in the kitchen if you want to head over and get off your feet. I got your favorite.”