𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓴𝓮𝔂 𝓯𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻

“are you?” sure, you could argue and say she didn’t know him well enough to directly state he wasn’t eating, but she felt the cain she did know, would have demolished everything he had just made. not just what he had put on his plate. in kinder words he was a foodie, he liked to eat. so this was a certain way for her to tell he was struggling. she could see he was growing uncomfortable, it’s the little shift she noticed, though was it with what they were talking about or her? she assumed the former. perhaps even a mixture of the two. she gets that panicky feelings of there being someone out there walking freely after killing somebody close to him, she gets it would impact him— it’s normal, but she can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it. especially with the child portion  (  if even that  )  he had eaten. she knows through assumptions alone, the little snippets he’s told her, the way he bolts out of bed in the middle of the night— his frantic murmurs when he actually does sleep, that he’s not dealing and it’s a thought that makes her think his trauma is somehow mixing with the events that had happened the other night. she could be wrong, but it’s what she’s thinking. she’s making an attempt not to frown, she knew he was damaged— it’s something that had made her want to help him, but she can see especially now, that he either didn’t want people to care for him, or he was just so used to shrugging it off to the point he no longer knew how it felt to be cared for. it was like it was a burden for someone else to actually take the time and ask him how he was. as if it wasn’t needed. “i’m not asking you to change the way you are,” she thinks eventually he might let his guard down, but she’s not asking him to change overnight, “and i get you’re used to dealing on your own– or in a way you think you are,” that’s a subtle nod to the fact that she didn’t think he was actually coping at all, “but whether you answer me or not, or just change the subject,” briefly she gave part a smile, it’s not a dig, it’s more an i know what you’ve been doing, “whichever it is, what i want is for you to realise that i care when i’m asking how you are— i know you do,” she says before he jumps to his defence, “and whether you meet me a quarter of the way or not, i want you to feel that i do.” there was a difference between knowing and feeling it and her caring wasn’t just because she was naturally a worrier. that was different. watching she lightly chuckled at him, more at him being mushy. “i know,” she appreciated it, “and i know this isn’t something you usually do, so it means a lot.” that he was trying, it really did. “because as silly as it sounds, being with you,” as in dating, being a couple, “makes me nervous.”

“yes, i am.” his brow raised, tone just a little firmer than the last, but still somehow solemn. he got her point, he wasn’t eating for three like he usually did and she wasn’t used to it, but it wasn’t uncommon. not when shit hit the fan and his head span sideways. he wouldn’t say it at all, but the fact he was eating anything at all was a step. food over whiskey, company over isolation, they were huge steps for him, even if she couldn’t understand that. “no, i know. but you--” he paused, just because he had to look just a little bit amused by the fact he quite nearly said what he was going to say without missing a beat. “you make me wanna be better.” playing it down with a gentle smile and a shrug as he tipped his eyes toward the swish of liquid inside the beer bottle. “i know you do, leyla. you are not the issue.” he’s still smiling, almost like one of those silent wise men that look much like they understand how the entire world works. he’d be fucked if someone ever put that to the test, however. “really? so i probably shouldn’t ask you officially if you wanna be my girlfriend then?” there’s a cheesy little smile on his features. everyone kept calling her his girlfriend, it seemed a little odd at this point he hadn’t actually asked. but he was curious, if not a little surprised... “why does being with me make you nervous?”  

“who said you can’t be all three?” old, wrinkly, and wise? “though you’ve definitely got more wrinkles i mean..” she shrugged her shoulder, making a little gesture to his face, it’s cheeky but it’s banter. she meant no harm by it either. or more if he took her seriously, that was his fault, right? not that she thought he actually would. they gave as good as they got. the carter’s had that whole don’t dish out what you can’t take, which the limits were endless with how thick skinned they were. “to themselves, sure.” she counters his people who talk shit make the most sense, with a little smirk which told him she was messing. she felt the force of his hit as the two poles collided, telling her that their last spar wasn’t going to be one he’d just let her win because he was hungry. “anything else you want whilst you’re making a list?” she teased, smacking her stick against his, she makes her grip a little tight, more so she knew she had a firm hold. she’s trying to make him worn out again, all whilst taking the scolding he gave her on board— just like the last time. she’s mentally prepared, she’s got his voice in her head telling her to predict his unpredictable moves, all whilst steadying herself on her feet with the strength she felt on his part. it took a while, probably longer than it did the last time to knock him down but eventually she does it and she didn’t ease up either, more so because she thought he wouldn’t fall on his ass so when he does it’s because of the double pressure she was forcing to make it so. with a half a smirk plastered on her features she silently offers her hand out for him to get up. 

“one day i’ll be all three, but do you see a wrinkle on this flawless face? eye creases don’t count, they’re laughter lines.” he scoffed playfully. denial? sure, but until he started swapping whiskey for tea and a good night sleep, he’d argue he wasn’t old. cain’s merely rolling his eyes at her taunting, sure that they could bite back at each other for hours. shit, sometimes they often did, it was the right of a sibling. “don’t forget the drinks too,” with a playful wiggle of his brows, any and all amusement vanished as he got back into focus. these work outs weren’t just benefitting her and easing his own anxiety over her joining the mc, it was also a good way for him to distract himself. maybe he’d never say it out loud but he actually enjoyed spending this kind of time with her. sometimes he felt like their lives pulled them both in opposite directions and truth be told? he missed her. as a couple minutes ticked by, he was impressed with the way she blocked every one of his attempts to knock her down but it wasn’t until she caught him by surprise and did that to him, did he huff out a breath of air that broke into a light chuckle. “shit,” green eyes looked up to meet hers with a proud grin before he waved his hand and let his head drop back on the floor. “nope, down and out. can’t get up ‘till i reattach my pride. think you knocked it somewhere over there...” he teased, pointing a finger to the left of him before taking her hand, using his other to take most of his weight as he got back on his feet. “told ya.” that she could do it, that was. “i should have been a coach. really missed my calling with that one, huh? blowing whistles in the lazy kids faces all day and making them cry sounds hilarious.” well, at least it did to him. “right, c’mon. let’s pack up and go feed me.” 

“i didn’t see another option,” he said with an innocent shrug. abel knew that he hadn’t been thinking clearly. otherwise he would have called someone. usually he tried to avoid asking for any sort of help if he could. he was following cain over to a booth and he chuckled at the question,” pretty sure i broke his nose.” if all he did was come off with some bruised knuckles than he would consider it a win. he was shaking his head quickly, knowing that the guy’s pride had been hurt,” i don’t think so, he just ran off.” he was sighing as he noticed how cain was grabbing a bottle of whiskey. he nearly groaned since he already knew was coming. instantly hissing the second that the liquor hit the broken skin,” fucking shit!” he forced himself to hold still and shaking his head,” i can still move it so i think i’m good.” 

“ oh, please. that’s such bullshit & you know it. yeah okay, so you might not want to bring someone down or whatever, but it’s so obvious that the real reason none of you talk about anything is because you’re scared that you’ll unload too much & then that person will run for the hills, thinking you’re a terrible person who’s done terrible things. ” she didn’t quite intend to call him out like that, but she was blaming the whiskey for her sudden bluntness. maybe it wasn’t the best choice of drink, but it was too late for that now. “ okay, maybe that’s true, but it’s not going to stop me worrying any less. unfortunately, it’s just how i’m wired & if it means that i have to nag you all to be safe wherever you go, then so be it. ” rayanne waved a hand dismissively, her stubbornness evident in her words. topping up her own glass, she sighed quietly at the mention of the police. of course they were just doing their job, but it seemed to just be the same questions getting asked over & over. “ briefly at the ball & then again this morning while i was in the office. i’m sure they’ll get sick of me telling them that i don’t know jack shit soon enough. ” she shrugged her shoulders, mostly just a little frustrated that they were wasting their time questioning people like herself who clearly had no clue what was happening. “ yeah, well unless someone steps forward with literal blood on their hands, i doubt that’s going to happen. ”

“shit man,” he winced his features briefly; truth was he thought he was just fucking around earlier. apparently not.  he wasn’t about to start questioning him on why or how he got injured, he knew not to. it wasn’t because it was cain, it was out of respect. “ever miss it? or does the mc scratch that itch?” he knew of some people that could never sit still once they came home, it was hard to transition to normal after fighting wars for months or years on end. “yeah some fuckin tool somewhere is laughing at us all.” that’s what he thought, anyway. everyone knew how it looked and it was a case of sitting ducks. waiting for whatever the hell to happen next. he choked back a laugh, shaking his head a touch, “you and me both.” last thing he wanted was to be in a visibly divided town with everyone at each others throats, give him– them, a break, right? “you friends with some deep fuckers, man,” he chuckled, before deliberating, “can’t say he’s wrong though.”

“i miss it. i mean, i could do without the gunfire and general war, y’know, but i miss having a team. might sound strange but it was pure, y’know? that kinda loyalty doesn’t come for nothin’.” it was brotherhood, the faith you had to have in each other was much like the kind you needed in the mc. “it scratches an itch or two, yeah.” he chuckled. it wasn’t the same, though, but he wasn’t gonna dive in deep. “probably. kinda fucked when the police don’t even have shit to go on though.” as in, whoever did it? smart. covered their literal tracks. which only made him believe it was merely stage one of something that was gonna end up fucking them all. “hey, can’t all be just pretty faces, right?” chuckling, he shot back another drink before relaxing his hand away from his ribs. “seriously though, i appreciate what you did out there.” 

22. A one word text.

Family, ( which includes cj & co.) the MC, Leyla. Let’s be honest, he’d probably jump in front of a bullet to save anyone, that’s just his instinct.

( 1. A funny text )

Bloody Mary always put the shits up me as a kid, so I guess that one. Because I’m old and dumb enough now to give it a shot and hope I don’t get hexed.