"I do know that, yes," Sachin agreed casually. He was a man who liked to have his way, no matter what the situation. He leaned over, looking to the mess under the sink and his nose wrinkled in... disgust, perhaps? Not only had he underestimated the state of things in this place, but also how interested he actually was in being apart of it. Had his curiosity been satiated? Sachin's gaze drifted back to Ada... it was too late to back out now, it seemed. Not that he would. He didn't revoke offers once they were made.

"Expecting me to work quietly is, in fact, entirely unreasonable." Sachin said. "I can talk about myself, if you'd rather?" He gave her a cheeky smile. He still waved a hand for her to show the way, and followed behind her. Glancing down at his very expensive shoes he wondered allowed, "Will be shoes actually get ruined? These are quite nice." It was rhetorical... kind of.

the resident wordsmith seemed entirely armored against her finest verbal artillery. ada observed the subtle wrinkle of his nose as he peered into the shadowy, cobwebbed cavern beneath the basin framework, an unspoken calculation happening behind his eyes. she knew that look; it was the exact moment an investigator realized a routine assignment was actually a logistical quagmire. yet, true to the stubborn nature she was beginning to recognize in him, he didn’t retreat toward the safety of his book lined sanctuary. "if you think you can negotiate a monologue into the contract, you’re mistaken," she shot back, refusing to concede a single millimeter to his cheeky insolence, even as the knots in her neck finally began to untangle.

when his eyes descended to his spotless leather footwear with that muttered elegy for their impending doom, a sudden, bright laugh escaped her. a ghostly echo of the woman who used to exchange razor sharp repartée over dry martinis before her world was pulverized into divorce decrees and plaster debris. "those sleek kicks are going to look like casualties of a volcanic eruption by five o'clock," she warned, a grim little spark of glee warming her tone as she hauled the corroded flashlight from its cardboard perch. "so say your final goodbyes to luxury craftsmanship now. the dampness rotting out this foundation doesn't care about luxury branding."

she wedged her frame into the suffocating gap alongside the raw skeleton of the island, the splintered floorboards chewing into her knees. it was a far cry from running a metropolitan press room, but her internal posture remained fiercely upright as she pointed her pencil toward the tarnished, verdigris coated plumbing. "now, catch the copper joint right where the main pipe splits," she commanded, shifting her weight to give him room to ruin his wardrobe. "and keep the beam steady. if your plotting abilities are even a fraction as developed as your talent for trespassing, you can narrate exactly how your multisyllabic hero plans to escape his next cliffhanger while i wrestle this century old metal into cooperation."

Ebon pocketed his keys and let Ada lead the way towards wherever she was taking him. "Chronological breakdown?" He said, taking off his hat so he could run a hand over his head. "Starting from when?" He'd lived in three states in his first three years. Ebon had suppressed most of his memories from before Esme was born, but there were still some interesting facts floating around in his brain. He supposed the adrenaline junkie part (if it could even be called that) had started in high school.

"I think the rodeo is the most interesting part," Ebon decided after doing a mental scan through his entire life. The rodeo was the most exciting part, at least. "Fuck, I don't know..." He chuckled, shaking his head. "You just let me know which parts you want to know and we'll go from there." He gave Ada a sidelong glance, raising his brow. "Off the record..." Ebon said. "I can't have my name popping up in any of the town's gossip rags." He was mostly joking, and his tone indicated as much, but he did want to keep a low profile.

a sudden bright pop of laughter sparked by the mental picture of a miniature cardboard version of him circulating among collectors. she began leading a path through the dense, slow moving carnival crowd, navigating around strollers and oversized stuffed pandas with a nimble, city born agility that didn't waste a single step. "a trading card?" she asked, her attention locking onto the detail like a detective finding a hidden fingerprint. she tilted her head back, scope sweeping over his features, trying to superimpose a glossy, youthful athlete's smile onto the unreadable face she usually saw behind the counter at hank's. "oh, absolutely not. i am tracking that down on ebay the second we get back within wifi distance. i don't care if it costs me a fortune in shipping."

she paused at the edge of a brightly lit food truck, the sweet, greasy scent of powdered sugar coating the night air. she pulled a crisp bill from her purse, exchanging it for a massive, absurdly golden slab of fried dough, which she immediately held out to him like a trophy. "we are starting at the very beginning. genesis. page one," she declared, her eyes flashing with a mix of untamed curiosity and mock investigative authority. "i want the entire map. you don't get to just summarize a whole life in a single paragraph when you have a literal athletic portfolio hidden in your closet. though, i suppose i can grant your request for an off the record status. my metropolitan background didn't prepare me to write about livestock anyway, and i highly doubt the pinehaven gazette is ready for a front page exposé on the mysterious past of its favorite woodworker."

she tore off a piece of the pastry, her posture straight and alert as she leaned against a wooden picnic table, completely ignoring a nearby speaker blasting high volume bass. "but don't think that means you're safe," she added, a witty, competitive grin softening the edges of her lips. "off the record just means i can't publish it. it doesn't mean i won't use it to blackmail you into helping me haul that massive porcelain sink upstairs this weekend. now, start talking. how does a boy with a trading card end up learning the structural limits of cedar beams in washington?"

"Ugh Marcus," Kitty groaned playfully, dropping her head back between her shoulders. She looked back up at Orion when the other girl mentioned how slow the shop at been. That was kind of surprising to her. She felt like she saw a new tattoo crop up on another friend every time she went out! But Kitty would take Orion's word for it. "I'll talk to Christine soon," She promised.

"You know I love being fought over," Kitty teased, flipping her hair over her shoulder. That wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't entirely false either. She liked attention, and wouldn't deny anyone from giving it to her. She mostly loved giving things to the people she cared about. Kitty was a friends girl. She had a lot of them, and she liked to treat them when she can. That's what being from a small town was all about, right?

"I'm sure you'll get a text from me soon," Kitty said. "You and Jazz, he'll riot if he finds out the idea he put into my head bypassed him completely."

orion took the offered silver flask, the metal chilled from the descending twilight, and let a small burn of whiskey trail down her throat. she considered the question, passing it back, pausing briefly to track the solitary, blinking trajectory of a satellite cutting through the sprawling constellation of stars overhead. "it's none of those things, not really," her confession barely catching the wind as it rolled across the black water. "people think they want to be different, but they're actually terrified of it. they don't come to my chair to become unique. they come because they're looking for a way to map the things they can't say on something visceral. it's about control. making the internal landscape visible." she tucked her legs closer, molding herself into a tight silhouette with her chin resting on the worn denim of her knees. out on the expanse, the ink dark depths of the lake completely devoured the final, gasping sparks of daylight, surrendering the horizon to the stark, unfiltered vastness of the midnight hours.

"the chemicals, the adrenaline, the rush, it's all addicting enough," she added, watching kitty's playful theatrics with a twitch of amusement at the edge of her mouth. "but the real pull is the permanence. having a mark that stays exactly where you put it...that's the part that hooks them." she knew that even the most trivial requests she’d executed, the faded cartoon relics or the uninspired tribal loops, carried that same desperate longing for perpetuity beneath their generic facades.

the mention of jazz brought a more authentic curve to her lips, shifting her expression into something genuinely fond. "let him throw his tantrum," orion remarked, a playful glint igniting in her dark eyes at the thought of his inevitable dramatic flair. "he’ll forgive the betrayal the second you promise to let him handle your next piece." It was a cheeky prophecy, a silent wager that while kitty might never fully colonize her skin with ink the way orion had, she might already be infected with the very compulsion they were dissecting. with a soft, final snap, she closed the cover of the sketchbook, sealing the dancing figures away in the dark as the cold lake wind rose to claim the rest of the night.

Did she notice all the remnants, all the things she left behind? The framed graduation photo? The picture with Gabi hugging him in front of her first car? With Val on the back of her motorcycle? Did she care? Could she feel the same chasm between who they were when she left and who they were now? She had to have. Inés was impulsive sure, but she was hardly imperceptive. She could read him better than most, after all.

Andrés watched her make her observations, and then march her way into the kitchen. His following was delayed, still observing her as she took to a new room. He took a few moments more, after she left his line of vision. To prepare? Process? Cope? He wasn't quite sure.

"She's been doing fine so far," he said, factually. Not that Inés would know. He crossed his arms, leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, still observing Inés. "She cooks some nights, too." Andrés wasn't sure how it started, if he'd suggested it to help prepare her for college, if she'd gotten tired of waiting for him to come home, or if she'd cooked as a way to look after him. Most days, he told himself it was the former. It was only on days where he was questioning his parenting that he thought it could be the latter two.

his voice drifted into the kitchen with that flat tone he always used when he was playing the protector, but inés wasn't listening to his defense of their daughter's culinary survival skills. she was too busy digging through his cupboards. the admission of gabi cooking on her own roused a brief, invisible needle pricked at the inside of her chest. a reminder of all the milestones she had missed, the domestic routines established in her absence; but she masked it by rattling a stack of mismatched coffee mugs. a shadow fell over the linoleum as his larger frame finally caught up to her, stepping into her line of fire to reach right past her shoulder and accessing the very top shelf.

she caught a sudden, overwhelming whiff of him, detergent, faint motor oil, and the crisp smell of the evening air still clinging to his collar, before he set the two ceramic rounds down on the counter. the blue trimmed edges were exactly as she remembered, though they looked slightly more chipped than they had three winters ago.

inés didn't look at him immediately. she stared down at the porcelain, her lacquered nails resting against the cool glaze. a smug, triumphant little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, though she kept it carefully hidden from him. so, he hadn't forgotten either. he still knew exactly which pieces mattered to her, even if he had hidden them away where a shorter woman would have to strain to reach them.

"so you did save them," she murmured, her tone dropping its theatrical edge for something a bit more intimate, a bit more dangerous. she took one of the plates, sliding it toward the steaming container of mole. "i thought you might have done some sort of ceremonial tossing of anything of mine." it's what she would have done, or at least threatened to do.

she picked up a large serving spoon from the drying rack, dipping it deep into the rich, dark sauce, ensuring a perfect balance of meat and broth. with a flourish that belonged on a television set rather than a cramped kitchen, she plated a generous portion, the fragrant steam swirling up between them like an offering. "sit," she commanded gently, finally turning those dark, perceptive eyes up to meet his gaze. she held the plate out to him, her chin tilted up in a silent challenge. "let us see if your palate has survived three years of your own cooking, mi amor. taste it."

"And also," Ari raised her hands. "This is all assuming he even remembers who the fuck I am." She rolled her eyes. Ariel agreed with Evie's assessment of her, she tended to think she was a badass bitch. But that was all before she'd come back to town with her tail between her legs. Now, it was just easier to assume no one remembered her. It kept her from spiraling over all the possibilities of running into the people she left behind. "He's going to be like oh, yeah, uh... Ariana?" She deepened her voice, imitating a man. Ariel would honestly be devastated if Indy didn't remember her, but that was something to worry about another day.

Ariel reached out to put her hand on top of Evie's and looked her friend in the eyes. She could cry, honestly. She didn't deserve to have a friend like Evie, but thank fuck she did. It made coming back here so much easier. Evie took away the sting of failure a bit. Ariel smiled back, nodding her head, before letting it fade slightly as she said, "Can you tell Tatum I'm back? Let me know if she wants to see me or not..." Ariel had a feeling Tatum wasn't going to be as welcoming. She wouldn't have been if rolls were reversed. But she hoped that Tatum would give her a chance to apologize at least.

Settling back into her seat, Ariel glanced over at the menu board. It was beyond embarrassing that she couldn't even afford to buy herself a fucking sandwich, but she would just pass it off as not being that hungry. "I had something before leaving the house... I'll just have a bite of yours maybe." Ari said, shrugging.

the sudden, booming pronouncement of her legal birth name truly sealed her fate. "evelyn?!" she gasped, her hands spreading flat against her chest as if her heart might actually escape through her cardigan. "oh goodness, the full government name? now i know you’re plotting maximum interference! please do not make matching me up your summer thesis project." the teasing dissolved into a warm, bright pool of comfort as ariel began mimicking an imaginary, forgetful indiana rose. she couldn't help more bubbling gales of laughter escaping. "ariana, stop. the man is a human being with functioning eyes and a memory, not an amoeba," she insisted, her gaze locking onto her friend's with certainty. "you don't just erase someone like you from your mental history books. you left this valley like a blazing comet, and trust me, nobody forgets the time the sky caught fire. i have a feeling when he sees you his brain is going to short circuit entirely."

yet, as ariel’s palm found hers across the table, bringing with it the sudden, fragile weight of tatum’s name, the air in the booth shifted. the space between them grew small and fiercely loyal. evie’s fingers curled tightly around ariel’s, offering a solid fortress of support against the storm of small town reckonings. "i will talk to tatum," evie promised softly, her eyes shining with absolute sincerity. "she...well, she might need a second to process the news, but she loves you, ari. we both do. it might take a little time to mend things, but i’ll be right there with you. you don't have to face the music alone."

evie’s eyes darted toward the wooden menu board above the counter, following the brief path of ariel's gaze before her friend offered that overly casual shrug about having already eaten. a soft realization bloomed behind evie's eyes, but she didn't let even a flicker of pity show. instead, she bounced out of the booth with a sudden surge of bright energy. "well, you are going to have to find some extra room, because i am absolutely starved and i cannot face the menu alone," evie declared, waving a hand dismissively as she spun toward the register. "i'm ordering the giant cheddar melt feast for us to split. do not argue with a hungry woman, it is highly unsafe."

while the kitchen staff worked their magic in the back, evie slid back into the vinyl seat, immediately diving into a rapid tapestry of local gossip to fill the space. she spun wild, colorful yarns about town hall's recent disastrous attempt to colonize the town square with aggressive geese, and how the local bakery had accidentally swapped the salt and sugar for a bridal shower cake. they traded old memories and caught up on the small, comforting rhythms of the valley, the laughter washing away the lingering chill of the outside world until the air between them felt completely warm and seamless.

finally, the waitress slid a massive, golden plate between them, the freshly grilled bread practically radiating warmth and sizzling with bubbling, melted cheese. without missing a single beat, evie grabbed her butter knife and sliced the massive sandwich perfectly down the center with a grand, theatrical flourish. she slid the larger half, along with a mountain of crispy fries, straight into ariel’s territory. "perfect timing," evie beamed, her smile entirely bright and easy. "this thing is a literal dairy monolith and there is zero chance my stomach can conquer it solo. consider it a mandatory culinary collaboration. now eat, partner, because tomorrow we march into the legal lion's den, and you cannot dismantle a corporate syndicate on an empty tank."

temperance watched the patron disappear into the labyrinth of mystery paperbacks, the final check out dissolving into the hushed, cavernous peace that always lived beneath the high timber rafters. even with a few stray souls browsing the far shelves, the sanctuary maintained its paper scented serenity. yet, the moment her daughter’s fragile question traveled across the open floorboards, the librarian felt a distinct, empathetic pinch. from her post at the counter, she had been silently monitoring the rigid line of her spine, recognizing the invisible burdens weighing upon her.

stepping out from behind the counter, temperance glided across the honey colored planks, the soft fabric of her hem brushing the wood with a sound like falling leaves. arriving at the alcove, her gaze washed over the immaculate geometry of pastel highlighters and precisely squared folders; the poignant artistry of a soul trying to force the wilderness of life into tidy, predictable columns.

"oh, my precious girl," temperance breathed, her voice dropping into a rich warmth as she settled onto the worn wooden seat beside her, her entire presence radiating an intuitive, boundless comfort. she reached out, placing her palms face up on the oak, an open invitation for connection without forcing her way into her daughter's space. "you could never care too much. that tireless, protective spirit is precisely why this community thrives under your care. it is an extraordinary virtue, liv, not a weakness."

she tilted her head, eyes catching the amber light filtering through the high arched windows, her expression filled with a maternal understanding that required no words of apology or shame. "as for our dear town patriarch," she added, a melodic sound of amusement escaping her lips, fond and deeply perceptive. "he grumbles, he scoffs, and he acts as though the entire civic process is a grand nuisance. but it is simply the shield of a weary sentinel. i think he cares fiercely, but he has grown accustomed to the safety of his routine. do not mistake his weariness for a lack of appreciation for the brilliant engine you have become in his life. you are holding the framework together, and he knows it."

who: anyone !

where: the steep stop

open to assumed connections! sachiko has lived in pinehaven her whole life and has been working at the steep stop with her mom since she was born!

feat @pinehavenstarters

the bell above the glass panel clattered, a brassy jolt that sent the cat bolting for the safety of the back room while the old retriever offered a familiar ruff of approval. rocky stepped inside, the collar of his flannel turned up against the crisp morning bite, a white cardboard box from the diner balanced in one palm and a smaller brown paper sack from his own pastry display in the other. he didn't need to look around to know the place was freezing; he could see the slight tremor in sachiko’s bare shoulders from across the room. "if you're trying to save on the heating bill, sachi, this isn't the way to do it," he muttered, his deep voice cutting through the hum of the espresso machine. he walked past the mismatched wooden tables, navigating the floor cushions with the practiced stride who had walked this path many times. he set the breakfast bounty down on the counter with a soft thud. "you’re shivering. put a sweater on."

he popped the lid off the box, revealing a stack of blueberry hotcakes; the thick, golden kind he knew she preferred, drowned in real syrup, not the cheap stuff he served the tourists. along with it, he pulled out a container of those cinnamon sugar twists she always stole from the display case whenever she visited his place. "before you ask, yes, i saw the text clara sent you about smuggling those neon pink boots into the house," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. "she forgot my phone is still linked to the family app. tell your accomplice she can buy whatever she wants with her babysitting money. but they aren't practical for those hikes she takes with her friends, she's gonna attract a grizzly."

he leaned his hips against the counter, crossing his arms as his eyes swept over the cozy setup of the tea shop. seeing her here, managing the place with that fierce determination, always brought a strange wave of nostalgia over him. it felt like a lifetime ago that he was the angry kid with the bad attitude and the leather jacket, dragging his feet through pinehaven with no direction until a baby girl was dropped into his lap. if it hadn't been for sachi and her mother stepping in, along with his grandfather, he probably would have drowned. they were the ones who showed him what community actually meant when his world was imploding.

he watched her finish her opening checklist, his expression softening into that protective, slightly stubborn look he usually kept reserved for family. "i swung by your mom’s place on my way in. dropped off her paper and checked the pilot light on her furnace like you asked. everything's running fine. eat."

                    instantly   ,   he   was   like   a   rock   .   her   port   in   the   storm   when   the   wind   was   blowing   around   her   and   making   her   shake   .   despite   that   ,   she   could   hear   her   parents'   voices   in   her   head   .   grim   reminders   that   she   wouldn't   go   anywhere   in   life   if   she   went   off   on   her   own   ,   the   promise   of   a   ruined   future   when   the   path   was   laid   out   so   carefully   in   front   of   her   .   every   step   to   be   taken   was   one   that   had   been   curated   by   the   town   that   surrounded   her   ,   and   the   seasoned   history   of   her   family   .   the   vaughns   were   known   ,   respected   ,   and   faithful   .   she   would   ruin   the   image   ,   she   would   knock   their   lineage   down   with   her   sinful   misdeeds   .   they   had   called   him   a   mistake   ,   and   she   had   gone   to   pack   a   bag   immediately   after   .

                    although   nyoka   knew   deep   down   that   this   wasn't   her   fault   ,   it   was   one   of   those   things   that   just   happened   as   a   kid   ,   she   still   couldn't   help   but   want   to   beat   herself   up   over   it   .   rocky   stood   there   ,   comforting   her   in   his   own   way   ,   but   nothing   could   shake   the   feeling   welling   up   inside   of   her   that   she   had   done   something   wrong   .   a   common   occurrence   that   could   happen   to   anyone   ,   felt   like   something   entirely   new   to   her   world   .   she   had   burned   down   the   colosseum   ,   she   had   toppled   the   tower   of   pisa   .

                    she   wanted   to   insist   that   she   go   along   for   the   search   ,   but   her   voice   didn't   come   out   the   way   she   intended   it   to   .   more   a   squeak   than   any   intelligible   english   word   ,   but   he   must   have   sensed   it   .   he   must   have   realized   that   she   couldn't   stay   there   gripping   the   edges   of   the   booth's   small   counter   .   white   knuckles   hanging   on   for   dear   life   as   she   tried   to   breathe   but   not   hyperventilate   .   despite   what   rocky   believed   about   the   town   ,   it   was   all   new   to   nyoka   .   her   life   ever   since   leaving   texas   was   one   shitty   place   after   the   other   ,   and   only   recently   had   she   gotten   used   to   the   idea   of   finally   living   somewhere   that   might   be   halfway   decent   .

                    her   feet   must   have   known   what   to   do   before   her   brain   did   .   “   okay   ,   okay   ,   ”   she   replied   ,   nodding   along   and   following   rocky's   lead   .   he   said   it   would   be   fine   ,   so   it   would   be   fine   .   it   would   have   to   be   fine   ,   or   she   would   go   nuclear   .   as   if   her   hands   also   had   their   own   will   ,   she   finally   reached   up   to   wipe   the   tears   off   of   her   face   and   out   of   her   eyes   .   make   up   smudged   ,   her   false   lashes   tore   off   .   she   didn't   care   .

                    “   jam   !   ”   she   called   out   once   again   ,   looking   behind   every   nook   and   cranny   as   they   hurried   through   the   fair   .   people   were   everywhere   ;   she   hadn't   noticed   how   full   the   park   was   until   she   needed   it   not   to   be   .   vendors   were   all   over   ,   but   she   tried   to   look   in   the   few   places   they   had   visited   while   she'd   been   on   her   reprieve   from   working   .   she   thought   he   might   have   gone   back   to   look   a   toy   he   liked   ,   or   maybe   to   grab   some   sweet   treat   if   he   could   reach   up   high   enough   .   he   would   do   that   sort   of   thing   from   time   to   time   .   he   seemed   to   be   just   .   .   .   nowhere   .   no   pale   blue   hat   ,   no   star   balloon   .

                  just   breathe   .   all   she   had   to   do   was   breathe   .   he   had   to   be   in   the   park   ,   she   had   been   through   too   much   to   lose   him   now   in   the   safest   place   they'd   ever   been   .   just   breathe   .

rocky carved a determined path through the suffocating crush of bodies, his broad shoulders acting as a wedge against the wall of midday holidaymakers. he felt the raw tension vibrating through the dusty air, but he kept his eyes locked on the horizon, refusing to let the surrounding panic infect his focus. behind him, he could hear her breath catching, her sneakers scraping against the dirt as she struggled to keep pace, repeatedly throwing her voice into the roaring din of the crowd.

the immense volume of people flooding the fairgrounds was overwhelming. on a regular saturday, he would have complained about the congestion, the noise, and the smell of hot grease, but right now, the sea of faces felt like a labyrinth designed to swallow a toddler whole. he kept a firm grip on the situation, guiding her past a cluster of fried dough stands and spinning game wheels, his mind calculating every possible route a little boy's legs could take. "chin up, nik," he ordered, his voice a definite rumble that offered no room for argument or despair. "he hasn't dissolved into thin air. check the lower shelves of the display booths. if he saw something shiny or a toy with wheels, he's might have parked right in front of it."

they reached the central plaza where the independent merchants had pitched their canvas tents. it was an area they had traversed during her break, a vibrant stretch filled with carved wooden animals, glittering wind chimes, and brightly painted trinkets. rocky scanned the baseboards of every single structure, his vision cutting through the legs of strolling couples, discarded popcorn buckets, and strollers. as they moved, rocky didn't let a single familiar face pass without interrogating them, using his standing in the town to demand immediate answers. he slammed a hand against the weathered wooden ledge of the leatherworking stall, interrupting a potential sale without a hint of remorse.

"mitch, look at me. you see a little kid pass by? knee high, wearing a light blue bucket hat?" the craftsman shook his head with a startled look, and rocky was already moving, his attention snapping to the next vendor before mitch could even speak. he leaned his torso over the counter of the kettle corn booth, his face grim as he locked eyes with the woman behind the massive iron pot. "sarah, look down. you see jamari loop past here in the last ten minutes? think fast." when she offered only a worried, negative murmur, his jaw tightened. he grunted, a sound of pure frustration, and pushed forward, refusing to let the dead ends slow their momentum.

he noticed nyoka's frantic movements out of the corner of his eye; the way she was ripping away the ruined, smudged cosmetic lashes and rubbing the tear streaked makeup from her skin, discarding the superficial weight just to see the world clearer. he respected that entirely. she was stripping away everything down to pure mothering instinct. "we're checking the prize counters next," rocky said, shifting their direction toward the louder stretch of the midway where the ring toss setups stood and giant plush creatures hung from the rafters like low clouds. "maybe he's chasing a reward, or if he followed a balloon. don't look at the crowd or the faces. look at the spaces between them, the gaps at the bottom of the tents."

Truthfully, it worried Ebon that Esme went through lovers like they were sticks of gum. He'd never tell her how to live, and he'd continue to support every decision she made, but that didn't mean her would stop worrying. Ebon wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to find someone to spend her life with and prove to their mother once and for all that it was possible. He simply didn't know if it would happen. And if it did, when it would. Perhaps Pinehaven would be a change of pace for both of them.

"I'll set something up," Ebon promised. He moved back to the fridge, taking out the container of leftover potatoes and a bundle of broccoli. "Or you can just come with me next time?" He suggested. He didn't think Azra would mind if he sprung his sister on her. They'd spoken about Esme at length already, it was only natural to meet her now that she was in town. "Oh, the drama is standard conversation..." Ebon chuckled. "I went to get breakfast before work the other day and these two women were talking at full volume about how so-and-so was back in town and it was so scandalous..." Ebon shook his head. He hadn't been able to stop listening even though he didn't care.

"I'm sure you'll be the talk of the town," He teased, glancing over his shoulder to wink at his sister. His baby sister was an electric force to be reckoned with. She'd never entered a room and been denied attention. And that fact wouldn't change in Pinehaven. Ebon just better not hear anything negative, or he'd have to give the gossip mill something else to talk about.

"Understandable..." Ebon said easily. He could understand the overwhelming feeling of life and needing to take a break from everything you were doing. "Be my annoying little sister for as long as you want, Me... the place is barebones but it's got the basics. And you can bring in whatever you want... I don't care." He considered that as he checked the chicken, then glanced over at his sister again. "Except men... please keep the men out of my house. Unless he makes it past date five."

a perceptive grin tugged at the corner of her lips as she watched the gray vapor curl from the skillet, her eyes tracking his movements as he moved between the icebox and the stove. she could practically read the silent, protective calculations running behind his eyes; that specific, deep indentation between his eyebrows a glaring signal. "oh, you absolutely must let me crash your next rendezvous with azra," esme insisted, her silver bands giving a bright, melodic chime as she tossed her hands skyward. "drop me on her doorstep without a word of warning. it's the only acceptable way to gauge a true reaction. i need to evaluate this new branch of the family tree and see if she possesses any actual aesthetic sensibility to lend to this sparse habitation."

she drifted away from the doorway, her bare soles making no sound against the dark timber as she reclaimed her spot near the table, admiring the developing feast. ebon's low chuckle regarding the local morning gossip brought a vivid spark back into her expression. "see? i told you!" she crowed softly, a triumphant gleam illuminating her features as she leaned forward. "the theater of the ordinary. i can already picture the headlines circulating at the local diner. unidentified female scales local duplex, disrupts brother's evening menu. this town is practically begging for a little bit of color."

predictably, she absolutely would inevitably dominate some of the local chatter. her brother didn't have to voice the threat aloud; she knew the exact flavor of that unspoken look. it was a guarantee, the implicit understanding that if any of the local townspeople turned their whispers into something cruel, he'd be at her defense. he had spent a lifetime standing between her and the wind, and that silent alliance hadn't changed one bit since they crossed the state line. but it was his actual spoken restriction, delivered with that solemn, older brother seriousness, that finally shattered her composure. esme let out a dramatic, ringing laugh that bounced off the unadorned walls of the kitchen, throwing her head back until her dark hair spilled over the edge of the seat.

"date five?" she echoed, her voice laced with exaggerated offense as she crossed her ankles over the edge of the furniture. "ebo, you vastly overrate my patience. most of them don't even survive past the opening act before i realize they are painfully dull. you have absolutely nothing to worry about. your precious, empty castle is entirely safe from my transient suitors. for the next few weeks, the only entity causing a ruckus under this roof is going to be me. now you gonna let me help with dinner?"