learning

-marcellus marc hart.

age: 33. birthday: january 4th, 1989 pronouns: he/him birthplace: new orleans, LA. occupation: english teacher - lockwood elementary best traits: accepting, gregarious, joyful. worst traits: distrusting, suspicious, low self-esteem sexuality: doesn’t wish to label. 

-more.

-

“Now, Marcellus,” Bowie gives him what would be a scathing look if it wasn’t for the insuppressible smile trying to break through. “Don’t come in my home and play with me. When have you ever known me to need a damn co-captain,” She gives into her amusement, laughing with a giddiness she hasn’t felt in a long, long time. “And if I remember correctly, your ass was doing more chewing and tasting than stirring and chopping,” Bowie teases further, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. If she could do it all over again, she would pick the familiar scene of Marcellus picking around her pots a million times over, the air laced with a love so palpable, it used to hang over the kitchen like a cloud. “Baby, you know I had to bring some of home up here with me. I couldn’t have survived in these mountains with these folks without it,” She sets the wooden spoon down next to the stove, opting to lean back against the counter facing Marcellus. Besides River and Fox keeping her sane, she lived for the care packages that her momma would send when she first arrived. “Believe it or not, Fox and River actually found this place, but it’s perfect, isn’t it?” Bowie says with a proud smile. Yes, moving to Colorado was a big adjustment at first, but she really couldn’t love her life more. The apartment is beautifully their own, hers, Fox’s and River’s, and it’s set above their baby, The Broom Closet, which was a beautiful manifestation of their passions, their hopes, and their dreams. Not to mention, she’s managed to find a family here too, who helps alleviate that home sickness that doesn’t come around as often anymore. But best of all, this is the place where her paths crossed with Marc again. So while New Orleans is great and will always hold a very special place in her heart, maybe Lockwood Springs is where she was destined to be. This, whatever this is, she refuses to believe it’s some mere coincidence. The universe doesn’t work that way. “They had it for about a year before I got here. Having a place above the shop might’ve been the draw, and I mean, it’s definitely a plus. I love it. Plus, it’s in the heart of downtown, which probably turned some people off but not me. I’m a city girl, baby, you know I don’t mind the noise,” Bowie smiles. “The apartment, you like it?” She asks, a bit of hopefulness in her voice. She knows she definitely likes having him in it.

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                                   The laugh that came from him was a mixture of cheekiness, glee but most of all it was comfortable, as if he had always stepped foot in that same kitchen. “You know what I’ve always said,” he played along with her, matching the grin that had become permanent on his face now. “Behind every great woman is an okay man, who lets her do everything and takes a lil somethin’ of the credit.” Marcellus teased, his eyes watching over Bowie’s features as if he hadn’t memorized every single detail of them. The way her eyes could light up her whole face, and a smile that was as beautiful as it was lethal. Because just one shot of that smile always sent Marcellus into a thoughtless grin. He was doing it right now, clearing his throat once he caught himself and resuming a casual lean against the other side of the counter. “It feels like home, that’s for sure. Then again, you’ve always had that as a gift. Could make a cardboard box comfortable and welcoming.” he drawled with a deep laugh, voice thick with the nostalgia running through his mind, not just from the decorations and the aura of the apartment, but memories that were calling out to him. He wanted to drape his arms around her, sway to music while they waited on the food, lift her to sit on the counter so his hands could praise her thighs with a gentle hold as he covered her jaw with light kisses. Nostalgia for the happier years that he let go, despite the friction burns scarring his palms from his reluctance. 

“I’m glad you’re here all together, I woulda been sad to hear you all got split up like Seattle.” he then nodded, looking to Bowie with a supportive smile. He remembered that time, the video calls that he could hear and sometimes would join in on. The cute check ins they all did with one another, or random calls just because. There was so much love between them all that it was right there in that apartment, as real as the paint on the walls and throws across the couch. “Even saying Bowie LeBlanc has settled down in a rural house sounds wong.” he laughed, knowing that where there was a beating heart of life, Bowie would be. River and Fox didn’t seem like country dwellers either. “I love it, I love being here. I can’t thank you enough for inviting me, I know it’s...” Marcellus caught his words running straight into a seriousness. It was why they were there, after all. His dark eyes swept over her face again, a sadder smile. “I don’t really deserve the hospitality but I’ve missed it. I’ve missed you.”

Status: closed @marcellushart​

Location: House of Abundance (aka Bowie, River, and Fox’s apartment) 

The scene plays out exactly like it might have five years ago. Bowie stands barefoot in front of the stove, one foot resting atop the other, keeping herself effortlessly balanced as she tends to the last pot of gumbo for the season simmering before her – smoked sausage, andouille sausage, shrimp, chicken, crab, seasoning and all stewing to perfection. Wooden spoon in hand, she stirs. She stirs, and stirs, and stirs. A mindless motion while her thoughts carry her elsewhere. There’s no harm in it, is there? Cooking dinner for her friends is a beloved hobby, and after all, Marcellus is her friend. Inviting friends over for a bite to eat, however, doesn’t typically extend itself into spending the first half of the day cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. It sure as hell doesn’t usually mean kicking Fox and River out, but she can’t stress enough that just this once, their presence isn’t welcomed in the home they’ve created together. Not for the next few hours. She needs this time alone with her ex without disturbance – to talk, of course. Marcellus and Bowie, they do need to talk about it all, about everything. But she’s pulled from her thoughts when she feels his warm presence first before hearing his steps creak across the floor. A smile grows on her face as he draws nearer until he’s looming over her at the stove. Laughing, Bowie gently pushes Marc away. “Boy, if you don’t get from by this pot. You know better than that. Move,” She teases as she faces him, one hand on her hip, the other balancing the spoon on the edge of the pot. This, it feels different from their other encounters since reconnecting, but in the best, most natural way imaginable. Running into him out in public is one thing, but this is its own thing entirely. He’s a stranger in this home, but he fits right in like he’s been here all along. Like he’s meant to be here.

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                                   The invitation to talk had a power to lift a weight all by itself, before any talking happened. Marcellus had convinced himself that Bowie, rightfully so, would never want to see or hear from him again. The universe seemed to disagree with them being on separate paths and Marcellus wondered if that was also why life never went right for him after he left. Grateful for Bowie’s graceful extension, he treated her home with the politeness that would be expected. He took in every sight and smell, knowing instinctively what influence came from her creative mind or her friend’s. Still after all that time, he knew her and she knew him. The unfamiliarity of the space melted into the familiar smell of her soul food cooking, transporting Marc’s mind and heart back to their sweeter years. Just like that, he was no longer a stranger and the walls around them felt like home. It wouldn’t be home if he wasn’t caught by the pot either, a cheeky and bright smile lifting his face as he still carried his finger to his lips. “I’m just checkin’, alright? Like a co-captain.” he teased back but backed off respectfully while he laughed. “All this is beautiful. Feels like New Orleans.” he then said, looking around the kitchen even right down to the lists and memories stuck to the fridge by magnets. Marc was impressed how they all managed to capture the warmth that NOLA had, despite being so far away but he guessed they just carried that energy with them without even trying. Bowie was a beating heart wherever she went and he smiled as he watched her, his mind knowing that she could make a cardboard box feel like home. “You gotta tell me the story how you found this place. I got a feeling it’s a good one.”

-

“I don’t think we’re going nowhere no time soon, so I got plenty time to hear this list of yours,” Bowie teases, folding her arms across her chest as she leans against the gently glowing vending machine. It’s startlingly natural to fall back into line, as if the time they’d spent apart was a measly five minutes instead of five years. In retrospect, she’d like to believe she’s a different woman from the one Marcellus knew, and in many ways, she is. She’s older, wiser with a little more life experience under her belt. But now that the shock has worn off of him waltzing back into her life without warning, she can feel herself, if only for this moment, reverting back into a girl who was once giddily in love. It only makes sense. He was her heart, and her heart has finally come back home. But again, she’s older, and she’s acquired a wisdom that he left her no choice but to obtain when he left. She doesn’t know what Marcellus being around means for them, but she’s more careful now. Jumping right back into his arms and letting bygones be bygones isn’t an option, for her own protection. She needs to know that he’s grown too in the time they spent apart before she lets him back in entirely, whether if that’s as the love of her life or as a friend. 

Still, for the moment, it’s nice to pretend a much larger conversation isn’t looming over their heads. Right now, it’s nice to linger on a make believe that’s void of everything that had gone wrong. “Oh, so you just speaking from the heart, huh?” Bowie asks playfully, smiling up at him and visibly flattered before breaking into a gloriously genuine laugh. “Oh no, baby, don’t do me like that,” She chuckles still, but there’s no embarrassment in it. Cornier or not, the things she said back then definitely came from the heart, and having been in love, she didn’t care how silly or foolish she might’ve sounded. “Crazy how the universe works,” Bowie sighs into a sadder, softer smile, her hands moving naturally to rest on her hips. When she showed up on her momma’s doorstep crying after Marcellus ended things, the woman left her daughter with simple advice. What’s meant for you will never leave you, because it will always find a way back. Those words came back to her when she saw him again that day outside of the elementary school, and ever since, she’s been trying not to get swept up by a current of joy and relief. “Me too,” Bowie says truthfully, nodding. “Just don’t make me say goodbye again, and we should be good.” It’s meant to read like a joke, something they can both laugh at now years later, but it doesn’t quite land. She knows it. 

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                                    “Fast breathers.” Marcellus replied almost immediately as he laughed, like it had been weighing on his mind. “You know me, I start tryin’ to breathe at the same speed and I don’t know how these people ever relax if they’re breathing like they’re running a marathon.” Marc flashed a teasing grin to her but it was obvious from the low gleam behind his eyes that his mind was elsewhere. He was focused on when Bowie cradled against his chest and his own breaths would fall into perfect synchronicity with her own. Two halves of the same heart beating in time too, lulling him to sleep with their rhythm. Confidence was an easy thing to feel in her presence and Marcellus leaned his arm on the machine, slightly above Bowie’s head. The apology was on the tip of his tongue and he was convinced he was about to break through his own creation of ice but instead, he took a small breath and reconsidered. She’d probably never forgive him, Bowie seemed to be thriving in a light all of her own. His concerns were confirmed, she was better off without him. “Feels weird to be sharing a sleeping space with people you don’t know, right? Is there a spiritual explanation for that?” he asked with no mocking anywhere in his tone. He had always loved the way Bowie taught him things, made him feel more connected to the world around him. She was grounding to his typically airborne thoughts, but she was freeing at the same exact time.

It was beautiful to hear her laughter again but that was the thing about Bowie LeBlanc’s laugh. You didn’t just hear it, you felt it. Every note of it made Marcellus’ grin grow wider, laughing with her lowly. “Always from the heart, only way to be.” he confirmed with a nod, eyes fixing to her smile. The temptation to cup her face and guide a gentle kiss into motion was overwhelming, it felt as if it was the most natural thing to occur, but as Bowie mentioned the universe’s mysteries, Marcellus nodded. He assumed it to be a small deceleration of her surprise, maybe she had convinced herself she’d never need to speak to her again. Or never wanted to. “I hope it’s for a reason.” he shrugged, looking away from her after realizing his eyes must have been burning against her features. He only glanced back when he heard the word goodbye, the word he clearly had an affinity to using. He didn’t want to use it again though, not to Bowie. Was this a chance to talk about it? An opening that she graciously revealed so the topic no longer had to exist like a secret. “I- didn’t really want to th-” first time. Marcellus’ words were cut off with a gunshot, distant but still loud. Without thinking, one of his hands fell to Bowie’s as he gently pulled her from the machine and his arm wrapped around her. “That sounds like none of our business.” he commented, leading himself away with Bowie quickly. “Fast breathers, I’m telling you. Never trusted them.” he said, not letting go of her as he acted like her own security escort. 

-

Finding sleep in a place like this doesn’t seem very likely. Besides being worried sick about River, there are too many bodies in one space trying to create a temporary home in the safety of a high school gym. She may not show it, she may smile and laugh and sweet talk her way through the evening, but this current circumstance bothers her. Bowie is strategic about the company she keeps, deliberate in the energy she surrounds herself in. There’s no control of that here, and once everyone has settled and quiet blankets the room, she finds herself simply wanting to go home. She’ll even settle for some place that feels like home, but this is the card she’s been dealt along with everyone here. But the one thing she can’t shake, the one thing she knows better than to do is disregard the sinking feeling in her spirit. No clue what it is, no clue why, but she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. As if she’s a sitting duck, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Stretching a little, Bowie looks over her options, her eyes bouncing around the different choices from a variety of chips to candy and mass produced pastries. Footsteps capture her attention, and so she looks up, an easy, natural, defenseless smile creeping across her face at the sight of Marcellus. “What’s your excuse? Mine’s the temperature not quite right,” She says jokingly, turning away from the vending machine to face him. Not that she’s ever held any real animosity towards him, she was just a girl going through the experience of her first real broken heart, but all of that melts away standing there in all the glory that is him. She forgets what it’s like to cry, to hurt, to wonder if she’ll love anyone again the way she loved him. The comfort that invades her, the singing in her soul, it’ll always be that way, so what’s the point in fighting it? Why not give in? Once upon a time, he was the sunshine of her life, and though things aren’t what they once were, Bowie’s just happy to have him back in her orbit, to feel his radiating warmth yet again. She laughs in that same vein, warmly at his compliment that goes straight to her heart.  “Baby, a lil corny ain’t never hurt nobody, especially if it works,” Bowie teases. “In fact, I’ll do you one better. You being here don’t feel real to me at all. Like I’m just waiting to wake up any second now,” And then you’ll be gone again. “How’s that for corny?”

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                                   It didn’t matter if Marcellus saw that exact smile a thousand times, it would never be enough. There was a longing to see it, even as he was miles away it would be the image he tried to fall asleep conjuring. He wondered if Bowie could feel him from the distance, laying there alone and staring at the blank ceiling and begging with his imagination. Don’t let me forget that smile. “How long you got? because there’s a list.”  Knowing you’re in the same place but I can’t reach out and feel you. Knowing that if there was ever a time for an apology, it’s now. Still, there was a comforting feeling floating between them now. Much better than the shock that was palpable when they met unexpectedly. It was as if they both had time to digest the new truth, that they were going to see a lot more of one another. 

Marcellus had settled for the ghost of Bowie a long time ago, searching for an irreplaceable aura everywhere he went. So now, just existing close by was better than he imagined. Her laughter brightened his own smile, and his deep chuckle sounded out to her words. “I’m not trying to get anything to work, just speaking my truth.” he said happily. And no, Bowie’s reveal didn’t make Marcellus’ smile fade because of sadness. It faded because she always had the perfect words, and it stunned him to realize that after all this time, their feelings were still in sync. “Eh, I’ve heard you be cornier.” he teased with a soft grin. “But I know what you mean. I convinced myself we’d probably never talk again.” he admitted, because it didn’t feel much of a secret. He was sure Bowie had those intentions. “I’m glad we are, by the way. If that much isn’t obvious.”

.

“Oh yeah, I keep joking around and calling it the Twilight Zone with how everyone keeps showing up in this little town.” They laughed easily because it was true, there was something magical and terrifying about Lockwood Springs. There were just too many things that happened for it to be a coincidence at that point. “But, I mean, we were all bound to be together eventually. It’s been proven time and time again that we don’t function well without each other.” Of course, they were referring to Bowie, Fox, Jude, Trix, and themselves. They honestly never thought they would see Marcellus in person. Maybe Bowie and him really were twin flames. One thing they would say, it was hard to dislike the man. He was gorgeous and that smile could win awards. He complimented Bowie’s timeless beauty very well. “I’m okay, I mean I don’t like this whole situation but at least here I don’t have to worry about levees breaking.” They shrugged and moved to take a seat opposite of him. River drummed their fingers against their knee for a second. “So, uh, what are you reading? Anything good?” Sienna eyes looked over to the book but couldn’t make out the title. They should probably get their eyes checked again, but they were blissfully living in denial about all that for the time being.

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                                     “Ha, well. Anything’s possible, right?” Marcellus laughed kindly. His time with Bowie had opened up his mind tenfold, expanded the things he already enjoyed reading about and taught him that magic could be found in least expected places. “That’s also true, I’m glad you’re all here together.” he smiled, spoken as if he was a true friend to them all even though he had single handedly prevented that from happening. “Just the things Bowie told me about how close you all are, it makes sense for you to stick together. Better that way too.” he added to clarify he wasn’t trying to step on any toes. Now he just needed to figure out the bigger reason why he was there too.  The subtle nod to the tragedy of Katrina made Marcellus give a softer smile, one that was equal measures of sadness. “Storms never feel right since then huh?” he offered an understanding. “Always feels like we gotta keep a close eye on them, in case.” Marcellus added before lifting the book he was reading moments before. “I had a little browse in the library and this one seemed to jump out at me. Timekeeper. Got me feeling like maybe I can speed the clocks up and get us out of here.”

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                                     All was still, but even that caused a sensation of restlessness. How the hell did a school full of town people seem so quiet? Marc hated being able to hear a pin drop, and the sterile environment was too much like a hospital for his liking too. The teacher took to pacing around the halls, sometimes stopping and redirecting himself again so the place seemed bigger and freer. A little trick of the mind to convince himself he wasn’t packed like sardines with everyone else. 

 Rounding a corner, he saw her. Marcellus learned a long time ago that it didn’t matter how often he saw Bowie, he’d have to pause and take a breath. Even when he’d wake up with her tangled in his arms, his brain needed that pause to register that she was there. It was real. “Can’t sleep either?” he smiled, noticing the way the machine light was pouring over her features like a soft halo. “You look like a renaissance painting.” Marc laughed softly, slowly coming to a stop a little closer. Maybe since their last surprise meeting, this would be a little easier. However, basking in Bowie’s own glow humbled Marcellus quickly. “Sorry, that was way too corny. Even for me.” 

where: edison high school, either day

who: @marcellushart​

They heard about him being in town, a teacher at the elementary school. River never properly met Marcellus. Being in Seattle and then Colorado for the entirety of Bowie’s relationship with the man. The only knew him through video calls, then what Bowie and the LeBlanc’s said about him. What they did know was that he broke Bowie’s heart with such force that River swears they could feel reverberations from states away. Seeing their best friend, the person they grew up with, first soul bond and sibling in pain rocked River to their core. That loss familiar and sore like an open wound at the time. As such, knowing he was back in her life triggered a strong protectiveness in River. The urge to be a shield to stop anything from hurting her like that again. However, they were going to be reasonably civil until given a reason otherwise. Just like Bowie had done with Trix for the most part. That being said, when River ended up next to Marc, they decided to distract themselves from their head with a conversation. “Bonjou and bonswa, Marcellus - how’s it?” River put on a smile. “About time I get to meet you in the flesh.”

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                                    Back when Marcellus was somebody Bowie could be proud of, he was introduced to the other parts of her heart. Her strong and bonded friendships with the people she spoke so highly of to him. River being one who’s name she mentioned often. Chosen family, which made their bond much more profound. He remembered saying how he’d take her to see River and Fox, a plan that he had every intention of working on. But getting his love to reunite with them never came into fruition as the trip to Seattle was swapped for one to California. His escape to run away from the pain he caused, and to escape from any of the pain he’d see if Bowie ever found somebody else. Guilt was a strange thing to hold so close to yourself, and now Marc could feel it weighing on his shoulders as he saw and heard River. They should have been introduced face to face already, and Marcellus couldn’t stop thinking about how this moment should have been so different. Bowie should have been there, a warm meal filling the kitchen with inviting spices and herbs. His arm tight around her as he shook hands with River and Fox, kissed Bowie on her cheek after saying how much she talked about them. “Oh...I...hi. It’s...going.” Marcellus laughed, almost missing the moment entirely as if it was a memory that actually existed. “I’d say so. Bowie mentioned about...everyone being here. Kinda funny how that works, like a weird full circle. It’s nice to meet you.” he closed the book he was escaping into, leaving behind his imagination so he could be present. It mattered. This mattered, even if it was in a different way than it should have. “How are you? I didn’t know Colorado could be so unpredictable but we live and we learn.”

-

The Judgement card, clarified by Six of Cups. Both upright. The resurrection of a nostalgic past. It’s the message she receives from her deck that morning, after her daily meditation was broken up by a stream of abnormally pesky thoughts interfering with her devoted quiet time. Intuition is a powerful thing, something she preaches to her small, Broom Closet clientele, and if anything, her intuition tells her not to ignore the disturbance in her spirit. The issue is, the disturbance isn’t heavy with impending doom. The cards confirmed that, but what does it all mean? She’d just have to wait and see, but it doesn’t stop her reading from lingering at the back of her mind throughout the day, all the way up until it’s time to pick Tyler up from school, fulfilling a weekly favor for his mom - a fellow dancer. 

Outside of Lockwood Elementary, Bowie crouches down, talking to another little one while waiting for the little one she’s come to collect. Something tells her to look up. Her gaze glides languidly from the little girl to Marcellus in one fluid, unblinking movement, as though she knew, somehow, he would be standing there. I’ll be damned. There it is, her reading personified. And for a moment, she’s a younger version of herself by a few years, filled to the brim with so much love, unable to imagine how anyone could possibly ever feel greater than this. A love that’s all consuming. A love that opened up her eyes in the morning and put a smile on her face. A love so bright, it shined through her and rejoiced when she found herself back by his side, comfortably at home in his arms – as if she’d been there many lifetimes before they found each other in this one. 

Poor Kiara, Bowie hadn’t realized she’d stopped talking mid sentence, still staring in awe until Marcellus moves closer with Tyler of all people. She stands up tall, holding her head high. Hearing his voice again, the deep, full-bodied warmth of it, makes goosebumps rise underneath her heavy, winter coat. “Ty, baby, go play with Kiara while I talk to Mr. Hart, alright? Thank you,” She smiles as she sends them off, waiting until the tiny duo are off on their merry way but still within sight. She turns her attention back to Marcellus, something she can’t quite wrap her mind around. “Well,” She starts, smiling still, softer now, and not quite sure where to go from here. No one could ever accuse Bowie LeBlanc of speechlessness, but standing here in front of a man she hasn’t seen in years, a man she just knew in her heart of hearts she would be spending the rest of her life with, she can’t seem to find the words. He’s still as beautiful as he was then. Dark, velvety skin. Full lips. The kindest of eyes, mirroring the kindest of souls. She can feel it then, the dull ache of remembrance, the ache from a broken heart he left her with that took time and deliberate effort to mend. What is she supposed to say to him all these years later? “If somebody told me this would happen, I’d tell them they a damn lie,” Bowie sort of laughs. It’s all she can do. The universe is a cruel, cruel mistress. “How long you been in Lockwood? It’s good to see you,” She says, and it’s the truth.

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                                     To be staring into the soft and beautiful eyes of Bowie again was something Marcellus only imagined. Often, too. As the sound of waves lapped against the sandy Californian beaches, he’d imagine feeling her finger tips grazing against his arm. He’d be whispering apologies into her ear, regaining the side of himself that was long gone. But those were just dreams, even as he looked into her inviting gaze they could only ever be dreams. It was like facing guilt, looking at it right in front of you and being reminded of everything you did wrong. He wondered how badly he hurt her, if he was no different to the people who hurt him. Maybe worse. To be hurt and know that pain and then continue it was worse. 

Bowie hadn’t changed one bit, if anything only appeared more beautiful than Marcellus remembered. If that was even possible. But it was never her striking eyes or perfectly etched features that made her beautiful, it was always so much more than that. To put their time together into words would be writing a novel all of its own, only Marc was to blame for tearing out those pages and cutting the ending shorter. Long before it’s time. How could he say sorry for that? Here? Now? With watchful eyes and attentive ears? He heard her urge Tyler to leave them for a few moments and he was thankful she did. He didn’t know how this was going to go. Bowie had every right to tell him to leave her alone, to avoid her, to pretend she didn’t exist. And Marcellus would have no right to argue, or tell her that she was all he could think about for years. 

The warmth of Bowie’s voice pulled him back to the moment with a nervous laughter, in case he was still imagining things and this wasn’t happening. “Yeah I think I woulda thought they were crazy.” he replied, a small hint of breathlessness showing from the way he couldn’t quite finish his own sentence as if he had ran up a flight of stairs over and over again. “Honestly, I only just got here.First day on the job too.” he laughed again, because what else was there to do and how could anyone explain the way their paths managed to cross? “I guess I need to ask you the same thing? Outta all the places...” he nodded gently. “It’s good to see you, Bowie.” And it was...it was so good but he couldn’t tell her exactly how good it felt because within that sweet nostalgia was bitter regret. Did she know how much he regretted it? “I erm...” Marcellus shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Would it be weird if I said we should catch up? You don’t have to say yes, at all. I’d understand. But it’d be nice.” Nice. He was meant to be someone who adored the depth and passion of words. But his tongue felt like it was sliced, words dropping away out of fear of overstepping. 

Ecrin gives a relatable grin to the other man, despite not relating one bit. His alarm sounds at 5am every morning so he has time for a breakfast, a work out and to prepare for work. “Have you ever heard of gradual alarms? They’re more effective at preparing you for your day.” Ecrin suggests even though the man never asked. He returns the shake of hand with another smile, before laughing softly. “Ecrin. I’m not sure if that means that I look focused or unsociable?” he questions, knowing that both are true. He then offers a more genuine smile, flipping down his laptop. “I’m basically finished so I don’t mind if you’d like to talk.” he shrugs, another wonderful and effortless lie from the lawyer. “You seem the sociable type.” spoken as a compliment while Ecrin is already regretting even offering the spare seat and not throwing his briefcase into it.

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                                     “I have now.” Marcellus laughed as he settled his backpack on the back of his seat, retrieving his tablet and phone from it and turning back to his new acquaintance. “Guess I’ll try it out and come back when it’s busy here again, and let you know.” the teacher said, thinking on the question lightly. “Just focused, I guess. If you were anti-social, I don’t think you’d offer up your table. I could be wrong, though.” he smiled to Ecrin. “Now, does that mean you think I seem annoying?” he returned the joking question, switching on his tablet and glancing up to the table-friend. “Won’t be offended if you think I do, I’ve been called a hell of a lot worse.”

open starter, ambrosia coffee co (0/4)

Ecrin’s eyes study the coffee shop, it getting far busier than when he last glanced up from his laptop. He can see a stray person, struggling to find a place to seat themselves and already he knows what is about to happen. He prepares himself as they near, taking in a breath and saying an internal goodbye for any work that he might have completed. His table is the only one with the free seat, so when his eyes meet the wanderer his hand gestures in front of him. “Please.” he says kindly, despite the Avci dislike of strangers roaring through his veins. “Standing up and drinking coffee would never be an enjoyable experience.” he smiles knowing it’s the least he can do. It’s his good deed done for the week or…year. “This place gets popular, I suppose. There were only three people when I arrived. I thought I had a cozy day ahead of me.”

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                                     All of Lockwood wanted to be in Ambrosia, it seemed. Marcellus was actually grateful for the busy crowd. It made him feel more at ease, people doing their own thing and too preoccupied to notice a new face in the city. Although, he also hoped somebody would notice his new face so he had somewhere to sit. His prayer was answered by a polite gesture, Marc nodding appreciatively as he set down his coffee and slipped into the seat opposite. “Ah, great. Thanks but I don’t know about that. When I’m late in the mornings I definitely drink some coffee while runnin’ around. Not just standing up.” Marcellus laughed kindly, and looked to the array of faces. “Guess that’s how you know they got the good stuff.” he shrugged and quickly proffered his hand to the other man. “Marcellus. I won’t disturb you too much, you got the look of someone who’s got a lot to do.”

                                   First day on the job was a success, the kids were warm and welcoming and Marcellus could feel the breeze of a new beginning. Just like the beginning before, and the one before that. His new beginnings had all been the same, and Marc remained cocooned without even realizing it. Volunteering to help with the kids being collected, he saw it as an opportunity to meet the parents of his students. It was while he was talking to a mother that his brain registered somebody in the corner of his eye. Then the smell of perfume drifted to his nose and his mind was ringing with honey glazed whispers of I love yous. The way the atmosphere shifted into something brighter made Marcellus know it was her. He didn’t need to turn around to see but he was suddenly rushing the conversation with the mother. He said goodbye and angled his body as she left, his head turning to catch sight of Bowie to confirm his reaction to her being there. What could be said? There was possibly no reason to even speak to her, because there wasn’t anything that an apology could fix. 

Just as Marcellus’ eyes made contact with the deep and soulful hues that had captivated him, a young boy from his class tugged on his hand to pull him towards her. “Come meet Bowie.” his little voice said, Marcellus being slung back to reality quicker than he could keep up with. Before he knew it, he was there in front of her and watching the boy switch his hand out for hers. “Oh,” he was going to continue but...she had a family now? It made sense, no man would be as stupid as he was to let somebody like her go. “Well, Tyler. I know Bowie already.” Marc’s deep voice explained calmly. “It’s been a while, actually. We’re both from New Orleans, that’s why we have these voices that make everyone tired when we read ‘em stories.”