🍀

midori   is   ...   taking   a   quick   nap.

[verrdure]

𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗜 𝗗'𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 [arts & crafts instructor @ le petit club] for ileazure. [intro]

[onimpact]

"did  they?"  and  isn't  that  the  problem,  when  he  braves  himself  to  dig  deep  enough  and  unearth  whatever  went  down  between  him  and  midori  those  years  ago?  there  was  never  really  a  conclusion.  no  one  to  say,  the  end.  nothing  that  screamed,  that's  it.  it's  done.  except  someone  had.  he  had  watched  midori's  back  grow  smaller  and  smaller,  hoping  for  her  head  to  turn  —  to  meet  his  eyes  again  over  her  shoulder.  and  she  never  did.

maybe  that's  what  she  meant.  you  don't  always  get  to  say  goodbye.  wasn't  last  season  not  the  same  thing?  he'd  fallen  off  the  bike  and  they'd  taken  him  to  the  medical  center  and  he'd  just—  he  knew.  time  to  kiss  the  rest  of  the  season  goodbye.  he'd  held  onto  the  hope  that  he  can  come  back  stronger  next  season.  looking  at  midori  across  the  table  now,  sam  thinks  that's  what  he  did  wrong  with  her,  too.  he'd  held  onto  that  hope  for  a  little  too  long.  she  can  walk  away  now.  how  long  until  she  comes  back  again?  midori  never  did.  his  fingers  curl  around  the  half  forgotten  menu  book  on  the  table,  tugging  it  closer  to  his  chest.  what  a  sorry  excuse  of  a  shield  it  is.  it's  not  enough  to  cover  his  face,  anyway.  just  a  flimsy  little  cover  held  over  his  heart.

the  words  tumble  out  of  his  mouth  :  "you  never  said  goodbye,  you  know."  she  hadn't  needed  to.  "how  was  i  supposed  to  know  what  you  did  with  my  number?"  you  never  said  anything.  "if  i  didn't  know  better  ..."  he  trails  off  —  leaves  the  sentence  hanging  in  the  air  just  in  time  for  a  waiter  to  stop  by.  sam  turns  his  head.  he  wonders  if  she  knows  how  hard  it  is  to  look  away  from  her,  sometimes.  "a  bottle  of  sake,  please,"  he  tells  the  waiter.  "two  glasses  with  that."

his  eyes  find  midori's  again.  "you  still  drink,  don't  you?"  if  he  pretends  that  he  isn't  samuel  gao  and  she  isn't  midori  d'amore,  maybe  they  can  be  just  two  friends  catching  up.  his  smile  has  no  humour  to  it  when  he  says,  "careful.  i  might  get  the  wrong  impression  here.  you  still  care  enough  to  be  annoyed,  don't  you?"

[verrdure]

Every word he says is an extra wound. Midori was once unfamiliar with the way guilt can curl up in the base of your throat, colouring your every word before you even say them. She misses when she used to talk to Samuel without the words meaning something else, without burying things under the vowels. There is a shovel and one grave between them and she keeps telling herself pick it up. Pick it up pick it up pick it up. She has to keep fighting off the urge to undig.

Did they? Midori's mouth gets stiff from all the fake smiling. You never said goodbye. And the smile slips. Tumbles off her face. She knows. She left the door open hoping it would haunt him, the hole where the goodbye should be. But the ghost goes both ways. How was she supposed to know that? If she was more honest, she might admit she left it that way on purpose. The only reason you don't close a door is because you still want it open, right? Right?

“Guess I thought you'd take the hint with the radio silence.” She shrugs, like it's inconsequential, like she doesn't just miss him, plain and simple. He orders two glasses with his sake and Midori...? Midori is relieved, isn't she? Cruel as it is, stupid as it is, she's glad he decided to sit here. This island used to feel bigger.

Samuel wouldn't be Samuel if he didn't get a reaction out of Midori. It just used to be sweeter, is all. Less complicated. “Yes, I still drink,” she says, and this time she's grinning, and she doesn't care if it strains her cheeks, if it feels too manufactured to be natural. She hopes it looks off on her face. She hopes it scares him a little. When the sake is placed on the table she snatches it up immediately, just to keep him from getting to it first. “I'm not annoyed.” It's a pointless insistence, because when has Midori D'Amore been good at obfuscating? When has Samuel Gao been bad at seeing through her? “Maybe this is just what I'm like now. Maybe you stopped knowing anything about me a long time ago.”

She pours sake for the both of them, and she is smiling.

[verrdure]

[ @moissan1te⁎

Midori eyes the hay bale speculatively. If it looks comfortable... She turns to Bessy, or Betty maybe. Demian can go on about his horses, and Midori isn't always listening as much as she should be. Bessy, she decides. “You wouldn't mind if I snuck in there and took a nap on your hay, would you? I'll only be like an hour, two hours tops.” Bessy blinks at her. Midori pouts, about to cajole Bessy some more before she realises they're not alone. She turns to find Demian standing there, the horse whisperer himself. “Just in time! D, you think I should be allowed to take a nap on some hay too, don't you?”

[meanderes]

afternoon, some random garden

feat. @verrdure

“you’ve  got  to  say  his  name.  stupid  little  man  only  eats  when  you  say  his  name,”  zack  nods  towards  the  only  pigeon  not  feasting  on  the  crumbs.  “or  wait…  does  that  make  him  smart?” 

[verrdure]

To think there'd be a day where one of her babies don't immediately descend on whatever's edible in front of them. And sometimes non-edible. She hasn't forgotten the pebble incident. “Didn't he try to peck your toe off the other day? There's no way he's suddenly smart. C'mon Pichard, here boy.” She tries her best to tempt Pichard into eating, but unlike his sister Pichelle, he's refusing to budge. “No way, you don't think Pichard's becoming a picky eater, do you? Ugh, I bet one of the guests did this. I bet they tossed out some caviar or whatever and it made Pichard's palate all boujee now.”

[comflexxed]

›  closed:  for  midori ( @verrdure )  ›  location:  le  petit  club,  after  5pm

THE  CLUB  HAS  JUST  WRAPPED  UP  FOR  THE  DAY,  and  as  julian  walked  down  the  hallway,  still  drying  his  hair  with  a  towel,  he  noticed  a  few  large,  heavy-looking  boxes  stacked  by  the  arts  and  crafts  door.  the  label  on  top  read  ‘craft  supplies’.  his  gaze  lifted,  landing  on  midori  inside.  he  couldn’t  help  the  way  his  expression  softened  a  little  at  the  sight  of  her.  without  missing  a  beat,  julian  stepped  over  to  the  boxes  and  gave  them  a  quick  glance.  “ whoa,  looks  like  you’ve  got  a  delivery, ”  he  called  out  to  her  before  shifting  the  boxes  with  a  grunt  before  peeking  inside  one  —  everything  seemed  in  order.  “ but  why  do  they  insist  on  sending  boxes  that  weigh  a  ton? ”  he  muttered  under  his  breath,  rolling  his  eyes.  he  knocked  gently  on  the  doorframe  as  he  stepped  inside,  offering  her  a  smile.  “ want  me  to  take  care  of  these  for  you? ”  he  asked,  his  tone  light  and  easy,  but  there  was  a  sincerity  in  his  eyes  as  he  motioned  to  the  boxes.  

[verrdure]

Clean up always takes just a little too long for Midori's liking, her energy having been all but sapped up already, leaving her moving sluggishly through the process of clearing up the room. When Julian shows up by the door talking about the boxes, Midori realises there was something she'd forgotten entirely. “My construction paper! I totally forgot.” She might have ordered a bit too much in fear of not having enough after she realised she was running low on paper. She was worrying too much, clearly, but the kids would've been a right terror if they found out there wasn't enough paper to go around. She still has nightmares about the day they ran out of pipe cleaners. “Would you? Since my arms are so terribly weak...” Midori places the back of her hand against her forehead and acts the part of a frail, sickly young lady. “I could definitely use someone very nice and very strong to help me carry the boxes inside.”

[aureataes]

does   she   fall   for   it?   perhaps   for   a   moment,   though   when   the   other   breaks   into   laughter   so   too   does   ahri.   panic   aside   that   she'd   been   right   with   the   joke,   ahri   just   giggles   with   midori   instead.   how   absurd   that   would   have   been   to   be   right?   "noted,   don't   call   on   you   for   baby   help   in   the   future   then."   she   pretends   to   write   in   a   little   notebook   before   shrugging.   "azure   would   be   a   cute   name   for   a   kid,   i'll   admit   that.   but   a   baby   as   a   mascot?   get   real,   no   way   that's   going   to   happen."

[verrdure]

“If you need me to dogsit though, I'll be there. Winston is so much cuter than any baby we could ever get.” Midori's not even fully lying. She loves her little protégés, even if half of the stuff they end up making look like a colourful mess, but sometimes she does think it would be nicer if they didn't talk as much. Couldn't talk at all, maybe. Had a tail and a bit of fur, even. “Oh, I see how it is. You just want Winston to be the mascot, don't you? C'mon, don't get jealous of an imaginary baby. Winston's the unofficial mascot in my heart.”

[silvercage]

closed starter for —› @verrdure

petit   club   alike   a   second   home   .   .   .   well   ,   or   third   ,   hugo   moves   about   just   as   casually   .   shifting   through   the   remaining   kids   that   haven't   been   picked   up   yet   ,   all   the   while   carrying   arts   and   crafts   supplies   stacked   in   both   hands   .   truly   a   master   of   his   very   own   arts   in   regards   that   are   beyond   even   him   sometimes   .   “   hey   ,   mids   ”   to   which   one   particularly   energized   kid   speeds   through   the   gap   between   his   legs   (   surely   only   fueled   further   by   their   pushed   back   bedtime   )   .   it   takes   a   minor   stumble   and   a   lost   brush   among   the   way   ,   but   hugo   manages   to   reach   destination   .   “   geez   ,   it's   like   trying   to   avoid   mines   .   literally   can't   wait   for   clean   up   time   ”   bright   hues   meet   midori   and   they   smile   before   his   mouth   even   gets   the   chance   to   .   “   anyways   ,   came   here   .   .   .   might   I   say   ,   impressively   fast   for   given   circumstances   ,   to   ask   about   the   marble   paintings   you   made   earlier   .   actually   ,   not   exactly   the   paintings   .   just   .   .   .   the   marbles   ”   a   hefty   sigh   tied   into   the   actions   of   unloading   his   arms   on   the   table   .   “   in   short   .   they   are   gone   and   I   fear   for   davian's   nose   ,   ears   or   .   .   .   well   ”   it   solely   took   a   nod   of   hugo's   head   in   the   general   direction   of   said   kid   in   hopes   midori   would   catch   on   quick   . 

[verrdure]

Hugo's face is a welcome reprieve. It helps that he's an adult, and therefore is largely snot free whenever he comes by. Midori is so tired of crying children and runny noses. Any little thing sets them off, and it always takes a little too long to get them to calm back down. “Hey, Hugs.” She smiles as he drops the boxes off, turning just a little to avoid a collision with the back of her legs. She's beginning to get a sixth sense for these things. “Oh, don't worry about the marbles, I've got 'em.” She leans in closer to him and opens up the front pocket of her apron, showing off a bunch of marbles hidden inside. “I can't put them back in the containers until everyone's gone. Last time I caught Sasha with her hand in one, trying to steal a bunch.” She sighs, just a smidge too dramatically. “For a bunch of rich kids they're getting scarily good at stealing stuff.”

[onimpact]

there’s  an  empty  seat  right  across  midori  staring  at  samuel  and  taunting  him.  doesn’t  matter  that  her  table  is  a  party  of  one.  he’s  not  invited,  but—  the  empty  seat  is  still  there.  if  he  takes  one  step  closer,  he  could  curl  his  fingers  around  the  back  of  it.  yank  it  out  from  under  the  table  and  find  it  waiting  to  be  filled.  he  considers  his  options.

they’re  both  already  here,  aren’t  they?  he  pulls  the  chair  out  of  its  rightful  resting  position  and  slots  himself  in  —  knees  just  lightly  knocking  against  the  wood  of  the  low  table.  apparently  one  step  is  nothing  at  all.  sam’s  eyes  are  still  trained  on  midori  when  he  settles,  leaning  back  again.  it’s  like  a  free  fall.  only  this  time,  the  back  of  the  chair  cushions  it.  “didn’t  know  you  deleted  it,”  he  says,  casual.  there’s  only  a  table  that  sits  between  them,  and  yet.  “i  still  have  yours.”  untouched  since  that  fateful  day,  long  buried  and  forgotten,  but  he  knows  how  to  volley  back  a  challenge  all  the  same.

it’s  like  they’re  at  a  corner  battling  for  the  lead.  it’s  sam  before  the  apex.  thought  you’d  be  more  careful  than  to  end  up  here.  midori  ahead  when  they’re  through  it.  sam  switches  gears  —  accelerates  again,  pulls  ahead  of  midori  once  more.  he  won’t  let  her  win  this  one.  “scared  of  a  little  haunting,  midori?  you  know  what  they  say.”  maybe  he  is  a  ghost.  some  part  of  him  died  with  her.  another  when  he  crashed  in  thailand  for  the  whole  world  to  see.  samuel’s  lips  quirk  into  a  smile.  his  eyes  stay  on  her  even  when  he  raises  his  hand  to  flag  down  a  waiter.  “ghosts  only  haunt  you  when  they  have  unfinished  business.”

[verrdure]

Midori tenses up when Samuel takes the seat opposite her. Gearing up for a fight, or getting ready to run. Either way, it feels like he'll win. So Midori forces her shoulders down, pushes herself into looking relaxed, like none of this matters, like there's not a shovel in her back pocket.

She'd like to not feel guilty anymore. I still have yours. Her mouth twitches. “Oh.” Why couldn't he be mean, instead? Why couldn't he be yelling? If he started a scene she'd have an excuse to leave, she'd have her cue to yell back, to storm off. Instead he's sitting across from her and looking at her like he's waiting for something. Midori prays for an asteroid, or an earthquake, or a million wasps swarming in through the window. Things would be so much easier if they were just two bodies at a table, no names, no faces, no history.

“It's just annoying, is all,” she says, mouth around her bitten down straw. But it is scary, looking at Samuel's face like this, imagining all the ways it could've looked coming back on the ambulance stretcher if things had been just a little bit worse. “Things felt pretty finished to me.” She smiles around the lie. It used to be harder, lying to his face like this. She doesn't feel all that proud about it. “Unless you've got something you need to get off your chest? Might be better to get it out now, incase you eat it on the track again and don't come back next time.” She smiles wider to mask the way her stomach tenses at the thought. Kindness feels so foreign when he's in the room. It didn't used to.

[sangu1neo]

starter 4 @verrdure !

the  thing  about  art  is  that  unless  your  name  is  already  big,  it's  all  about  scouting  potential.     in  haneul's  eyes,  midori  is  nothing  but  potential,  someone  who's  luck  ran  bad  but  who  could  have  been  great.  if  nothing  else,  her  skills  are  useful,  so  he  plays  nice  with  her.  as  nice  as  he  can  be.  “  if  i  say  that  i  find  your  art  lessons  riveting  and  want  to  know  what  you  taught  the  kids  today,  would  you  believe  me  ?  ”

[verrdure]

Midori hikes the sketchbook up higher on her lap and laughs. Clarence III is turning out quite well on the page. She thinks she might frame this sketch of him horking down someone's leftover breakfast sandwich and gift it to Zack. He'd like this one. “Absolutely not,” she replies, shading in the side of Clarence III's face. His pigeonly eyes and pigeonful beak were looking extra pigeonesque this afternoon. “I don't even find my lessons that riveting.” She raises her eyes from her sketch to give Haneul a playful glance. “If you want me to teach you how to fold an origami frog though, I can.”

[fearstreat]

࿐　　located  at the  racquet club ࿐　　closed  for  your muse of choice @4tide @tingedrose @dcydreamz @lookloveds @whodnnit / @verrdure @stupidiots

　　࿐　　despite  her  athleticism  when  it  comes  to  swimming,  the  truth  is  that  it  may  as  well  be  the  only  sport  she's  good  at.  thea  stands  on  one  side  of  the  court,  over  a  dozen  tennis  balls  on  the  opposite  end  littering  the  red  clay  surface.  she  can't  get  the  hang  of  serving  no  matter  how  hard  she  tried,  with  all  her  attempts  either  hitting  the  net  or  going  completely  off  the  white  lines.  “  god  damn  it,  ”  she  mutters  to  herself,  hitting  the  next  ball  with  her  racket,  only  for  it  to  go  into  the  direction  of  someone  walking  in.  “  oh  my  god,  i'm  so  sorry!  ”  thea  exclaims,  dropping  her  racket  as  hands  move  to  cover  her  mouth.  “  are  you  okay?  did  i  hit  you?  ”

[verrdure]

One second, Midori is standing upright, the next there's something flying right at her face. Then she suddenly finds herself sprawled out on the ground, her forehead throbbing. She blinks up at a pretty face as apologies tumble out of her mouth. She's starting to understand what happened. As Midori sits up, she makes a show of looking at her surroundings, as if she's seeing it for the first time, before locking eyes with her attacker again. “I'm fine, I think. Head's just kinda fuzzy. I'm...” She blinks again, slower this time, like she's well and truly confused. “Huh. I can't remember my name. Actually, can't remember where this is either. Weird.”

[destinationfinal]

SERENA MOTOLA Benetton 25 Summer Collection

[badnews]

gio   didn’t   move   when   she   touched   him.   just   stood   there,   letting   her   fingers   ghost   along   his   collar   like   she   had   every   right   to   be   there,   like   they   weren’t   standing   in   the   middle   of   one   of   the   most   well-dressed   rooms   on   the   island,   wrapped   in   champagne   breath   and   bad   decisions   waiting   to   happen.   “ smooth,   huh ? ”   he   echoed,   low   and   easy,   his   grin   slow   to   bloom.   “ right.   you   almost   ate   floor   in   front   of   half   the   azure   elite,   but   sure.   smooth   like   jazz   at   2am. ”

eyes   following   hers   toward   whoever   was   watching   as   he   leaned   in   a   little.   the   club   regulars   always   thought   they   had   gio   pegged.   the   charming   bartender   with   just   enough   accent,   just   enough   mystery.   but   if   they   were   smart,   they’d   know … midori   was   the   real   distraction.   “ let   ’em   look.   they’ll   live. ”

her   pout   hit,   and   gio   huffed   a   soft   laugh   through   his   nose,   head   tilting,   eyes   running   over   her   frame   in   a   slow,   deliberate   drag.   no   shame,   no   hiding.   just   letting   it   all   hang   out   there   between   them,   hot   and   unspoken.   “ you   do   look   good   in   that   dress,   mimi, ”   he   said   finally,   voice   gone   a   little   rougher   now,   thumb   skimming   along   the   side   seam   of   her   waist   like   he   might   trace   the   whole   silhouette   if   no   one   was   watching.   “ but   you   look   better   when   it’s   on   my   floor. ”

he   pulled   back,   just   enough   to   let   the   words   settle,   then   flashed   her   a   grin   that   was   pure   danger   and   dimples.   “ now   be   honest.   you   gonna   keep   teasing   me   all   night,   or   do   i   get   to   return   the   favor ? ”

[verrdure]

Flames lick up the inside of her belly, fuelled by jealousy and other nastier, dirtier things. It's not about possession. Gio is beautiful and charming and right here under her hands, there's not much more to it. It's just a little annoying seeing other people eyeing her food like that.

She runs her hands over his shoulders next, brushing off some non-existent dust. It feels a bit like she's putting on a performance now, pulling off some elaborate mating dance just to get Gio to follow her home later. The woman who had been sizing up Gio turns away with a bitter set to her shoulders. Midori smiles to herself. Her mother always warned her not to play with her food, but how could she resist when it's this fun?

Gio's got a knack for playing along too. Coming close only to pull away, his touch practically burning through the fabric of her dress. She snorts when he calls her Mimi, but it's a testament to his charm that it doesn't shatter the moment. “Baby's okay. Darling, sugar. Cupcake, even. So no on the 'Mimi', 'kay?” She presses a little closer, until they're chest to chest, but just to boop him on the nose; though she makes no effort to move away after.

“Teasing? Me? Never,” she purrs. “But if you want to return the favour, I'm sure I can take it.”

A girl's gotta eat.

[lookloveds-deactivated20250624]

security   and   privacy   were   things   that   eurydice   treasured   in   her   life,   god   forbid   a   rabid-fan   convinced   that   she   was   secretly   in   love   with   them   or   her   ex   (   they   could   try,   maybe   she   would   even   punch   first   )    try   to   attack   the   film   director.   not   like   previous   incidents   were   serious   enough   to   start   having   to   keep   and   active   eye   out   -   but   it   was   always   good   to   at   least   be   prepared.   “   say,   how   many   bodyguards   are   too   much?   four?   five?   two?   seven?   ”   dark   optics   are   focused   on   nearby   passerby   /   victim   now,   waiting   for   an   answer. 

    𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗉 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋… @unscr1pted @ofidrissi @4tide @dcydreamz @whodnnit / @verrdure @badnews

[verrdure]

As soon as Miss Richie Rich opens her mouth, Midori twists her lips up into that blithe smile she reserves for parents who like to come bother her personally about their kids, going on about how he's wearing Gucci so if it gets stained that's coming out of your paycheck and if you see her getting angry please stop her before she bites someone, I can't handle another apology payout. As soon as the question leaves her lips though, Midori relaxes a fraction. A guest is a guest, but at least she isn't asking Midori to hold her bags or pick up after a tiny dog with the manners of a feral raccoon. “Oh, I don't think there can ever be too many bodyguards. I'd go with a nice twelve. A good, even number.” After Midori says this, completely serious as if she isn't just messing with her, she leans in like she's sharing something confidential. “I've seen a lot of the bodyguards sitting around crying when people don't hire them, so take some pity on them, pretty please?”

[onimpact]

he  could've  walked  back  out.  would  she  have,  had  the  roles  been  reversed?  would  that  have  made  her  braver  or  more  cowardly?  samuel  exhales.  he's  not  sure  he  wants  to  know  the  answer.

instead  his  feet  move  at  their  own  accord,  carrying  him  closer  to  midori.  they're  almost  at  touching  distance  now,  eyes  still  locked  on  each  other.  why  hasn't  she  looked  away  first?  why  hasn't  he?  three  years  feels  like  almost  no  time  at  all  when  he  remembers  who  they  used  to  be.

"you  could've  called,"  he  says,  because  if  she's  going  to  say  the  first  thing  that  lands  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue,  he  can  do  the  same.  "or  come  to  see  me.  i've  been  around."  but  you  knew  that  already,  goes  unsaid.  month  after  month  after  month  on  this  island  and  somehow  he's  only  ever  caught  sight  of  midori  on  the  opposite  end  of  the  room  —  on  one  occasion  too  many  for  it  to  be  a  coincidence.  samuel  leans  back  on  his  heels,  and  he  wonders  yet  again  why  he  hasn't  walked  away.  maybe  it  has  something  to  do  with  the  way  that  midori  thinks  he's  here  on  vacation  making  his  throat  feel  tight.  his  arms  fold  over  his  chest.  a  pause,  and  then,  "does  it  look  like  i'm  here  on  vacation?  thought  you  knew  me  better  than  that."

[verrdure]

Midori has never had to dig a real grave. But she digs small ones all the time, arranges small funerals for those little deaths that aren't deaths at all — but have left something behind to bury anyway. Just one single mourner and her cemetery of little dead things.

There's a monument erected in the centre for Samuel. This huge, ostentatious thing made out of stone that's sometimes an angel and othertimes a gargoyle. You could've called, comes out of the gargoyle's mouth. Midori wraps her fingers — clean and unstained with soil — around her glass and takes a sip. The thing about burying something yourself is that you know you could just as easily dig it back up. “Did you want me to?” She tosses back, like this is a game now. Ping pong. Let's see who cracks first. “You'll have to give me your number again if you do.” She whacks the ball across the table with her paddle, but does she lose or gain a point for lying?

Thought you knew me better than that. Point Samuel. “Thought you'd be more careful than to end up here.” Maybe the worst part of this is that she bought herself the shovel. She bought herself the shovel and she put on her mourning dress and she worries anyway. She keeps wandering around the island like she's hoping she'll catch a glimpse of him, just to make sure he's still whole, as if she has anything to give if she finds him hurting. She's already built him a coffin. “You're like a ghost,” she says. Has he thrown a funeral for her too? Or is there still some breath left for them in his head? “You keep haunting me.”

[verrdure]

[ @unscr1pted⁎

The world shouldn't be this small.

Midori makes it a habit to watch, like any second now her star-crossed something might be walking through the door to sweep her off her feet. So when he comes in, she's already looking. She surprises herself with the flicker of affection, the gut reaction that comes hand in hand with the familiarity before the reason kicks in and it sours in her mouth.

She doesn't look away in time. Something flares up when they lock eyes, something bitter sinking into her stomach. The anger and guilt pair unfairly well together. Should she say hello? How have you been? Sometimes I wish you could still remember me as I used to be and not as I am now. How are your parents?

“I thought you'd look worse,” she blurts. There's something terrible about how Samuel he still looks, how she remembered him just right. “Must be nice to just go on vacation whenever you want.”

[friendlyghst]

each  day  on  the  island  anika  learns  just  how  unconventional  her  upbringing  was.  what  do  you  mean  not  everyone  had  the  ability  to  have  their  own  personality  petting  zoo  at  their  5th  birthday  ?  “  instead  my  mom  made  it  some  stuffy  tea  party  theme  …  i  think  she  just  wanted  to  be  able  to  invite  some  old  actress  to  network  or  something,  ”  hand  waving  in  front  of  her  face,  she  remembers  crying  into  her  earl  grey  petit  fours.  head  quirks  to  the  side  considering  the  other's  words,  “  maybe  if  they  put  the  magician  in  like  a  chanel  suit  …  would  be  a  classy  spin  on  it.  pitch  it  for  the  next  party.  ”

[verrdure]

Midori nods. Old actress. Networking. Mhm, mhm, mhm. If she thinks about it in a detached sense, it's sort of funny. Better it be funny than a cause for envy, anyway. She's walked that road once, she'd not like to walk it again. “Networking at a kid's birthday party... don't know if I'm jealous or if I feel sorry for you.” She laughs. The only thing she'll actually feel sorry for is the state of Anika's career right now. “Is the top hat they pull the rabbit out of not classy enough already? Shaking my head,” Midori says, as she shakes her head. “I don't think they'll ever take my suggestions. I asked for a bouncy castle last time, you know, for the kids, and Chantal left me on read.”

[vellichorz]

he  shifts  a  little  under  her  weight,  giving  his  shoulder  a  gentle  shake  like  he’s  trying  to  rouse  a  sleepy  kitten.  “no  no  no,  we’re  not  fading  already,”  he  protests.  “you  didn’t  get  all  dressed  up  and  came  all  the  way  here  just  to  wilt  in  a  corner  like  a  sad  little  sea  widow.  croissant  would  be  so  disappointed,”  he  murmurs,  half  a  laugh  in  his  voice. he  tilts  his  head  toward  the  bar,  then  nudges  midori  lightly  with  his  arm.  “the choice of  music is  kinda  bringing me down  though.  come  on,  let's  get  something  to  drink  and  have  a  little  fun!”

[verrdure]

She's actually pretty sure Croissant would appreciate a nap in the middle of all this more than anyone else, but she lets Ansel convince her otherwise anyway, agreeing with a groan.

Midori takes off in the direction of the bar, this time tugging Ansel along with her as if it was her idea. She tells the bartender, “one sex on the beach, please.” Then, to Ansel, “think we could trick the DJ into leaving the booth? I bet if I put some Pitbull on, this party would really get crazy.”