Lara Winter

location: Alli’s Bridal Suite at Chateau Evergreen w/ @larawinter​

Her hair had never been as smooth as it was then at this direct moment. Allison peered over at the jewlery selection she had to choose from, she knew she wanted to wear earrings though she had a difficult time wondering if they should be dangly or more subtle. Staff had been in and out of her suite, mostly to ask her if she needed more water or if she felt a bit peckish but truth be told the butterflies in her stomach had hindered her from having much of an appetite. She politely dismissed the staff and took a look in the mirror. She had her mothers eyebrow arch and her cheekbones, she had her father’s smug smirk and smile, but her eyes had a tenancity that neither of them possessed, a happiness that once again they too did not possess. She was different, she was handling this day with as much care as possible because she knew she was marrying someone who would never drag her down or expect the same energy. She took a deep cleansing breath, the door opened once more and it caused slight alarm until she saw Lara’s grin and moon-shaped face. 

“My makeup’s not done yet so if you need to make me cry, now is the perfect time.” She joked. “But if my under eyes get puffy you will have to pay for it in the form of one feisty Lily Whittaker.”  She got up from her seat and immediately rushed to Lara, burrowing in her arms feeling tenderness, security, a true maternal embrace. “Are you here to watch me get ready?”

Weddings are sweet things, nerve-wracking things that induce the sweetest of joys, the warmest of loves, and yet lurking around the corner would always be that sharp edge of panic, of anxiety. For Allison, Lara only wants the best. She only wants today to go perfectly. Both she and Mason had been nervous all day, perhaps she more than he, but as the woman walking Alli down the aisle, she knew her worries had to merely pale in comparison to those of the blonde she grinned at from the doorway. 

“I won’t make you cry,” She softly promises, already reaching for the blonde that after all these years considers her family as much as anyone else that had passed under and into the Winter household. Alli was getting married today. Alli was getting married. She’s found her person, her safety, her happiness and hugging the woman she nearly feels as though she’s going to start crying and she attempts to stifle the tenderness that threatens to overwhelm her with a smile, with a nod and small laugh before she fully answers. “Yes, I am.” Lara wants to lean in again with another hug, move her hands to hold the other’s face in sheer giddiness that the day had finally come. But, she refrains and pulls away, feeling somewhat like a fawn gingerly walking in her heels and dress. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

The coin had landed on tails, it was Lara. It was almost a relief to have Lara be the one to answer first. He wasn’t even sure how he was going to answer, or even how he was supposed to. Even when Greg suggested it, a game to get them talking about the deeper issues, Quinn hadn’t really been told what kind of questions would be asked. But, that relief that he felt at Lara being the first to answer was short lived, dashed when he read the question. Do you think I intimidate others? 

This was the kind of question that would be in here. The first level, or whatever. Wasn’t that always an easy one for games? This one wasn’t exactly going to be easy to hear the answer to, he could already tell. But, fuck, if this was only the beginning, he regretted doing this. What else would come as they went through to other levels? He let out a breath, a heavy stream of air, before his hand moved up, rubbing the side of his neck as his eyes scanned the words over and over. He finally looked up at Lara, quick and fleeting before he finally read it to her. “‘Do you think I intimidate others? Why or why not?’” he read aloud, setting the card down, his eyes meeting hers. He felt uncomfortable in his skin suddenly. His eyes moved back, trailing over the pile of snacks, stirring a sickly feeling in him at the way this was going to go, regretting the idea of food through this. His arms folded in front of him, leaning back in the chair he sat in, his arms kept close and tight to his chest. 

Do you think I intimidate others?

She looks at him as he reads the card aloud, nearly looks away when his gaze meets her own, but she holds it until he ends up breaking eye-contact first. “Do I think you intimidate others?” Her echo of the question comes out as a wary exhale. And, she almost wants to laugh. She nearly does. It’s preposterous to think he wouldn’t intimidate others by his height alone, by his name— she doesn’t laugh. It’s not something to laugh about and instead it’s her gentleness that comes to break onto her expression as she watches him. Lara fiddles with her sleeve, a ring on her thumb as her lips nearly imperceptibly curve into the smallest of smiles. 

“I think you do intimidate others, Quinn.” She isn’t sure that’s something he wants to hear. But, the way that one was perceived wasn’t always in line with the way they viewed themselves, and of course Lara couldn’t lie to him. “The fights the past few months make it easy to say so... But beyond that? You’re a Hawthorne. Take away the name and you’re still over six feet tall.” Her gaze leaves him, briefly, as she glaces off to the side, then down to her hands. “Not everyone means to be intimidating, but I guess sometimes... You are.” Lara dares to look at him again, even if he won’t meet her eyes. “Sometimes it’s as simple as your laughter and your smile. Other times it’s your history, or your... Unpredictability. You umm... You do intimidate me sometimes.” 

Looking away again, she reaches for the deck of cards. Her turn to read one aloud. She nearly cringes when she sees what it says, and finally that nervous chortle of laughter escapes her. “What was your first impression of me?”

Lara was a quieter soul than Diana – it was something she appreciated. She picked up a tube of lipstick and pretended to consider the plum colored atrocity for herself while, thinking an audience might push her best friend along. When she was prompted to look over, she had to press her lips together to conceal a grin – it was a fond grin, but perhaps something that could be seen a little on the mean side. Mean for Diana, maybe. Still, she couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, putting the plum lipstick down as she reached for Lara’s hand and the pinker shade in her hand.

“I can barely see it,” she giggled quietly, running over the swatch on Lara’s hand twice more to load up on product. “More. Come on.” She raised her eyebrows challengingly, albeit teasingly. “No one but me knows you here. Put on this lipstick, buy it, and then let’s walk around this place like we own it. That’s fun, right?” she checked. “I think we both deserve a little fun after the couple of months we’ve had. We should look hot doing it, too.” She let go of Lara to grab the merlot colored lipstick she rejected in her head. “I’ll put on this one and it’ll be like when we were teenagers.”

—

Fond, critical, the expression on Diana’s features was so very quintessentially Diana that despite the idea of it being mean had perhaps once occurred to her when they were teenagers, it’s merely a look that Lara only sheepishly smiles back at. Had Lara not known the woman, nor trusted her as much as she did, maybe Lara wouldn’t have offered her the faint but visible swatch of lipstick on the back of her hand to be added to. 

The only thing that matters, though, is that she does trust her. And she’s so terribly fond of her as well, letting out a chortle of laughter that’s somewhere between bemused and embarrassed. Them. Teenagers. Right now, it seems like a lifetime away, something like some impossibility when Mason’s the same as she was when she had him, when her whole life so far had spun into the complete opposite of where she had planned. “Fine, fine,” Lara relents easily, her lipstick-stained finger running over the swatch more enthusiastically this time before she blots more of the colour onto her lips. She grins at the colour, the brightness a pretty contrast, and through the reflection she shoots her friend a smile, too. “If we’re going to act like we’re teenagers again, we’d might as well go all out. Outfit, shoes, the whole nine yards. But this time I won’t regret splurging my babysitting money.”

She imagined Mason snug in his bed, sleeping blissfully. Then she imagined smothering him with a pillow. It would serve him right, ass face… “Alright, Lara Croft, tone it down like, ten notches. God, if the sun really wanted to be seen rising so bad, it should have picked a more convenient time to do so. Maybe it chose so early because it’s shy and doesn’t want to be seen. Did you ever think about that?” 

—

“What’s got you so exhausted you can’t even handle the easy trail this morning?” Her expression quickly flits from gently  inquisitive to mildly concerned in another heartbeat, turning away from her sister not thinking she’s going to be given an answer. “At least it’s not raining, or freezing.”

The idea had seemed silly when his therapist had suggested it. An exercise, a piece of homework to help communicate and clear the air with Lara. It had gone so badly the last time, and almost every time lately. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d fought like they’d been doing lately. He nodded at her instructions. At her question, clarifying what his therapist had instructed. “Yeah, uh, two white cards sounds right.” He’d been having trouble meeting Lara’s eyes since he’d gotten there. Worried that a glance too long and they’d both be arguing all over again.

He hadn’t touched the snacks, holding off until Lara made a move for them, but with her own lead, he grabbed one of the bite sized candies with no specificity. As soon as he saw it was a Three Musketeers, he tossed it back, and grabbed another, accepting the second attempt with the bite sized Crunch. “A coin flip sounds good,” he agreed, almost paling at the game’s suggestion. He hadn’t even met her eyes, he figured they’d get there eventually, but for now this felt safe, a comfortable wall between them. He reached into his pocket, fishing out a quarter. “Winner goes first. Call it,” he said, tossing the coin in the air, letting it land back in his palm, before flipping it onto the back of his hand.

—

Had anyone told her ten years ago that this was how she and Quinn would be, she would have laughed. How could it be possible? To her knowledge (or, perhaps, her avoidance and attempted ignorance) he’d been clean and they were happy together. However, their reality was the opposite of where she would have thought they would be. Quinn can’t meet her eyes, and her hoodie sleeves that had been pushed up past her elbows now hid everything but her fingertips. Avoidance for him, comfort for her. It was clear that neither of them were at ease in each other’s presence. 

Truthfully, the idea of a staring contest made her want to hide. It was too vulnerable, too intimate; and, being as expressive as she was, Lara was afraid to let him see not only the hurt and worry that plagued her near-constantly but was afraid of how he would read it or how it would effect him. When Quinn agrees to the suggestion of a coin flip, her shoulders relax and she unceremoniously rips open the chocolate before popping it into her mouth. “Tails.” Lara responds automatically, gazing warily at the decks of cards that looked all the more intimidating with their red colouring. With her dark eyes traveling to his hands, she isn’t so sure that the triumphant feeling in her chest should event exist. She doesn’t have to pull a card first, but that means she’ll have to answer whatever query he speaks aloud from the card. “You first, then.” Lara’s already reaching for another piece of candy.

Liam smiled a little and followed her as she kept going. Fortunately he was a pretty athletic guy, he would have hated not to be able to keep up wit her. Even if she was so much younger than he was and there was no reason to be embarrassed. “I’ve been out here a couple of times,” he said. “Usually I just go for runs.”

—

“Running is definitely.... Not my forte,” She responds with a slight wince. Cardio? Running? No, thanks, it was just as awful attempting to get Lara to go to the gym: not happening. She could handle a sprint every now and again during a hike, but running was out of the question. “What’s your PR for a mile?”

John smiled at Lara’s words, nodding lightly before taking in a deep breath of the crisp air surrounding them. He could feel it fill his lungs and clear his head a little already – being outside usually did wonders for him but lately, it had been hard to allow himself this kind of peace. Growing up, John had always tried to spend time outside. He’d sit out in the garden, more often than not by himself, and sketch – dreaming up whatever it was he was missing at the time and bringing it to life on a piece of paper, leaning against the big tree his foster parents had taken such good care of. It made him feel grounded to this day and Merlot, while this hadn’t been the only reason he’d looked into getting a dog, forced him to stay active, to walk even if he felt like resting and to get out after a long day sitting on a desk himself. With his lips curling into a subtle smile, John nodded in understanding. “I grew up in the city but always felt really connected to nature. My parents used to take us to lakes and hiking trails all the time and I loved it,” he shared. “I feel like I’ve been venturing around here forever now but I’ll never know it all – there’s so much to see and so many trails to find,” he added. “Did you get scared? I got lost all the time when I first moved here – not just on hiking trails but just…around town,” he chuckled.

The words that followed brought John a sense of relief. Steep wasn’t something he did well with when he wasn’t feeling his best so he chuckled and gave a nod in confirmation. “He was being so patient,” John commented with a fond tone lacing his voice. Merlot was sat next to his human’s feet and John reached down to pet behind his ears, mumbling some words of praise before joining Lara now that they started to walk. “I try to! I only really started doing it when I got this little guy,” he said, nodding at his dog who was trotting along contently. “I don’t get to go as much as I’d like but I definitely had some time to explore – it’s been about seven years now, I think. Which really just means that I’m getting old,” he joked, trying to keep the mood light for now.

—

“I used to,” She easily admits. It was intimidating enough, losing track of where you were out here when cell service wasn’t the best (back then or now), and if you veered off course you had to be careful to remember where you’d at least come from. Being sixteen, seventeen, eighteen and hiking midday or midafternoon meant that she needed to be conscientious of her surroundings, but there were times where she’d simply lost track of things. “I was eighteen, I think? When I got lost for a few hours and didn’t get back to my parents when I said I would and they were watching Mason. It was embarrassing, though, since I’d also made it back after dark after realising I’d wandered further east of the trail than I’d realised.” Pausing briefly, Lara shrugs next before she lets out a small laugh. “After that, I wasn’t allowed to go out hiking alone or in the afternoons for a while. Never really got lost when I was a teenager wandering around, but I guess I got lucky.” It’s the beginnings of a horror film, really: girl goes hiking, girl gets lost, girl doesn’t make it back home for whatever reason. “You used to get lost around town?” The concept of it perplexes her, and the surprise on her face gives her away. 

“He wants off of his leash,” Lara smiles, scratching under the dog’s chin before she gestures for him to sit back again. “He’s used to me letting him off of it for walks, but I don’t trust him out here yet. Maybe in a few months.” As they start their trek, she gives the pup just enough slack to know he isn’t being kept beside her, but he seems content to take things slow for now, sniffing curiously but keeping within a yard beside her. Looking towards John, she smiles lightly as he speaks, but mostly keeps her eyes ahead to where she knows they’ll be diverting from the trail. “Growing older isn’t a bad thing. Besides, half of the top celebrities are in their forties and fifties and are hardly considered old.” But she knows her circumstances herself are different: she’s keeping up with people younger than her, working in a field where she doesn’t quite feel thirty-three. “Then again, I’ve been a mother for about half my life now and that makes me feel old some days. It’s a weird thing to wrap my head around.”

“Run?” Julia repeated, her tone fully implying that she had never even heard the word before. She squinted at the path in front of them as though measuring it with her eyes. She looked over at her and giggled. “Wait, just a run or are we racing?” she said. “Because I don’t think I’m very likely to win a race, to be entirely honest with you.”

—

“Race, run, same thing,” She laughs in response, still walking backwards as she speaks to the other. “It’s not steep and the path is clear enough that you’re not likely to trip on anything.” Lara would attribute the energy to the early morning air, cold in her lungs earlier this morning but now in the peacefulness of the atmosphere keeping her awake. 

Diana admittedly made a lot of the Nate and Quinn debacle – now frustratingly plural – about herself, and she was less than impressed with her selfishness. It wasn’t often she thought about her feelings before someone else’s, and the one time she chose to do so had inadvertently disregarded Lara’s. Who was arguably closer to the situation than she was. They had been through tougher things together, true, but none recently that left her with the feeling she owed an apology, whether Lara wanted it or not.

“Red,” Diana repeated with a nod and a soft smile. Her fingertips danced over the testers, her eyes looking for something with a blue undertone, and she shook her head. “No, everyone needs a red. Just knowing you have it ready to whip out when needed is power in itself.” She paused, her eyebrows furrowing. “That just made me sound incredibly shallow. We’ll get a pink-y red, too,” she offered, as if it cancelled out her self critique. “Not everything needs a purpose, though.” She picked up a tube she thought was acceptable and handed it to her friend. “Try this one.”

—

“Di—” It’s only a half-protest at best, a half-warning though she’s likely to fold as quickly as it leaves her lips. Splurging on something that she wasn’t likely to use at least once a week was still a difficult concept for her. After all, she’d been living with her parents until she was twenty-seven, and it was only a mere three years ago that she’d begun to relax somewhat about spending money on herself when it was more of a want than a necessity. Though she wouldn’t exactly call herself frugal, she was incredibly conscientious about how and on what she spent her money on. Spending on a whim was only really ever acceptable if it was Mason-related. 

But, her best friend acquiesces to the suggestion of something that leans somewhat pink rather than a bright red. Truthfully, the idea of such a shade intimidates her, but as Diana hands her a Guerlain shade labeled ‘325′ she absentmindedly spritzes it with the sanitizer before swatching it onto the back of her hand. “Doesn’t look too bad,” She murmurs half to herself before she steps closer to one of the mirrors, dabbing at the colour with the pad of her finger before applying it lightly from the center of her lips outwards, aiming for a light wash rather than the full-blown coverage of a painted red lip. “Too pink?” She thinks it’s pretty, it’s subtle with the way she’s applied it, but a part of her knows that this definitely wasn’t the power move, powerful red that Diana meant. “What’s the verdict?”

Liam ran a hand through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands off his forehead and offering the younger woman a slight frown. He felt like there was a slight implication that he was too old to keep up with her. Although that could be him being paranoid. “No, I’m fine,” he said. “I didn’t really need to rest before.” He gave a little huff and made a gesture. “We can go, I’m fine,” he said. 

—

Her problem, perhaps, was that she knew she was prone to moving too far ahead of everyone during a hike. Whether it was with a group or with only one other person, keeping the same pace with another was always an issue (and one she was attempting to keep mindful of) hence her light query as she paused. “Great, okay. Let’s keep going then.” Her response is paired with a nod, and she’s turned away again, footsteps light as she effortlessly carries on. “Have you been out hiking here often?”

She’s curled up in her chair, ears directed towards a conference call with her eyes flitting between one of her three monitors. Though she would be expected to be in Seattle for the kick off of the first major, it was decided that it’d be better for her to be in the city over the weekend instead of today. Maybe it’s luck, maybe it’s ironically good timing, but Lara’s only just ended the call when she hears her doorbell ring, and one glance towards her phone to check the front door’s camera has her rushing downstairs and flinging the door open to practically tackle her younger (albeit, only slightly taller) sister. 

“No shot, oh my god, what are you—” Breathless, happy, and half-laughing she holds Rocky at arms length with a grin on her expression. “Come in, come in—” Lara’s practically shooing her sister inside. “Have you seen mom and dad yet? How are you? Are you hungry? Oh my god, you’re here. Mason’s at school, but I’m sure he’ll glad to see you later.”

@larawinter whe​re: hobbit hole

He was loitering. That was the best way to describe it. He was loitering because what else was there to do besides the responsibilities that seem to be looming over him like a ghost in the shape of his dead father… yeah he should most probably process that bit of information a bit better too… 

But no, instead he was wandering around their local bookstore with his cellphone pressed against his ear. “It’s weird being back…” He said with a huff, brightening only slightly at seeing a stack of his books on display. “Disconcerting. Uncomfortable…” He grabbed the stack before slowly  spreading them out for better access. He wrinkled his nose at the sight of some competing paperbacks, only to cover them with a copy of his own new release. “If I could have you forklift me out of here, I would.” His editor let out a disgruntled noise that Saint found funny.  

“It can’t be that bad… besides, you shouldn’t be there too long…” He wasn’t so sure of that. He admired his handy work of covering every inch of the best seller wall with his own novels, only to turn and freeze. Without another thought, he ducked behind a pillar, whispering furiously into his phone. 

“Listen, is it too late for that forklift?” 

—

They had to have flashcards around here somewhere, right? Having lived in Crescent Harbour her whole life one would think she’d at least know her way around a bookstore. But, as things were, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been inside of it: everything could be ordered nowadays, or she could stop by somewhere in the city. She had the spare time today, though, and she didn’t want Mason to have to wait for more review material. With his attention span (she swears he gets it from her), she knew she’d have better luck with him reading these than actually opening up a practice exam book. 

What she doesn’t expect, however, as she idly wanders between shelves, is an entire section dedicated to him. Truthfully, she hasn’t read any of his recent novels: she didn’t have the time, and though he’d been one of her closest friends growing up, it wasn’t as though they were still in touch. Lara wrinkles her nose at the sight and walks past it without so much as reaching for one of the copies. 

A hurried whisper in the direction she’s walking eases her expression slightly, curiosity taking form in a lightly raised brow. It’s rude, she knows, to look over, but as she turns her head she can’t help but let out a small, albeit awkward huff of bemusement. “...Well,” She utters after a pause, keeping distance between them when years ago she wouldn’t have hesitated to hug him. At the least, she meets him head on with eye contact. “Congratulations on the new book. Are you passing through to promote it in Seattle?” 

The in-between seasons had always been John’s favorites. The ones that didn’t feel too hot or too cold but were a comfortable middle ground that still allowed him to wear what he was the most comfortable in, without making him feel like he could barely move. While it wasn’t quite spring-like yet, it felt good to get some fresh air and spend some time outside rather than being cooped up at the gallery or at home for once and he was sure Merlot would also appreciate the change of scenery, as well as the company. Lara’s voice snapped him out of his pondering and he looked back at her with a thoughtful hum. Stress usually worsened the remainders of his accident, an uncomfortable ache and tingling in his wrist and leg having accompanied him for a few days now, but he’d always been good at glossing over that, too, so the option to take a longer hike or even go off-road a little bit wasn’t all that unappealing. “You must know it like the back of your hand then – I’ll be honest, I still get lost sometimes, so if you’d be willing to lead the way, I’m fine with deviating.”

He appreciated the time spent with Lara, though he knew that once again, there’d been a shift that he wasn’t quite sure about just yet. John knew there was even more to talk about now, even more to unfold and he didn’t know if he could and should be as vulnerable as he had been that night they’d spent painting and drinking wine. Inhaling a deep breath of fresh air, John looked around, nodding softly. “That sounds good – I think we should go for that,” he said, thankful for any kind of distraction that’d keep either of them occupied while they talked – the longer the better because John doubted that it wouldn’t come up. A faint smile tugged on his lips as he looked at the dogs, nodding. “Merlot does, too,” he confirmed. “So I think the longer one or whatever route you’d like, would be perfect,” John added, leaving it up to Lara to lead the way.

—

“I like to think that I do,” She shrugs off easily. Admittedly, she probably did. Back in high school and even when she was in college it was her goal to make it out here to see sunrise as often as she could (weather and someone to watch Mason permitting). It was a little thing, one of the many that kept her going over the years and made her happy— no matter how small the adventure, it seemed to be enough to temporarily appease her desire to see the world when it felt so far out of her reach. Nowadays as she has nearly everything she’d ever wanted in her life, it’s just a hike. It’s an opportunity for some fresh air, a way to tire out the dog before she had to remain sat at a desk for however long during meetings and projects today, a way to keep herself sane when going to the gym or attending a yoga class wasn’t something she’d ever enjoy. Her parents still liked to joke that Lara could be dropped anywhere even off the trail and still find her way home. “Remembering the way a rock formation or a certain cluster of trees happens with time. And, I’ve gotten lost out here my fair share, too... I wandered off a lot.” 

“Since we have the dogs, I’ll make sure we won’t have to scale anything too steep, then,” She nods, letting out a small laugh as Milo rears up on his hind legs to paw at her. “Yeah, buddy, I know, you wanna go.” As much as she’d love to let him off of his leash, she didn’t think it would be fair unless Merlot were allowed the same. Milo never wandered too far, and by now they’d perfected being able to go out on walks in the neighbourhood without a leash, but hiking was a different story. Lara hoped that she’d be comfortable to let him off of the leash by summer; for now, she’d give the leash extra slack to see how he’d handle it while she starts off walking towards the right. “Have you been out here hiking much? You’ve been out on the west coast for a few years, right?”

Brandon had a complicated relationship with the great outdoors; while he enjoyed it, he much preferred to be within a heated space during the early spring months. “No, just trying to get some signal in this place. In case I get any messages during this time,” he responded, holding his phone above his head. “Next time, you’re coming to the gym with me. It’s compromise, Lara.” Few things would get him to wake up before dawn, and his younger sister was one of them. “You act like I can’t just go to Anchor Management and get an Eggs Benedict and a Bloody Mary after this,” he shot back as he trudged along, sighing at Lara likely knew that he didn’t feel like spending his money as freely despite having a reasonable amount of disposable income. Plus, homemade brunch did have a certain appeal to it. “Sunsets are prettier than sunrises anyway.”

—

“It’s before sunrise, you’re worse than I am with your phone.” It’s part complaint, mostly teasing, though, as she continues to take a few steps ahead of him. Her phone’s zipped away into her pocket, comfortably so as she knows that the social media sphere of her workplace wouldn’t begin its circus hours from now (and, work emails could wait). The true complaint comes when he suggests going to the gym. Her mouth immediately turns downwards as her brows furrow in decided loathing. “I’m not going to the gym. There’s no way that’s happening.” 

She is thankful, though, that he’d come with her. Especially when she couldn’t drag Mason out of bed during the soccer season when he didn’t have morning practice even if she tried. “You could go, but are you really going to go to Anchor Management? Pass up the chance to hang out with Mason and the dog?” Though her expression had lessened to a raised brow, it’s a snort that escapes her, accompanied by a playful roll of her eyes. “Sunrises and gyms for you, sunrises and hikes for me. How do we get along again?” Lara speaks with that familiar dry tone as she glances at him again. “I’ll bet you a week of carpooling to the city that I can get to the top before you.”

Since August, it felt like Nate’s favorite thing to do was leave Diana struggling to tread water. She wanted to believe him when he told her things, at least the things between him and Quinn, would be settling down, but she didn’t really know how to proceed. It was instinct to brush over the blips that happened within their family, to protect their reputation, but he had effectively made it impossible with this one. She had a feeling Lara wouldn’t hold her cousin’s actions against her, but the confirmation was relieving nonetheless – the confirmation being getting away from Crescent Harbor for however long they felt they needed. Diana loved their hometown, but the occasional escape to the city was necessary sometimes.

She let out a small laugh and plucked up a tester shade of lipstick, twisting it all the way up to look at it beneath the LED lights of the store. “Honestly? I haven’t bought lipstick for myself since I was a teenager. The makeup artist at the station tells me what looks best, and I trust him with my life. Something about undertones needing to line up with undertones.” She shook her head as she put the lipstick back down. She knew it was probably a rhetorical question, but she also couldn’t resist answering questions thrown her way. She hummed and was about to walk away from the counter before she paused, giving Lara a look from beneath her lashes. “You know… Red lipstick makes everything better. Even if you never wear it. Maybe we should find your shade.”

—

If they were all to be punished for the actions of their family members, Lara would have had a never-ending list of things held against her with as many fostered and adopted siblings she had that came from troubled pasts. Whether they grew to be successful or not in their lives, well, she could hardly be blamed. So it made no sense for her to hold anything against Diana, especially when they’d been friends for so long. It wasn’t as though she’d been the one to tell Nate to punch Quinn, or caused the altercation in December, or the one to throw Quinn in jail. Diana was her friend first, Mason’s godmother second, and Lara would judge her on what she did. Not what her family did. 

While Diana spoke, she idly swatched a colour on the back of her hand (too bright a pink), then picked up another to add another strike next to it (a pretty pink-peach but she wondered if she already owned something like it). “Your makeup artist makes sense,” Lara responds with an absent-minded nod. Though she wasn’t the type to own too much makeup or wear it often, it was always nice to at least look at. Rarely was there an occasion in her own line of work that required anything more than for Lara to arrive awake. Even in her own free time when she was streaming there was no pretense: hoodie, glasses, curly hair a mess. If she could ever look as half as put-together as Diana it was a miracle. “...Red?” Her hand hadn’t even drifted over the colour and she looks at her practically perplexed at the suggestion: “I— If it’s just going to sit on my vanity...” But red’s pretty, and bold, and would be a nice change of pace. She shrugs. “Maybe a pink-y red would go better with spring, right?”