poison and wine

"you? demanding?" she tried her best to look offended at the thought on willow's behalf, but broke into giggles before the facade had fully formed. "well... surely we can pause the bed strike long enough for me to get something that's been delivered. the doorstep's basically right there!" and down a narrow hallway, but ingrid never cared much for semantics. echoing the gesture, she used her knee to nudge willow's. "mmm, there might be a secret stash underneath here but... definitely not donuts, and definitely not anything a lady such as myself would pull out in front of decent company!" she teased, though it was ingrid's ears that had turned a faint shade of pink at the admission.

"i have never been considered decent company in my life, so, you know, you're safe," willow reassured ingrid as her own cheeks felt traitorous and hot, their faces becoming a matching pair. "but okay, now i'm intrigued," she continued as the thought of some forbidden treasure dawned on her, brown eyes narrowing with mock suspicion. her curious mind simply won't quit, even for a second. "if you've been hiding contraband under your bed all this time and didn't tell me, i'm going to have to launch a full investigation. badges, flashlights, everything. ou know i have a sixth sense for forbidden objects," she warned with a hushed voice, her eyes trailing up to peer at the other's face.

silence fills his end of the line, lump in his throat too hard to swallow. he'd thought, foolishly, that even if they weren't in a relationship they could go back. to friendship, to how things were before they'd taken the step into something more and he almost wished that they hadn't — not when they couldn't even get through a casual conversation like this. " ... you don't want to be friends ? " needed the clarification of it being spoken for him to be able to gather his thoughts, lick his wounds, and shift cassidy from the space that still occupied his mind and heart to something else. " okay. i won't call or bother you anymore, i understand. "

"no," he answered, plain and simple. he didn't mean it to sound cruel, but apparently, he was out of practice at sounding gentle. "or, i mean—" he exhaled, the sound appearing harsh through the phone's speaker. "i don't know what i want, brendan. maybe that's the whole problem." there was still that voice in his head that always thought they could fix things—make the parts fit if he just tried harder. maybe if he let brendan talk, or if he learned to listen better, or if he remembered to say the right things at the right times. and maybe then he'd finally stop spinning out every conversation until it meant something other than what it was. but then again, maybe he'd just fuck it up, anyway. "i don't even know what being friends means for us. i don't know how to do it without ..." cassidy wanted to say 'missing you', but he stopped himself, leaving the rest unsaid.

amara hates needing a rescue but tonight had been a disaster. an unmitigated, horrific disaster. she looks good, a tiny black dress-- her hair in wild curls. she'd been fully prepared to flirt a little, to play at dating but the sheer bigotry from her date had her half screaming at him over the rim of her negroni."this is why i don't date finance bros. they get real competitive-- and then they get pouty when they lose. i'm never letting anyone set me up again." she pouts against her phone. "he's currently growling at his scotch and we haven't even gotten past the second drink. pick me up before i commit a murder. pretty please?"

cassidy rolled his head back against the futon, phone braced between cheek and shoulder. he could almost imagine amara's date from three neighborhoods away: an overcompensating cloud of creed, rolex too big for his wrist, ego wafting through the room with every word. he had to give the woman some credit, at least she made it to the second drink; last time, she'd texted after appetizers to be rescued from a guy who wouldn't shut up about bitcoin mining. "you want me to bring a shovel, or the trunk's good enough?" he asked, "i can be there in ten with a tarp. mask and gloves if you want the full csi."

he tried to keep balance of the spritzer in his glass and move into a more comfortable position at the same time, the glass winding up set gently onto the floor next to them. " that sounds even more uncomfortable, and more complicated than us just going somewhere and looking at couches. i think there's a sale at that place a couple of miles away, actually. we've got to figure this out so that your knees won't keep being in my back each night. "

dorian's lips split into a smile, not bothering to open his eyes. "why must we destroy the magic of having a bad couch by buying a good couch? don't you think, as a concept, we are the couch?" he argued, bracing himself to the gravitational field of teddy's midsection. "i'm just saying, what if the couch is correct and we are the ones who need fixing."

he bolts forward when it comes into view, his wrist still leashed by holden's iron-clad grapple, and he leads him now to the passenger side, prying it open and then reaching into the glove compartment. "do we —" he huffs, blinking, scrambling, looking at the wound with wild eyes. "do we take it out, and then healing potion, so it doesn't heal around it? or would that kill you? can you die? holy fuck, if i got you killed—" regan grabs a purple tinted vial, holding it up between them. "this is for healing. and i — i think i have some specific ones for organ repair but they're at home?? get in, get in, i'll drive!"

his skin twitched, gooseflesh prickling, every nerve raw as he tried to breathe in slow, shallow sips. the wooden shard — splintered and coated with blood — jutted just below his bottom rib, driven in at a downward angle. he felt every fiber of the wood, each tiny splinter. if he had to yank it out himself, he would, but not here, not until he was sure they weren't being tailed. the heel of his left hand, slick and red, pressed hard to the wound, as if to avoid soaking regan's truck with his blood. "your place. don't speed. don't run lights. if we get pulled over with me looking like this, we have a longer night than we already have," he said, grabbing the vial from the other, then allowing his head to fall back against the rest.

closed for @loveshard