messages from the past

"Well, here you are." "Here I am."

bonus:

Watching him hand the tape over, a bright smile was thrown his way. Was that a hint of vanity there? They wouldn't be coming across anywhere to watch it anytime soon, she was sure. Yet, Lisa took it from him and moved to slip it into her bag.

The Man from Deadhorse had been the beginning of the end for his career, his reputation, his old life... but she didn't need to know that.

"Hell, you probably know that film better than me at this point." Cooper replied, watching her zip her bag with ease then pause in reflection.

"It'll look nice there," Lynnie agreed before turning back towards him and hobbling towards the box. A faint pang of pain slipped through her as weight was accidentally settled on her wounded leg.

Carefully, Lynnie lowered herself down to the box to look through the box of decorations. It had all been rather dated, but she made no comment on that fact. Back home, she had her own dated figurines for Christmas that her mother had once collected -- things that she'd managed to take from her worthless father after her mother had passed away.

"This would look nice by the phone," she said of the nativity scene, "We could find a candle to light beside it every night to really bring focus on it at night."

She handed it over to him before taking up some of the light strands. She hobbled with the strand back to the couch and took a seat. Fingers worked to untangle them slowly, carefully. The brunette pretended as if everything was fine, as if this was something normal between them.

He stood, taking the smaller box she handed over and set it on the table next to the phone for later. He noticed her getting up but was just a few seconds too late to help; she'd moved out of reach before he was able to offer a hand. A slight disappointed frown crossed his features as he reached down into the box for more lights but it was gone by the time he straightened back up.

She feels a hint of embarrassment. Never has she allowed herself to be so open with anyone like this before.

He watched her closely from across the table, hesitation crossing her features. Understandable, of course - she wasn't young, but she was young enough to still feel the eyes of society at her back, judging her every move. Perhaps that was the smartest reaction in this situation.

Hadley had some memory of that night, but not much. She'd recalled leaning against him as they had walked back to the hotel, but that had been it. It was his chuckle that relaxed her for the moment. He didn't seem upset about her admission.

American Gothic Gif-Through:

Rivalry [Part 1] – Pilot [3/?] 

                                          “What do you know about me?”  

Hadley listened to him speak about his past. All politicians had a story, had excuses, had reasons for all that they did. No matter the decision, there would always be people that were hurt. There would always be casualties somewhere. No doubt that those that had led during the Civil War had felt that weight on their shoulders, had held those casualties and traumas of the survivors in their mind constantly ... but they could still so easily make their excuses. That went for both sides.

"I can't think less of you," she assured him, smile still on her lips. "It's the truth of politics. Every move you make will have some amount of darkness."

The blonde could feel the whiskey starting to work on her slightly. She felt herself feeling slightly more floaty and it was with that knowledge that she would not allow herself to drink anymore. She hadn't had any plans on getting drunk. She'd been working until the Governor had come back to the office to find her there.

John watched Hadley return her glass to the table - no doubt she was feeling the potency of the alcohol starting to hit her. Of course after her stint the other night it made sense that she’d be a little more aware of how much she was drinking and around whom.

“Nothing offensive, I assure you.” He tried and failed to hold in a chuckle. He wasn’t lying to make her feel better; she had, in fact, said nothing that would offend him. Rather she had mentioned her interest in him as she swayed on her feet, clinging to his arm while he walked her back to her hotel room. Unfortunately her insistence that she repay him with a thank you kiss had been rudely interrupted by her promptly turning and vomiting into her bedpan.