These moments were her favorite ones. The ones that made time stand still, and it was just the two of them. Illyssa found herself melting into the kiss, one hand coming to rest on the Henry’s chest as she pressed a little closer to him. Smirking as he teases her about resting

                    “I’m pregnant. Not dying.” She replied with a slight roll of her eyes but she didn’t fight as Henry’s gently movements guided her toward the stool in the kitchen. After making herself comfortable she turned just in time to see him sweep into a bow, just laughing at the sight “I believe we still have some of that fruit salad leftover from the other night? That would be perfect.” She suggested with a smile before fixing him with a look. “You don’t know it’s going to be Henry Junior Mister Deaver. Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.” She added though her words were light and teasing and her smile warm.

❛ YOU SAY THAT, MISSUS Deaver, but all I hear is that there’s a certain chance that the baby might indeed be a Henry Junior. ❜ His grin is wide & toothy, odd-eyed hues gleaming mischievously before he finally sweeps up to his full height once again. The idea of a baby -- their baby fills him with a buoyant sense of joy. The idea of starting a family with the woman of his dreams had seemed so far away before, a figment of his imagination. After all, a man like him -- steeped in the trauma of a broken household & a troubled father -- is never the ideal candidate for something as serious as fatherhood. But now -- now, when he sees Illyssa, he sees a future.

DON’T LET THAT FUCKING KID OUT.

indie priv / sel & dash only. the kid from castle rock. adored by addy.

             Furrow     of     sculpted     brows,     purse     of     full,     roseate     lips     –     there’s     slight     irritation     in     her     countenance;     a     sideways     glance     thrown     towards     the     boy     reveals     he’s     still     casting     glances     here     and     there     at     her,     and     has     been     for     a     while.     Fleur     is     used     to     it,     stares,     some     more     unsubtle     than     others,     but     sometimes     it     becomes     tiring     –     still,     she’ll     stand     tall     from     her     bench,     chin     held     high     and     snap     her     book     shut,     turn     on     her     heels     to     face     the     stranger,     “     can     I     help     you?     you     have     been     staring     at     me     for     quite     zome     time.     It     can     be     considered     rude     to     zome,     you     know?     ”

     Tap, tap, tap.

          The tip taps of its shoes echo out, its large body seeming to blend into the darkness that surrounded it. To the point that you could hardly tell where one started and the other began. But then it doesn’t matter as its long limbs seem to reach out, gloved hand wiggling thin fingers, as if beckoning, its eyes– or where its eyes were supposed to be were glowing.

                    The pen in his hand clicked nervously against the wooden table as he put it down, reaching for the tape recorder that he had just pulled out of his bag. The boy–man?– had physically pulled back when he had placed it down. He already knew that this meeting had been asking a lot, and he didn’t want to jeopardize the rest of it. “I’m sorry, here let me just put this away.” He murmured, looking down at the device in his hand before slipping it back into the bag at his feet. “I wasn’t trying to make you–well more uncomfortable…” He trailed off with a sigh. This was going absolutely terribly.

                    “No, no you haven’t done anything, and i’m really grateful you decided to come honestly. I was just wondering if I could ask you some questions? ”

HE SHIFTS UNCOMFORTABLY IN his seat, the air growing thicker with each sharp inhale he takes. It feels wrong. It always feels wrong -- and this man doesn’t seem to realize. His lawyer has a brother & the brunette seated before him is his partner -- that much he knows. But why the other male seems so determined to ask questions and pester into the blood-soaked mysteries of Castle Rock is lost on the kid. No one’s ever wanted to know why. Warden Lacy had made it clear that there is never an explanation for the divine hand. God did as He pleased -- and to question His actions would brand you as a heretic. You do not question His grace -- and He had commanded that a boy like him is far more sinister than the naked eye can see. And so he festered for twenty-seven years, rotting in a cage until the darkness consumed whatever sanity the kid had left. Does he even have the answers ? The question burns on his tongue -- but his throat is too dry, tongue too garbled, to form the words.

               HIS JAW IS TIGHT, gaze studying the man in front of him with a rather frustrated expression lining the edges of his face. It had been a long day and it wasn’t even noon. The hunter wasn’t sure what to make of any information he’d been given — and this little place… well, it was UNSETTLING to say the least.   ❝ I came… a very long way to meet you — so thank you for agreeing on meeting me. ❞   There’s a short pause as he considers his words,   ❝ I know about what happened, and frankly — it’s some of the weirdest shit I’ve ever heard in my life but that’s not what I’m here for today. This place has always been on my radar the — activity… here…. is incredible. And… I need your help with something. ❞

’ WEIRD ‘ DIDN’T SEEM TO be an apt enough descriptor for the sleepy hollow in which the kid finds himself trapped in. It’s as if the very fabric upon which Castle Rock was built is carefully ripping at the seams, stitch by painful stitch, until the very contents of hell are let loose onto the streets. Warden Lacy’s quiet, reverent timbre echoes in the chambers of his empty skull. DEVIL, DEVIL, DEVIL. God was testing him with guilt, pushing his limits for every single night in which the kid was trapped beneath the depths of Shawshank. Bi-colored hues are vacant, glassed over & almost clouded with something far away and distant -- as if the man seated before him is little more than an imagined daydream. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s hallucinated. A beat passes, silence engulfing the room thickly before finally, the kid lifts his head enough to fixate a blank-looking stare upon the other. He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing visibly as he does. He looks small in spite of his imposing height, broad shoulders hunched & worn flannel far too large for his sickly frame.

her squint is violent, as if she couldn’t see the person in front of her in full. she’s got an unease that isn’t dissimilar to discomfort she’s felt before and yet, it kind of feels brand new. there’s something terribly off about him. he speaks like he’s never heard his own voice and she wonders if the skip in his voice is because she makes people nervous or because it’s an impediment due to some medical reasoning she does not understand. she white knuckles the pencil in her hand and the pop of her gum breathes like a warning. she’s like a wild animal. but the more she absorbs his energy, he seems quite animal-like himself. which would have pretty a deeper caution to someone else but makes her a little more warm to his presence. she prefers animals to people, after-all. you could always tell their intention. “and here i flattered myself in thinking you were talking about me.” she resumes back to shading eyes.pretty grotesque sketch, if she were commenting on her own work. “thanks..” she tosses it out like an after thought because it was.

a piece of gum snaps into two pieces between two fingers before it’s shoved into her mouth and obliterated. it’s full of sugar. the kind of gum that sticks to your face if you blow too big and it pops. she finds comfort in the messiness of it. but it’s merely a distraction piece if anything. something to busy a fraction of her as she draws in a stolen sketch pad, on a blanket in the grass. she notices him as a blur in the corner of her eye — she’s always cautious of the people around her, always counting heads. but she doesn’t think any of a pass-byer until he stops and utters something. green eyes glance up, take a quick double-checking sweep around her, until she settles on the fact that they’re the only two around. “what?”

DON’T LET THAT FUCKING KID OUT.

indie priv / sel & dash only. the kid from castle rock. adored by addy.