c'est la vie!

her head throbs as her world begins to spin, shaking hands reaching out for the dashboard in hopes that it will come to and end. she laughs dryly when she hears sebastian’s voice, tired eyes avoiding his for as long as she can. she feels completely numb, as if someone had torn her from reality and she’s been desperately trying to claw her way back for the past two hours. wet eyes widen like a deer in headlights as he reaches for her cheek, instantly recoiling when his skin brushes against hers. 

“ no ! ”  she answers, a little defensively.  “ i don’t–i don’t think so. ”   she runs her fingers through her hair, something she does when she’s nervous or stressed. it usually helps to calm her nerves but this time is different.   “ fuck. fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck ! ”  she smacks her hand against her own head in frustration, hoping that it would somehow trigger her memory by force. she feels like she’s losing her mind, or perhaps it’s already lost and someone’s burned the map to ashes. her thoughts are racing, or they’re moving in slow motion, too slow to make sense of them – she’s not sure. she’s never been this unsure of anything in her entire life. panic flashes behind her eyes as she meets sebastian’s, nimble fingers reaching out to clutch at his arm, something, anything to ground herself to this plane of existence. “ will you… stay with me ? ” 

the wheels start rolling and they disappear into the fog of the night ;   whatever scout was doing in those part, that late at night, he knew it couldn’t have been good, and that there could be no trace left of her there.  lady luck, unsteady as she was, seemed to be on their side tonight, however, seeing as there were no apparent witnesses to confirm this exchange ever happened to begin with. 

he’s been strangely, uncharacteristically silent - maybe because he’s dreading that if he keeps insisting on what’s wrong she might actually tell him.  something bad happened. you have to understand - scout isn’t the type of person who cries when she scratches her leg, or falls off a window for that matter; so he knows, whatever it was, it was bad.  he wants know, and he wants to live in blissful ignorance, all the same. tiny fingers grasp clutch at his arm, grounding him back in reality, reeling his mind back from whatever pit it had crawled into  -  he glances at her, however briefly, road on his peripheral,   “    we’ll talk about it at the hotel, ok?    ”    a hand, now missing from the steering wheel, creeps behind her shoulder, pulling the shambles of her body into the crook of his neck.   “    it’s gonna be ok, scout.    ”

Max sipped her morning coffee also glancing at the crowd when she noticed the resident asshole. What could be puzzling Bash today was quickly answered. “Maybe you just look terrible in orange because you’re pale as fuck, dude,” Max joked. “What are you even doing out here?”

he stretches his mouth into something that resembles a smile, knuckles toying under his chin like crackling flames.   “     hmm, are you placing the fault on me, mon cher?    nobody likes orange - just look at our president.     ”    he peaks lazily from the corner of his eyes.   “    oh, you know... contemplating the pointlessness of my existence while confronting the dull reality of fashion today.  procrastinating on work.  the usual.  what’s your excuse?    ”

she’s walking clumsily on the side of the road, heels clicking against the pavement as she let’s her feet carry her wherever they chose to go. she mistakenly crosses the painted line on the street every other step, too intoxicated to walk a straight line. she tries to look at her phone, but her hands are trembling too much to read anything on the screen. her memory of the night is hazy, but her tear stained cheeks make her believe that something must’ve gone wrong. that, and the dreadful feeling in her gut. the last thing she remembers is calling sebastian to come pick her up, managing to drop a pin of her location to him, knowing she would likely get impatient and wander from the place she made the call. she flips off every car that drives by and honks at her, belligerently yelling obscenities at them as they pass by. 

when sebastian’s car finally pulls up next to her, she tries to ignore him at first, a pit of regret growing in her stomach. why did she call him ? she keeps walking, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, but she’s too tired and drunk to keep it up. she stops dead in her tracks and stumbles toward the car, every drop of logic apparently leaving her mind as she crawls through the open window instead of opening the door. “finally! what took you sooooo long, babe? been out here for…lots of minutes.” her speech is so slurred that you can barely understand her, but she knows he’s dealt with her drunk ass enough to understand it. hopefully. she looks like she’s been through hell and back, straight out of a horror film, and if she saw herself in a mirror she’d probably scream. 

@delacrcix​

he’s been driving for about an hour now   - searching way ahead the location flashing red on his phone.  a pair of headlights travels through the road, cutting into the inky blackness of a hot summer night, an eeriness falls with raindrops, cast like an omen ;   something bad happened here tonight.   bright and bold, they flash past trees and sand and vacant streets, occasionally twisting shadows into something crooked and perilous;  and then,  as everything else,  the monsters vanish into his rearview mirror.   

finally, the familiar, shiny mercedes benz slows down at the sight of a skinny girl with muddy blonde hair  &   staggering bambi legs, moving down the road. although - moving might have been too generous of a word. his sharp brows furrow into a scowl at the center of his forehead, now embroiled with wrinkles, watching her squeeze into the window like an absolute lunatic   “  que se passe-t-il, huh, scout?   -  scout !    ”   he sharpens his tongue, turning on the ignition.   “   yeah, probably because i’ve been looking for nearly an hour...   hey,   ”    he calls out,  reaching out for her cheeks;  her green eyes are foggy   &  caught in a daze, and skin dirtied, as if she’d been wrestling in wet sand.   “    what happened?  were you fighting?    ”

&&. isn’t that [ IAN SOMERHALDER ] walking around the hamptons? oh no, nevermind it’s just [ SEBASTIAN DELACROIX ]. y'know, the [ 38 ] year old [ CIS MALE ] known to be quite [ MAGNETIC and PERSUASIVE ] but also [ SELF-ABSORBED and APATHETIC ]. currently, the police has them as [ NOT A PERSON OF INTEREST ] in the case of samantha wheeler, because they [ DIDN’T HAVE A CONNECTION TO HER ]. but they go on about their life as [ A FASHION DESIGNER ]. i wonder what secrets they’re keeping? [ lenny/23/gmt+3/she/her ]