a dependent blog for willowglenhq, as penned by batrick, twenty9, he/him.
001. dallas lyons. twenty7. comedian. 002. miles coyne. twenty8. nhl player.
One Nice Bug Per Day
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oozey mess
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@mar7ini
a dependent blog for willowglenhq, as penned by batrick, twenty9, he/him.
001. dallas lyons. twenty7. comedian. 002. miles coyne. twenty8. nhl player.

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when he moved closer to her, she stayed in her spot as she just looked at him. part of her wanted to be angry still and part of her felt this sense of relief that he wasn’t in a ditch somewhere. but she also felt even more worried that his recent drug use was due to deeper reasons than just having a good time. “fuck, dallas. i could never hate you but you had me worried sick over here. i didn’t know whether you were dead or alive and that ate me up so much. i was waiting for police to show up and tell me you were gone or that i was gonna have to identify your body.” she moved closer to him, her hand finding his and in that moment she felt a sense of relief flood over her body.
“i love you so fucking much and the thought of you leaving me or even worse, dying, felt like i was going to be swallowed whole into the ground. i’ve sat on the same spot in that damn couch waiting to hear something, anything and when i didn’t it felt like someone ripped my heart out. you can’t do this to me again, dallas.” she moved closer to him, her hand finding his face as the tears she hadn’t been able to cry fall down her face. “i am all for you having fun, dallas. but please tell me our marriage is not the reason for the binges. if so, please tell me now and we’ll call this quits because i can’t go through this again. And i can’t watch ki go through that.” she let out a sigh as she let her head fall against his chest. “tell me what i can do.”
green eyes have trouble focusing on his wife, and he can't tell if it's due to him being upset or if he really is still coming down. his index and thumb finger continue twisting the band on his ring finger as he sits and listens to her speak. he knows now isn't the time for arguing or speaking over mackenzie. letting her finish, eyes close as he feels eyelids grow heavy, vision blurring as he feels her hand in his. "'mack . . ." voice trails off as he lets a sigh pass through parted lips. "in that state i was in? i just didn't think you'd want to hear from me. and -- god, i think i just convinced myself you were better off. i mean, we're married and we have ki and i still made the decision to get that fucked up." he clears his throat, attempting to keep the tears at bay.
hearing that mackenzie hadn't moved from the couch makes him feel physically ill, his chest dropping into his stomach. he swallows as the tears fall, hands cupping her cheeks as his thumbs wipe the tears away as they come. "you think i -- fuck, no, no. that is not the reason why i . . . our marriage is the best thing to ever happen to me. you are the best thing to ever happen to me. i guess i just got so used to doing stupid shit that i didn't consider you enough, or ki enough, and that will never, ever happen again." he sighs as he presses his forehead to hers, eyes focused on hers. "i love you with everything i have. you don't have to do anything. i just, i'll get my shit together, i promise."
she can feel her excitement buzzing beneath the surface of her skin as she meets the parents of a brand-new student; that same feeling she used to get bright and early, waiting on exam results before the start of a well-deserved summer break ⸻ only this time, she gets to be the one to grade pages of scribbles with stars and smiley faces. " thank you so much for coming on such short notice ... with summer coming up, it's been a time with all of the planning for last-minute field trip sign-ups, classroom birthday parties ... " she could go on about the number of events she has to keep her class busy, gust of wind from flipping open planner puts her back on track. " that, and i've got a little one of my own over at foxgrove. "
hands smooth over colorful onboarding paper, one she'd spent the previous day decorating on diy-scattered kitchen counter. " we're so excited to have kiara join our class. i think she'll love it here. " gaze lifts to look at parents with an enthusiastic grin, scooting forward toward her desk. " noemi, by the way. not ... miss costanza, " a dismissive wave of her hand, quick to cover up quiet laugh with her fingers. " i feel like it's so formal, so, feel free to be comfortable. "
&. @mar7ini + @delicatefm, willow glen academy @ 1:30pm.
mackenzie really doesn’t understand why she is so nervous to meet kiara’s teacher but she was. with her hand intertwined with dallas’s, she glanced over at him with a small nod. if you would have told her this was how her life was going to turn out five years ago, mackenzie would have called you a liar. she always envisioned when her and dallas had kids they would do all of this stuff together: school visits, parent teacher conferences, award ceremonies, all of it. and now it was a reality as they greeted the teacher. mackenzie smiled softly, her gaze on the woman in front of her. she seemed kind like someone who was meant to do this for a career. “oh no thank you for inviting us here. i know the end of the school year is always the most hectic so no apologies.” at the mention of her own little one, she couldn’t help but smile. “how old is your little one?”
“i feel like one of those helicopter parents that is so nervous for her to start a new school. like i wish i could be here with her the entire time but i know she’ll do fine but I just worry. i want nothing for the best for her, you know? i mean we both do,” she said, her eyes meeting her husbands. “i absolutely love your name. i feel like mine is so boring sometimes like mackenzie is a very common name,” she laughed. when she got nervous, she always rambled. “how long have you been teaching?” ( @mar7ini )
dallas smiles down at his wife, squeezing her hand a time or two for support as he senses her stress. all these years later and he still knows her signs for worry and damn if he won't do everything in his control to soothe her. it isn't that he's without his own worries and concerns; he's brand new at this, didn't have the last five years to learn and grow as a parent alongside mackenzie, but he's willing. "yeah, no, thank you. i'm pretty new at the whole parenting gig, but, um, it's nice to know she'll be in good hands." he isn't ready to go into his whole life story just yet, but can already feel a sense of trust between the three of them.
he laughs at the name exchange, knowing he's named after a damn city in a blistering hot state. "try being named after a city close by. 'dallas, have you ever even been to dallas?' man, kids were ruthless." he jokes, straightens slightly realizing he's in the presence of his daughter's teacher. even though he's twenty seven, teachers still give him a sense of fight or flight. "are . . . kids still that way? i mean, is there anything to worry about?"
"I love that for you, Lyons, truly. Your energy has shifted in the best of ways, you know?" It was cool to see his friend enter this new season of their lives. They were all evolving as it happened in life, some better than others. "Today's a better day. It comes and goes in waves." Grieving his former life and trying to figure out what would be next for him was something he was constantly battling with. "I'll get there, though…talking about someone to rebuild another team, so we'll see where that goes. What's new with you?"
"my energy? you sayin' i had bad energy before?" he jokes, knowing exactly what his best friend meant by the compliment. dallas nods his head as he swallows, wanting only the best for grayson and true happiness in all aspects of his life. "yeah, waves are hard sometimes, man. if you ever need someone to battle 'em out with, you know i'm just a call away." smiling over at his friend, he huffs out as the incline on the trail heightens. "yeah? i'll be crossing my fingers for you. that sounds . . . really good for you." he shrugs his shoulders as he ponders the question. "married life, dad life, is definitely different. it's harder than i expected, but, um, it's all worth it. i love mack and ki and having a family is, just, one of the best parts of me now."
⌗ 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 , craft loft .
" excuse me , " there's a softness in her voice that makes it obvious she's usually not one to ask this , but tips of her toes had gotten tired of holding her weight , letting out a disgruntled huff as the can of paint on the top shelf taunts her from above . " i'm so sorry to ask this but do you think you could grab that for me ? there's usually a step - ladder somewhere nearby but someone else must be using it . . . maybe i should just start bringing my own , " she teases , reaching up again like taking a few steps away would've made it at all easier to grab .
𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴
brows raise, a smile painting his features as miles averts his gaze from a text on his phone over to the other. he follows her eyes to the top shelf, a chuckle escaping his lips inadvertently as he watches her take another crack at reaching up. "a portable step ladder might not be a bad idea." he teases, pointing to the can of paint on the top shelf to clarify the right one. "i don't know why they make shelves this high, anyway." he replies, grabbing the can of paint seamlessly, barely bending his arm. "it's, like, companies stopped caring about their average consumer or something. and also stopped giving a fuck entirely about people who wouldn't even be able to use a step ladder." he shrugs his shoulders, waves a hand. "sorry, i just get kinda passionate when it comes to accessibility."

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★ ˖ ⊹ 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟. costco. ↳ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 … @mar7ini
𝞋𝞎 ˖ ⊹ bonnie definitely played favorites and currently , miles sat comfortably at the top of the list. he was sweet , agreeable so — sweet ones earned costco privileges. she pushed the oversized cart down the warehouse aisle with a look of mounting concern , her hermès birkin perched in the baby seat like it deserved its own seatbelt. the sharp click of her heels echoed against the concrete while she surveyed the contents of the cart in horror.
“ miles , ” bonnie groaned dramatically , stopping dead beside a pallet of bulk chips. “ we cannot survive exclusively on pizza rolls , beer , and whatever this is. ” she picked up a suspicious frozen appetizer box between two manicured fingers. “ buffalo chicken mac and cheese bites ? this is something you eat right before a medical emergency. ” she looked back into the cart again , scandalized.
“ there is not a single vegetable in here. ” bonnie pointed accusingly at the cases of alcohol stacked underneath. “ not even a decorative one. like where’s the spinach ? a carrot ? one lonely cucumber for morale ? ” despite the complaining , she still tossed another box of snacks into the cart. “ and before you say anything , ” she added quickly , already defensive , “ i know frozen mozzarella sticks aren’t technically groceries. but they are essential … for my emotional wellbeing. ”
miles's running appetite always felt grateful for these costco trips with bonnie, grabbing anything that might sound good after a game . . . or before, if he really feels like having a rough time. his hands stuff themselves into the pockets of a navy blue hooded nike sweatshirt after throwing in a box of frozen snack bites, shoulders shrugging as he looks around suspiciously. "bonnie, that wasn't me, i swear. i think it might have been . . ." he leans in close, left hand vertical against his lips. ". . . a ghost." he gasps, hands covering both sides of his cheeks as he laughs. "oh, c'mon. they can't be that bad for you. but, just to be on the safe side, better not look at the nutritional value of these bad boys too long. it might send you into a medical emergency."
brows furrow at the accusation, head shakes quickly as he picks up a case of beer with his dominant hand. "beer contains hops, which, i'm pretty sure is, like, a plant or something. plus, we've only passed the produce section twice. i was gonna grab all of those things on the third pass." mouth opens as he watches the other throw frozen snacks into the cart, a witty comment at the ready. "for your emotional wellbeing." he repeats, grabbing a box of frozen mini tacos and tossing it in the cart. "and another for mine."
it wasn’t the fact that he had gone somewhere with god knows who but it was the fact that there was no communication. and for two days, she didn’t know if he was dead or alive. part of her wondered if he thought the same thing when she vanished without a trace. if his heart ached the same way hers did this weekend. this was her karma for leaving him all those years ago. she doesn’t know if she has any right to be angry but then she thinks about their daughter and the worry that not only she experienced but ki as well. when she left dallas, he was the only one that had to worry about her leaving but this was different. their daughter didn’t deserve to have to worry and for that she was angry.
he moved closer to her and she just watched him. part of him wanted to hug him and the other part wanted to slap him. “there were no payphones? no stores you could have gone into to use their phone? come on dallas.” she shook her head, her gaze moving to the floor as she watched him move to the spot next to her. when he sat down, she moved as far away from him on the couch as she could as she grabbed the pillow, hugging it to her chest. “you’re sorry? that’s all you’re going to say? you fucked up and that’s all you’re going to say to me?”
she couldn’t stay seated anymore so she found herself walking into the kitchen. the more the seconds passed, the more the anger and sadness and frustration hit her like a ton of bricks. “how fucked up were you? how much drugs and alcohol did you have that caused this?” she yelled, her hands grabbing whatever was on the kitchen counter and throwing in the direction of the couch, missing him but thudding on the floor. one thing right after the other until she didn’t have anything left to grab. “are you fucked up right now?”
dallas swallows, jaw clenches slightly as he listens to her speak. "i don't know, mack! i wasn't thinking!" voice cracks as he speaks, watches as she moves further away from him. there's a pit forming in his stomach and he suddenly feels like he needs some air, but he stays still on the couch. "i'm sorry." he repeats, voice quiet, barely above a whisper as he twists gold band on his ring finger. "i don't know what you want me to say."
a sigh escapes his lips as she walks away, eyes trailing behind her as she stands at the kitchen counter. before he can answer her questions, he sees a set of keys thrown in his direction, dropping on the floor before him. he lets her get her frustration out on the kitchen counter's contents before standing. "want the truth?" he questions, voice raising only slightly. "i was so fucked up i didn't even feel like myself. and now? fuck, i probably am still. i don't know." he shakes his head as he takes a step closer toward his wife. "please don't fucking hate me, mack. please, i couldn't live with myself if you hated me."
⋆ ⭒˚。 [ belmont cameli, cis man, he/him. ] was that MILES COYNE i just saw over at THE HIDEAWAY ? you know, the TWENTY EIGHT year old NHL PLAYER that’s been around willow glen for FOURTEEN YEARS. people around town say they can somehow both be SUPERCILIOUS and RESILIENT, but if you were to ask them, they’d probably say they’re more like A LIGHT BEER AFTER A HEAVY GAME, PUSHING BOUNDARIES AND BREAKING DOWN BARRIERS, FINDING AN OUTLET IN THE SPORT YOU LOVE THE MOST. the town sure has been rumbling about them lately, apparently they LOST FRIENDS GROWING UP BECAUSE THEIR FATHER RUINED MARRIAGES . . . but who knows if that’s true, i guess i’ll just have to stop by MAGNOLIA RIDGE and find out ! [ batrick, twenty9, he/him, est + none. ]
" of course ! just 'cause i'm not planning on marriage doesn't mean you shouldn't , " even if it meant that one more friend has been lost to domesticity . he's sort of fronting , selfishly almost wishing that this life change hadn't happened so nothing about their friendship would have to change . he realizes he's touched a nerve with his DUMB spaghetti comment -- realizes that maybe that's what some people find enjoyable . " oh , hey , nothing's wrong with that , " he scrambles ( although he can think of a million things he'd rather do ) , " just -- i don't know , isn't that kind of . . . boring ? " he's listening to the explanation of the living situation , working overtime to stifle any facial responses . it sounds complicated , to say the least . he can tell it's a touchy subject , a situation which held some sort of underlying animosity , which he'd like very much to stay out of . " damn , that's tough . what about kiara , though ? is she , like , confused why mom n' dad live in different houses ? "
brows furrow as dallas folds his hands in his lap. the idea of marriage, commitment, used to scare the hell out of him, enough to end his relationship with raven. "i wasn't planning on getting married. just, y'know, sort of happened." he shrugs his shoulders, hands releasing from each other and spreading apart. "don't know if i ever told you this, but that's the reason i ended things with raven. just . . . couldn't commit to forever." suddenly feeling his mouth dry, he lifts a finger and circles the air, insinuating another round. he tilts his head side to side, contemplating the question. "wouldn't call it boring, but it's different for sure. not something i've been used to in a while." smiling as the bartender sets down the glass, he winces before even taking the shot. "i mean . . ." voice trails off as he shoves a lime between his teeth. "i'm sure she is, but we've talked to her about it being a for now situation. we'll figure it out, always do."
some women have a talent for being seen. others for being heard. portia excels at both. firstly, there's the famously fiery red hair and perfectly coordinated clothes. then there's the sound of her heels and her voice, refined but cold. “ are you all right? ” she questions with calm composure, the sharp clicks of her heels against the stone pavement growing louder, a touch more decisive with each new step. there's still dirt on her knees from kneeling just moments prior to this — she's been gardening. obviously. “ why were you driving so fast in the first place ? you do realize that kids live in this neighborhood, right? ”
he doesn't expect the question, isn't even sure his first reaction would be to ask about his physical state, though nods his head regardless. "yes. i'm fine, ma'am." dallas clears his throat as he considers her follow up, gaze averting from the mailbox to the red haired woman standing before him. "i know. i, um . . . have a daughter that lives here. with my wife and i. was trying to get home and must've just lost control." hands rub together quickly, inspecting the mailbox quickly before pulling his wallet from his back pocket. "so, how much do i owe ya? for the damage."

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closed starter: dallas lyons ( @mar7ini )
where: his ( but really their ) home
two days. forty eight hours.
that’s how long it had been since mackenzie had heard from dallas and also the amount of time she hadn’t slept. at first, she thought he was busy so she didn’t fret. when she texted him that first night asking when he was coming home and she didn’t get an answer, she still didn’t panic. then she called, left voicemails, called again and nothing. it wasn’t until she called and it went straight to voicemail that she felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. ki asking where he was and her having to make up some kind of lie also caused the pit in her stomach to worsen. maybe he was working and didn’t have a charger. she called all his friends or at least the ones that she had their numbers but nobody heard from him.
she stayed on the couch, waiting to hear the lock of the door and to see dallas but that didn’t happen. night turned into day and still nothing. no phone calls, no texts, no communication. it was that morning she realized that he had left them. he did what she had done to him five years prior. was this how he felt when she never returned his calls or communicated with him? is this the karma that she deserved for the way that she left him those years prior. she sent ki to a friends house because she couldn’t bare to have her daughter see her in the state that she was in. that night was the worst, glasses shattered on the white carpet, never ending tears falling down her face as she continued to call and text his phone and anyone she could contact with no results.
the next morning, mackenzie sat in his t-shirt as she had a million thoughts running through her head. was he dead? did something happen to him? should she call the police and file a missing persons report? what was she going to tell her daughter? her knees were tucked against her chest as she found herself lost in so many thoughts that she almost missed the lock of the front door unlocking. her heart stopped when she saw dallas walking in and she couldn’t tell if she was relieved or more angry.
“i hate you.”
dallas flew back in last night, and despite the contents of the last couple days still sitting in his system, he was sound enough to know not to go home. he doesn't know what awaits him when he walks through the door, if he'll even have anyone waiting for him there. it wasn't intentional to leave for so long, had only planned to fly to los angeles for a few hours and then pop right back, but everything seemed to go wrong in that forty eight hour span. his phone was stolen a few hours into the worst high of his life, his cards and cash were taken from his wallet, and by the time he was able to get ahold of a phone, he wasn't in the right space to dial mackenzie's number. by then, it had been almost two days since he left and he wasn't sure she'd even want to hear from him.
walking out of a hotel room with no bags causes a few curious glances from other guests, but he's not in the least worried. the only thing he's thinking about is seeing mackenzie again, hoping she's still home, hoping their daughter isn't there. the ride home makes him a little nauseous, has to ride with the windows down to keep it all at bay. when the driver pulls up to their house, his stomach drops seeing her car in the driveway. he can imagine how anxious and worried his wife's been, had been in much the same situation over five years ago.
it takes a few minutes before he unlocks the front door and walks inside, his eyes instantly turning to broken glass on the carpet beside him. "shit." he whispers, walking carefully around it to get to the living room. seeing her in his t shirt makes his stomach flip, and he swallows as he walks closer, hearing those three words leave her lips. "i deserve that." he responds, unsure if he should move closer, but deciding against it. "i didn't mean to be gone so long. i lost my phone, had no money, and was . . ." voice trails off as he runs a hand over his face. "i just made some shitty fuckin' choices the last couple days." he breaths out, walking closer to his wife and sitting beside her. "i'm so, so sorry."
WHO: Dallas Lyons (@mar7ini) WHERE: Cedar Elm Nature Reserve
He was happy to get out and breathe some fresh air. There was an impending opportunity that could bring him back into alignment with a sense of purpose again, something he's been longing for since crossing the township line back into Willow Glen. While his life took a detour, he was happy to witness his best friend since diapers carve their own path of success. Married with a family and still hadn't lost themselves in these new titles and responsibilities. Was it odd that he aspired to now, seeing it in real time with Dallas? "Still no regrets on marrying Kenz? You know she can chop your balls off in the middle of the night like Lorena Bobbitt."
as selfish as it sounds, dallas feels lucky to have grayson back in willow glen, especially when the other drags him out into nature. he could spend an entire day indoors if given the opportunity. "still no regrets, g. plus, i trust her with everything i have, including my balls." he laughs, nudging the other slightly as they walk. "how've, uh, you been doing?"
brows knit slightly, happier than me, she thought—but never said out loud. it would be selfish of her to say that. raven nods slowly. "yeah… it's different now." she tries to put herself in his shoes: what would she do if an ex came back, bringing along a child who belongs to them? her mind's all over the place and she doesn't know if she can even think. she opens her mouth to speak, but she isn't sure what she should say. the question makes her freeze for a moment before she lets out a deep sigh and nods. raven brings the pancakes over and sets them on the table, lips pressing into a thin line as she takes a seat opposite the other. the last memory she had of the two of them sitting just like this was different—they were so happy and so in love, all smiles and laughter, as if nobody else mattered. raven clears her throat, "i don't work on tuesdays, fridays and sundays." she tells dallas, "...in case you wanted to come here with your family."
there's nothing more in this moment that dallas wants than to pull raven into him, apologize over and over and over and then some more until his voice is strained. who would that be helping, would that only help himself feel better, less guilty? a faint smile appears on his lips as she sits across from him, memories playing back like an old movie you can't revisit. "thank you." it's said just above a whisper, head nodding once as if to really mean it. "my daughter really likes the pancakes here. she's incredible. really smart and funny and kind." he wants desperately to say that raven would love her, but that would only hurt everyone more than he already has. he sits in the shared silence a few moments, fork cutting into lemon blueberry pancakes. god, they remind him so much of the pancakes she used to make him in the mornings. "i don't want it to be like this. between us." he isn't sure what he's saying, really, or how to achieve anything but this brokenness between them, just knows that he wants it to be over.
brooks still can't tell if he's joking , but decides its not worth the effort trying to convince dallas that if mackenzie can be taken out by one olive pit , she's got BIGGER problems . " just . . . a congratulations drink . i haven't seen you in a minute and congrats are in order ! " it's simply straight tequila , a heavy pour as the bartender knows brooks will tip well , complete with a slice of lime . he clinks his glass against dallas' , downs the liquid quickly ( and concerningly easily ) and leaves the lime unused on the table . " vortex is fine , but what about a wednesday night ? what're you supposed to do , make spaghetti ? " as if domestic life , a calm dinner at home with one's family , were abhorrent . he's about to offer to charter them a plane to new york but is quickly shot down . he slaps his hands in faux frustration at dallas' refusal , " oh my god , you're no fun . . . wait , d'you guys not LIVE together ? what d'you mean , breakfast date ? "
dallas nods his head once, both exhilarated and skeptical of the drink set before him, trusts brooks enough to be more the former. "my oh my, are you, mr. copeland, actually congratulating me on getting married?" joking around with brooks is one of his favorite activities, especially when he can attempt to get under his skin even just slightly. lifting his glass, he watches as his friend unwaveringly takes the shot, following him shortly after with a wince and a lime between his teeth. this was going to be quite the night. "and what's wrong with spaghetti on a wednesday night?" the question comes out a bit harsher than he means it to, but he can't help but feel as if the other was taking a dig at dallas. at his friend's question, dallas finds himself twisting his gold wedding band out of habit, touchy subject and all. "we're still living separately until we decide where to live. mack's all attached to the house she's been living in since she got back and, yeah, i just can't see myself giving up mine. been there pretty much my whole life, you know? feels kinda fucked giving it up."
she let out her own frustrated sigh as she ran her fingers through her hair. god he was so stubborn and while she loved it, she also hated it. “just leave, dallas. you don’t want to be here and frankly, i don’t want to fight with you anymore.” she stands now, pacing back and forth in front of the couch. “i understand where you are coming from, i do. i wish you could also understand where i am coming from. i never said that we wouldn’t eventually move but I feel like i’m not given much of a choice in whether or not in the end it would be best to move.” after a minute, she headed to the kitchen, emotions getting the best of her and she just needed to breathe. she didn’t know how long she had been in there before she comes out and throws her hands in the air. “fine. we will try it out but i cannot guarantee that i am going to feel at home but you’re right, we should at least give it a go. tomorrow we will move some of our things in okay?”
fight, they were officially in a fight. it isn't their first as a married couple and won't be their last, dallas is a realist and a cynic at his core and knows that much. he watches as his wife paces in the living room, wanting desperately to reach out and pull her into him, but finds himself standing still. before a response can leave his lips, mackenzie is out of the room, leaving him standing in the living room with his hands on his head. "god." he huffs, hands coming down as he begins a step toward the kitchen, stopped in his tracks at her voice. "if you hate it there, we'll figure something else out. i promise." he smiles, walking closer to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, eyes looking down at her. "as much as i love my house, i love you more."

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she's lucky that there aren't a lot of people this morning. raven remains rooted to the ground, but the shitty part of it all is that she almost lets dallas take her hands. almost. she tucks her hand in the pocket of her apron, eyes glossy as dallas speaks. sadness is evident in her eyes as she looks away, averting her gaze to the floor. she wants to understand, she really does—but at the back of her mind, her thoughts aren't being too kind.
he was never over her. he never loved you enough, that's why he married her as soon as she came back. you were never enough for him.
a soft laugh escapes her lips but it doesn't reach her eyes. she feels pathetic — dallas has moved on with his life and there she stands. she's never felt so alone. raven offers him a small smile as she rubs at her eyes, "well, you've said it. now we don't have to talk about it no more." she shifts her weight on her heels, her voice small. "i hope you're happier with your family." the sound of the bell brings her attention back to the food and she notices a stack of lemon blueberry pancakes—the chef must've made them after seeing dallas. she takes in another breath, "i guess we have your favourite now, you can sit and enjoy it before you go. i'll keep your order warm."
dallas sighs, swallowing a lump in his throat he hadn't realized was there until he saw her eyes. it's enough to make tears well in his own, rubs green eyes softly with the back of his hand. he'd spent countless hours here when they were together, coming in during slow times and rushes just to see raven. at her laugh, his eyes flash back to her face, but it isn't the laugh he recognizes, the laugh she'd make when he'd tell one of his jokes or when they'd just be up at late hours of the night all sleep deprived. "happier? that's not fair." response comes out with a trace of guilt and sadness. "i'm not happier, rave. it's just . . ." searches for the word a moment before sighing. "different now, you know? i didn't plan for any of this to happen, okay? i know you wanted all of this from me, i know that. i didn't -- i wasn't -- i couldn't know this would happen. you have to know that." hearing the bell, he averts his gaze to his usual before looking back at raven. "it's not so busy today. can you, um, can you sit with me?"
" dude . . . " he's unsure if dallas is joking , pretending he doesn't know what would be sexy about a woman drinking a classic cocktail and making eyes at him across the table . " imagine mackenzie drinking it . . . " he offers , not picturing the image himself , but thinking that it might illucidate the sexiness of the beverage for dallas . he was impressed that dallas had ponied up for MARRIAGE ⸺ brooks could think of a thousand things that were higher on his priority list , like pressure - washing the public sidewalk . he watches , however , as his buddy taps his nose , a wicked grin splitting across his lips as he claps dallas on the shoulder . " hey , that's what i'm talking about , " he agrees , and luckily he's come prepared for the evening . his eyes glance around the room as if to scope out anyone who might be . . . offended , to say the least . he catches the eye of a server who's bringing their drinks over , and brooks offers her a charming smile and a mumbled thank you , his eyes watching her leave . " i wish there was a good fuckin' CLUB here . i miss that about new york ⸺ you can party all night if you want to , then continue into the daytime . here , it's different . "
it isn't hard picturing mackenzie in this rather alluring scenario brooks has created for him, head tilting to the side a few times as if understanding. "guess i see it now, but does it have to be a martini? what if she chokes on an olive? i'd become, like, a man-widow." a laugh escapes him, his stomach rising slightly with each chuckle. moments spent around brooks always made for a good time, and even better memories, though he's not entirely sure how mackenzie is going to react to their antics tonight. it's not like he's ever had to answer to a wife before. hands rub together playfully as the bartender drops off the drinks. "ah, and what has mr. investment banker ordered for the table tonight?" he teases, lifting his drink to his nose in an act of inspection. "vortex isn't that bad, b. it's just a weekends only kinda thing. but, yeah, i know what you mean. i'd sell my kidney be in new york right now with you." holds up his index finger as if to pause any plans brooks might be ready to make. "and before you get any ideas, i am not taking a flight to new york tonight. mack would probably kill me for missing our breakfast date tomorrow."