‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

dependent muse blog for @ciderpointhq, penned and loved by theo.

emerson ellis rockwell (david corenswet) 34, firefighter/emt

coastal coffee

lavender has never been good at this, confrontation. it's what got her into the situation she was in, awkward conversations with the people she loved the most, years of missing pieces that she struggeled to put together. her family didn't know her, she barely knew herself. bellamy and lavender drifted in and out of each others lives even before lav had left, she was off at school when her dads had fostered them, so they met on one of her trips back home. they had become family, and so when she came back to cider point those months, she knew this was a relationship she wanted to attempt to heal. "is this awkward?" she asks, sighing into her cup. "i'm not good at this...rebuilding relationships."

shirleys diner.

a diner feels safe. neutral ground. it was silly, in the grand scheme that she needed neutral ground with someone she loved so deeply, but it was her fault they were here in the first place. rory sits across from her now, a table, and a lifetime between them. she's ripping up a wrapper to a straw between her fingers, something to do with nervous hands. a cup of coffee is placed in front of her. she dumps too much sugar into it, even more cream. she breathes, once, twice, and then "thank you for meeting me here," too formal, she furrows her brows. "did you...should we get right into it?"

their office, electric avenue.

cider point is different in ways that felt unreal, and scary, and yet somehow still exactly the same in ways that feel scary, too. being back here the last few months had been an adjustment period, and being back in an office at least once in awhile, with indigo again after so long had been even more of one, she was used to laptop screens and timezone differences. but there was something comforting about their relationship, still. she plops into the chair across from her, placing her friends coffee order (one she still remembered, even now) in front of her and then throwing her head back with a sigh. "tell me something good, please, before we get into the problems."

lavenders apartment, electric avenue.

"call me a coward all you want, but i don't think i'm ready to have the talk with them" she explains, exasperated as she sits with her legs folded underneath her, on a fluffy striped couch, glass of red wine her hand. "we've actively avoided the conversation since i've been back and things have been....not normal, don't get me wrong, but.. tolerable."

grand royale.

he chooses the chaos of the club to match the chaos of the day, two very different types, but that was what he needed, a balance – it had felt like the calls kept coming over his shift, and the tension had settled into his bones by the end of it. he's stopped at the bar, whiskey neat in hand, which he finishes half of far too quickly. he catches esme's eye and shrugs a shoulder "rough night," he barely explains, eyebrow raising "how's it going for you? busy?"

penny park

emerson is crouched low, hands buried deep into the fur around moose's neck, fluffing the hair there, laughing when the animal whined happily. to say he was affectionate with the animal was an understatement. moose's lack of respect for personal space when he had first been adopted had seeped into his owners, and wherever emerson went, so did moose, trailing behind. it's when the dog is distracted that emerson finally realize they're no longer alone, and stands up, wiping his hands on his pants. "sorry about that, thanks for meeting me, this boy was getting restless, cooped up in the house while i work, an unbelivable case of the zoomies this morning" he explains, patting his hand into the dogs fur again. "figured a playdate and fresh air would help."

the comic book shop

somehow moose's walk had turned into a whole thing. usually they start just outside his house, and then they venture into town, or on a trail, if the both of them are feeling up to it. neither of them were feeling up to a trail, so they had ventured into town, em using the errands he had to run as an excuse and god did he need another cup of coffee. sleep had eldued him once again. the bell above the door to the comic shop dings as he walks in, signaling his presence, and he sets down one of the cups of coffee on the counter "mid-day pick me up?" he offers by way of greeting.

penny park

the weather in the mornings is perfect for running, the sun not hot enough for heat to become an issue, and early enough still that people weren't everywhere. he's warming up, stretching, because god, he realizes he's 34 years old and if he doesn't warm up, something is bound to get pulled. but once he's done he sets some things on his watch, and looks at the other, eyebrow raising "start at two miles and meet back here? see how we feel?"

emersons place.

a celebration cake, he thinks, sounds easy enough. the problem, however, lies in the fact that he is not good at baking, not even from a box, and a box simply won't do. vienna was exceptional, in his very, incredibly biased opinion, but passing her summer courses was worthy of something special, and this, of course, is where teddy comes in. she knows this stuff, it's quite literally her job, and he could take the easy way out and have her make it for him, but he needs to learn, and it needs to be from him. he wipes his freshly washed hands on the apron she had handed him when she arrived, and then crosses his arms over his chest "okay, put me in coach, what do I do?"

౨ৎ˚₊ do you hear THE BOLTER BY TAYLOR SWIFT playing? oh, that must be LAVENDER MARCHISIO breezing by. i don’t know if you recognize them, but they look like ANNA SAWAI to me. i heard that SHE has been in town for 26 YEARS AND ALSO FOUR MONTHS, which is crazy considering they are 31 years old. yeah, they live over on ELECTRIC AVENUE , and i heard that they work as a FOUNDER/CEO OF LILAS ( OUT OF TOWN ). i love that they remind me of dirty, filthy martinis, cherry-stained lips, late nights spent working, the scent of english pears and freesia, melting butter on warm sourdough bread with jam, french wine and sunlight seeping through the windows, science-backed arguments and herbal magic, a gemini moon and a roll of pretty brown eyes. but … ugh, their playlist is so weird. why is/are WILLING AND ABLE BY NOAH KAHAN in the queue?

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