CHERRY WINE. @vindefleur-blog - Tumblr Blog

grccr.

greer’s hands were cold and it was starting to get dark outside, but he was the only one left at page turners books, and he just wanted to go home. the books he was rearranging tonight were dusty and beaten. the door was propped open, so he didn’t hear the chime of the bell when someone walked in. he only realized he wasn’t alone when someone popped up behind him and said “hello!” he jumped and his cheeks heated up cherry red, and as he turned around a soft smile. “hi, sorry, i didn’t hear you come in. is there something i can help you with?”

evelyn assumed she might as well suck it up. there was no getting over this. she was here now, living in london, alone and a bit aimless. but there was nothing she couldn't get through, that much as a given. even if she did it alone -- evelyn was quite used to that. if anything, she opted always to doing things alone. the company of others tended to get in the way in her book. they were a threat and they might ruin her plans. she didn't need them. or so she thought. it had been late and she was hoping page turners was still open. it's the only book store she knows as of right now, considering she hasn't ventured out of brighton yet. the girl clears her throat before walking in, allowing herself to look around for a brief moment. it was completely empty, but it was still open, thankfully. evelyn searched around for a moment, thinking she could find what she was looking for herself, but she didn't seem to be that lucky. not today, at least. when he jumps, she does too, even though she's the one that started the whole thing. the girl couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it was. once again she clears her throat and straightens herself out, her expression becoming a bit more serious. " it's fine, don't worry. i was just wondering if you had any books on england ? well, i'm assuming you do, at least. " it was obvious she wasn't from her, hence her heavy french accent. for once evelyn tries to be polite, feeling a bit too tired to put on a tougher front.

#grccr

kinlcys.

@vindefleur.

…so stop fucking whining and get over it. Kinley’s lips are pressed into a grim line of irritation, her fingers deliberately moving over the keys with the roiling storminess of her poor mood. She knows she can’t actually say this – her readers wouldn’t be her readers for very much longer if she started speaking to them that way – but there’s something oddly therapeutic about coping with their petty problems with the words she really wants to say appearing on her screen. She’ll leave it like that for a while before she inevitably is forced to erase it and start again, but for now she’s bringing a hand up to run through her hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. Casting her eyes over to her now cold cuppa doesn’t help very much.

It’s with a determined (if frustrated) huff that she pushes her chair back from the table she’s holed up at. She doesn’t actually have a shift today, but she often comes down to the little tea shop she works at just to get out of her flat and into an environment that makes her feel safe; on most days, that helps a lot with her doing her second job, which is offering advice to the people who write into the paper she works for. Today, there’s too much going on inside of her house for even this to settle her, and she fidgets with the sleeve of her hoodie as she waits for the one other customer to be finish their order.

That’s when there’s a sudden cold draft signifying the door has opened, and it’s automatic when Kinley’s head turns to see who’s arrived, her gaze coming to rest on a familiar face. A flutter in her chest betrays her even just to herself, and she shifts her stance slightly, trying to control the smile that threatens to break out over her face. She has a bit of an…odd relationship with Evelyn, to say the least. She’s never sure of herself when she’s around, never certain of what to make of the way she feels, of how her insides churn and she’s torn between turning around and running and holding out her hand. From the very first time they’d met, their relationship has been atypical, and even as they continue to get more certain of each other and grow closer, it doesn’t really have much definition.

She tries to catch her eye, and figures she will considering she’s stood right in her direct path, but otherwise, she makes no move to greet her. There’s a tiny quirk to the corners of her mouth. Just a little.

it's pacing back and forth in front of store windows, it's adjusting the beanie that settles on her head of long strawberry blond hair, it's days after a storm that's kept her inside, it's a feeling of being threatened by everyone. it's a lot of everything paired with a feeling of being homesick and evelyn has no way out of it. she's tired of seeing little paris themed items in small shops. it feels as though they mock her, showing the things she now doesn't possess. not anymore. it's london feeling too cramped. the sky felt different here and the clouds are so grey, matching her seemingly constant grey mood. evelyn was a stubborn being, if things weren't exactly going her way, it wasn't good enough. granted, nothing ever seemed to be good enough for evelyn.

the girl had spotted kinley around twenty minutes ago, sitting in this tea shop, looking radiant. or at least radiant in evelyn's eyes. it earns the irritated state evelyn had found herself in to worsen. it's a stinging in her fingertips, wanting more. it's wanting to know kinley, to bask in her presence, seeing as it's a comfort for some reason. with a deep breath, evelyn moves inside, removing the beanie from her head as she does so, patting down the top of her hair. her eyes remain anywhere but on kinley, not wanting her to know she's come in there for her and her only. not yet.

evelyn finally turns, allowing her head to cant to the side as she finally approaches the table where kinley is sat. " well, would you look at that, " evelyn starts, with a sarcastic smile. it was hard for evelyn to come off as polite. maybe because she wasn't, she was never too sure. parts of her were just much too cold for most things, especially being polite without reason. " i'm starting to think running into you is going to become a routine. " her voice is softer this time, becoming suddenly a tad insecure, mainly because of her english. even though she could speak the language quite well, she still had some weak spots. for a brief moment, evelyn looks around. most tables were in use, minus a table in the back next to a man who looked like he smelled like cigarettes and hairspray. she’ll gladly pass. " mind if i sit ? " the girl asks, not even letting kinley answer before she sits, removing her coat and hanging it onto the back of her seat.

#kinlcys #SORRY I'M LATE #idk where i was going with this reply but here we go fam

pipcrr.

it feels like the first time she’s stepped outside of her flat in weeks when it’s really only been a few days at the most. perhaps the feeling has to do with the changes to the world outside – fallen trees, damaged buildings, and scattered debris making the once familiar streets seem foreign and otherworldly. as she strolled past the wreckage, pip can’t help but let out a weighty sigh – as though all of the harm and destruction somehow fell upon her slim shoulders. on top of it all, hadley had been stranded at uni, meaning she’d waited out the storm on her own. therefore, it’s really no surprise that at the first sign of human company, she’s drifting across the puddle laden street to offer a mumbled greeting. “sad, innit?” she gestures to the branches at their feet. “i hope the storm didn’t treat you too poorly?”

for a while there, evelyn had believed she could have forgotten what it was like to be outside. but once she steps out and the wet air hits her face, she's more than thankful. a feeling of ease washes through her as she breathes heavily through her nostrils, her hands reaching upwards to adjust the knitted beanie on her head. the mess the storm had created was almost endearing, but also a slight nuisance in evelyn's eyes. the girl begins to walk down the pavement, allowing her eyes to wander at fallen trees, slightly damaged homes, and water filled streets. thankfully she didn't wear her favorite boots. as someone speaks, evelyn instantly believes it's not to her. she'd been used to that her entire life. besides, why would someone speak to her ? that's until her eyes avert and it's brought to her attention that -- yes, someone was speaking to her. a pretty girl, in fact, was speaking to evelyn kindly and she isn't sure how to respond. a clear of her throat comes first as she stops in her tracks, attempting to scrape leaves and mud off of the bottom of her shoes. " um, yes. it's very -- sad.. " the girl trails off, almost forgetting to speak english for a moment. " oh, i'm just fine. the front of my home is a mess, which is beyond frustrating, but i suppose i can deal with that. i hope the storm didn't treat you poorly, as well. it certainly was uh -- hm, i've forgotten the word in english. chaotic ? i think that's it. "

#pipcrr

gansevy

#la fleur.

flynn-rhodes.

Flynn finished wiping out a glass that he had washed in preparation for the bar to open up. He placed the glass among the others and stood back up, rounding the bar and to the doors. He sighed and then opened them with a flourish, locking them in place and stepping back. Low lights illuminated the tables and soon, there was music pouring through the speakers for the joy of the hotel stayers. He pretended to wipe down the bar so that he would look as if he were doing something should a staff member or his boss walk in. People usually didn’t start coming in until ten so he had about an hour to spare.

They drifted in slowly at first, no one wanting to be the first one in and by themselves no less. Soon enough the room was filled with low chatter and people ordering drinks. His coworker was currently out on the floor, delivering pints of the beer they have on tap. He blinked as someone sat at the bar, striding over to them. “Hello.” He smiled. “What can I get for you?”

with a phone to her ear and books in her arm, frustration oozes out of evelyn. it's one of those home sick days that evelyn endures from time to time. these days the air feels too warm under her nose and the sky feels way too large, or at least too much for her own naked eye to take in all at once. it's an overwhelming sensation and nothing seems familiar. it's an emptiness in her stomach that food couldn't fill, neither could the passions that she usually enjoys. it all comes down to time and time seemed as fickle as anything these days.

" dois-je faire tout le putain de travail ici ?! appelez-moi quand vous commencez à faire sens ! " she hangs up without another word, knowing she's probably just caused a scene in the middle of the hotel but can't find herself to care. with a sigh leaving her system she pads over to the bar, taking a seat. evelyn was meant to meet someone here, but they cancelled last minute. that was probably the source of her frustrations -- but once again, she can't find herself to care. as the bartender begins to speak to her she almost jumps from her skin, another breathy sigh coming from her once again. " any red wine that you have is fine. " she wasn't even going to bother asking for wine that she preferred by name. she wasn't in paris anymore, she had to get used to that.

#flynnrhodes #hello!!!!#sorry about her omg

kinlcys.

“Shit.” Kinley mutters this under her breath, entirely to herself, and then casts her gaze over the people scattered about the little tea shop in which she works. She’s not actually on duty right now, but this is one of the quieter places for her to do her writing, and therefore she usually ends up settling here more often than not. “Hey,” She addresses someone, attempting to catch their attention by raising her voice a bit, “you mind answering a question for me?” She’s going somewhere with this, most likely.

evelyn is starting to think people in brighton have no boundaries ! she could not keep track of the amount of people who have stopped her to ask questions about herself or the things she enjoys or something to benefit a project they were working on. perhaps she wasn't used to such a talkative nature, but she was growing unsettled. so with a sigh, evelyn turns to the stranger, preparing herself for more questions. this stranger was much more vague than the others, which only earns the tension in the pit of her belly to increase. " i think it depends on what the question is... " the french girl trails off, brows furrowed and her hands tucked inside of her coat pockets. " i do mind. "

#kinlcys

pipcrr.

it’s official; she’s in a slump. pip’s been functioning a shade or two less vibrant than usual for long enough to feel like she’s lost some of her colour permanently. in most aspects of her life – self care, her friendships and interactions – she’s able to hide the seemingly irreversible drop in her mood fairly well. her work and spinning the tracks she loves, however, has suffered. her muse has diminished and neon’s never heard so many reruns of the same tunes from their headlining dj. not a soul has complained but that doesn’t stop her from being critical of her own work (or lack thereof). disappointing others has never sat well with her ambitious nature which is why she’s determined to shake her musical writer’s block once and for all. her chin rests atop her kneecaps in her tucked up position though one hand is extended towards her laptop, perched in front of her. she taps a finger idly against the touchpad, scrolling through her list of songs and glancing up at the nearest familiar face when she comes up empty of motivation. “hey,” even her voice sounds defeated to her own ears and she paints on a convincing smile to mask any wavering, “what’s your favourite song? or just… one you can’t get enough of lately. i’m stuck.”

just as pip seemed to lack inspiration, evelyn seemed to be consuming massive amounts of it. evelyn had taken to writing and putting together her own dance routine, which is something she hasn't done ever. usually she'd follow her instructors or teachers -- or even videos on the internet. but today she felt a burst of motivation and decided she'd like to pull together a routine of her own, especially since she's been having trouble settling on a dance studio here in brighton, even if she's been here for six months now. as someone begins to speak to her, evelyn's gaze is quick to avert to the source, her brows instantly furrowing. it irritates her that someone interrupts her moment of thought, but decided to put it off for now. the girl soon sits up, allowing her eyes to wander, before answering. " well, i listen to a lot of classical music, mainly for dance. but i have recently heard an album by a girl band called muna. i believe it's their debut album. they have a song on there titled end of desire that i've really loved so much. " evelyn's hands soon fold into her lap, allowing her head to cant to the side as she examines the girl before her. " why do you ask ? "

#pipcrr

flowerun.

He checks the time over the date on his phone ; the first he’s touched it in three and a half weeks. Then, to give his hands something to do other than tousle his hair, taps a cigarette from his pack and lights up. Realization settles a little (one day short of exactly three weeks) too late, twitching up just the corner of a smile. An inhale through the teeth. An exhale through a nearly inaudible laugh, more vibration than sound. He had forgotten his own birthday. Nineteen.

Brighton greets him with the still lingering darkness of morning and the warmer side of thirty degrees. Neil comes back to it the same way he fled from it nearly a month ago now: without a word and running (this time figuratively). Part of him, the same bit that waxes poetic and wishes to romanticize his mistakes, wishes it were raining. Maybe then it would feel as if he’s really washing his hands of old habits. Stood still on the side of a street, watching seven o’clock bleed the dawn across the horizon, Neil knows better. Nothing in his life has been easy. He hasn’t been very honest with himself. Maybe he hadn’t been very courageous up until recently either. He can hear the faint memory a familiar voice, cracking over a telephone line, braver than that. There are flowers to be delivered, after all.

today was off to a late start for evelyn. she was up all night working on a project and completely forgot to set an alarm for herself. it was a minor inconvenience, but to evelyn it was huger than huge. she hated being late and she always hated throwing off her own personal routine. it destroys the good mood she could have been in to start her day, now everything was just going to feel lopsided.

at the sight of neil, she can't help but shake her head. she didn't know him very well, nor has she even attempted to. he was simply her co-worker. " bonjour, neil. " she mumbles, her tone a bit harsher than she intended it to be. " i'm surprised you haven't been fired. " her arms cross carefully over her chest as her head cants to the side. " also, you really need to tell that boy of yours to stop coming around here so much and asking for you while somehow not asking for you at the same time. it's disrupting work hours ! it's completely inappropriate ! où est ta tête ?! "

#flowerun #calm down evelyn god damn