𝔾𝕆𝕃𝔻𝔼ℕ / 𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 !

BIO + STATS • CONNECTIONS • WANTED CONNECTIONS • PINTEREST • MUSINGS 

        she only looks over for a moment, she thinks if she looks too long she’ll lose her focus on the game, too content with being around her at the moment but intent on winning the prize. she’s not surprised at the attempt to connect it to the movies, ana is well aware by now how much her work influences her, she thinks you can’t really have one without the other, but she nods and shoots her a wink, and turns back to focus on the game. “shame, i guess the fate of your newfound carnival experience rests on the expertise of the flick of my wrist,” she retorts, another toss. she’s lulled into a focus, wincing every time the plastic clinks off the bottles until she’s on her last ring. she stops, and looks at it, then at mia, and grins, then blows it a kiss. “for good luck,” she says, and then tosses it one last time, as it lands right on the bottle. 

          “and what if i said you were not? what would you do?” she teases, with a grin on her face. “don’t worry your little head, i have this,” she says, simply, taking the rest of her rings and standing besides mia. popcorn set on the counter, safely, they’re side by side, ana splitting the rings up between them, as they continue their unsuccessful attempts for the coveted blue orangutan. “so this is the first time you are at one, uninterrupted and unscripted,” she replies, a sly glance over to the other. she is not trying to make mia examine her own life, especially considering the amount she’s gone through in the past three months alone, but she is curious. she likes learning about her, she doesn’t want to stop learning about her. “it is harder than it looks,” she says, with a giggle. “me? when i was little. when i still lived in france. it was not like we got many excursions at camp,” she replies, simply, and memories of it only remain a blur of neon lights. “but i like them. i like the atmosphere. i like forgetting for a little and just having fun, you know?” an escape, this is what they felt like. a temporary reprieve of neon lights and fried foods.

     it’s not that they hate skye, it’s just-- it’s weird, you know? it’s been years and it’s still weird, and anaïs, who prides themselves on helping people with interpersonal relationships, finds herself really sucking at maintaining her own. “oh-- it is alright,” she says, near immediately, when she realizes who it is. “no worries. it is pretty busy around here, yes? it is easy to get ahead of yourself.” she follows their gaze to the rollercoaster. “have you been on it yet?”

         anaïs laughs, clear and genuine, and scoffs at her statement, before reaching over and grabbing a handful of popcorn, popping a few kernels in her mouth. “cute, yeah, okay,” she says with a playful roll of her eyes. “i am my own person, but i am certain that we should all live a little. try new things. have you been to a lot of carnivals in your life, mia?” she can’t quite imagine someone who has been working since they were a child had much of the normal childhood experiences. in fact, she knows on some level that mia has not. she passes her a ring, and takes the popcorn from her, gently nudging to switch places. “come on, throw it, it is cute enough, right?” 

          it’s not like she’s angry. it is an emotion that anaïs really feels, because usually, there is some physical consequences regarding her pyrokinesis, but anaïs is confused. and upset. and so many other things at once. but in the moment, she doesn’t try to push the subject or talk it out (she doesn’t think she’s in the state to do so, currently) so she simply just is. she missed him, of course she did, but the sudden reappearance has put much into perspective. brows shoot up as jax begins to regale funnel cake fun facts, and if they were a little more sober, she thinks it could be weird, but it only manages to bring a crooked grin to their face. “i have never had one,” she admits, tucking her hair behind her ear and tilting her face up to him. “they are not a thing in france. i suppose the closest thing we have to that are beignets, which i have had plenty of, but i always see them in movies and wanted to try them, you know?” she pauses. “did you... study for the carnival?” 

     it’s the whatever night of the carnival, and anaïs isn’t completely here. physically, maybe, but it’s been about five hours since she’s started partying and there’s only been a lull right now. and the only reason for that is because she’s drunk and hungry. she doesn’t see him at first, but he appears in her line of vision, illuminated by the bright neons of these cheesy food trucks. she thinks perhaps under different circumstances, she’d still be avoiding him. but she doesn’t. no. “hi,” she says, simply, though, it’s very clear to see she’s attempting to fake sobriety. “i should be still upset with you.” it’s not a pointed statement, just an observation, perhaps a bit slurred. “but-- tonight, i think i can get over it for a bit. only... if you get me a funnel cake. do we have a deal?”

      they’re focused on the task at hand, which is fling rings onto glass bottles in order to win on of the very cheap stuffed toys hanging from the booth. anaïs grins at mia. “ah, c’est la vie, are we here to talk about the technicalities, mia?” she asks, playfully, eyes turning towards the bottles as they receive their plastic rings. eyes narrow, tongue stuck out just slightly as they begin to fling the rings out. the whisper nearly throws her off, or perhaps the closeness, but she keeps at it, pausing only once to look at mia. “well, i guess now we are gunning for the blue orangutan, no? my aim is good. trust me.”

          “iker, please, i feel like your middle name is selective,” they retort, with a teasing grin shot in his direction. the rapport they’ve since built in the absence (and subsequent return) of a certain someone something they have found themselves almost looking forward to. they sip at their milkshake, gesturing with it as he tries to make a case for himself. “uh-uh, uh, i am not crushing your dreams, iker, i just don’t want me to be apart of that goal. i am sure you will find a nice person with many children one day and fulfill your strangely specific goal, and i support it. just do not bring me in it.” she nods along to the question, fiddling with the straw in her cup as she shrugs and looks over at him. “i feel like that question is beyond my knowledge,” she tells him. “perhaps for your mom when you see her next.” but she thinks they’re both victims of that idea, anaïs knowing very well they were the type to get caught up in the idea of being in love. “do i believe that? no,” she says, with an immediate shake of her head. “i do not believe there is just one person for everyone. but i cannot speak to people’s personal preferences.” though, she has tried many times with rené, it is the few times their conversations devolved into ‘arguments’ (or as close to an argument as they get). “he’s moved on, definitely, he just simply does not want to anymore. and who am i to tell him what to do?”

         the joke is lost, but it’s no matter to anaïs either way. she is has simply managed to make her smile in the slightest and that is enough for her. at the mention of the nickname, anaïs looks up from her work, head tilting towards mia to figure out just exactly what is coming next, but she has a feeling she already knows. it is not like she can’t say she doesn’t look forward to mia’s sleepovers, but there’s a sense of comfort there that was quickly established. “it does not need to be in exchange, it could simply be with,” she reminds her, with a small smile, though she doesn’t question mia’s methods (always). “but are you offering to cook for a child of hestia? i do love a homecooked meal. but if you are bluffing, we could perhaps simply get lorenzo’s. i could go for some pasta.” 

           “how very mary poppins of you,” they tease, a grin on their face slowly spreads. with a wave of a hand, they nod at daphne. “i mean, personally, my phone is always dying, so i had to learn really quickly that i need like six of these on hand or else i would be practically unreachable,” they joke, and glance over at daphne. “but i can part with one for a good cause. a fellow friend in need.” nose scrunches as they know night shifts kind of suck. “ugh, i am sorry, at least it will be sort of quiet, yeah? tuesday nights are never super busy, so maybe you can catch up on some homework or something.” 

              “ah, then a perfect opportunity to draw a penis, no?” she announces, and trades the cigarette for the sharpie. it is a joke, because anaïs, as much as she is open, is very rarely vulgar in the way many young adults oft are. she grins over at mia and uncaps the marker with her teeth, hunching her arm to find the one, of few, spots left open on it. it starts with a circle, three lines dash at the top, the two dots signaling the eyes and then finally the ears. when she pulls away from the masterpiece, she flourishes her hand and caps the marker. “et voilà, le minou, instead,” she teases, glancing up at her, an attempt to relieve the stress that has been following mia, she’s sure, for a while now. “what do you think? personally, i think you should save the cast to hang in a museum once they cut it off.” 

         no judgement on their end-- gods know they’ve skipped often for the silliest of reasons. sometimes class just didn’t seem like a good use of time. but she stares at the sketch in her hands, and studies it, wishing, only slightly, she had the ability to draw beyond the same three things she always does. though, she supposes her drawings align more with doodles than actual art. “that makes sense,” she says, with a shrug. “are you going to keep at it? because i was going to go get something from tea-o-logy before my next class, do you want to come?”

       seeing luca is always a delight-- his quiet nature something that very clearly juxtaposes with anaïs’ general extroverted demeanor. for as long as she’s known him, he’s been nothing but pleasant and soft spoken, which is something, she thinks, that she perhaps needs around at times, appreciative of the times they can simply sit in silence. she’s shelving books when he comes in, nearly startling when he greets her, as usual stuck in her own little world. but she sees him and grins. “ah, luca, bonjour,” she greets, brightly. “ça va?” she turns to face him, listening as he explains his need, and nods, once, and gestures him to follow her. she books it to the desk with the computer containing their files and orders and logs on. “well, if it is a book you are looking for, i think you may be in the right place. what is the name? i will check to see if we got it yet.”