𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦

task #005: the colors of fiona o’hara (pt. 2, the many)

task #005: the colors of fiona o’hara (pt. 1, the neutrals)

“It’s like you don’t know me,” he laughs, “I’d probably do anything you ask.” There weren’t many people, other than Fiona, that took a conversation in a completely different, unexpected direction every time they spoke. “You’re open to Hell if Satan is somewhat sexy? What could Satan’s potential sexiness possibly to for you while you’re burnin’?” He furrowed his brows. “Alright. So that leaves reincarnation and Heaven. If you were to reincarnate, what would you wanna reincarnate as?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy and abuse your kindness though,” she huffed, hiding a smile, “I want it to be spontaneous. Better yet, subliminal.” His question made her grin, knowing just how ridiculous she sounded. He still entertained the absurdity. “I know God isn’t sexy. And Jesus is probably a little sexy but overall, a potentially a prude. If the devil is sexy, I’d much rather rot with him, wouldn’t you?” Tapping her chin, Fiona pondered. “Best case scenario? A cat probably. They sleep and they’re lazy but we accept it. What about you?”

“i mean, if i tell you it’s pathetic i’d be saying everyone who did is and i don’t think that’s true. i’m just surprised you’re not already scooped up.” 

“risk my entire reputation to bust out a goat? absolutely i do, why are we still standing here?”

anna: i'm definitely commissioning your help!!

anna: i haven't even found a place yet, but i found the CUTEST floral wall idea on pinterest

anna: oh gosh, replanting is where i fail and end up ruining them all

fiona: if you pay me, i'll do all the work

fiona: once we have the place settled

fiona: you have to promise to talk to them though

“Whoa, whoa, easy. Magic in the kitchen, obviously. Definitely no magic in the bedroom for people who don’t wanna give out their first name. Maybe that makes me a prude, but I gotta stick to my guns on this one. Mama didn’t raise no floozy. Okay, only problem is I’m not a bartender, and there’s no McDonald’s around here. So as much as I think you deserve that perfect date, I just don’t know if I’ll be able to make that happen. Unless you have a plan B. There’s always Operation.”

“I know you don’t know me but I feel like you know me. And the fact that you assumed that I was wanting to make magic is hurtful. And here I thought fate was real and confirmed by you. My heart will go on, aching for its true other half. You could drop you name first, stranger. I can settle for beer and I’m willing to bet you make a mean MockDonald’s but I won’t beg. As long as I’m drunkenly playing Operation, I’ll be pleased. 

“I’m your girl,” Babs tells her with a smile. “What other songs do you like to do at karaoke? And what’s the worst performance you’ve ever seen?”

Her words pulled a smile to Fiona’s face. “Depends on my mood, y’know? Some days I love shocking the other patrons and belting out Alanis Morissette— especially if I’m mad. Good nights, it’s 80s hits. And then I’m not even singing, I’m enthusiastically screaming.” Thinking back on her nights, she grinned. “There was this guy who came out one night... I think he was in town for the night on a road trip or something. And he sang Who Let The Dogs Out and I swear, if I died after that performance I would be at peace.”

Taylor listened as she put the two racks of ribs in the buggy, laughing along with her. “I couldn’t never pick the best watermelon-all of them are either too sweet or a little too sour. I can never find a perfect watermelon.” she said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “Oh it is-sometimes I have to make three batches of ribs just so I have enough for everyone in my family.”

“Next time you have a good ol’ barbecue and need some watermelon, call me and I’ll take you shopping. I can pick out all the produce and leave you very pleased,” she grinned, “We’ll say it’s my superpower.” Fiona’s eyes widened at the numbers she was spewing. “Damn? Three batches? You have a big family?”

“Oh I can only imagine,” Rayleigh replied with a short laugh, “My dad just tells them he needs flowers for my mom, pretty sure Annie already knows what she likes so he doesn’t have to.” It was cute, her dad always gave her mom flowers once a month and a bigger bouquet on  birthdays or other special holidays. “I wish, unfortunately if I mute them then I can’t appropriately slide in the occasional comment so they don’t think I’m ignoring them.”

“That sounds about right,” she laughed, thinking about some of her regulars and how most of the time, the men had a usual arrangement. It was sweet, it was minimal effort, but Fiona couldn’t help but smile every time a doting lover came in. “That’s fair. I feel like they mostly just want to hear themselves talk and if you’re submissive, they’re pleased but god— I couldn’t do what you do. Do you ever wanna snap? Or drink?”