# 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘤𝘴.

THEY  KNEW  their  presence  was  an  unwelcomed  one;  sometimes  marlene  swore  not  even  their  parents  wanted  them  around  --  their  strange  -  eyed  child,  waiting  behind  corners  to  trip  their  siblings  as  they  ran  down  the  halls.  their  thorn  -  sharp  smile  as  others  befell  mysterious  tragedies,  paved  the  way  to  marlene's  supposedly  hard  -  earn  accomplishments.  they  tried  to  reel  it  in;  tried  to  soften  their  gaze,  the  smile  already  set  onto  their  face  as  they  walked  besides  the  blonde.  "real.  i've  always  preferred  walking  at  night.  like  when  it's  colder  out  --  and  there's  less  people.  been  stared  at  enough  in  my  life,  you  know?"  they  give  a  half  -  hearted  shrug.  "it's  nicer.  you  should  give  it  a  try,  sometime  --  you  know,  with  your...  dog,  or  your  boyfriend  --  or  me,  if  you  want."

❝ 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗜𝗥𝗖𝗨𝗠𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦, 𝗜 don't think walking at night is a great choice. ❞ there was no mirth in her tone, no laughter, no joke. fingers twist at the rings on her hand, a nervous trait that she'd gathered recently, not because she was nervous but rather something to do with her hands, so not to pick at the skin. ❝ — but i get it. ❞ she does, get it, if only recently as well, the stares, the whispers, she gets what the other is saying. ❝ that's very kind of you to offer. thank you. ❞ penelope would probably not take them up on it. not because of them, but rather to avoid the company of anyone that wasn't family.

𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗨𝗙𝗙𝗦, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗 in his own hair drops, falling momentarily through the air before slowing to tangle within soft tresses that sprawled across him. a familiar touch as he sweeps locks behind ear before tugging at the ends softly. ❝ all i can imagine is him finding out about those ducks that yell when you squeeze me ? ❞

palms turn heavenward, shrugged shoulders almost reaching his ears. "it's not like you were bringing anything more interesting to the table." a better look at the bartender makes his voice lose it's edge. "what's up your butt?"

𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟𝗬, 𝗦𝗛𝗘'𝗗 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 this headache since the early hours of the morning, smart thing to do would be to not go into work. her moods often dim, but throw a headache into the equation and people are better off steering clear. ❝ just because i bring you drinks, doesn't mean i wanna listen to your rambling. ❞ she huffs. ❝ nothing, just this stupid headache. ❞

FINGERS  REACH  up  to  hold  their  cigarette  in  place  as  a  smirk  is  carved  out  of  their  features,  "scare  easily?"  an  eyebrow  lifts,  less  curiosity  than  mockery.  bunny  watches  her  movements;  his  skin  has  a  sheen  of  its'  own,  prickled  with  the  cool  breeze  that  washes  over  them  every  now  and  then.  "i  got  a  lot  to  offer."  he  replies  --  and  it's  a  lie;  because  bunny's  got  next  to  nothing,  besides  the  cigarettes  in  their  pocket  and  their  body.  lifting  himself  off  the  wall;  bunny  takes  a  step  closer,  eyes  flickering  over  leyla  --  curious,  amused  --  as  he  fixes  the  smoke  between  his  lips  again  and  bends  forward.  "well?  you  gonna  light  it  or  what?"

PEAK OF TONGUE APPEARS, before teeth dig into lower lip, already bitten red as nimble fingers twirl the bic lighter, thumb pushing at the metal, sparking the fluid inside before shutting it off. she doesn't move closer, doesn't extend her fingertips forward for them. ❝ — well ? ❞ she mimics, parots as if the mock him, imitation on her lips. ❝ you gonna show me whats in it for me ? ❞

           𝗚𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚   𝗛𝗜𝗦   𝗧𝗢𝗢𝗟𝗦   ,   𝗛𝗘   𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗦   𝗔   wrench   before   tossing   it   into   his   toolbox.   rising   from   the   kitchen   floor   ,   rust   steadies   himself   on   his   feet.   that   southern   charm   he   thought   he’d   left   behind   before   heading   off   to   college   all   those   years   ago   still   lingers   in   his   voice.    ❛❛    it   was   my   pleasure   ,   miss   kovi.   ❜❜   rust   says   with   a   nod   ,   a   faint   smile   playing   on   his   lips.   he   shakes   his   head   slightly   ,    ❛❛    won’t   cost   you   a   thing   —   well   ,   unless   i   could   trouble   you   for   a   glass   of   water   ?   ❜❜

𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗦 𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦, 𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦 bursting with mirth. because as much as she appreciated, that sweet southern hospitality brings amusement forth. ❝ how many times do i have to tell you ? ❞ brow quirks, lips twisted softly. ❝ it's devina, mister boone. ❞ she admonishes in a tone that's unlabelled. ❝ you've had to fix this sink so many times, please, let me give you something ? a glass of water isn't enough. ❞ she shakes her head, a flurry of dark wild curls against her neck as she turns away, tips of toes pressed into the kitchen floor as she reaches for a glass.

turns out, it didn't matter what was said -- tommy still didn't know how to respond. the basket feels like it's about to slip between his hands now and he holds onto the edges extra tight. "umm..." he takes in a long inhale, cheeks puffing out as he holds it in as if needing the extra air for his brain to turn. "i don't really know, to be honest. but it's better than a card and flowers, right? food you can actually eat."

𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦𝗡'𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 heart to tell him, to tell anyone, that their offerings, their efforts, their foods go untouched mostly. so she does what she does best — she smiles sweetly, sadly, hands outstretched to take his gift. ❝ i 'spose you're right. ❞ she muses. ❝ fresh pots on, wanna cup ? ❞

"your girl?" sound the alarms, robbie's sunk his teeth in and has no plans on letting go until he squeezes out every last laugh. "bailey's got himself a girl, with a lid like that?" finger reaches out to flick one of his curls. "you've gotta stop lyin' straight to my fuckin' face."

❝ 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗟𝗦 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗦, my man. ❞ wyatt huffs, swallowing down his embarrassment, he hadn't meant to refer to her like that. because she is his girl, just not his girl. he thinks, he doesn't like that. ❝ you're just jealous your mom had her fingers all caught up in them last night. ❞ childish ways return. ears hidden beneath the mop of curls pink and warm. ❝ who says i'm lying ? ❞

a strong arm swoops around the girl as he carefully takes her over to the couch. his jacket comes off and is placed over bare legs. "eh, we've all been there." he shrugs casually, as his phone screen changes to 'no answer'. "good night for it."

𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦 𝗙𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗜𝗦 movements before neck rolls, stretches from the cramped state before she huffs. she still doesn't know why she agrees to these nights anymore. ❝ 'spose you would know, working in a bar and all. ❞ rubbing a hand across her brows, thoughts scurrying over potential ways to get her friend home.

helpless in his ability as a father to take all of their pain away, all he can do is silently admit under a shaky breath, "so do i." and what a cruel world it is, for paul to now realise that he'd never wished for the same when caroline was taken from them. he'd wept for her, carried her with him, and would miss her eternally but she was his heroic older sister, a woman who could do anything in his eyes. all he wanted for her was to rest easy. but abigail would always be his baby, taken from them unfairly and he'd give anything to have her back. fear stricken eyes looks up at nel at her words. he can't imagine how it must feel to lose half your heart. "i know, i know. but we've got to let her go." a gulp, as voice trembles. "she won't be alone. she's safe now. she'll be at peace, and you'll soon feel her all around you."

𝗜𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗦 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗖𝗛, the acid in the pits of her belly gurgle and bubble, bile rising but she swallows it back. she doesn't want to let her go. the violent images behind her eyelids don't let her forget, traumatised. guilt for not calling her last night settles in the place of heartbreak, guilt for letting abby call off dinner three weeks before, guilt for every fight that went unsolved, guilt for not saying i love you on their last call. ❝ how can someone be at peace when they were left like that ? ❞ if only she'd left the house early, maybe, just maybe, abby would of been alive. but a sickening thought passes that abby was long gone before penelope roused from slumber.

“it’s fine,” he says tersely. her general demeanour makes him feel guilty, even though he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. his cheeks now match the colour of hers, annoyingly. “really, it’s fine. you would just be better off having more of an awareness with what’s going on around you.”

❝ 𝗜 𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗗 𝗜 𝗪𝗔𝗦 sorry. ❞ brows dip, head tilts. unsure of what she's done to deserve the lecture. pink cheeks and all, chin juts upward, almost defiantly. ❝ if you said it was fine, why bother with a lecture ? ❞

𝗛𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗨𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗔 word to anyone, not even her. yet. but her words would never, not once, turn him off from a night in with her. this game of footsie they play, raises the hairs of his arm, his ankle hooked with hers as if it's the most natural thing it the world. tiny cafe table, barely any space between the pair, limb entangled together. ❝ oh what a shame ! ❞ he jokes. ❝ i guess i can let that happen. ❞ even if she hadn't of said it, he would find a way to get her exactly where he wants her. ❝ yeah, hit the grocers before we head back to mine ? wanna go netflix or old school and rent a dvd ? ❞

sleep-deprived and heartbroken, paul remains straight-faced as any sense of rationality leaves him. "is that my daughter, doctor?" the file, now hidden in a bag, only an arm's reach away. "did you call my dead daughter disgusting?"

𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦 𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗙𝗙𝗟𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 paul whittaker to his bag, his foot moving slowly, pushing the bag out of reach before the man could get any ideas. ❝ context was not here. ❞ he couldn't win this. he had in a sense done such a thing. but it wasn't the girl he was disgusted by, he could barely stomach to look at it, her. it was instead the crime scene that was left behind once her body was moved. it was a reason he wasn't a field agent and preferred the lab. ❝ i would never sir, i am so sorry for your loss. ❞ he hadn't meant to be heard, his tongue too fast to be stopped. and his words are true, he didn't have a daughter but he can guarantee if he was paul, he wouldn't be well.

a faint curl of the lips at her touch, as his eyes remain on hers, heat seeming to lick its way beneath his skin. there’s a burning desire, to push her leg apart and slide his hand along her inner thigh, but for now he’ll settle on the unspoken. “it’s not as easy as you might think,” he says gently, relieved. there was only her, no one else that made this god forsaken town bearable. patience wears thin, and he grabs the drinks menu and holds it in the space between them. it gives him an excuse to lean in and for her to meet him in the middle. “help me choose a good wine for the evening.”

𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗪𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗟𝗬, 𝗕𝗟𝗨𝗘 burn with something sweet, even in public, they play a dangerous game, the open menu between them, concealing them from peering eyes as they simply appear to be reading a shared menu, friends and nothing more. but it was so much more, and her skin burned, warm to the touch as hand falls between them, enough that her sharpened nail can graze the fabric of his pants. ❝ then i am lucky to have found myself in the best of company. ❞ she teases lightly, voice low as eyes never strayed from the menu.

NURSING  SOMETHING  entirely  too  sweet,  too  cold  to  be  gripped  between  their  hands  --  fenella  tilts  her  head  towards  wyatt  with  a  semi  -  curious  blink.  "hm.  charred  apples."  after  a  moment  --  she  picks  up  her  milkshake  and  lifts  from  her  seat;  more  -  or  -  less  glides  over  to  the  seat  across  wyatt's,  and  slides  in  without  invitation.  "if  the  town  were  truly  cursed,  then  locusts  would've  taken  us  all  by  now.  but  curses  can  afflict  people.  we're  born  on  soil  littered  by  death  and  disease  -  does  that  not  already  make  us  poisoned?  cursed  to  be  brutal?  i  fear  it's  our  nature."

❝ 𝗛𝗔𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢𝗟𝗗 you that your fucking weird ? ❞ wyatt questions, features scrunched up at her words. he certainly wasn't high enough for this kind of chatter. ❝ you know there's no such thing as curses right, witchy - woo, this is the product of someones sick mind . ❞

"wha--..." tommy blinks, mouth ajar. "that’s kinda rude?" maybe he was yapping away about the different kinds of lizards he'd encountered on his hikes, which he thought was actually very interesting, but he's taken aback by the abruptness. "i was just trying to start a conversation, i mean--" why was he even explaining himself? instead, he suddenly opts for a different approach: "you shut up."

❝ 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗧 of spine, did you baby ? ❞ halle taunted, brow raised as hands came to rest against the bar. ❝ you always start conversations about lizards ? ❞ truthfully, it hadn't been the topic. more so the pounding headache beginning behind her eyes.

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘'𝗦 𝗔 𝗕𝗨𝗕𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 regret in his chest, he should of worded it differently. he knew what nova was like. dark curls bounce as head shakes, denying the idea within seconds of it escaping her lips. ❝ want you to. ❞ he admits easily, because it wasn't a lie.