ɴᴏᴛ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇᴛᴛᴇ.

leave the past where it belongs. vienna o'clair. thirty-two. witch.

[viennaoclair]

waylon:

There was no greater pain to inflict on Waylon than not just to know Vienna was in pain, but to bear witness to it. Just by the state of her, the man knew the woman had been crying for days, as much was evident in her appearance, and the very sight knocked the wind from his lungs. “Vee…” He’d quickly recover, slapping on a reassuring smile as he accepts her offer to step inside. “You been eating?” The witch cocks a brow, and now satisfied by the answer she hadn’t even began to give, he’s kicking off his shoes by the door, pausing as he lingered in close proximity to the woman for a moment longer.

“How about some grilled cheese and soup, huh?” Waylon offers, hands gripping over his arms as he leans in, lips pressing to her forehead. “I’ll stay awhile.” The man promises softly, letting that half-embrace linger for a moment as he stared into her eyes, as if assessing that she’d been up to nothing more than sobbing upon her sofa since he’d brought her home post-apocalyptic event. In the cool confines of her apartment, Waylon helps himself to the pantry and kitchen, gathering the necessary supplies to provide her with a sub-par meal made with love.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He’d state readily and with a faint smile. “You know you kiss a guy and you ignore him… Not very promising.” Waylon laughs it off, as if it hadn’t stirred panic in his heart. Instead he clatters around for a pan, turning on the gas stove. As he shifts to rummage for cheese and butter within the fridge, he considers his next words carefully. “I know there’s a lot more going on than just that. What you - we went through…” Waylon wouldn’t delve into the horrors that had unfolded on his way to her, only that’d he do it all over again, for a lifetime and then some, to ensure she was safe.

“It’s okay you haven’t bounced back. I just wish you’d talk to me about how you’re feeling. We’ll always be friends.” The man promises, dropping a piece of butter into the pan and watching it slowly melt. And wasn’t that what this was between them? A slow burn? God, how fucking slow was it going to be? “I guess I shouldn’t have…” He gesticulates idly. “You just want to be friends. You have Gabe. I’m sorry.” He smiles meekly. “It was the heat of the moment.”

Waylon had quickly accepted her offer to step inside, and Vee shut the door behind him. From here, there was no hiding anything from the man. Her expression, her stature- all of these things were easily discernable- especially by someone who knew her so well. "Of course I have." She lied, the soft roll of her eyes surely giving her away. "But..." Vienna rocked gently on her heels, fingers twisting together at her waist. "I am not opposed to some catering." She did her best to keep from leaning into the man's embrace, though she wanted nothing more than to absorb what comfort he had to offer. Hazy eyes soon adverted to the floor, and the woman brushed a stubborn hair from her face before she treaded back across the creaky floor into her living room. From her place in the center of the couch, she had an easy view of the kitchen. Vienna's apartment was cozy, with an open concept living space (though her bedroom was tucked away). "Maybe I have been." She admitted, readily, knees pulled tight against her chest while curious pools watched Waylon cook. "I was afraid—" A groan catches in her throat because there are so many things that teeter along the tip of her tongue. Vee breathes, heat rising in her cheeks. "That you'd be upset with me." Not entirely untrue. With her chin pressed to her knees, Vienna watched Waylon closely; cerulean pools trained on his every movement. She can smell the butter starting to simmer in the pan. The sound of the sizzle is unsuccessful in distracting her. The woman's heart aches. Her soul. All of these secrets and half-truths between her and the people she cared about are at the forefront of her mind. She can't stop thinking about how close she'd come to dying, no matter how hard she tried. Now she's grappling with the aftermath, and how exactly she's supposed to process all of these... Feelings. She's not coping very well.

Vee can feel the warmth of fresh tears threaten the corners of her eyes. "Can you just... Just stop saying things like that?" The words sprung loose with more snap than she'd intended, "You don't always have to be so understanding." Vienna is deflecting, hard, though she feels powerless against it. "Doesn't anything ever bother you?" Bright hair falls freely around her legs as she allowed her head to fall, forehead pressed to her knees. “How can you just be... okay?” She’d whisper, unsure if he’d heard her or not.

[waylon--hughes]

@viennaoclair

Waylon had imagined what kissing Vienna would be like if he ever got a second chance to do it. The first time was drunken, sloppy, and one of the party’s couldn’t recall it had ever occurred. But the second time? Waylon would get it right. He wouldn’t hesitate, he wouldn’t let there be the opportunity for minced words or mixed signals. Vienna O’Clair would damn well know just how much he loved her, and that would be that. Instead the second time wasn’t a second chance, not when he hadn’t, in his wildest dreams, expected the kiss to come from Vienna.

He didn’t know if she was still alive as he ravaged zombie after zombie with Harlan Johnson’s old shotgun, when he turned up at the projection tower covered in guts and blood, desperate calls out into the darkness until he was met with grateful limbs leaping into his arms, desperate lips pressed to his. At first neither party could believe their luck despite it all, they’d both survived, but more so… Vienna knew Waylon had fought hordes of the dead to make his way to her, and there they were, mouths mashed together in an embrace that lasted shockingly too long.

She’d played it off, and Waylon had let her in that moment. He was exhausted, relieved finally, and after a long hot shower, he’d convinced himself it couldn’t mean anything. And then silence enveloped him, texts left on read, phone calls unanswered, a no-show at the Witching Hour. Waylon was concerned not only for her well-being but for their friendship. Had she truly regretted the kiss? He didn’t know, and was perhaps too cowardly to ever ask outright, but paramount to any of that was his need to secure their friendship. Because, at the end of the day, Waylon could live with the idea that Vienna only wanted to be friends, so long as she was in his life, he’d be happy.

Knuckles would wrap at her apartment door - once, twice… “Vienna?” He called out. “It’s me.”

As if she wouldn’t know the voice, but he wondered… The last time she’d heard it he was haggard sounding, desperate and heartbroken and relieved, and when they’d kissed only half a moment later he’d held her body against his, refusing to let that perfect embrace end despite all circumstance. And perhaps… Perhaps that was precisely why she’d blown him off. She hadn’t meant for it go any further than a peck, a platonic kiss and nothing more - and Waylon had violated that.

And now he had to reap what he’d sown.

[viennaoclair]

Vienna couldn't pretend like she hadn't thought about that moment a hundred times since it'd happened. When Waylon had appeared in the projection tower, she was beside herself with elation. Until that moment, she'd managed to convince herself that every single person she'd known and loved was dead. Her father, Shiloh, Violette even. Waylon tiptoed across her mind more than once that evening, and she couldn't grapple with the idea that the last things they'd said to each other had been in an argument. Then, he'd showed up, and Vee wasted no time in jamming a wrench into the cogs of their relationship. It's been days since then, and she'd been back and forth between work and home, and very few placed in between. The woman had kept in near constant contact with Noel, under the guise that she'd merely been worried about him. The truth was that she'd become scared of being alone. Every noise that she heard or change in the atmosphere put her on edge. She kept her windows closed. Apartment locked up tight. Still, the woman was having a hard time moving past what had happened. Vee didn't want to see anyone, but most importantly, she'd been avoiding Waylon. She couldn't handle having to explain away what happened. Didn't want to have to look him in the eye and lie. When it came down to it, Vienna would never have the gall to tell him exactly how she felt. But she knew that it was only a matter of time before he'd demand her attention. So she shouldn't have been all too surprised when he'd showed up, knocking on her door with a simple request: let me in. Most of that day had been spent curled up on her couch buried in blankets, despite the humidity that June brought. Purple shadows formed around her eyes from the lack of rest. Even though she no longer spent hours crying to herself, it was impossible to hide the red, swollen rings around her cornflower hues. Sufficed to say, she was a mess. Still, she threw the blankets off of her and wandered to the front door, pausing only momentarily before she finally threw it open. "Waylon, hi." Vee painted a smile across her face, taking a step back as she opened the door wider, "Come inside. It's hot out there."

[viennaoclair]

meredithadley‌:

Quinn’s had become somewhat of a place of refuge for Meredith in her most recent times of sorrow — after everything that had happened with Caleb, the woman had gone on what could only be described as an emotional bender. She had spent more nights intoxicated than sober and, now that the two were in a better place, Meredith found herself drinking to help aid with different problems. Tonight she had stepped into the bar at the request of her friend Vienna, a stunning blonde woman that Meredith would always make time for — especially if it meant she could get away from the long hours spent doing overtime at her office. So, coming straight from her place of work, she moved into the bar with her glasses still on and her bag still in her hand.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Meredith quipped as she stepped through the crowd to the woman she was meeting, knowing it was her as she had been able to smell her perfume from the moment she stepped into the open space. Taking a seat next to her, the bag found the floor and her glasses were moved to the top of her head — knuckles rubbing her tired eyes easily. “Literally, sore eyes. Fuck, I’m going to go blind from staring at papers all day.” She added easily.

Vienna offered a grin that was reserved for very few people; those of her friends that she was closest to. Meredith was one of her so-called ride or die's, and she was always glad to have her on her side. Sometimes the blonde needed reminding that there was plenty of space in the world for women who spoke their mind and demanded nothing less than what they wanted. In many ways, she looked up to her, but she didn't need to say it out loud. Vee suspected that the other woman always knew. 

"I don't know how you do it." She eyed her friend sympathetically, sliding two of the shots down the bar until they'd settled easily in front of her. "Some days I can barely handle serving beer to drunks." The woman shook her head, grasping the shot glass by the rim and shaking it gently in the air. "Here's to-" She paused, a look of consideration crossing her expression, "Drinking enough to forget all the bullshit, if only for a few hours."

[viennaoclair]

@meredithadley

It was difficult finding people that she felt comfortable enough to share her feelings with. Not just her emotional feelings, but the physical ones as well. Ever since the first night she'd slept in her own bed after the bonfire, she'd had trouble sleeping. It was difficult to keep food down. Vee almost felt like she was slowly going out of her mind. All she could think about was how close she'd come to dying, and how she'd almost lost every single one of the people she couldn't live without. There were no more tears left for her to cry, so she'd started supplementing with a shot of whatever she could sneak between customers. The woman had the night off, so she'd decided it was as good a time as ever to seek out one of her friends. Shiloh had been busy at the bar, and she... Wasn't ready to face Waylon just yet. While she did text Gabe, she hadn't heard back, and she was desperate for company... Now. Vienna knew that Meredith would always make time for her, and vice versa. So she made her way to Quinn's, which was the first place she could think to look for her. "Two tequila's. Please." She held up two fingers to the bartender, who'd eyed her somewhat suspiciously, but poured her the drinks none the less. Looking over her shoulder, she spotted Meredith across the room, and a grin split her lips before she'd added- "Better make it four."

[viennaoclair]

@violxtte

It had been a long time since Vienna and her sister had had any kind of discernable conversation. It wasn't for lack of trying. The two of them had a difficult time... Clicking. Vee had always suspected that it had more to do with the number of years without any contact, and the shades of resentment that had built up between them. For a long time, the woman didn't even know how to contact her sister, aside from making her way down to her shop and speaking to her face to face. But that was too much at once. She couldn't handle the idea. Vee had her phone number now. Actually— she'd had it for quite a while. Having never built up the courage to use it, the blonde had started to give consideration to a number of things since she'd experienced some semblance of the end of the world. The zombie invasion and a number of dead had her swallowing her pride rather quickly. A relatively slow night at work had her sitting atop the bar with her phone out, teeth working her lesser lip mindlessly as her thumb hovered over the send button. Before long, she'd screwed her eyes shut and sent the text off- well on it's way to Violette. Vienna: It's Vee. Can we meet somewhere soon?

[viennaoclair]

waylon-hughes‌:

“Vienna.” Waylon was clearly taken aback by her tone and demeanor, a frown etching his features. “When have we ever been dishonest with one another?” He inquires, teeth chewing his cheek as he new how many secrets he kept from her. But it was for the best, wasn’t it? Shaking his head, his hands shove themselves into his pockets as he sucked in a short breath through his nostrils, exhaling through his mouth before he’d look to the blonde again. “Kara came to the vineyards a few days back, and she kept pressing me to go on a blind date, and I told her I wasn’t interested, but she kept pressing and so I… I gave in, alright? I didn’t want to be a dick. I figured, least of anything, it’d be a nice conversation.”

The man sucks in another breath, biting back the words he wanted to say first. I was hoping it was you. But it wasn’t - it was Violette, and apparently, he’d committed a cardinal sin in having a friendly conversation with her twin sister. “I had no idea it was going to be her, okay? I swear. It was just a friendly conversation, there was some guy there she didn’t want to talk to, so I hung around for more than a handshake.” Frankly, Waylon was bewildered by the shift in moods from the woman opposite him. It was rare Vienna O’Clair was ever in a bad mood - she was as radiant as a ray of sunshine in Waylon’s presence, and suddenly, he was getting the cold shoulder, something he’d never experienced before. “Did I do something wrong, Vee? Just tell me. I’m sorry.”

She stopped, digging her heels into the ground beneath her as her jaw set. Vienna wasn't mad, the woman rarely allowed such emotion to overwhelm her, but she wouldn't be so bold as to try and verbally describe what she was feeling. Not with Waylon calling her out like this— in the middle of a cornfield with a fire burning in the background. It's flames cast shadows across his profile, dancing over the two of them as they mocked her bitterness, and somehow it managed to deepen her scowl. When have we ever been dishonest with one another? The idea that they'd kept secrets from one another sullied her expression, though she knew there were many things that she'd been reluctant to share with Waylon... ever. "A date." Vee hadn't barely entertained the idea, but now her quandaries ignited beneath her irritation. "You know how I feel about her." There's no point in trying to rationalize her grief. "A date." She repeated, as though it weren't gut-wrenching enough the first time. "With my sister." Nimble fingers move to brush long blonde strands from her face. Vienna doesn't want to elaborate any further on why she's upset. She can tell Waylon is confused, and if she's being honest, so is she. "I--" A soft pause, with bright pools moving over his face once again, "-Should go find Gabe." The woman adverts her gaze, turning on her heel finally. "Enjoy your date."

[viennaoclair]

noelmikkelsen‌:

Still assisting with moving the furniture to barricade the house, Noel nearly missed the muffled buzz from his phone. He fumbled for it, shaking hands almost dropping it when he the caller ID popped up. Noel answered hurriedly, cupping his free hand to his ear to block out the noise around. 

“Vee?” His daughter’s voice came through in between sizzles of static, but not enough to make out any full words. “Vee? Are you- Blast,” Noel spat, pulling the phone away against his palm to check the service before raising it back to his ear, just in time to catch her voice coming through, clear and sparking with panic. Dad? “Vee, oh thank god, can you hear me? Breathe, honey. Ye- Yes, I’m okay. Wh-where are you? Are you somewhere safe? Are there others with you right now?” He asked, unknowingly pacing the floor.

It's hard to explain the relief that washes over her when she hears her fathers voice come through the phone. It's almost enough to set her to tears, but she wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her overcome. "Thank God. I'm okay, I'm--" Vee pauses long enough to finally take a look around. She'd given the route very little consideration as she ran up the stairs to take solace inside. "Somewhere near the drive-in." Cornflower pools settle over the movie projector, still rolling, though she takes an immediate step forward to yank the power cord from the wall. "The projector stand. There are others here, but not many. I don't know how long we'll be able to keep those... Things... Out? What are they? There was so much blood..." Her gaze shifts, moving over the bodies of the people who'd taken shelter with her. "Have you seen..." Vienna paused, brow creased as she considered her father's priorities. "I love you. Please don't be reckless. I know people need saving but I need you. Okay?"

[mrdevlinclery-blog]

Location: Projection Tower Open To: Anyone

“I, for one, think we should all come together and embrace the impending bloodshed that is no doubt on the horizon.” Surely his words were providing absolutely no assistance to the sheer terror which had overtaken the vast majority, the stifled groans of the dead only fueling their fear. His gun had long since run out of ammunition and without a surefire way to evade the swarm and replenish it, Dev relegated himself to acceptance that either Zeke would arrive to assist or this was potentially the end of the Clery lineage. He couldn’t imagine many would mourn it, himself included. “Anybody still have popcorn?”

[viennaoclair]

Vienna was having a difficult time masking the panic in her voice, even if she did manage to retain some outward sense of composure. The woman paced back and forth, phone clutched tight between her fingers— surrendered to the fact that there was no one to call. She wondered if Talisa knew what was happening, if she’d had any hand in it, or if she’d still been alive to try and fix it. Vee herself was barely adept in her skill, able to light fires with the proper enchantments or fuss with locks, but was hardly capable of fighting off a horde of zombies. 

“Your sense of humor is refreshing.” The blonde snapped, sarcasm laced throughout each word. “Why don’t you wander down to the refreshments tent and see what you can scrounge up? Extra butter for me. I’m sure tall and broody over there would love some raisinetes.” 

[waylon--hughes]

// closed start for @viennaoclair // TIME: 10:45PM

Waylon hated to see Vienna upset, for any reason, whatsoever. And just as he’d made her out in the crowd as he chatted amiably with her twin sister, he could have sworn the expression she wore was one of devastation, even if he only saw a flash of it. “Vee -” He’d chase her through the throngs of people, brows knit in concern and confusion. “Hey, hey.” He’d finally grasp at her wrist, beseeching the woman to stop and talk to him. “That wasn’t - you know I wouldn’t - why are you upset?”

[viennaoclair]

Vienna can't quite explain the rush of emotion that overtakes her when she sees Waylon with Violette. At first, it's really nothing. Some confusion; perhaps a twitch of irritation. But her stomach churns, and all she feels is a sudden onset of sickness. The laughter that they share, however friendly, disgusted her. Violette's flaxen hair mimicked her own, and so did the softness in her eyes. So did her smile. To see Waylon carrying on in conversation with this person that she'd detested so hotly nearly angered her, and for whatever reason she felt... Jealous. The man catches her gaze, and immediately Vee begins to move in the opposite direction. She's off to find Shiloh. Or Gabe. Or anyone who isn't Waylon, but she doesn't get far before he's caught up with her. "What." She snapped indignantly, rolling her shoulder as she snatched her wrist from his grasp. "I'm not upset." Vee lied through her teeth, paying no mind to the fact that he'd know right away. "Why would I be upset? I’m trying to enjoy my evening, just like you are.” And maybe there’s a little more venom interlaced with those words than she’d intended. “You don’t have to check in on me. I’m a big girl."

[viennaoclair]

Vienna fumbles with her phone, her fingers shaking as she dialed the number in a hurry. There’s blood on the very tips of them, and she’s sure (but not certain) that it doesn’t belong to her. The woman can’t stop for a moment to fathom, as she’s too busy trying to get a call out. The network, as one might expect, is jammed. Every time she hits send she gets a busy signal. But she is relentless and, eventually, the line begins to ring. 

“Dad?” Vee hears a click come over the receiver. She is panic-stricken, as much is evident in her voice. “Oh my god.” Her voice trembles. “Are you okay? Where are you? Please tell me you’re alright.” [ @noelmikkelsen ]

[viennaoclair]

Voicemail → 📱

From Vienna O'Clair [ 11;58 PM]: Damn I really wish you'd answered. God, I hope you're okay. If you get this, I managed to make it to the projection tower. I think we're safe for now, but I don't know what to do. Just... Be smart. Keep yourself safe. Please.

[bennettdelaney-blog]

Location: Harlan Johnson’s Cornfield.

Who: Anybody, surprise me.

Community social events were often an iffy subject for a man like Bennett Delaney. Despite the fact that he had been living in Blackvale for more than a year, the man was still struggling to find his place in the town outside of the hospital — this was made especially hard by the fact that, in most cases, he spent the majority of his time at work or thinking about being at work. He had developed the mindset in his early twenties that, at the end of the day, his work ethic was one thing that he could continue to improve on. It could only get better than the day before he had decided and, with a bit of luck and patience, everything had worked out for him well so far.

Blackvale was definitely a step in a different direction for the man, his high-end suits and lavish lifestyle not meshing overly well with the general vibe that the town gave off. But, ultimately, this was where the man was to build a life for the next couple of years — at the very least until he finished his fellowship and was offered a position elsewhere. And so, with that in mind, the practicing doctor would find himself parking his father’s old (and rather beaten up) truck just outside of the event as he stepped out. He had opted for a more casual look, the dress shirt being left behind and replaced with a navy colored shirt, the sleeves rolled up for the sake of aesthetic. Hands in pockets, the man moved toward the event, giving a pleasant nod and crooked smile to a few passersby.

“So tell me, what should I check out first? It’s my first of these kinds of shindigs.” Bennett murmured to the person standing beside him, someone who seemed to be trying to decide where to go in a similar fashion to how he was.

[viennaoclair]

In truth... Vienna couldn't figure out where to focus her attention, or which group of people she'd wanted to socialize with first, or even more. She was enjoying her time with Gabe but needed to spend some time with Shiloh. On top of that, she'd have been kicking herself in the ass all night had she not sought out Waylon to check in on him. What's more— her father had been dodging her texts, which surely meant he had not had a proper dinner before proposing his attention to a cornfield full of drunken Blackvalers. Honestly- when had Vienna turned into the 'mom friend'? Slipping away, she'd grabbed herself a red plastic cup, filling it with whatever murky substance poured from the large kegs. It was beer of some sort, and it didn't really matter which kind. It was all disgusting, but she'd choke it down all the same. "Ugh." She muttered, her eyes nearly watered as she took a large chug of the drink. "Sorry, what?" Vee rubs the remnants of the beer off on the back of her hand. "I serve hundreds of these a night and I'll still never understand how people stomach this stuff." With a soft shake of her head, she turned to face the man, the flames from the bonfire flickering over his face. It's just enough for her to realize she doesn't recognize him. "Oh, you probably weren't talking to me." A soft smile cracks her lips, cerulean hues widening, "Or maybe you were... Uh, never mind me. My head is all over the place." 

[viennaoclair]

evelynxbrooks‌:

“Take it as a compliment, I also mentioned that you look like you need a friend. Miserable people often do.” Plucking the lighter from her acquaintance’s grasp, she offered up some semblance of an olive branch— or at least, her own version. “If you didn’t agree, then I doubt you’d actually be giving me what I asked for.” With that, she tossed the little blue device back to Vienna as features spread into a rather sly smile. “Few things are my first time, beautiful.”

The blonde shrugged, not having much by way of argument in return. Vee had learned quickly that her response this kind of rapport often ended in elevated voices and arguments. She could only assume that this was how this woman elected to communicate with other people and that it wasn't a personal attack on her. How else could she have been so cavalier? Vienna, as usual, remained a bartender, skipping over the bits and pieces that she'd considered to be bait. "I gave you what you asked for because you needed it." The smile that played on her lips was forced. Her own brand of sarcasm. "You're welcome, by the way." And she tucked the lighter back into her pocket once Evelyn had returned it to her. "How'd you wind up on this end of town, anyway?" Vienna gave her surroundings a quick glance, noting it's run-down excuse for a corner of Blackvale. "I'd think you could do much better than lurking around the dives on University Mile." The woman turned her sea-foam hues back to Evelyn.

[viennaoclair]

waylon-hughes‌:

Waylon loved that Vienna felt at home in his condo - because the man certainly felt similarly in her apartment. Just as she knew every nuance of his space he knew all of hers, even if he’d much rather memorize every inch of her skin instead. But that was neither here nor there, not as Vienna reappeared in his living room wearing more of his clothes than he had on. A chuckle bursts from his lungs and a grin splits his lips.

In the time she’d disappeared to ready herself he’d managed to prep a bowl of popcorn, M&Ms poured in because there was simply no other way to have popcorn, and the tea kettle was slowly rumbling to a boil in the kitchen. “What’s mine is yours, always.” Waylon dismisses with a smile, instead slipping the bowl into her hands. “I can go and take a look for it, if you think it’s worth it. Maybe you just let it in the car, you know? Either way, it can be replaced.” His hands would then plan themselves on her arms, rubbing up and down as if to conduct heat. “Find everything you needed?” An ever hopeful glimmer in caramel hues, he’d eventually let his hands fall away, one lifting to whisk a hand through his own damp hair. “I’m just going to go and grab a shirt.”

A slight jog to his pace, it was only a moment later he’d be sliding a t-shirt over his head to the sound of the kettle reaching a full boil as the steam billowed and caused it to whistle. “Honey, right?” Already knowing the answer, it was almost second nature for Waylon to tend to Vienna without another thought. “Sorry, Vee, you mentioned your car, what exactly happened? Do you want me to take a look when the rain quits? I’d be happy to. In the meantime, you can borrow my car if you need it. You know work’s in walking distance for me anyway.”

Still rambling, he’d reappear with the tea and a wider smile than before. “But while you’re here, just stay awhile. Let’s watch a movie or something.”

The sentiment brings a smile to her lips, and she's eager to take the bowl of popcorn and launch herself onto the couch. She was dry now. Warm. Significantly less grumpy than she had been when she'd wandered in, although it would have been next to impossible to tell. It'd always been easy for her to disguise her disdain, though Waylon was one of the few who always seemed to be able to tell. "No, no. Don't. It's just a phone, I replace it in a week or so." She nodded, assuringly, "You've done enough already. Not only have you provided me with your nicest old and raggedy's," she'd tease, "but your popcorn? With M&M's? What did I ever do to deserve you?" And just as he'd excused himself, Vee wanders around the bulk of the couch while Waylon disappeared around the corner. She'd plop herself down onto the thick, cozy cushion with her legs crossing as they curled around the bowl in her lap. Idly, she'd start picking at the candies in the bowl, decidedly eating the red ones first, because they're her favorite color and she's a bit of a child. The tea kettle starts to boil, and Waylon's reappearance is all it takes to recapture her attention. "I... Don't actually know." She'd confess, nodding along as seafoam hues watched him pour honey into her tea. "There was all this smoke, and then my speedometer just quit." Just thinking about it frustrated her, as much was evident by her tone. "And I never have service through there. Go figure. It's like, being trapped in this ridiculous town isn't enough." The statement wasn't entirely fair. For a brief moment, Vienna reflected on the nice things about Blackvale, as her gaze flickered to Waylon's form, now closing in on her with their teacups. "I'm just going to call a tow and be done with it. Oh, speaking of, can I use your phone to call?" Vee scooted over just a little, enough to give Waylon all the room that he needed. "You'd have a hard time getting me to leave now, Way. I'm at the mercy of one tacky pair of shorts, and a drenched pair of shoes." Vienna waved a hand over her form, "Maybe if it wasn't pneumonia city out there. My magic can only do so much." With a slight cant of her head, she'd turn to catch the bright coloring of a woven blanket draped across the back of the couch. Mindlessly, she'd press the popcorn bowl back into Waylon's hands, leaning into him as she snatched the blanket up and unfolded it. "Well, come on then, grab the remote and get over here!" She jerked her head with a laugh. "You didn't think I'd make you sit over there all by your lonesome, Mr. Beauregard-Hughes?" There's a sarcastic sort of emphasis on his 'fancy' name, a jest she'd teased him with often.

[viennaoclair]

endless moodboards // vienna o’clair [∞]

ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ɪʟʟᴜsɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ

[viennaoclair]

waylon-hughes‌:

Any day in good weather, Waylon enjoyed a twelve o’clock tee time on the Greens. It was a perk of living on the country club’s property, and after a few hours in the sun, he’d find his way to the same cob salad and mint julep. He’d enjoyed the practice since his divorce - if only because at the same time, all the way across the country in South Carolina, his father was doing the exact same thing. And in a way, it brought Waylon great comfort. Just as Waylon was arriving back at his condo, the sky had broken open, the man narrowly missing the rain.

“Gui?” His voice shouts into the clearly empty condo before he wanders towards the master bathroom, discarding his golfing attire in the laundry bin as he wandered for the rain fall shower (no pun intended). Just as he’s rinsing out his hair, until the doorbell sounds. “I told that idiot to stop forgetting his key...” Waylon mumbles, whisking his towel from it’s hook and wrapping it around his waist as he tripped his way towards the front door. “For the last - “ Waylon’s words catch in his throat as he finds himself staring down at none other than Vienna, soaking wet and shivering words that didn’t matter.

“Vee.” He’d smile for a moment before stepping aside, hastily shuffling her inside of his home. “Let me get you some dry clothes.” Waylon mumbles, a hand holding his towel together as he ran off to fetch just that for her. “Sorry, I just got back from the range!” He’d shout, hastily throwing on a pair of jeans before he rifled through his drawers, finding a t-shirt and scurrying back out to his friend.

“Well aren’t you just pitiful.” He’d laugh, reaching over to thumb away the runny mascara from her cheeks. “There. Beautiful.” With an unreadable expression, he’d pause for a long moment before blinking, and then offering over the shirt. “You know where everything is, right?”

Vienna, for all intents and purposes, is merely human (despite all of that witchy business). Waylon answers the door hardly clothed, almost as soaked as she, and it takes her by surprise. She blinks, rapidly, swallowing down the start as she slowly peeled her eyes from his form and stumbled her way past the man. He's practically dragged her into the belly of his home, and she's grateful for the warmth as the dry space envelopes her. Vee peels her wet jacket from her body, dropping it onto one of the table chairs as she wandered into the kitchen. Waylon speaks to her, but she's hardly paying attention, instead, she’s more focused on shedding what she could, for now. Shoes. Socks. She even throws her wet hair up into a messy bun. She aptly pretends like she hadn't noticed when he'd wandered off, barely contained within the towel that was wrapped around his waist. Waylon's home was almost as familiar to Vienna as her own. She'd been there so many times, and wandered throughout its bones until she'd been become acquainted with nearly every nook and cranny. The woman is making her way to the bathroom in search of a towel when he reappears, drawing her attention so easily, like he'd always done. "Thanks." She'd give a playful roll her blue-green eyes, slightly bloodshot from the rain. "Just what every woman wants to hear." And then he'd backtracked, wiping the rivers of mascara from beneath her eyes, with the admittance of her beauty loosening from his tongue. The way it causes her stomach to flutter is difficult to conceal, but she laughs- albeit forcibly- as she moves to slip the shirt from his hand. "Much better. I worried for a minute that you'd forgotten your manners." a flagrant nod rounded out his reward, "I do." Her fingers find the bulk of his forearm and she gives him a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, really. Just let me get out of these clothes and I promise to fill you in on my shitty afternoon." 

She'd offered a toothy grin, disappearing down the hall to rid herself of the rest of the clothes that had stuck to her body. Soon, she was no longer weighed down by excessive amounts of water, those garments now replaced with dry articles belonging to Waylon. Tiptoeing back after the fact, she'd appeared in an outfit that was way too large for her frame... Though she couldn't argue its comfort. "Erm.." She wrinkled her nose, tugging at the hem of the shorts she'd thrown on. "I rummaged through your drawers. Everything I had was soaked. I just threw it all into the dryer..." She'd point a thumb over her shoulder. "—And I can't find my cell phone. I think I dropped it on the walk up." Vienna struggled to fight it, but couldn't help the look of defeat that washed across her visage.

[reedmoranos]

[viennaoclair]

@waylon-hughes