bruised kisses

“Like the french.” She said, nodding her cup to him playfully before she took a sip. Ivy coughed a little when he bluntly brought up his sex life with women, spilling a little bit of coffee onto her shirt. She chuckled and reached for a napkin. “I’m sorry,” she grinned, covering her lips with her gracefully positioned hand, “go on?” She actively listened to him speaking, nodding as he did so. “same butterflies..” she repeated, smiling to herself a bit. the girl herself remembered feeling butterflies, but butterflies could easily be replaced by hornets when it came to Ivy. “All in all relationships are nice. They’re a plus. Some things just come first you know?” She added. “For example, your relationship with yourself. That has to before everything. You’re stuck with yourself forever.” Like she was one to talk, the girl had always been know for being overtly critical and hard on herself. She was definitely not living by her own advice, not one bit. “I’m still working on that one- I guess we all are though.” She said softly, her eyes fluttering up a bit to look at his. 

He didn’t mean to embarrass her to the point where she spilled coffee on herself; he sometimes forgets that not everyone is so open to discussing their sex life. He likes to think of them as periods in his life, things that have passed, that no longer hold the same meaning as they once did. But that’s not true for everyone. He finds it easier to talk about stuff like that compared to his family, to his ambitions, his art. He chuckles a little and hands her a few tissues to pad her shirt.

“Sorry.” He chews on his lower lip. Though Dixon has to admit he sort of likes catching her off guard. She’s pretty when she’s flustered.

“Working on yourself is never easy.” He agrees. He knows the time-old saying that you have to love yourself before you can really love someone else…though he’s not sure if that’s agreeable or not. But he won’t get into that with her.

“I don’t know, what the hell do I know—I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time.”

“Whatever makes you feel wild.” She laughed shrugging. “I’m great with secrets, but it’s always good to learn new things, even when they don’t really work out for your age bracket. gotta try right?” She clicked her tongue winking at him. “How’s the bar? Any exciting gossip you can share?”

Dixon runs a hand through his curls and offers a small shrug. “I’ll have to learn how to ride a bike in secret so New Quinton never finds out.” He grins, obviously teasing. “I’m afraid I gotta keep any secrets told to me at the bar. Bartender confidence rules. You should come by though, feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

Ivy looked down at her hand as he gave it a squeeze and she for some reason fought back her cheeks heating up a bit. She quickly brushed off that thought, it wasn’t something she was allowed to be thinking..- or feeling rather. Her darker eyes returned back to him. “I suppose so, it was a very frog in boiling water ordeal. You know when someone puts a frog in warm water and slowly increases the heat, the frog will just sit in there until it dies.” She nodded and paused for a moment. “I’ve never done that to a frog, dear god. That isn’t a personal discover.” The girl proclaimed, embarrassing herself a bit. “I guess I should put a hold on comparing my relationships to things, first shakespeare and now reptiles.” She shook her head. 

“That’s interesting. Do you think it’d be any different?” Ivy didn’t know much about bi-sexuality.  She was careful not to say anything that could rule off as offensive, offending Dixon was the last thing she wanted to do, but she was curious.  

Dixon scrunches his nose about the frog and lets her hand go. “That’s fucking awful.” But he laughs in good humor at her comparison. “No, I know, I figure you hadn’t but...thanks for at least assuring me you’re not some sort of serial frog killer.” He runs  a hand through his curls, chewing on his lower lip. He can’t imagine what it’d be like, having a relationship with someone so much older than you are at sixteen. 

Or even that, a relationship with a teacher. He admires her for admitting it and for seemingly working through that part of her life. 

He shrugs a little at her question, “Not...to confuse you. I’ve had sex with women before, I’ve just never dated one.” He grins. “I’m assuming it’s not that much different. I think... it’d be different,” He words it carefully. “Maybe. Though relationships at the end of the day aren’t that different. Same fights, same drama, same butterflies.” 

Ivy placed a hand over her heart and played a small offended face. “And you think I can’t do both?” She teased, cocking her eyebrow a bit. The brunette waved her hand. “No no- don’t apologize. It’s something very normal to talk about, my hesitation on it is a sign somethings not quite right.” She paused, somewhat thinking out loud. “I mean shouldn’t a person want to talk about their relationship?” She asked, putting the question out there to think on. Ivy listened to him mention his last relationship and nodded. “yes! Difficult! Very dramatic, every little thing. I don’t know if it’s just immaturity or what.” She huffed slightly before returning her attention to him. “I’ll second that with a drink.” She replied, finishing off her coffee. “Shh- you’re fine. Please don’t worry about prying, you’re not coming off like that at all.” She gave him a warmer smile. 

“My uh, my first relationship I was sixteen, it was a year long, and it was to a man named Dylan. He was my history teacher.” She let out, there was once a time in Ivy’s life where she’d never even utter the mans name but- she’d grown and it was much easier to talk about now a days. “He was a good 12 years older than me, twenty-nine I think, at the time.” She nodded. It seemed as if she was the only one not sharing so, despite it still being a somewhat uncomfortable topic, she revealed that part of her past. For some reason it didn’t feel frightening to tell it to him. “Yes so, my high-school sleepovers were a bit different than most.” She joked lightly. 

Dixon has never minded talking about his relationships; he’s only been in a few, but he’s pretty open about discussing them. They’ve never ended well, either, but he suspects it’s because he hasn’t been with the right people. And because he has trouble opening up; not about other people about this but about his past. It’s not like talking about his family, discussing his relationships doesn’t make him feel shamed or embarrassed. Things that transpired with his father always make him feel like he’s running away from something. 

This is different though. 

But he gets that other people aren’t so open and he’s not about to force Ivy to discuss it either. Relationships are so much harder than they needed to be and maybe that’s part of reason he hasn’t been in one in a while...he just doesn’t have time to feel like that. 

He doesn’t expect her to admit something about a relationship with her teacher, not that he’s judging her. Dixon really doesn’t have room to be judging anyone so he doesn’t if he can help it. 

“Your history teacher is a bold move.” Dixon says, turning his body to face her a little and squeezes her hand because that can’t be something easy to admit. He tries to think of something he can offer in exchange but nothing as opening comes to mind. 

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before even though I’m bisexual.” He admits. “Just a few boyfriends.” 

Ivy’s brow perked up a bit at his business idea. “That’s actually a fantastic idea Dixon.” She thought for a split-second. “Although no way companies would allow a start up business to utilize their logos and brands without getting a murderous sum of all profits. It’d rob us dry. However with the right marketing strategy we could still get the idea across but use something vague to represent each store, such as a simple staple or paintbrush. That’d still leave grounds for a case for big companies to sue but at least in that scenario we’d make some amount of coin before we became too big.” The brunette picked up her coffee cup and took a drink. “So I guess it’s not an ideal product plan.” She shrugged and let the small smile creep back onto her face, it’s like it wouldn’t leave. 

“Open ears, open arms policy. It’s very warm.” She noted, not immediately getting into the situation he was asking about. Ivy didn’t know if she wanted to unload everything onto him- or if she even wanted to open that can of worms to herself. “It’s somewhat of a taming of the shrew situation- definitely has some nods to that.” She decided to say, not thinking if he’d understand the Shakespeare reference, I guess it wouldn’t be awful if he didn’t anyways.. Ivy was a bit reluctant to share her relationship with Dixon. He was becoming someone she could be with and not be riddle with the thousand anxious thoughts that tended to be coursing through her head at any given time, she was afraid him knowing more about her situations would ruin that. Irrational or not, it was a fear. “It’s complicated, is all.” She finished with a tight smile. 

He laughs a little because selling candles would be quite the big step for him—bartender to candle seller, almost a little ironic. “Well we’d make our own candles. See the difference…it’s actually not that hard. You just need wax and essential oils.” He shrugs. “But I’m not pulling you into a business venture, someone needs to report the news.” He teases. 

Dixon takes his cup into the kitchen and rinses it out in the sink, running a hand through his curls as Ivy dances around the what’s going on with her boyfriend. Clearly, none of his business with the Shakespeare comment. He supposes he should have figured; he’s probably not the best person to ask for relationship advice anyways.

“Yeah, sorry I asked.” He smiles a little over his shoulder. “I haven’t been in a relationship in a while, but my last boyfriend made everything fucking difficult. So, I get it, I guess is what I’m trying to say.”

He sits down on the couch next to her again after drying his hands with a dish-towel. He chuckles a moment as he thinks before looking over at her.

“Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I haven’t had any great relationships. They’re a lot of work and usually people want different things aren’t honest about it. Which…that’s not what I mean about yours.” Shut up, Dixon. “I hope you figure it out. What ever is going on.”

“I swear if we got a hurricane coming at us this early in the season I’m gonna punch something. On top of that, what’s with these weird hurricane names? Why can’t we name them nice and normal names like Bart and Cynthia?”

“Wait, there’s a hurricane coming for New Quinton?”

“I barely know how to ride, my dad made sure I learned, but my mom never let me ride, I didn’t mind much, but now I’m part of the whole global warming problem.”  She shrugged. “You can always learn. I can’t teach you, because I barely know myself, but I’m sure we could find someone.” 

“Motorcycles are actually terrible, ridiculously dangerous but...sometimes there’s no beating that feeling of wind on your face.” He smiles a little. “God, no, I’m not letting anyone know I can’t ride a bike. That’s like a requirement of childhood--I hope my secret is safe with you.” 

“Me?” Ivy replies, truthfully a bit shocked. She didn’t really find herself to be very interesting. Especially not when there were people like Annabel or Natalie living in this town with her. “Thank you.” She chuckled a bit, placing a hand over her heart playfully. “Yes, I’ve gotten anal before. More times then I can count.” She rolled her eyes softly. “I’d say more on the perfectionist side of things.” Her eyes perked up a bit when he asked his question. “I do! It’s honestly a way for me to relax. It might not seem like it throughout the process but it’s pretty euphoric when you’re done.” She explained. “They definitely know me at Staples. It one of the best place- smell wise. I wish they made a candle of it’s scent honestly.” And there she was rambling again, as she got more comfortable it became a bit harder to bite her tongue and not go on and on about things nobody wants to hear about. She let herself chuckle a bit and took a sip off the coffee. “I could see you doing that.” She laughed gently, “You have somewhat of a lion-esque to you.” The girl complimented. 

“No, I’m sure New York is doing fine.” She some-what joked, exhaling deeply, that was her paradise after all. “Uhm,” She hesitated, “Not really I suppose. I mean I’m sure that and my words are telling you two different things but uh, if I’m honest I don’t quite know the answer myself.” She shrugged gently. 

He can't help but feel a little amused when she goes into a tangent about Staples; which sure, is a pretty great place if you like categorizing things. He used to be a little organized with his paints and stuff but with his small living place he finds it hard to give a shit. He's always running around anyways; and a little bit of a messy living actually improves his creativity for his paintings.

"I feel like that everytime I go into a craft store, so you're not alone. I'm not sure why they haven't monopolized on those candle scents yet." He grins. "Maybe we can invent them, start our own line and sell them here in New Quinton on the black market. Make a fortune."

Maybe this is what he likes best about her. That he’s able to sound a little ridiculous; that they can talk about stuff like this and it’s...fun. 

He doesn’t know what she means by New York but he assumes it’s her boyfriend. He chews on his lower lip and turns to look at her, leaning against the cushion of the couch. 

Ivy couldn’t help but smile a bit when he told her he enjoyed her company. It was nice- refreshing if you will. Daniel and her were in some sort of strange rut of arguments and it was almost as if she forgot someone could actually enjoy spending time with her. “Who would’ve thought you’d take somewhat of a liking to some strange girl in your bar at three PM huh?” She joked, toying around. “Well that’s good, I really do try my best not to be.” She noted, nodding softly. “Overbearing, nit-picky, or - I don’t know I guess anal is what I usually get.” The brunette gave him a half-smile. As of lately, ever since she moved into the new apartment, that’s how she had been feeling. “But hey, all that is how I earned my job and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” She affirmed, more hoping she’d believe herself rather than him believe what she was saying. The brunette took a deep breath and took a sip of her coffee. And here comes the stress. Seemed to spark up whenever she thought about the state of her relationship as of right now,

Laughter. Her bit of silent was broken by a.. chuckle? That was surely new. The man had some sort of charm that seemed to banish Ivy’s stress when she was around him. That was never something she gotten from someone before - a sense that her world could stop for an afternoon and it wouldn’t fall apart at the seams. “Oh shut up.” She hushed, with a closed lip grin on her features. “They’re kind of still my favorite animal.” She confessed, enjoying the light-hearted conversation more than she’d let on. “But don’t tell anyone I’d hate to be the horse girl on top of the nosy reporter.” She joked, smiling a dash brighter than before. She was having fun. “Don’t worry I won’t make you pinky promise this time. Two pinky promises in one day.. that’s a bit intense.” The sound of her cell ringtone rang through the air, buzzing on the table. Daniel’s face popped up on her phone, his caller I.D photo of the pair in each others arms prominent on the screen. How’s that for a slap back to reality, the girl thought. “Sorry.” She scrambled, picking up her phone and denying the call before sliding it into her purse. Ivy didn’t understand why she felt the want to hide the fact she was with Daniel from the boy. Obviously she told him of her relationship but other than that she never really wanted to discuss it with Dixon at all, in fact she didn’t even really want him seeing it- hence the phone being so quickly discarded. Ivy could feel a sense of guilt tugging at her stomach, she wasn’t doing anything wrong though.. yet if Daniel knew where she was he’d go off the rails. “Anyways.” The brunette hummed, returning her attention to Dixon. 

Dixon chuckles and takes a sip of his coffee before he rests it on his coffee table. He stretches a little and settles into the corner of the couch, running a hand through his hair.

"Honestly, I've met a lot of people and that bar and you're by far the most interesting." He bites his tongue on something he might regret like 'and the most pretty'. She's got a boyfriend and he doesn't need that type of drama in his life right now.

If it was a bad day, or week, and if he was feeling particulary reckless he might say 'fuck it' and say how he felt but. He's not about to ruin one of the decent friendships he has in New Quinton--no matter how destructive he is when it comes to his own happiness.

"People call you anal?" He raises an eyebrow. "Do you like to reorganize shit or categorize by color?" He's not making fun, he knows some people actually have OCD...he's just trying to get a good read on her.

He likes the mutual smile on her face right now, the soft laugh that leaves her lips. It’s nice being able to relax with someone and not expect that they want something from you. 

“Hey man, your secret is safe with me.” He teases. “Though if someone pays me, I don’t know...” He laughs a little. “Might have to tell them your desire to be a horse but, honestly, I wanted to be a lion when I was younger and chased my own dog making roaring noises so I’m not sure why being a horse is so bad.” 

He glances down at her phone ringing and clocks her movements. He expects her to pick up and talk to her boyfriend but...she doesn’t. Which tells Dixon a lot: either she doesn’t want to talk because they’re not on okay terms or she doesn’t want her boyfriend to know she’s with someone else. 

Interesting. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s fucking horrible.” Annabel mumbled with a blunt between her lips as she lit it. After she took a hit, she passed it to Dixon and hopped up off the counter to open the fridge. “We’ve got mango, highly recommended.. uh… watermelon, strawberries, blueberries… Fuck, you want me to just make some smoothies? Everything’s in here.” 

Dixon chuckles a little and runs a hand over his face. “Actually? A smoothie sounds bomb as fuck. Might be the cure all I need and just never knew it?” He grins. “You mind?”

“I know, I’ll be okay, I’m more of a hazard to others when I’m on a bike than myself.” She shook her head. “I think I’m going to have to walk it home, cannot risk a break going out later.” 

Dixon smiles, “Probably the smarter choice.” He bites his lip. “And you’re going to laugh but I have no idea how to ride a bike. Like, zero. Ironically I’ve ridden motorcycles before but not a bike.” 

She followed him for a bit, hoping she didn’t seem like a mom desperate for conversation with someone who wasn’t three-feet-tall. “Oh, hangover? You should try…This,” Charlie searched through her cart before pulling out a bottle of kombucha and presenting it to Dixon. “I swear, this stuff is a cure all. Blackberry-ginger-green-tea,” she read off of the label. “It sounds like a bunch of health food trigger words, but it’s really great.” She offered it to him, “You can have this bottle if you’d like. There’s a sale on aisle…Uh, four I think? I grabbed a bunch, I learned after my twenty-first that there’s nothing fermented tea can’t fix.”

Dixon blinks at the kombucha because...this doesn’t even sound real. Actually, it sounds like some sort of noise that slips between people’s mouth when they bump into something or sneeze but. She’s a mom, so he has that spidey sense to trust her judgment. 

“Okay,” He laughs a little. “Why not, can’t hurt. Thanks. Not to sound weird but do you come to this grocery store often? I feel like I’ve never seen you here before and with a small town I eventually see every face.” At the bar, usually, but her kids would be a reason why he might not of. 

And now she’s hit a weird spot for him, surly. Ivy felt like an asshole for prying. But for some reason there wasn’t much of an awkwardness in the air at all, or at least she didn’t feel it. “National Geographic. That’s impressive. A very talented woman.” She noted, still holding a somewhat soft expression but not one of sorry. She grazed over the past tense he was using, there was no need to focus on his loss but rather who she was-  maybe it could shed some positive on where the conversation had turned. “I guess talent runs in the family. Two artists.” She smiled warmly, but not over the top. Ivy bit her tongue as she was about to ask if his father was an artist as well, but she didn’t want to trespass into more family territory. It felt somewhat guarded. The brunette got up, holding her coffee cup, she out stretched her hand for Dixon’s glass as well before heading back into the kitchen where she had watched him pour the coffee originally. She poured another cup for them both. She almost worried doing so would make her appear a bit rude, walking around his home like she wasn’t a stranger to it. The girl carefully walked back to the couch, two now full cups grasped in the sleeves of her sweater, and handed one gracefully to Dixon. “I appreciate the mutual caffeine addiction.” She joked quietly before taking a long sip. “I agree, badgering he galleries is something you should most definitely continue doing.” She wanted to tell him she’d go with him, make calls, use her connections - but she had already over stepped with the news story charade. When Ivy got passionate about something, especially something her friends were doing, she would go off like a circuit and put her all into whatever she was contributing - usually going a bit over the top if she was being honest, but the girl couldn’t help it. She loved to see the people she cared for succeed.      

Ivy took a breath in. “Thank you for sharing your art with me.” She said quietly but genuinely. The girl got the feeling he didn’t do that often which led her to be a little confused why she was so lucky as to. “Up until I was about- uhm, twelve I wanted to be a horse.” She stated plainly. “Then my sister told me I’d be made into glue if I did. And I’ve been pretending I’m allergic to Elmer’s ever since. It still terrifies me. I haven’t touched a glue stick in years.” She told him with a flat tone. He shared and so would she. Brown eyes staring straight at him she let her sentence hang for a little before her expressions crackled into a small chuckle. “So that’s me.” 

Dixon nods and listens to Ivy, though he has to admit it’s a little bit like hearing her underwater. He feels like he’s in some sort of ocean when he talks about his parents. That hurt and betrayal buried somewhere deep. His mom is talented...his mom was talented. And his father was a great teacher until...

“She was.” He agrees, soft smile tugging at the ends of his mouth. He finishes his coffee and puts the mug down on the table, clearing his throat. 

He wants to say that he sometimes forgets what she sounds like, what she smells like, the way she used to cup his cheeks and kiss his nose. He doesn’t though; instead he watches her get up from the couch with their mugs and fill them with coffee.

“Have you been here before and I just didn’t know?” He teases but it’s not unwelcome; he’s always appreciated a girl who could take control, who could take care of themselves and Ivy seems to do just that. “Thank you.” He says as he takes the coffee from her and takes another sip. “Honestly, I tried switching to decaf because I drink like a whole pot a day but then I realized I loved myself.” 

He looks over at her and wants to tell her that this wasn’t on purpose but he knows better than that. It is. He wouldn’t have brought her here if he’d minded. So he knows that’s a goddamn lie. He lets out a slow breath between his lips. 

“I don’t usually but I like spending time with you. And regardless of you being a reporter I don’t find you particularly nosy.” Dixon doesn’t expect the horse story and he doesn’t mean to laugh but he does sort. 

“My enthusiasm isn’t easily earned, you’ll come to learn that.” She replied, nodding her head towards him a bit. She scrunched her nose up when he tapped it, reaching back for her coffee cup and taking another sip of it. Ivy gave up the idea of the news story, or at least decided to let it rest. If Dixon was hiding his art in his home like so- she should’ve considered he wouldn’t want it broadcasted to the town. “I’m sorry, I can get a bit over excited about things which in turn sometimes makes me a little .. pushy.” She chuckled just a bit and looked around for something she could use as a coaster. When she couldn’t find anything she reached into her purse and pulled out a napkin, folding it over and few times until it was a perfect square. She placed it on the table and then set her cup on it. It didn’t seem like coasters were a necessity here, but she was a sucker for them.

Originally posted by shadowhunthers

His mother? Ivys eyebrows furrowed a bit when he finished his sentence. Maybe the news story wasn’t a lost cause of an idea after all. But as much as she wanted to utalize what he had said as leverage to create a news story, she wasn’t going to. Not with him. Very calmly the girl replied. “I’m sure it would. Parents love to see their children on television. Good or bad coverage, trust me I’ve seen both.” She smiled softly. “Are you close with your mother?”

Dixon hums a little under his breath and takes another sip of his coffee. His cup is almost empty and he wants to get another cup but Ivy is leaning pretty close to him; he’d probably end up jostling her and her own cup if he got up. So he settles for now and sets his cup against his thigh, glancing around at his art. 

“It’s fine,” He assures her, looking down at her. “I understand that’s part of the job when it comes to journalism.” He winks. “I can appreciate the excitement, it’s just...the article isn’t for me. That’s a hint that I should probably keep bothering galleries until they see my art though, otherwise the only show is in here.”

He clears his throat when she mentions his mother and God, what a mistake. First his art, now this. He wasn’t sure what it was about her--he just felt like talking in a way he’d never had with someone else before. He wanted to make a joke about how his word vomit was probably the magic of her being a great reporter but, it got lost under his tongue. 

He didn’t talk about his parents and yet, he couldn’t say no to her now. Not when it was his own fault that he brought it up. Dixon treads carefully, however, still keeping some cards close to his chest. 

“I was,” He looks over at her. “She used to take photos for National Geographic. Nature, mostly.” 

Charlie was so relieved that this guy wasn’t angry with her. Too many times something would happen in public, like a toddler meltdown or a case of bad manners, and someone would be incredibly rude to her about it. People figured since she was so young, she must be irresponsible. They always took the opportunity to give her unwarranted parenting advice or belittle her about it. 

“Immy, tell this nice man you’re sorry,” She prompted her daughter, who at this point looked quite embarrassed.  The small girl looked up at him through her long eyelashes, giving him her own blue eyed version of the puppy dog face. “I’m sorry,” she said sweetly before she ran to hide behind her mother’s legs.

“I’m Charlie, by the way. Charlie Daye. And little miss polite over here is Immy,” She ran her hand through her daughter’s curls. “And this little guy is Alex, he’s a gold star napper, and we’re very thankful for it,” she laughed a little, moving so the understanding stranger could see her son’s face again. “Shopping trips are always an adventure when daddy is at work.”

Dixon offers a small smile to the girl saying her apologies to him before hiding behind the woman’s legs. It wasn’t that big of a deal and takes another box of cereal off the shelf to put into his cart. Those puppy dog eyes are something he recognizes and appreciates; those are going to go a long way in getting things that she wants for years to come. 

“It’s alright,” he tells her and offers his hand for Charlie to shake. “I’m Dixon, it’s nice to meet you. And your grocery helpers.” He chuckles a little. 

He wanders down the aisle with her and picks out a few other things he might need and tries to do math in his head. He should have enough for everything.