Here Lies The Impersonator

It works, for the most part, but the shower really does its job when Teagan shifts the temperature to cold. She jumps slightly at the change and it takes a few deep breaths to settle the sobriety in as much as she can before shutting everything off and heading out.

When she dries herself, she realizes there's a bit of a dilemma. Sure, she can just wear her underwear again, but the rest of her outfit isn't fit to relax or sleep in, and she's positive Arden won't want her walking practically naked around her apartment.

Teagan sighs and wraps the towel around her body, relenting. "Hey, Arden?" She peers out cautiously, not veering far from the entrance of the bathroom. "Do you have any clothes I can borrow? Just some trousers and a jumper. Or a t-shirt is fine, too."

As much as she wishes there were, there's no other explanation for the scars. They're too neat, too clean, too numerous to be anything other than deliberate. And they really don't know what to do with that. Arden has had their fair moments of feeling empty and hopeless, but they'd never hurt themself, and they'd never directly dealt with anyone who had. Jo had— their brother— and Matt had…

They reach for their glass, trying to push down against the new wave of panic rising in their chest. It shakes as they bring it to their lips and take another long sip. Teagan isn't Matt, they try to reassure themself. She's going through it, yes, but she's dedicated to taking care of her family. She just needs more support it seems, and, well, Arden is here and willing. Teagan is sweet and fun, and the more she gets to know the blonde, the more she likes her. And while their experiences definitely aren't equivalent, they are both sharing in the same loss.

…

Efa had always been the most emotionally intelligent of their trio. And while they'd all certainly grown over the past decade, she would, undoubtedly, be much more capable of handling a situation like this. Arden wishes she were here, wishes—

Buzz buzz!

They jump, spilling whiskey on their shirt as the buzzer startles them out of their thoughts. “Shit,” they murmur, hopping out of their seat. Stopping to grab a paper towel, they leave their glass by the sink, and dabbing at their shirt, go to let the delivery person in.

They've only just set the bag on the counter when Teagan calls out, startling them once more.

Since her teenage years, after Efa saved Teagan from herself, she made it a point to always utilize dim lighting when it came to undressing. She has scars. The kind you made in silence, where blood and tears mixed together when you were at your lowest.

In her drunken fog though, Teagan doesn't care to hide. She undresses as she stumbles over to an open area, drunkenly hoping that she can find the bathroom on her own. First her shirt, then her trousers, and she leaves the rest on out of respect while she goes on her search.

"Oh and can I have a sprite?" Teagan opens one door, and it appears to be a bedroom. Then, another, and it's a closet. Finally, she turns around to open one more and it's the bathroom. "Aha!" Teagan exclaims proudly and makes her way inside, undressing fully once the door is closed. The rest is a blur once turns over the water and steps inside.

When they look up, they freeze, finding Teagan has already stripped down to her underwear in the few minutes they glanced away. Jesus Christ, she's trying to kill me.

It takes a second for their brain to catch up to their eyes, and then another to manage to tear their gaze away. If there's a moment in between where they give her a glance over, well, that's between Arden and the pit of guilt in their stomach isn't it? But there is something unusual that catches their eye to the extent that they can't help their curiosity and take a another look.

There on Teagan's right thigh, in stark contrast with her pale skin, is a small red line, straight and neat, the surrounding skin the inflamed red of a newly healing injury. And even further around it are others, other cuts in various state of healing. Straight lines scattered across both thighs— some faded reds and pale pinks, but most of all white scar tissue, again and again, over and over.

Shit.

Chest aching, heart sinking to the depths of her stomach, Arden turns her eyes to her phone screen once more as her thoughts run rampant. Teagan used to and has recently been hurting herself.

Fuck. Fuck. They don't know what to do with that information, and Teagan is saying something, fuck. "Sprite, noted." They mindlessly jot that down in their notes, voice sounding distant to their own ears, but mostly even. It takes the sound of a door opening and closing to jar them out of staring through their phone. "Oh, the bathroom's— yeah, you got it."

Mind lagging while they process, Teagan has already closed the bathroom door behind her by the time Arden thinks to say, "I'll, uh, grab you a towel."

Get towel. Order food. Freak out while picking up.

She shakes her head as if that will help settle the mess in her mind before pulling her hair back up into a messy bun and heading into her room to pull an extra towel out from the closet. After a quick knock, Arden leaves the fresh towel on the rack, shoving her own aside. While there, she grabs an armful of laundry to toss into the washing machine before switching back to the contact info for Granny's and placing their order. She neatens the apartment in a fugue state, body moving on autopilot as she tosses more clothes into the washing machine, adds several cups and plates to the sink, and puts some books back onto their shelves. The entire time, all she can picture is the mess of scars and the look on Teagan's face as she had broken down earlier.

Once she's finished, she pours herself a glass of whiskey, neat, and takes a good, long swig before she all but falls onto her couch for a few moments of reprieve before the food arrives.

"I'll pay you back somehow. Free bouquet?" Teagan bounces her brows, smiling drunkenly with just a hint of a flirt. She'd thought about giving Arden an impromptu bouquet after their fun at the festival, but every time she thought she'd built up enough nerves to do it, there was no follow through.

She just daydreamed about it instead, knowing she was too complicated to tangle anyone else in her life. It wouldn't be fair. To Teagan, to Arden, to Teagan's siblings...to anyone.

Looking ahead, the building Arden is pointing at grows closer, and it feels like she barely takes a blink when they reach the landing. "This you?" She whistled in amazement, "Can't imagine having my own space like that. I mean--" Teagan shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I have my own room, but the house is never quiet."

She takes a breath and shrugs, stumbling only slightly when she walks again. They're in Arden's apartment in another blink, and it takes a few beats for Teagan to really notice. When she does, she smiles. It's nice to see a little bit of Arden in the space. Books and journals around the plant-filled living room. There's splashes of forest green around the neutral tones, and it feels a lot like nature has had a good influence on the space. It's a whole life Teagan doesn't know about yet, but she isn't sure she has the right to.

“You don't need to pay me back,” she shrugs. “Though, I won't turn down a bouquet. Could always use some more actual greenery around the apartment.” They'd been managing to keep a succulent alive with some of Teagan's pointers, but, aside from occasional flowers, the plant life in their apartment was fake. Too many plants had been murdered in their care over the years.

“This is me, yeah,” they nod. “It's actually the first time I've really had my own place,” they admit. “I was living with Jo in Boston, so I had my own room and bathroom, but otherwise we shared. It helped with the cost of living in the city. They were quiet, though.” They'd go nuts, never getting a moment of silence.

“You can always stop by,” the offer is blurted out before they can really think it through. It's not that they regret the words or don't mean them, it just feels like a bit much, extending an invitation to their home like that. “If you need a break from the noise,” they add lamely, biting down on their lip as if that will quell their anxiety. “The store's usually pretty quiet, too.” That's a little less intense, right?

Thankfully, they arrive home, and Arden lets go of Teagan's hand in order to unlock the door. She takes hold again to help her up the singular flight of stairs and over to her door. There's a feeling of relief stepping into her space after a long day. She flicks on the lights and drops her keys on the cabinet near the door.

“Welcome to my place,” she says with an awkward little flourish.

Now that Teagan is actually there in her home, her anxiety starts to make a fuss. It's not like she has a ton of guests over generally, and she definitely hadn't been expecting anyone to come over tonight, so the apartment is a little messier than she'd like. There were several empty cups as well as a plate or two sitting around, the hamper was getting rather full, honestly, and she knew there were some articles of clothing strewn around, especially in her room— thankfully dark at the moment.

“Um, do you want to shower now?” she asks, running through all the things she needs to clean up in a hurry as she kicks off her shoes. “I'll put in our order, just lemme know how you want your burger, and if you want anything else.”

Um," Teagan clicks her tongue, blinking several times before she can focus back on the game in front of them. "Yes, the game." She chuckles breathily, looking at the machine as Arden takes her stance.

It gives Teagan the opportunity to let her gaze wander a little more, taking stock of the physique all that running has given Arden. She's impressed, again staring too long when they start talking again.

"Hm? Oh--Yeah. I bet." Teagan nods and grabs her cup to take a long sip. "I tend to play every year. Can't help it." Another ball lands in the 10 slot, and Teagan takes a little initiative. "Here." Slipping behind Arden, Teagan places her hand behind theirs and her had in their shoulder.

"You want to flick the ball on the release, and aim for the corner of the ramp. Like...so." She guides Arden's arm forward, doing exactly that. Just as expected, the ball lands in the 10,000 point slot, and the bells and alarms ring. "Ah, see?" Teagan claps happily and pats Arden's shoulder with pride. "Good girl."

The mead settles warm and heavy in their stomach as Teagan eyes them, that playful grin still on her face. So, they take the moment to eye her back, noting a small birthmark on her cheek. But then Teagan blinks, and they turn their attention to the skee-ball machine.

She freezes as Teagan comes up behind her, one hand settling on her shoulder as the other cups her own, still holding the ball. Her nerves are alight at the points of contact, as the woman directs her shot with a few words. It feels ridiculous and a little cheesy— even if it does make her stomach flutter— and Arden's ready to make some comment about how she's not that bad in an attempt to dispel some of the anxious energy buzzing through her body. But then Teagan says good girl, and the words disappear as her brain white screens for a moment.

They can feel the heat radiating off of their face, as they stand there, desperately trying to think of something to say as they try to will themself into acting normally. After a beat, they manage a “Haha, thanks,” before reaching for their small cup of mead and finishing it a little too quickly.

They're living in that moment. For themself or for Teagan, or for both of them, she doesn't know, but she wants to live in it too. She continues to watch and holds Arden's hand tightly as she leads them down the sidewalk.

Teagan's gait is messy and uncoordinated, but it somehow doesn't impede their walk to Arden's apartment. She follows willingly. Like it's the raft she's been waiting for for the entirety of the year.

And then Arden solidifies their friendship, giving Teagan another moment of reprieve by sealing her wallet in her pocket. She was always the sibling with the most problems growing up, so she made all the current ones as small as she could. No matter the issue, Teagan made a point to take it on herself so that no one else has to. So that no one has to worry about her again.

It's only natural that she feels lucky that Arden didn't let her do the same with them. They brought everything to the forefront, giving Teagan the chance to breathe. When she does, she relaxes, one foot in front of the other.

"I wouldn't call you an asshole when I offered to pay first." Her voice still has a drunken lilt to it, but it's more coherent than before. "How long until we're to your place? Feel like I might fall over. Oh!" She blinks, still following Arden. "Can I have a shower at your place?"

The moniker of sunshine had come naturally to them during their time together at the festival. While the blonde hair certainly contributed, there's also just an undeniable brightness to Teagan. Joy and kindness seem to radiate off of her. Although, likewise, so do the grief and sorrow.

They continue walking, Teagan holding on tightly as she drunkenly trudges alongside her, looking a little lost in her thoughts before she turns to face Arden. “Still,” she shrugs, “I've got dinner. Maybe you get breakfast or something.”

She regrets the words as soon as they reach her ears. “Ugh,” she cringes, “that sounded like a horrible pickup line. Forget I said that.”

"If you get me fries right now, I'll marry you on the spot," Teagan says with a pleased sigh, twisting the lid back onto Arden's bottle. She doesn't really know what she's saying, but when she realizes what came out of her mouth, she's mortified. "Kidding," Teagan breathes, "Obviously."

Not only did Teagan not care for marriage, she's positive it isn't for her in the first place. And now with Efa, Jac, and Catrin gone, she feels justified. As Teagan said to Quentin anyway: who would want to date someone with kids? On top of everything else, there isn't enough room to love or be loved by anyone else but the family Teagan has left.

Though, that doesn't stop her from daydreaming.

Clearing her throat, she hands over the bottle back to Arden and shuffles her way down the sidewalk to get a better position to feel the light breeze. "Lead the way, I guess." Teagan says warmly, returning to Arden. She laces her fingers with theirs for better support, a smile resting easy on her face as they begin their walk.

Then, her brows furrow. "Hey, wait. I said I was going to pay."

Teagan chugs greedily, spilling water down her chin in her urgency. They're not sure how much she had to drink tonight, nor when she’d started, but she'd been 'falling-on-her-ass, having-a-menty-b' drunk by the time most people were just beginning their night. She definitely hadn't been pacing herself or prioritizing hydration.

Arden lets out a bark of laughter. “We'll get a big thing of fries,” they promise, not giving a second thought to the marriage comment. Instead, they scroll through their contacts, pulling up the number for Granny’s before turning their attention back to Teagan.

They shove the water bottle back in their bag, keeping an eye on the woman as she moves. If at all possible, they'd like to prevent her from falling on her ass a second time that night. Therefore, holding hands is also a good call. That doesn't stop them from feeling anxious about it, though; it'd been even longer since they held hands with someone than it had been since their last hug.

"One round please." She hands over the tickets and the attendant activates the machine. The gears snap and then the skee balls descend down the slot, clacking together a few times before settling still.

Teagan grabs one and offers it over to Arden. "Do you want to try first, or are you gonna let me do the heavy lifting?"

Arden blinks, pausing for a moment before speaking. “…did you just boop me?” they ask, letting out a laugh at the absurdity of it. They take another, longer sip of their mead. Teagan is clearly a much more physically affectionate person than they're used to dealing with. Which, they suppose, makes sense considering she has three rather young siblings.

Again, Teagan beats her to the punch, handing over a bunch of tickets before she's able to. She shoots the blonde a bemused look, though her focus is more on the game in front of them.

They're hit with a twinge of nostalgia at the sound of the plastic balls rolling down toward the slot and clacking against one another. It had always been one of their favorites as a kid, though it'd been years since they last played. Still, they accept the offered ball, not wanting to back down from the challenge. “I'm so rusty,” they flash her a sheepish grin. “Please be nice if I totally suck.”

They step up to the ramp, tossing the ball in their hand and trying to get a feel for its weight. After a quick breath, they wind back and send it rolling up the ramp. It bounces off the edge of the 30 point hole and into the 10.

"Um, I..." Teagan reluctantly pulls away, certain that she is being too much for the person that wasn't even her friend. They were Efa's.

The two of them hardly know each other in spite of Arden being a guest so often at the Myrick's. What can Teagan possibly be to them? Besides being mostly a stranger with baggage, what else is there? They only sometimes saw each other throughout childhood, and she's sure she was nothing more than Efa's sister.

All this, and it still didn't stop Teagan from taking the promise Arden is offering her. It's selfish, but she can't help it. For one night, and one night only, she's letting someone else do the heavy lifting.

"I guess we can, um...go." She croaks, swaying slightly. "If that's still okay." Wincing from embarrassment, Teagan looks around to keep herself from making more of a fool of herself, adding, "I'll order us some burgers to be delivered. If I'm famished, I bet you are too."

They'd been lucky for so long, having a close childhood friendship that continued on into adulthood, they knew that— know that. They hadn't struggled with feeling alone as often as the average person their age had. Jo and Efa had been there when her dad died, Jo had been by her side through university and her work struggles, they'd been there through her short-lived relationships, seen her at her worst and helped pick up the pieces. Of course, having a close friend or two didn't stop the loneliness from creeping in, but it helped, having someone she could truly be open with and comfortable confiding in.

Which had only made the past two-ish years that much more difficult. They'd never before felt quite as alone as they had since coming back home. And Efa's passing had only worsened that feeling. They'd lost someone they'd once been so close to, but also the opportunity to rekindle that friendship had slipped through their fingers. They could never get that back. And she had had to deal with it all alone. Jo had never called her back.

Arden will not be leaving Teagan alone. However, she can't say it's entirely out of empathy and the goodness of her heart— a selfish part of her doesn't want to be alone either.

A good length of time passes, the two women just standing there in front of the Stag, hugging. The sky has fully darkened by now, stars shining above them. They can still hear the distant sounds of the bar behind them, a steady hum of voices audible underneath the ambient sounds of the night— crickets and katydids, the rustling of trees. It's peaceful in a way. However, that peace is eventually broken by a patron leaving the bar, making Teagan finally pull away.

Her eyes are red rimmed and slightly puffy, a discernible, lingering sorrow in them. But there's more clarity in her gaze, as if the crying has helped to sober her up a bit. Enough so that the reality of the situation seems to hit her, leaving her looking embarrassed by her breakdown. It's not as if Arden can judge, though, certainly not after their own breakdown at the cemetery in front of a total fucking stranger.

“Yeah, of course,” Arden says kindly. “My place is pretty close by.” Before they even start walking, they pull their water bottle from their bag and offer it out to her. “Yeah, I was gonna suggest we get something, my treat. Burgers sound good.” A shrug. “I could fuck up some fries right now, not gonna lie,” they add, trying to lighten the mood a little. They could also really go for a fuckin' drink, honestly.

She redirects everything to them in hopes of bringing them an iota of comfort or reprieve. Because if she receives it, there's less of it for them, and she is supposed to be the source of what they need. So it surprises her when she sinks into Arden. They stop her freefall without hesitation, and it startles her, just for a moment.

In it, Teagan lets go for the first time since she first heard the news last year. She grasps at Arden's blouse, tangling her fingers inside the web of hair at their nape, doing anything she can to get closer.

Despite the way Arden quells most of the agony plaguing her heart, Teagan's voice still comes out as a rasp. "Please," She nods, keeping her face buried in Arden's neck. "I don't want to be alone." Not anymore. Not for now.

It had become apparent in their recent interactions that Teagan was wound incredibly tight, and it made total sense. Not only had she lost three family members in one day, but also, as one of the two eldest siblings, she had inherited the farm and taking care of her three youngest siblings. But it had also become clear to Arden that she had been trying to bear all of her new responsibilities alone, despite having multiple adult siblings around her that could be helping. So why weren't they?

It was a thought that had been nagging them since they'd begun to talk more. Maybe Teagan just put up a better facade in front of her siblings, but did they not see how overwhelmed she was? Lord knows, she and her mother didn't talk about things when her dad died, but they also weren't as close as the siblings appeared to be.

Arden slumps into the hug a little herself. She doesn't exactly remember when she'd last been hugged like this— probably not since Boston, honestly. More feelings of guilt stew in her stomach, but she doesn't have it in her to deal with that right now. Certainly not when Teagan is making a pitiful plea that breaks their heart.

“I'm right here,” they say simply.

He reads the name of the gravestone, of her father, and stares at the carved letters like they mean something more than just the imprint against stone. Hiro has only visited his parents graves once, just after their funeral. Aside from the most obvious reason of their being in Japan and him being here, several thousand miles away, he’s not even sure if he’d have visited if distance wasn’t at issue. His parents wrote themselves out of his story when he was six. When he was told they died, he hadn’t even cried. If he could have opted out of attending the funeral, he probably would have, but familial duty and his grandparents didn’t permit him the option.

“Time is fake,” Hiro replies simply, tapping ash into the grass by his boots. It stopped being distressing to him a long time ago but he's not immune to it. The memory of time comes back to him on quiet nights when the roof of his van feels very close to collapsing and the oxygen inside runs thin.

Her father would likely disapprove of the habit in that 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed' kind of way that would be both better and worse than the quips she gets from her mother. It's something they've thought about before— this isn't the first time they've smoked at the cemetery, and it probably won't be the last if they're being honest. As much as they try to kick the habit, sometimes a cigarette just fuckin' hits. Still, she's seen the destructive power of addiction; it's been branded into her mind with a bruising, searing kiss, and now it haunts her with every drag and every pour.

God, her mind is a mess. Thoughts and memories bleed together, each one feeding into another: Efa, Jo, dad, Efa, Jo, dad. The man crouched beside her had startled her out of the depths, but still her mind swirls and spirals, immersed in grief. So his question is more than welcome, an opportunity to focus her mind on a singular line of thought. She takes another drag before speaking.

“He was the best,” they say with a soft smile, “kind and intelligent and endlessly patient, big science nerd, and just nerd in general, really.” Like father, like daughter and whatnot. “He was a teacher at Bleeding Hearts Secondary. A good one, too.” They take another quick drag of their cigarette, words coming more easily as they continue. “It was something that seemed to come kinda naturally to him— teaching, I mean. He loved to learn, and he was good at inspiring that passion in others. He's the reason I got into writing; he always took me to the library when I was a kid and make up dumb little stories together. And, even into my teen years, we'd tell each other about what books we were reading or which ones we'd just finished.”

Their smile is small, bittersweet, though more sweet than it is bitter, flashes of memories wafting through their mind's eye as they spoke. It's only after they finish that train of thought that they blink out of their reverie. “Sorry,” they say, turning to face him. “I have the tendency to ramble when I talk about things I love,” they admit with a small chuckle.

"Hi," Teagan mumbles, balance still mostly evading her. She has to plant her hands on Arden's shoulders to keep from falling back into the bushes.

Briefly, it seems like Teagan is going to topple over again, taking Arden with her this time around, but she shoves her weight forward to prevent this. She miraculously keeps them both up, using both of their bodies to counter-balance the other.

"S-sorry." Teagan bashfully shambles upright, maneuvering her hands from Arden's shoulders, to her cheeks. She leans forward with a drunk and crooked smile, and gives Arden a grateful kiss to their cheek.

For a few seconds, she lingers, but a sharp instance of sobriety catches Teagan off guard. She immediately pulls away and has an apologetic expression contorting her face. "Um...wait. Wait, wait." Blinking several times, Teagan takes a moment to brush away some messy strands of hair until she's able to focus again.

"I-I can't go home like this. They, um...no, no. It's the anniversary. They're dealing...dealing with enough." She chokes a little as she speaks, eyes brimming red and watering with tears. "I'm such a mess. I'm-I'm..." Teagan can't finish the thought, too consumed by the grief she was trying so hard to avoid.

This time they don't immediately let go, hands lingering on her waist to make sure she's steady. “It's all—” they start to brush off the apology, when Teagan cups their cheeks. Their heart jumps and starts beating in overtime as there's an explosion of nerves in their stomach. “—good,” they finish, voice a whisper, as she leans down, face inching closer.

Arden doesn't breathe— can't breathe— she's just frozen in place, eyes wide, as Teagan presses a kiss to her cheek. Cheek. Right. Okay. That— that made more sense. She definitely hadn't been thinking Teagan was about to kiss her, that would be weird and wrong. Her mind flashes to Jo for a fraction of a second, and the mess in her stomach suddenly feels more like nausea than anything else.

Fuck.

She takes in a shaky breath as the clearly inebriated woman backs away, looking like she's trying to cling to sobriety. Teagan takes a second to breathe and think, mussing with her hair before speaking once more.

It's the anniversary.

The words only add to the feeling of nausea creeping up their chest. Fuck, it was the anniversary? It's like a punch to the gut, but Arden tries to swallow down the knot in their throat because Teagan stands in front of them drunk and drowning in grief, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. More déjà vu, more nausea, mixing with panic at the sight of her falling apart in front of them, as well as guilt that they'd forgotten and their own sorrow. They want to throw up.

Instead, they try their best to shove their own emotions aside as they focus on her. There are no words they can think of to try to calm her down, so instead they just pull Teagan into a tight hug, occasionally rubbing a hand across her back in a— hopefully— comforting manner.

"Oh no, your cute face. I'm sorry, lass." She hiccups, eyes half-lidded. "I was...I'm- I'm walking home." A wobbly arm juts out toward the Myrick residence, and Teagan struggles to see more than a muddied haze. For a moment, she is afraid that her eyes were filling with tears, but when she checks, she is happy to find it's just a symptom of the alcohol.

"I hope your face is okay. Put ice on it. There's lots of ice at the bar." While true, Teagan doesn't really understand what she's saying at this point. Only that her feet are moving and she has a goal to meet: home. But she only has the chance to take a handful a steps before she loses her balance and finds herself giggling in a bush.

The words make a mess of Arden's stomach, which churns with an anxious energy. “It's okay,” they murmur, “I've had worse,” The pain is fading with each passing moment, especially now that there's something else to focus on. Because Teagan is very drunk, and she wants to walk back home alone. Still, she offers some slurred advice about icing their head before she actually takes a few steps… and then proceeds to fall into a bush.

Shit.

She's laughing, at least, an adorable bout of giggles that brings a small smile to their face. They take a breath before heading over to the blonde sprawled out on the ground and offer her a hand up. “Let's get you home.”

Oh this isn't good.

Teagan's finishes her fifth drink of the evening and when she stands up, her legs are a little wobbly. She hadn't planned on venturing to the bar today. Originally, Teagan was supposed to make dinner for the kids, finish a few bouquets, and then take a nice bath with a few relaxing oils before heading to bed.

Unfortunately though, the grief got to her when a memory popped up in her notifications. A stupid recap of June from last year. It was filled with pictures she downloaded and arranged in her phone for the funeral service. Because tomorrow is officially the day the Myrick's lives changed forever.

In a matter of hours, Teagan found herself drinking alone at the Velvet Stag, so inebriated that she got cut off and is now standing on unstable legs. She takes a few moments to center herself, waving off an offer to get a ride home. She wants to walk back so she can try and sober up on the way there. And if that doesn't work, somehow sneak inside without her siblings catching her.

When Teagan gets through the door though, it hits someone on their way out. "Oh!" She slurs, "I'm so sorry."

Leaving the bookshop, they cut across the park, looking up at the evening sky. Pale blue meets orange and violet at the horizon, a pastel gradient of colors stretching out into the slowly darkening skies, not a cloud in sight. It's not the most extravagant of sunsets, but it's beautiful regardless, a calm, muted sort of beauty that makes her chest ache just a little. She pulls her camera out, snapping a few quick pictures before, feeling satisfied, she continues walking.

It's clear upon approach that the night is just about getting started at the Velvet Stag. Warm light spills out from the windows, from which she can see that the usual Friday night crowd has begun to file in after a long week of work. She can already see several familiar faces, townies nursing drinks and engaging in conversation with one another. The sounds creep out from the under the door, only becoming louder and more clear as they near the door. Taking a deep breath, Arden steels themself before reaching for the handle. However, before she can open it herself or react in any way, the bar chatter becomes much louder as the door swings open and smacks her in the face with a soft thunk. “Aughh.”

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Acting on instinct, a hand flies up to cradle their head, though that does nothing to help the dull pain pulsing across their forehead. It isn't the worst pain they've ever felt, but with the added surprise, it does leave them stunned for a moment. They're brushing off the apology, when then they blink and look up to find an especially familiar face.

“It's oka— Oh, Teagan.” They straighten, letting their hand fall to their side. “Hi.”

Teagan catches her friend struggling with something, but doesn't have enough information to help. "Hey, you okay?" She examines Arden, looking a little closer than she probably should. Likely because she's feeling just a tiny bit fuzzy.

"You look like you might've choked on your mead a little. You're supposed to swallow." A playful double entendre, and Teagan adds another elbow jut to Arden's side. It's easy to be playful, and she's happy she took the opportunity to take a break. It's been far too long since Teagan has been able to have time for anything other than the farm or the family.

"How about some skee ball? Fifteen-thousand points lands you a prize. I can get that, easy."

They are decidedly not fine, nerves now alight, though they try to banish any thoughts of dates from their head. Them on a date with Teagan Myrick? They shake their head, running their fingers through and ruffling their locks, maneuvering it to hopefully help obscure their reddened cheeks somewhat.

“Just went down wrong 's all,” she murmurs. And, while she clocks the emphasis on swallow, the intended joke goes over her head.

Clearing their throat, Arden takes another sip of mead and tries to pull themself out of their head. They're in the town square, surrounded by other festival goers. An upbeat melody floats above the din of chattering voices, and the scent of fried foods hangs in the air. Teagan is still peering down at them, but her concern has been replaced by a bright, infectious smile as she suggests skee-ball.

“Oh?” She can't help but smile. “I didn't know I was in the presence of a master. Lead the way then, sunshine.”