𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢-𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎

✦ JEREMY ALLEN WHITE, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ✦ KENNETH CRAWFORD the TWENTY-NINE year old has been in Hidehill for HIS ENTIRE LIFE and was an AQUANTIANCE to Jade Parker, the missing first murder victim. Whispers on the streets are that the LINE COOK AT MEL’S DRIVE-IN DINER who lives in HADLEY PARK. He is said to be ACTIVE and CLOSED-OFF but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves.

“Okay.” She nods, his words make her smile, one that reaches her eyes. “I understand where you’re coming from, but you’re not hopeless, Crawford… you’re just recovering from something awful. Soon enough you’ll be back in full force.” Recovery needed patience and time, and something it wasn’t easy, so she understood him wholeheartedly. She doesn’t like depending on people in any way or form; she hates burdening them with her own issues when everyone’s battling their own, even though she’s always ready to help everyone. The list of people she would depend on if it ever came to it is small. It’s the people she trusted with her life. “It’s a milkshake? Milkshakes are great, excuse me,” she says with a light tone, feigning being shocked at his words. “I heard that person makes the best ones in town, you know.” She rests on hand on the counter, her cheek in her palm, giggling lightly at his words. “Yeah? I think so, too. We should let him know.”

x

While he knew her words to be true, that didn’t make it any easier. For ten years, he had been on his own, forgoing any future he could’ve, might’ve had otherwise in order to take care of his mom. While he had an emergency fund tucked away, there was still that fear in him, scratching with a nagging reminder that he needed the hours, he needed the money, the bills needed to be paid. “Well, whatever it is, I don’t like it.” It was almost comical how much of a hypocrite he felt. How often he had complained about working this job before and how desperate he was to get back to it now. He’d have signed up to make a thousand of those milkshakes if that’s what it took. “I didn’t say they weren’t great,” he corrected her, “just that it’s nothing special. I mean, milk, ice cream, this case chocolate sauce, whipped cream.” He raised his eyebrows, a silent way of saying it wasn’t that difficult. Or maybe it just hadn’t been given all the practice under his belt. At Gracia’s suggestion, Crawford shook his head. “No. No, can’t be feeding his ego. Next thing you know he’ll go full blown Bobby Flay.”

“i’m pretty sure you’re okay to skate around the rink with me.” she teased a bit. plus, it was a great source of exercising too. for mariana though, it was a tradition to come ice skating. though that died out shortly after she had turned sixteen.  that though was something she wouldn’t bring up. it was something she rarely even brought about around anyone. “food has always been and always will be your weak spot.” she pointed out.  despite the fact that it had been a while since they had dated, she still remembered his weak spots. and food was one of them. “if the doctors gave you the okay to drink then i can throw in a drink too.” she didn’t want to add in something if it wasn’t okay. that was the last thing she would do.

x

He nodded in agreement. Always had been the type for second helpings and room for dessert; it was perhaps his most expensive habit, part of why working in a kitchen had always made that little bit extra sense. “Yea, pretty rude of you to use it against me too.” He joked, shaking his head as he leaned down to tie up that last skate. “So long as I’m not mixing my meds, it’s all good.” A truth, or half of one. They hadn’t told him anything specifically, aside from lots of rest, don’t overexert himself, and take the meds as prescribed. He’d read the instructions. While he hadn’t followed up on the whole twice-a-day thing, he had stuck with not taking it with alcohol. But they didn’t need to dive too deep into that, and so Crawford rose from his spot on the bench. “This isn’t going to be pretty. Fair warning on that.”

…

Dilara drops her arms to her side as her blue orbs meet his. She matches the smile on her lips as she nods her head, turning to look over at the food. “Same,” She breathes as she moves to the counter, picking up the bag and moving towards his couch. She plops down onto the cushion as she raises her legs, crossing it. She lifts her eyes up to look over at him. “I got your favorite.” She smiles as she pulls out his little take-out box, placing it on the coffee table and doing the same thing with her own box. With Kingston focusing on his sister tonight and Nate at a party she was free to hang out for as long as Crawford wanted her here for.

x

Crawford let her escape his arms and take her route to the couch, while he circled around the counter, moving in the opposite direction. "Did you spring for extra guac?" He first asked, looking across the small space at her as his hand tugged on the refrigerator door. The soft light illuminated his features. "Do you want something to drink? Not sure if I'm you're in the mood for, uh, something stronger. Is it selfish that it feels like that kinda night?" It'd just been a text, sure, but here their world was again turning upside down.

…

All Dilara knew was she felt better in his arms, it was natural and it was the safest spot in the world. “That’s okay too.” She told him softly as she turns her head, resting her ear against his chest as she listens to his heart beat, it was something she didn’t realize she needed to hear. She breathes in as she nods her head, curling her fingers in the material of his shirt. “I don’t intend on letting you go either.” She told him softly as she breathes in again, pressing her lips together to hold back the smile wanting to curve her features. She lifts her head up as she turns her head to look over to the take out. “Still wanna eat semi-warm food and watch trash tv?”

x

His arms squeeze her tighter as her fingers curl into his shirt, the two of them manifesting  their promise in actions. As Dilara pulls up from the embrace, Crawford becomes keenly aware of the tears in her eyes. A hand slips free from her waist to rise to her cheek, thumb swiping along her cheekbone, wanting to whisk away any tears that may have fallen on his account. "I want nothing more," he replied, lips curved with a hint of a smile.

…

He speaks so effortlessly but it’s the I’m a fuck up that puts the frown on her features. Dilara shakes her head quickly as she drops her gaze to their hands for a moment. “You’re not a fuck up, Crawford. There is nothing wrong with going after what you wanted and I never should have made you feel like that was a bad thing to do.” She breathes out as she shakes her head, not realizing how emotional she was until the tears blur her vision. She steps closer and wraps her arms around him. “You’ll never lose me, Crawford. You’re too important to me to just let go.” She whispers.

x

Crawford is countering her shaking head with one of his own, battling against his own innocence. Then, words leave his mouth that even he hadn't considered until right then. "Maybe I don't know what I want." Or perhaps, better yet, maybe he didn't know what he needed. Though as Dilara wrapped her arms around him, he was certain that he needed that. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her body closer into his until they could practically feel each other's hearts beat in their chest. "Trust me, I don't intend to let you go."

…

Dilara knows she has nothing to be sorry for but she still cares about him and his heart. It’s why she threatened Lu, it’s why she couldn’t forgive Lu. Someone who was able to crush him and her so easily. She only focuses on him, sometimes it surprises her how long she can stare at someone in situations like this. Her head tilts to the side only slightly as he mentions that all he wanted was for them to be them. She nods her head as she clears her throat as she gives his hand another squeeze. “Well, we are us, okay? I’m not going anywhere… never.”

x

"I know," he nods his head, earnest in his words. Of course, he had known this about Dilara for sometime, that she was just someone that no matter what would show up. And it crushed Crawford to think that maybe it took all of this for him to appreciate it, or at least appreciate it in the way he should. "And I love you too. And I'm sorry if I'm a fuckup that doesn't show it enough. You're so..." Crawford pauses, swallowing hard. At times like this he wished he was better with words. "You're so important to me and I've been so scared to lose you."

location:  ice rink open to: @crawfxrd​

“oh no. you are not just going to sit here.” she pointed out a she tied up the skates that she had put on. the last thing she was going to let him do was to sit there and just watch. if she was going to skate, so was he. end of story. “just once or twice around the rink with me and then you can sit out if you want.” standing up from the bench, she turned to look at him. “i’ll even throw in me buying us something to eat after this too if you skate with me.”

x

While the skates had made their way onto his feet, Crawford had been slow in putting them on and lacing them up; his left one still remained loose. “You know, I think I remember the doctor telling me something about stay away from ice rinks,” he replied, joking in his obvious lie though his tone had remained flat. While not exactly the words out of their mouth, it had been the closest Crawford had come to listening to them. He was already pushing himself more and more at work and he should have needed to refill his pills a week ago but the tube remained mostly full. Crawford exhaled gruffly at the mention of food. “I forget you know my weak spots,” he muttered, shaking his head from side to side. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime since they’d dated, just two kids then. So much was different and yet, small things remained the same. “Throw in a drink and we’ll make it three whole laps.”

…

Dilara keeps her gaze on home, pressing her lips together when he mentions that he’s okay but he had been so far from it that night if Kingston hadn’t stepped between them she would have hugged him and forgave him right there because no one deserved to get hurt like that. “Yeah, doesn’t make it… I’m still sorry.” If anyone knew what it was like, it was her. She straightens her own posture for some reason but doesn’t remove her gaze from him. “It’s kind of hard to feel mad about something so… mundane when people are mourning, when the shadow is back…” when I’m seeing someone. She shrugs, giving his hand a little squeeze. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Lu earlier?”

x

Crawford shook his head before breathing his next words. "You don't have anything to be sorry for." If she even thought about speaking another apology, he was going to steal it from her lips. He wasn't interested in them whether sincere, false, pitying, filler. They could waste their breath speaking about far better things. "I know what you mean," he murmured, nodding his head in agreement before— that little squeeze. Crawford only knew, initially, how to answer that question with a shrug; the words were slow but eventually the formed. "I don't know. I mean, trust me it wasn't because I wanted to hide anything from you. I guess I just..." For a second his eyes shifted towards the roof his trailer— as he let his mind pass through all the visits in the hospital, her at his bedside, and then at the pair of them in Charlie's much-too-big mansion and that chocolate tequila and her hand in his through that crowd— before settling back on her. "I guess I wanted us to just be... us."

…

Dilara furrows her brows as his head keeps shaking but she didn’t know why he would be. She lifts her blue orbs up to his features as he begins to talk now, knowing that the second the elephant is addressed maybe she would be understanding but it also should have dawned on her, all of the hand holding that maybe he wasn’t exactly a thing with Lu but it hadn’t even hit her until he told her that they weren’t a thing anymore. Lu ended things at the hospital with him? Maybe it made sense because she knew that Lu and someone else had been a thing at one point too. This town did have a history of being messy, so, she wasn’t sure why she was surprised to hear that they actually weren’t together. “Are you okay?” It’s all that can leave her mouth because she knew how much Crawford had wanted Lu, she could remember the look on his face when he saw her with the other guy at the party. “I’m sorry… that it didn’t work out. You both deserve to be happy.”

x

Why did this conversation feel so backwards? He had been the one to hurt her and yet in the last few minutes she had been the one to apologize to him and ask him if he was okay. "I'm okay," he nodded, the answer simple even if maybe the situation was complicated. His eyes had drawn back up to meet hers, holding not a sadness but definitely a tired nature. "We didn't work. That's just how it is." His fingers flexed in her hand, for a moment Pierre weighing heavier. As if her presence wasn't already proof enough, the weight of that red plastic had been picking at him each time his mind drifted to this very topic: look at what you tossed away all for heartbreak. He rocked side to side as he shifted his feet, standing taller. "You're allowed to be upset by the way. You don't need to rationalize it out or give me excuses. Dils, I hurt you." Crawford wet his lips before biting down hard against his own teeth. Blue on blue. "I never should have done that."

…

Dilara didn’t know how to feel about the way the closeness made her heart thump a little quicker, her chest ache harder but all she could think about was how Crawford was the one person that wasn’t supposed to hurt her. She parts her lips, thinking about how the last time she talked about Crawford she really couldn’t figure out why she felt the way she did. How to put it into words without seeming selfish because really… at least he was alive. He was breathing in the same air as her and that thought along was enough too forgive him but it was there, under the surface gnawing away at her. “I know you are.” She whispers. “I do and I don’t really know how I feel if that makes sense but I feel um.. selfish for making you or her feel bad about what you guys have. I should’ve been more supportive because I love you..” She breathes. “Both, I love you both.” She clears her throat. “I’m sorry for being upset. It’s not like I didn’t know you broke up with me because you had feelings for someone else so I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. You weren’t cheating or mine so… i shouldn’t have acted like you were.”

x

Crawford had started to very slowly shaking his head from side to side from the moment the word 'selfish' had passed from her lips. As she continued on the reasons he shook his head had just kept expanding, specifically when it had become clear that she didn't know what had happened between him and Lu in the hospital, the conversation, the end of sentence. Crawford had held that to his chest, no moment ever feeling right, not if it meant tilting the scales and risking miscommunication. But not telling her wasn't communication at all and Dilara deserved better— that was why they were here having this conversation. "Her and I..." he started, though quickly petered off, his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. With a breath and shift of his feet, Crawford tried again. "Her and I aren't a thing. We're not together or seeing each other. She, uh, came to visit me in the hospital," he started deciding then and there that a full story was better than a generalization. His eyes shifted lower, looking off towards their intertwined fingers as he spoke. "We ended things. I mean, she ended things but I agreed. It wasn't... we weren't working." A thought rang in his head but didn't dare speak it aloud: 'I was wrong'.

…

Dilara glances down towards their hands as his fingers lace with her. She breathes in deeply, holding it because she is torn between having that tough conversation and pretending like the elephant in the room doesn’t exist. It’s not like she has a right anymore. She’s dating Nate. She really likes him. It’s the first relationship she’s had that is hers with a guy who is picking her but at that thought she realizes how deeply she holds onto how much Crawford hurt her. She steps with him when he tugs at her hand but she stops, pulling him back as she lifts her blue orbs to him. “I think we have to talk about what happened before Halloween, Crawford… I don’t… I can’t pretend anymore.”

x

Crawford had been ready to curl up on the couch, be selfish in casting that Shadow's return to the sidelines and letting himself sink into the night with Dilara. But that was far too uncomplicated and the truth was they were still a tangled mess, feelings and unspoken things knotted up. His shoulders drop as she references what happened, a sadness passing through his gaze as he stepped back into her. "I don't want you to," he breathed, voice low. It hurt having to go back to this, to revisit how he had hurt her, but it wasn't fair of him to ask her to forget it. "Whatever you have to say, say it. I know I never actually got to tell you that I was sorry." Crawford squeezed his eyes and wrinkled his nose, quickly correcting himself, "That I am sorry."

…

“I mean… the shadow being back. We don’t know what’s going to happen. We all stood there and said that it was going to be okay, that we were going to catch him we told people who aren’t here now they were going to be okay and it was all a lie. So, I’m not gonna stand here and promise it’s going to be okay when I don’t know of it is.” She frowns, moving to face him as she steps closer to him, taking his hands. In that moment, maybe she was dumb. “All I know is I’m not going anywhere, okay? So, we are going to hang out, eat this take out and watch trash TV, alright? Whatever happens after tonight I’m here.”

x

As Dilara spoke, Crawford watched her, listening intently as naturally his thumb brushed along her skin. Touching with them was instinctual, a response that had refused to be unlearned after all their time shared together. He didn't interrupt, waiting for her to get all the words out because a night like this stirred up a lot of thoughts and worries that they'd all thought had been buried with Ronnie Nilsson in the ground. "I'm here too, Dils," he assured her, finally, his fingers moving in her grasp until he had laced them with hers. "Maybe I can't promise you anything else but I can promise you that." Blue eyes staring into blue. She had to know he cared, no part of him had ever been more transparent. It all still felt like tricky ground though so after a beat, he stepped back, tugging at her hands. "So what are we watching tonight? Think its your turn to pick."

…

“I am starvin’.” Nash murmurs, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep then warm as he uses his foot to shut the driver’s side door of his car. “No, I’m in this friendship in hopes you’d let me have a piece of that ass.” The smirk curves his lips instantly as a low chuckle leaves his lips, nudging the man with his arm to turn him. “Plus it is not my fault you make one hell of a burger.”

x

"Not my problem." He pushed himself off the building shaking his head, having spent the better part of ten minutes waiting for his friend's car to pull around front. There was time, almost too much of it, before he'd needed to get going, so Crawford lingered near the curb, willing to play this bantering game. With a soft tsk, he pressed his lips into an almost sad sort of smile, "Not this week." Then a nudge to his arm, his good arm, and a compliment and Crawford was batting him away with a swipe. "Hey, don't think just because you sweet talk me I'll give you special treatment. Buttering me up ain't gonna work."

…

Dilara pulls her hands away from the bags as she turns to face him, stepping closer and into his space. Of course, the two of them had been in each other’s bubbles since that night with each hospital visit, the very first one testing a boundary she hadn’t realized she had with them because she never had one. In the two years since their relationship she never remained cautious about invading his space until those words left her friend’s mouth then she found herself questioning every touch, word, breath, gesture. Even this felt wrong. She reaches up, placing her hands on each side of his neck. “Whatever the hell happened tonight with those text messages. We will figure it out.” She presses her lips together. “I can’t promise anything beyond that.” She pulls her hands away, turning to the bag of food she found it almost impossible to want.

x

Crawford had already felt behind before, but her tender touch to his neck had caused him to stall completely. When that text had come through, he’d been behind not able to catch up just a quickly as she had but the second he saw it Dilara had been at the forefront of his mind. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, not grasping what might be obvious. His feet shifted, him wholly unable to be still, not with this worry. But his hands— his hands were fixed on her. A low  hum passed through him and all his bones and skin, flooding towards the wound at his side. It hummed, like it was waiting for another. "I feel like you're not saying something. If there's something, please, fuck, please say it."

“I don’t know, you could have other plans? Of course you’re not Cinderella, you’re Crawford,” she jokes lightly, but it’s one of those moments where she wants to face palm at herself for saying lame things. She’s happy he’s free, she feels like she hasn’t seen him in a few days with how hectic it’s all been. “People usually like not having to run errands, no?” She smiles. She likes running errands, it got her busy and out of her trailer. “Do you want milkshake? Someone just made it for me, give me your opinion,” she jokes again, offering the milkshake for him. He was the one to make it, obviously.

x

“These are my plans,” he assured her, even shifting on the bar stool so he settled in better, asserting that this was where he planned to be for the next however long. “Yea, most probably. I just... I don’t know, don’t like feeling helpless.” Crawford had made it this far on his own, no dad at his side, mom unable to. It felt like a badge of honor in the same way it felt like a hindrance, a hurdle. But it was his hurdle. “It’s a milkshake,” Crawford responded dryly, a short laugh following, “I’d hope someone didn’t fuck it up.” He leaned back to grab a fresh straw from one of the countertop caddies, before sticking it into the shake and giving it a sip. “Think that man’s good at his job.”

…

Dilara furrows her brows when she notices how he basically lunges off the couch the second she walks inside. She shuts the door behind her and locks it, furrowing her brows as she walks over to the kitchen counter, placing the bags on it. “It’s not from Mel’s.” She teases as she starts to open the bags, not sure even how to begin the conversation but she couldn’t stop thinking about Scout’s words and how everything she said was pretty much everything she thought a month ago. She turns her head to look over at him when she draws in and reaches out to touch the crook of her elbow. Her blue orbs drop to his fingertips brushing against her skin as she swallows, lifting her eyes up towards him. “I was hoping you hadn’t seen it yet.” She turns to lean up against the counter. “I don’t know what to think about the… whole Shadow thing. All I’ve really heard or talked about tonight was the messages because of Scout. So, I left Kingston with his sister, Des so they can comfort Scout whenever she decides to come home but then I thought about the Shadow and you so… Thought we’d have a little late night meal.” And maybe a conversation? But it seemed wrong now.

x

Of course he knew it wasn't from Mel's. Still, despite everything, he laughed briefly before biting his tongue. There was no humor him how he felt tonight, so as Dilara's eyes met his, Crawford took it seriously, hanging on word, waiting. Then needing to nod harder as his eyebrows drew together harshly, the situation sounding much more complicated than maybe it ought to have been. "If you think that stopped my worry, you're wrong." His heartbeat continued to thrum, thought the space between his body and hers seemed to narrow, Crawford finding comfort in the depleted space. A knot twisted in his stomach. Somewhere in him he knew to be brave. "Dils, until you look me in the eye and tell me it's okay, I'm not built to believe it."