sleep on the floor.

[ lily james. cis woman. she + her. ] did you hear that marley callahan is currently living in charming, california? she’s a thirty year old who has been in town for about six months, and is a server at hale’s diner. it’s known around town that she’s quite flirtatious but can also be flighty. people in charming always say they’re reminded of marls when thinking of strawberry milkshakes, the wind in your hair, unabashed laughter, the feeling of the sun on your face and smell of salt in the air. [ tabitha, 21, arizona, she/her ]

_________

“Were we?” A sly smirk curved at the corner of his lips. The first couple nights alone after spending several with Marley were always hard for Walker. He didn’t know why he hadn’t asked her to just move in with him already– likely for the same reasons he hadn’t asked her to be his girlfriend yet either. Walker was scared that if he let something good into his life, it’d only be one more thing for people to use against him. His debt collectors, for instance, were surely looking for anything they could dangle over Walker’s head to get him to repay. He’d be damned if anyone ever so much as laid a pinky on Marley. 

Walker sat back patiently as she finished up on him, the stinging of the antiseptic wipes slowly started to fade at last. Sure he looked pretty bad, but nothing that would keep him off his feet. Walker could take a punch, or several, and walk it off like nothing. He was so stubborn about getting back in the ring and asserting himself as one of the strongest. More importantly, he needed the money to start paying off his debts. When he came to Charming, he thought he’d be here for a short spell before having to run off when his past caught up with him. 

And then he met her. On Tinder of all places even. He knew just from texting with her for a few days that she wouldn’t be like everyone else, she wouldn’t fall for his bad boy, fighter schtick. So he pretended to be a lawyer, he knew some things as he had originally wanted to become one. And it almost worked if he hadn’t shown up at her place the next night in need of someone to do some quick stitches on his chest. After just one night with her, Walker considered making Charming a permanent home. 

“That still leaves tonight.” He smiled softly. Walker felt his cheeks burn at the lift of her eyebrows, and his heart certainly sped up in his chest. “I’ll fill up your car and pick you up after work?” His head tilted as he leaned in closer to her, eyes flitting between her mouth and her eyes. 

—

He was impossible to stay mad at. Not that Marley was mad--not that she had any good reason to be. Walker was a grown man, he could do whatever it was he wanted, didn’t need her or anybody else’s permission to go and get his ass handed to him on any given day of the week. She wasn’t his mother or his girlfriend or his wife, had no obligation to help him, even when he showed up at her door time and time ago, broken and bloodied and needing to be put back together again. Marley wasn’t a fixer, she was just a woman who’d swiped right on a Tinder profile she’d found to be attractive and matched. He was supposed to have been a lawyer, and oh, did he have her fooled. What was meant to have been one night of passion had somehow turned into this, and none of it even mattered when he smirked that damn smirk at her, and she knew that even if she swore this time would be the last, him and those lips of his would find a way to worm right back in. It was incredibly frustrating...if not stupidly addicting.

“Mhm.” Was the only answered given back, returning her focus to the last few bandages needing to be placed. He was always incredibly patient with her when they were like this, Marley’s first aid training not put into use every day. While she didn’t mind blood and bruises, there was perhaps a reason she’d never entered the nursing field. She didn’t think she necessarily had a knack for caring for things.

She was pleased to see the burn to his cheeks, knowing her implication was not lost on him. Her head nodded, face appearing innocent, as if to ask oh, does it? I hadn’t noticed. But there was no denying the look in her eye, even at five in the morning, even with his face looking like that, bandaged up but moving closer to her, eyes torn between her own and her mouth. The desire she had for him...and perhaps something more.

Not enough, however, to let him drive her car. 

“How ‘bout I come pick you up after work, hm?” She didn’t move away, their foreheads barely touching, eyes locked on his with a smile. “...and then you can fill up my car.” 

“Is that what they call it?” Olive replies, squinting. “A supply closet? Makes sense.” Oh to be ignorant and painfully so; she slides off the top of the washing machine without much energy, fishing into both pants pockets for the key. Honestly, the master key is about the sickest thing anyone could have ever given her – it’s a total abuse of power on some days, but it’s what makes this job interesting. Otherwise she’d be stuck making toilet paper towers in the middle of the lobby when Tuesday afternoons are the slowest.

“A soda, too? Buttering me up with tons of processed sugar and salt, I love it. Smart play, Marls, as always.” She’s smart, pretty, but wicked sly. It’s probably the doe eyes that keep it concealed, but Olive’s learned to know better. Clocking her an out-of-town snooze was a grave mistake, because Marley made this place fun. Exciting. Olive couldn’t be the only one busting her ass.

“Do they have Dr. Pepper in that thing? I don’t know when that was replaced, honestly. I could be poisoning myself.”

Truthfully, Marley hadn’t thought much of Olive after her departure from the yacht. Rarely did she think of past guests, no matter how fun or horrid or noteworthy they may have been, after they were no longer under her care. They all tended to blend together anyways, unreasonable requests and stuck up-ness and attitudes...but it was all worth it for the tip at the end, and the paycheck she received, the sights she got to see. There wasn’t much Marley couldn’t grin and bear. Luckily, from what she’d remembered about Olive’s time aboard her ship, she hadn’t had to let much slide, because the girl had been genuine fun. The kind that could have gotten Marley in trouble for partaking in while on the clock...but the kind she’d partaken in anyways.It was odd, for the tables to be turned, but Marley didn’t find herself enjoying the woman’s company any less, though she couldn’t deny there was a difference.

“I know, who woulda thought?” Not knowing if the other was joking or not, Marley let the conversation drop, turning her focus to the task at hand: snacks. She punched in the correct number for the Frito’s, watching them drop unceremoniously down the machine. “I’m just a generous woman, what can I say?” She laughed, surveying her own options and coping a bag of chips for herself. 

Admittedly, Olive had a point about the vending machines, which not only had slim pickings, but was hard to tell just how old the few items in it were. There was in fact Dr. Pepper, however. “Tell you what, I’ll get one too. That way it’ll take both of us and neither has to go out alone.” Death by Dr. Pepper. That was one way to go.

“They look that bad, don’t they?” Blue threw his head to the side in defeat, a hand thrown out into the air in leftover frustration. “The machine at my place is always broken, and I thought they finally fixed it when it was late as hell. I had to haul ass over here with wet clothes. I just threw them in.”

He had been taking more shifts at the pharmacy, especially the later ones. It kept him awake for the most part as Blue had started to find it easier to sleep during the day. It kept him sober most nights but he had his ways to stay awake despite the call of sleep that defeated that intention. 

“I washed them right with darks. New ones none the less,” Blue grumbled under his breath, running a hand over his head and through his hair. “Tell me there’s a way to salvage them, Marls.”

“No, no, honey, they don’t look that bad.” Marley did her best to stifle her laughter. It was clear that there was actual frustration Blue was feeling, but she also couldn’t help but feel as if this were all a bit comical. The classic one red sock in a load of whites, resulting in pink clothes bit. The results on Blue’s own clothes wasn’t nearly as drastic (she means, really, who owns red socks, anyways?), but she didn’t think he’d find her anecdote quite as charming as she did. “Been there, honey. It’s a rough one.” She offered him a comforting smile, closing the door of her own washer with her hip as she stood to properly assess the damage.

“Now, what you committed is the cardinal sin of laundry washin’...but that’s okay. We’ve all been there.” Not that Marley thinks she’s ever washed a white sweater with a new pair of jeans, but...“all hope is not lost yet.” She hoped by being a bit dramatic about it herself, Blue would not only feel validated in his dramatics, but perhaps find the humor in them, like Marley was. “I’m gonna let you in on Marley Callahan’s bonafied, foolproof clothes whitenin’ method...and really, you don’t have to thank me, it’s fine, glad to help a friend out--” She teased, reaching down into her laundry basket to pull out the small box that would (hopefully) solve all of (well, not all of) Blue’s problems. 

Plopping the box right down on top of his washer with a flourish, Marley grinned. “Bakin’ soda.”

sofia ended up in the laundromat after realizing that most of the stuff in her locker at work was dirty. usually she was on top of everything, but somehow it just happened to slip her mind. thank god she was going in early or she would’ve been screwed. the brunette was deep in her phone when marley came up to her, not even looking up she tilted her head over at her bottle of tide. “i bought it on the way over here, you can just have the rest of it. i will take a snack though.”

“An angel in disguise.” Marley sighed out the compliment, doubling as her thank you, as she reached over to grab the bottle of detergent from the top of the woman’s machine. She’d just been hoping for enough to cover this load of laundry, but the whole bottle had been offered, and she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth...even if it was a bad deal on Sofia’s end. “Anythin’ your heart desires, like I said. I’ve got a pocketful of quarters and,” by the looks of it, “a freshly stocked vendin’ machine. The possibilities are endless.” Marley laughed, throwing her hair up quickly as she got to work loading up the washing machine. “Let me get this goin’ and I am all yours.”

-

Walker never bothered fighting her when he was met with rejection, mostly because it never stuck for long. Somewhere along the line, he always managed to say the right thing and Marley would reluctantly agree to a small dinner and maybe even a drink or two. Marley always made sure he knew that she didn’t have to put up with his shit. And Walker very well knew that, he knew if he pushed things too far that she had every right to distance herself from him. No one deserved to have the role of personal caretaker thrusted upon them so abruptly. Walker needed to clean up his act and get his life together, he just never even knew where to start. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as the newly cleaned wounds started to sting. “They already put me on the roster– it’s quick, I swear. It’s some newbie in town who thinks he’s hot shit. I just have to knock him in his place real quick so he stops annoying the shit out of everyone.” Walker scoffed as he removed the towel from his nose to check if it stopped bleeding. When it did, he tossed the trash away so his hands could fold in his lap.

“Look.” Walker wrapped his hands gently around her wrists to pull her hands slowly from his face so they could finally look at each other. “I’m sorry.” His tone was genuine as he gazed at her, eyes flitting between each of the freckles on her face. “I– I knew going in last night that I wasn’t going to have the best luck. It was some massive douche hyped up on ‘roids and I haven’t gotten decent sleep since last Tuesday.” One of his hands dropped from her wrist to hold the side of her face gently. “I’m sorry, Marley, but I have to go later today. Then I can take a little break.” Walker promised with a nod. 

His thumb rubbed gently against her cheek, “I can pick you up from work tonight, we can go back to my place…” Walker trailed off, grinning at her and kissing the fingers of the hand he was still holding. “Just us for a few nights. Nothing else.” Walker’s voice was soft and barely audible, a tone he only ever saved for Marley. 

—

They already put me on the roster. It’s quick. It’s just some newbie. His excuses were ignored by Marley, who’d heard them before and therefore had lost all their meaning. Her displeasure must’ve been clear on her face, or perhaps in her lack of response, putting her focus onto cleaning out the various wounds that littered his face, and perhaps getting slight (hypocritical) satisfaction in knowing that the antiseptic was giving him the smallest bit of extra discomfort. As soon as she thought it though, she knew it wasn’t true, preparing to lower her hands to switch to the bandages when he gripped her wrists.

There was no hiding from him then. For someone who’d taken at least eleven (eleven) blows to the head, Walker’s gaze was surprisingly focused. Marley didn’t consider herself someone who backed down from a challenge (perhaps they were similar, that way), but in the moment, she wanted nothing more than some reprieve, to avert her gaze and escape the weight of his eyes on her. And yet, she also felt incapable of moving, as if the weight were a physical thing, keeping her pinned beneath his gaze, the way his hands kept her wrists pinned to her lap. 

She remained silent, even as a hand reached up to cup her face, even as he made her promises, kissed her fingers. Put on that Walker Atthill charm that worked every time, that completely transformed him from the man with the bloodied nose and bruised torso, to the man she’d first been introduced to. It was hard to believe they were the same man sometimes.

Just when it felt as if her silence could stretch on forever, Marley said, “we were together on Tuesday.” 

They’d certainly done more than sleep, but it was the last time Walker had occupied her bed, and it wasn’t a detail in his confession that she’d missed. With a sigh, Marley’s face shifted, playful eye-roll pairing with a begrudged smile as she removed his hand from her face and placed it back in his lap. The bandages weren’t going to apply themselves.

-

Walker let out a deep sigh when he saw her reflection in the mirror. He never liked when she saw him like this. So many times they talked about Walker getting his shit together. Whenever he wound up like this, which was far from rare, he felt like he was only disappointing her. Though his sigh was also out of relief, mostly because Marley knew him better than anyone. She knew all the curves, bumps, scars, and bruises of his body and never hesitated when she cleaned him up.

“Stopped counting after eleven.” Walker said quietly as he dropped the lid on the toilet to sit on top of it. He pulled a stool from behind the toilet to put in front of himself for Marley to sit. “Why are you here?” His lips curved down into a frown, it was still dark outside, and Charming wasn’t a place where anyone should’ve been walking alone late at night. But her truck caught his eyes out in the shop beyond the bathroom door. “It’s really not that bad– I swear. Surface damage, you know?” Walker attempted a small smile, but he winced sharply as his torso moved the wrong way, causing the area where a bruise already formed to throb. 

He took another deep breath, leaning over in pain before straightening up again so Marley could assess the damage on his face first. “Wanna go to dinner tonight?” His smirk graced his lips once more. It was so like him, to ask Marley out on a date when he looked like he shouldn’t be going anywhere but to bed for the foreseeable future. Walker could never help himself around her though, for once he didn’t want to purposely screw something up to avoid getting close to someone. 

“I can clean up pretty good, you know that. After this afternoon’s fight I’ll have enough for a nice dinner at Ribshack.” Walker laughed lightly, studying her face closely as she worked on cleaning him up. “Marley.” He just said her name softly, the side of his face leaning against her hand as she worked on him. 

—

Eleven. “Jesus Christ.” Marley winced internally, though her face remained unphased, head shaking (in disbelief? Disappointment?) as she tested the temperature of the water with her fingers. She didn’t believe in God, but she might have been able to subscribe to the belief that Someone up there existed if Walker had managed to somehow stumble here all on his own in the state he was in. In the light of the bathroom, Marley could see the full extent of his damages, and she frankly couldn’t fathom how he’d even managed to stand. It hurt just to look at him.

He’d come here for a reason, she imagined, and upon opening up the medicine cabinet above the sick, the first aid supplies available there were bound to be it. Marley reached for the bandages and antiseptic wipes, as well as the paper towels she’d dampened under the running tap. “I’m here because the last time I checked, this was the place where cars come to get fixed up.” Not people, but she supposed he couldn’t just casually go strolling into the ER several times a week looking worse for wear each time--not without drawing some suspicion. Raising her eyebrows at Walker, as if to dare him to disagree, Marley situated herself on the stool in front of him. “Surface damage. Right.” It was clear she was unconvinced, but a pang of guilt pulled in her stomach anyways as he hunched over in pain, head practically in her lap. If her hands hadn’t been full, she might’ve placed them in his hair, offer whatever comfort she was able. 

Before she could consider doing so though, Walker sat up, and any sort of guilt Marley felt disappeared at just the sound of his next five words. Her eyes nearly rolled out of her head, bringing the damp paper-towel up to his nose and forcefully bringing up his left hand to hold it there while she began to work on different parts of his face. “The only dinner you’re gonna be eatin’ tonight is a handful of ibuprofen. This is gonna swell.” An antiseptic wipe was ripped open with her teeth, and used to dab at the wound nearly hidden amongst his hairline.

She’d let the rejection settle for a moment, just to wound his ego a little, but when she parted her lips, it was to ask so where are you taking me? However, Walker beat Marley to it, and the smile that’d finally begun to settle on her lips wiped straight clean. “This afternoon?”

This time, Marley was in true disbelief, dropping her fingers from his skin and shaking her head. “You’re gonna go out there again, in this state? Do you actively have a death wish?” She’d never considered herself as nurturing, but even in her exasperation, she couldn’t seem to stop cleaning him up. Perhaps she just needed the distraction, patching up his face preventing her from wanting to punch it...among other things, when he leaned into her touch like that. Said her name, just to say it.

Air pods were comfortably stationed in Seonho’s ears, volume kept on low so that he could make out the noise of his two youngest siblings hanging in the background of the laundromat, diligently working on their homework as he worked on a song that had been plaguing him for the better part of the year. The other two were otherwise occupied at their after-school activities. Between all of them, laundry felt like the chore that he could never catch up on, and coupled with all of the washing he had to do at the motel, it was the one that he dreaded most. 

As one of the dryers he was using beeped in indication that the load was done, Seonho made a beeline for the machine after setting down his notepad with one of his many laundry baskets in hand. Catching enough of the request next of him to get the gist, Seonho reached for his pocketed phone and paused his music, surprised to see Marley when he popped his head up from where he was kneeling on the ground and piling clothes into a heap. “You know you don’t have to go this far out for laundry service. The motel has a spot,” he informed her kindly with a warm smile to match as he stood up to grab his detergent from the top of the washer next to him. “The dryer available to guests kind of sucks though, so you have to cycle through multiple times if you don’t want to deal with damp clothes.” As he prattled on with his advice, he extended the lavender-scented bottle in her direction. “Here, no need to worry about any kind of compensation.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. 

—

It was a pleasant surprise for Seonho to be the stranger she’d asked for a kindness, a wide grin pulling at Marley’s lips at the sight of him. She didn’t see him much outside of the motel, except for maybe the occasional pop into Hale’s and that one time where he happened to be driving the Uber she’d ordered, but it was nice to see him outside of the usual dim lighting and slightly mildewy smell that tended to linger there.

“Oh, I know, but the last time I used one of the washer’s there, it left my clothes smellin’ all funny and I ended up bringin’ them here anyways, so I figured I’d just save myself some detergent.” Or it would have, if she’d had any detergent to save. “You can see how well that did me.” Her smile turned half-embarrassed, though she really didn’t feel as much, accepting the bottle from his more than willing pass. She had no qualms about accepting the favor and leaving it at that, but she faked hesitation anyways, tilting her head to look at him. “Are you sure? There could be a pack of Oreos with your name on ‘em in about thirty seconds, just say the word...”

Blue pulled the last of his laundry out of the machine ready to swap what he had noted as the one with the fastest swirl of color of them all. His haste would come to bite him in the ass had he moved to swap the laundry, only to notice that there was a small dullness to his whites as he pulled them out to stick them into the dryer. He had left nearly a quarter of the previous load, his mind racing faster than the spin of the washer, and it was no less than his own fault. He didn’t like to linger anywhere, and now he’d have to stay just to fix his mistakes. 

It pulled an eye roll from him, and he clutched to the distraction as someone approached him. “I don’t know when the last time they swapped those snacks out was, so I’ll just be a good samaritan,” He said, piercing the scowl on his face with a forced smile to will away his frustration. Blue held up the bottle of detergent. “It’s not the best, but it gets the job done.”

“You know, that would explain the stale crackers I bought outta there two weeks ago...” Marley scrunched her nose at the thought, as if the expired snack still haunted her to that day, though it was very likely that considering the amount of time she would be spending at the laundromat that day, she would find herself dropping a buck twenty five for the very same stale crackers and slightly warm soda. 

Hiding out in the laundry room may not have been one of her finer moments, but if she’s off the clock and sitting at her desk? Some weirdo with three teeth will surely come walking in to request a vacant room. Gross. So Olive does what Olive can do best: hide, curled up on the top of machine as she scrolls through an endless loop of Tiktoks diagnosing her with another ailment.

Pausing the audio when the other woman speaks up, she plucks out a headphone with a furrowed brow. “Trade some what? Detergent? Does it look like I have some in my back pocket?” Maybe that was rude. Squinting, Olive flickers her attention to the supply closet in the corner. “I have the keys to the extra shit if you would buy - me - Fritos.” She pauses. “Pa-retty please?”

—

Judging from Olive’s response, it was a good day for her. Marley was relieved, as she’s seen what a bad day looks like for Olive, and she hates to say that she was almost certain there were worse. She didn’t take it personally, not one to hold grudges or expect people to be anything but what they were. Besides, her and Olive go way back (as way back as someone could go with Marley), and she couldn’t say that about too many people. There was something almost comforting about knowing her outside the realms of this place, a kind of comfort that kept back the walls Marley felt were slowly beginning to press in on her, the way she began to feel anytime she occupied somewhere for too long. It was manageable for now, but when she began to feel that itch...

“Hm, if only there was, I don’t know, Ol...a closet, full of supplies for doin’ laundry...some may even call it a...supply closet?” Whether it was Marley’s egging on, or simply Olive remembering the fact that she does indeed work for the place, her attention turned towards the door behind them, and Marley bartered her way into clean clothes for the small price of a bag of Fritos. “Consider it done. I’ll even throw in a soda for the trouble.”

closed starter for @charmingmarley​​ from rohan lakra

Inhaling a breath of fresh air, Rohan leans against his pickup truck. “This is the best spot in town,” they boast to Marley, moving to stand at the edge of the cliff that overlooks the entirety of Charming. “You can make out every landmark in town from this angle. Look, there’s the Shack.” They point at one of the small buildings that could be barely made out in the distance if one squinted. “Charming does have its…forgive the pun, but it has its charm.” He can’t deny that it also has more than its fair share of problem, especially when one considers the population, but he can’t imagine living anywhere else at this point in his life. They certainly are not rushing back to the United Kingdom anytime soon. There is too much work to be done. “What would you say has been your favorite spot so far?”  

Rohan was looking at the view, but Marley was looking at Rohan. There was a certain kind of pride that overtook their features when they did things like this together--a kind that intrigued Marley, and maybe even one she was jealous of, if she thought about it too deeply. She knew that he wasn’t from here, but you never would have been able to tell from the way they occupied this town, like they couldn’t breathe it in any deeper. It was only when Marley was encouraged to look that she blinked back to herself, pushing off from her spot against Rohan’s truck to join them at the cliff’s edge. It was a gorgeous view, the sun setting over the town in streaks of pink and orange, and if she looked close enough, yes, she could see the Shack, which managed to bring a smile to her lips, or maybe it was just Rohan’s pun that did so.

“Looks a lot smaller from up here.” Not just the Shack, but Charming in general. He wasn’t wrong, though--the city had it’s charm, and though she’d occupied it for almost half a year now, it still hadn’t managed to wear off just yet, which simultaneously relieved and terrified Marley. Terrified was the least of what she was feeling in the moment, however, tilting her head to look up at Rohan. Her lips twisted to the side as she thought of an answer. “Does the back of your truck count?” The grin that took over made it clear she was only (mostly) joking, stalling for a few extra seconds to think before stating definitely, “I like Revival.” The town’s local record store was one she’d spent quite a bit of time in over the months, chatting with Javier, or just browsing aimlessly. “But this is a close second.” She appreciated them for showing her around like this. 

open to: anyone where: revival records @charmingextras​​

“Yeah, if I’m honest, I don’t know why the storefront’s looking like that, either.” January Favorites was a poll only five people took – including himself – for the future of Revival Record’s coveted window spot. A collection of Imagine Dragons displaying proudly before people enter wasn’t his idea, but he was outnumbered 4 to 1. February wasn’t going to be a democracy, but Javier still pointed to the window to the person at the other side of the counter.

“What records scream February Feature to you?”

It wasn’t that Marley had anything against Imagine Dragons. Had she heard more of their music than she’d gone out of her way to through their constant radio airtime? Perhaps, but when you were prone to as many long car rides as Marley was, everything starts to feel a bit overplayed. Admittedly, she’d internally groaned upon seeing it in the window of Revival Records for the last month, and was secretly glad for February’s approach.

Well, secretly up until she informed Javier, whose response was to ask her her opinion for February’s featured albums. It was the best response Marley could’ve hoped for.

“I thought you’d never ask, Javi.” With a grin he probably should have been afraid of, Marley leaned away from the counter and made her way to the record displays further inside the store. She knew exactly what it was that she was looking for, and after flicking her fingers through the correct alphabetized group, pulled out the record and held the cover close to her chest to keep it a surprise until it was held out at arms length in front of her for his viewing. Her ta da was implied in the gesture.

Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On. It was clear in her grin that she was quite proud of her choice. “One of the most romantic albums ever recorded.” And it was the month of love, after all.