to write is to be eaten

“ A PICTURE WOULDN’T BE THE SAME, ”   he points out, shaking his head. maybe it would be what she’s looking for, but tommy likes to think that portraits are made with heart, a peek into what the person making it sees in you. maybe not necessarily what’s there. tommy remembers maire’s portrait of him having a lightness to it that he doesn’t think translates the same in photos. he’s a lot of things, and has been a lot of things over the year, but soft has never felt like one of them. much less during gallagher, during probably his hardest year of uni. he wonders how maire views him now, if she can see the difference in him from then to now—a difference that goes past physical appearance. fingers running through his hair, he’s suddenly a little more self-conscious than normal of the small grey hairs that highlight his curls. there’s not many, enough to count on two hands, but being with someone who hasn’t seen him since a time when he never worried about getting older makes them feel more prominent than ever. seeing maire makes him feel aged, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

because he likes sitting across from her, reminiscing about a part of his life where he had thought everything was so do or die. a time where he could have a conversation about shrek with a pretty girl and he’d actually find himself wanting to see her again, instead of thinking she’s mental. then again, maire has always been a little mental. in a good way.   “ it was, ”   he nods.   “ i remember enjoying all the holiday feasts. ”   it almost made up for not being home for the holidays every year. sometimes tommy thought he was better off at gallagher for them. there’s something about being with maire now that reminds him of the feeling of those celebrations, like they were at gallagher but it didn’t actually count. it felt too nice to be real.   “ you’re ridiculous, ”   he chuckles when she brings up fiona and shrek, head shaking. he’s never going to be able to look at that stupid ogre the same way. it’s not even a movie he would’ve watched if not for maire.   “ if you can carve out any more time for me before you go, i’ll see what i can do, ”   he tells her, a little slyly. a little sheepishly. they clearly weren’t close enough to keep in touch over the years, so are they close enough to see each other twice in two weeks ?   he’s not exactly sure.

tommy finds his interest tugging at the way she starts her proposition, leaning in a bit, wine glass still in hand.   “ right now ? ”   the offer to go back to her place makes his stomach feel unsettled, the few sips of wine suddenly feeling a lot stronger than it actually is. they had only just opened the bottle of wine, not even halfway through, the steaks probably cooking right now. but when he looks back at maire… he’s surprised at how badly he wants to go right now, the tug of something both familiar and new stronger than his desire to not let the wine go to waste. she can see it in his eyes that he wants to say yes, a small smile stretching onto his lips before even responding.   “ do you want to get the dinner to go, or just… go ? ”   he asks after a moment, with a little bit of a laugh, as if he can’t believe they’re actually considering this. tommy does for another sip of wine, eyes not leaving hers. 

This isn’t exactly uncharacteristic of Maire, to make a decision on the fly and be sure that it’s the best one for their current situation. There is something about Tommy that makes her feel like she can be this way around him even now and he isn’t going to judge her. Mostly, she’s surprised that he doesn’t have this picture-perfect life now. Maire had imagined him being married or at least in a steady relationship (although nothing about him indicated that when they were younger) and maybe having a kid or two. A baby Tommy that had bouncing curls like his and maybe a little girl that looked just like her mother. Those thoughts get shoved straight out of her mind, however, when he looks like he’s about to agree with her. For a moment, it doesn’t feel like they’re two grown-ups who should maybe stick to dinner and then return to their respective jobs. He wants to see her again, though, he’s already asked her and they’re barely now hanging out. Tommy has just seen her and he already misses her. Maybe it’s bad to think that deeply about it so instead she gets up and motions for him to do the same. 

          ❛   they  are  next  month  usually.  but  they  shouldn’t  be  too  bad  now.   ❜   if  it  comes  out  they’re  still  too  watery,  he  knows  a  few  ways  to  fix  it  with  honey.  being  in  a  kitchen  out  of  necessity  had  never  been  enjoyable,  but  for  someone  you  love ?  turns  out  it  can  be  something  quite  addictive  to  take  a  liking  into.  he  knows  it’s  not  an  obligation,  aware  they  could  very  well  do  without  anytime  homecooked.  but  this  —  throwing  a  few  things  in  a  basket,  sneaking  her  favorite  snack  in  so  it  magically  never  runs  out  back  in  the  pantry,  knowing  he’ll  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  later  sitting  on  the  counter  being  his  helping  hand  reaching  over  for  a  fork  he’s  looking  for  —  he  wouldn’t  go  without  it  anymore.  new  york  is  a  bigger  city  he’d  thought  himself  capable  of  handling,  sea  of  people  making  tides  harder  to  predict.  but  as  long  as  he  can  see  the  moon,  he  knows  she’ll  guide  him  through.  gaze  moves  to  her  with  a  smile,  tries  to  think  of  the  bottle  she’s  talking.    ❛   wasn’t  it  italian ?  mont  something  ?  it  was  sweet,  i  think.   ❜   it  is  hard  to  remember  if  he’d  like  the  wine  by  itself  more  than  he’d  love  the  way  it  tasted  off  her  lips.   ❛   i  apologize  again  about  your  shirt.   ❜    there  had  been  a  little  spillage  incident,  obviously  laughed  off,  even  now  getting  a  chuckle  out  of  him.

??? ???? ? cori & maire but idk what else w/@olivexwrites​

they’ve only just arrived that evening, got changed and came down to the casino. they’re gonna bump into whoever they need to when they do, so she’s not off the clock but she’s bored of the waiting game so cori’s trying to enjoy herself. she’s so excited to be in las vegas of all places for a job —everything is going on the company card OR handed to her willingly after falling for her gorgeous face. she’s in a subtle black slit-dress that droops loose across her frame; not leaving much to the imagination despite the unassuming knife strapped to her thigh. she wants people close, close enough she can stab them in the heart if the opportunity arose. or in the back. that’s just as fun. pulling the little handle that slot machines have i think, her eyes gleam with the glow of the game— she’s almost doubled her money already. “ there’s two guys over there, starring at us. ” it has nothing to do with the assignment but no one can say she’s not observant.  “ i bet we could get another round from them. ”   she grins, not yet looking at maire or the guys, still focussed on the game.

for as long as dejan could remember, romi had always had a certain gentleness so pronounced in their person that if translated in many forms. in their eyes, their smile, even the way they tattooed, and right, now in the way they kiss his hand. in the sleepiness still present in their voice. like a moth to a flame, dejan finds himself chasing after their warmth. he’s more than happy to indulge in her request, wasting no time to slip into bed as they direct him. his arm closest to them slips under their head and the other wraps around their hips to pull them flush against his frame. once they are settled, an overdrawn sigh rumbles through his chest, relaxation hitting his bones almost immediately. “much better.” his fingers find their way through their hair, lazily running through dark locks. “it’s too fucking early to be awake. maybe we should just stay in bed all day today.”  his eyes close but a bit of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. a lazy say with romi sounded like just the thing he needed. then again, he did hear that the weather was supposed to be really nice today. “or we can go the beach? i’m done with training for the day and it’s been a while since we’ve hit up the pier. do you have to go into the shop today? ” 

There are few places they can think of wanting to be aside from where they are right now. Maybe a concert in the park, swimming in the sea, on an airplane traveling to an unknown destination. All of those scenarios still have one thing in common, however, he’s there with them. It all feels too perfect right here, though. Getting to hear the sound of his heart beating, something they’ve become incredibly familiar with at this point. The scent of him which is different right after he showers. “I think staying in bed all day sounds very tantalizing.” Romi looks up at him with a grin, teeth sinking into their bottom lip for a moment. It’s hard not to get caught up in wanting him to be as close to them as possible when he literally looks like that. Sure, there’s much more to their relationship considering the years of history that they share and the many things they have in common but it doesn’t hurt that he’s so goddamn attractive. They’re aware of how people turn to look at them when they walk into a room together, how the two of them carry themselves in almost the same way. “The beach...yes.” Their hand is wandering down his chest, slowly, fingers tracing circles on his skin. “We could go a bit later.” She shifts so that she’s on top of him now, legs on either side of him. They bring their hands to cup his face. “I think we should stay in bed for now.” Another grin as she leans down to press her lips against his. There is nothing gentle about the action, they know with him there is no need to be. Who gives a shit if the sun is barely coming up? 

It feels so suffocating to feel like you’re only allowed to be fine. No pitiful remorse, no merciful relief. Just fine, be fine. Feel guilty, regret your mistakes for the rest of your life, but don’t show it, no one wants to see it, no one wants to accept an apology. You can find joy in your life, but only if you dare to claim you’re still human, and you can’t show that either or it’s a slap in the face to everyone you’ve ever hurt. Just be fine. Your hands committed the crime, It’s your price to pay. Feel grateful you’re still breathing. Sometimes Cole wonders if he is in fact still breathing, or if this is all just playing in his head while he continues to drown, lost under the water.

Owen’s arms around him are a lifeline again, as shocking to his system as they were that last night in the dorm. Cole takes in breath, but it’s rough and choked out, and it’s like this touch, this act of grace from his old friend, is a hand extended out to him telling him it’s okay to be anything other than fine. At least for now, at least today, hidden under the cover of London rain. An unfamiliar, quiet sob escapes him, muffled in the wet fabric of Owen’s sweater, and he can’t hold back the tears that follow. “Owen, I’m sorry,” he mutters into his shoulder, tears and rainwater mixing together. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Cole whispers, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to say it enough. There are too many things to apologize for, but right now, one comes to the surface, more important than the rest, and he can’t stop himself from saying it after coming all this way. “I’m sorry I’m here. I know it’s not fair, I know it. I know you deserve to be rid of all of this, but I can’t just end it like that. I’m sorry, but I can’t lose you. Not without trying.”

Cole comes away from the embrace, and they still hold each other’s arms as he looks at him, barren as ever, the open book he’d wished to be since the day he first met Owen. “I don’t want to keep hurting you,” he whispers. “Tell me to go and you won’t have to see me again. I promise.” It would break him, Cole thinks, but he’d do it for Owen. The other had sacrificed so much for him, and he just wishes he understood Cole would try to the same. It isn’t fair that Owen had to keep suffering, and while he’s all too familiar with the feeling as well, Cole would do what he could to make it so he became the only one. Owen has endured enough.

“But if there’s a part of you… that can forgive me…” Cole shakes his head, almost too guilty to even try, but he can’t keep hanging his head in shame like this. It feels like walking into the fire again just to beg for scraps of humanity from the people who once loved him, but he loved them too. He still does. So he’ll walk and run and fight, no matter how unfamiliar and terrifying the fire is. “If there’s time… for both of us to heal, to get to a point where you feel safe enough to consider us friends again, I… I would really like that, Owen,” Cole finishes, getting the words out through the chokehold of grief and hope wrapping around his throat and allowing him the pain of feeling again. “I would really love my friend back.”

There might have been a time when Owen would have accepted Cole’s apology. A moment back in the massive halls of Gallagher that hearing the words echo around him might have made him see things the way that the other boy sees them. Perhaps in such a familiar setting, it would be easier to grasp the potential that everything could still be the same way that it used to be but that isn’t how love works. Whatever the correct word is for what he feels for Cole, it is too overbearing for them to keep going on being in each other’s lives and pretend that nothing bigger has happened between them. The boy can’t look at the other boy without aching to make the space between them nonexistent, like a moth to a flame. Fingers might shily graze his, an arm wrapped around his shoulder in an amicable way, thumb brushing against his cheekbone where there once was a bruise or a scratch (from practice or from a mission), lips roughly crashing with his, asking and begging, begging please be in love with me too, Cole. It takes everything in him not to bring any of this up right now. 

“There is no reason for you to be sorry.” This is to say that all that has happened between the two of them is too much to be reduced to those two words or into any words. “You did what you thought was right at the moment, we all did.” As much as Owen wants this to be only about them and have nothing to do with other people, both of their choices involve others, both of their choices would and have condemned others. It’d be selfish to get together now and call it love. There are so many things he can’t bring himself to say. Like, the fact that he thinks they lost each other the moment they kissed. It ruined everything, Owen ruined everything. He had tried his best, in an act of pure love and perhaps obsession, to prove how much he cared for Cole. Taking the blame for someone else, risking ending up in prison or worse, it’s no easy task and he was just a kid. Just a boy asking another boy to please stay in his life forever. The answer had been a resounding no. Yet, here he stood, baptized in rainwater asking for a second chance. 

It would be so easy to ask him to stay. Invite him inside, offer him a clean pair of clothes and remind him not to get any of his mother’s furniture dirty. They’d throw Cole’s clothes in the dryer and talk about everything they had been up to since they had last seen each other. There would be laughter and drinks and maybe if the rain let up they would go out. He’d get to show Cole around London again. There were bookstores waiting to have Cole run his fingers along the spines of their books and paintings in museums holding their breath until Cole’s eyes had met them. It would be a hundred times easier if they had met when they were younger. Fifteen or sixteen, love doesn’t seem as complicated then, or maybe it feels like the only thing in the world. It shouldn’t have been this way. Cole should have been a boy growing up down the street from Owen. Their parents were supposed to be friends who laughed as the two of them snuck out late at night to go for drives. They’d drive far enough away to see the stars dance above the ocean. But that’s all a fantasy his brain has managed to conjure up in order to compensate for the reality that he’s living in. 

outside of the ring dejan didn’t have a graceful bone in his body. he didn’t mean to wake romi up but he had always been a little too rough with his movements, a little too careless when it came to being discreet.  “we finished up early. thank fucking god.” training had been a pain in his ass recently. working out had always been an outlet for him but with the tournament coming up his father had gone into one of his many rampages where he hyper-focuses on providing dejan with what he refers to as ‘ tough love. ’ theres a prominent redness in his cheek as the result of one of his many coaching lessons. the shower was meant more for dejan to cool down and by the time he hears romi’s voice any anger left in his bones is gone. the sight of romi wrapped in his blanket was nothing short of endearing. warm and cozy  — a stark contrast to how his morning had been. he tosses the towel he was using to dry his hair aside and makes his way over to them. “sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you.” with one hand gripping the edge of the bed and the other tasked with brushing tresses away from their face, he leans in to press a kiss on their temple. “do you want to go back to sleep or are you gonna let me make you some breakfast?” another kiss, this time on their cheek.

At this point, they should be used to seeing him beat up. The bruises and the scars shouldn’t seem that strange to someone who is dating a professional boxer but all of it still manages to tug at her heart. Every mark left on his body is one that Romi wishes they could magically take away from him. Even if he claims that it doesn’t hurt, they’d rather nothing ever happen to him (real or for show). “It’s okay. I should probably get up soon, anyway.” Not that there is anywhere they necessarily need to be but getting up will mean getting to spend more of this day with him and that’s an opportunity they refuse to pass up. Romi lifts their hand up to catch his free one, bringing it to their lips and placing a kiss on the back of it before giving him a lazy grin. “Come here.” They scoot over in the bed to point out exactly where they’d like him to be. “Come lay with me for a minute and then we can worry about breakfast.” The damn mark on his cheek is glaring right at them but they don’t want to embarrass him by bringing it up, it’s something they’ve discussed many times, right now they simply want to wrap the boy they love up in the blankets with them and keep him safe. If only for right now, it doesn’t have to last, as long as they know that they tried. 

“ THAT’S NOT A BAD IDEA, ”   he chuckles, though tommy’s hoping it won’t come to that, at least not as long as she’s in the same city as he is again.   “ so you can’t forget what i look like. ”   not that not having a portrait of him stopped her from remembering what he looked like now, but nevertheless. part of him assumes she’s kidding anyway, because what would she want with a portrait of himself ?   especially if she’s not doing it professionally anymore. giving her a small nod, tommy reaches for his wine glass.   “ i honestly couldn’t have told you what we talked about when we were texting on thanksgiving, ”   he admits, although it was so long ago that he doesn’t feel too ashamed about it.   “ it was mostly dessert in the tower i remember. ”   and essentially everything that came after, in razor-sharp detail. a small smirk grows on his lips when she admits she had been distracted, and tommy remembers feeling how she had felt too. there’s very few people he’s felt like he’s clicked with easily in his life, but maire had undoubtably been one of them. he had met her during a very hard and very weird time of his life, and sitting across from her now, he did wonder what would’ve changed if it had been just one year earlier or later.   “ wow, ”   he chuckles, a hand on his heart as if he’s insulted at the notion.   “ it can’t just be any tower in london, though. where’s the fun in that ? ”   except he’s definitely going to find them one, if for no other reason, than an excuse to spend time together again. 

“Well, I guess a picture would do as well.” Though that’s very much less romantic of a way to remember him, she knows that she shouldn’t be thinking about him that way in the first place. Attempting to remember what they had been like together at Gallagher, let alone what they had talked about, seemed nearly impossible. It wasn’t so much the memories that she held onto of him that told her she’d been fond of Tommy but rather the way that he made her feel now. The way that he was making her feel now. Like, they were always meant to be sitting here together in London of all places. As if the two of them were going to head back to his apartment afterward it was a routine they’d always had together. Maybe it was the fact that Stella and she had somewhat lost touch now that made her feel free to think these things. Maybe it was still just as messed up to see him with such eyes but she couldn’t help it. There was a tenderness she felt towards Tommy that perhaps would always be there. “The dessert was good. All the food at Gallagher was just too good for being school food.” Naturally, it wasn’t a normal school and there was a certain quality that had to be upheld in everything related to it but she was allowed to speak about it as a normal college because it was him. 

Now that all of the thoughts have started, she can’t stop them from continuing to come. From thinking about how close the two of them had sat together in the tower, laughing and drinking wine as if they’d known each other forever and not only passively. About asking for his number right away just so she could get him food or whatever at the Halloween party. It’d be a lie to say she never wondered where any of their endeavors could have led but both of her educations had always weighed heavier on her mind. She put her ideas of anyone else onto a backburners, started forgetting people she’d once been incredibly close to, practically what became of Gallagher seemed more story than memory to Maire. “A special tower just for us sounds like something Shrek would definitely be offering Fiona to woo her.” A laugh spills from her lips at this, she knows now how silly it sounds even if when she was younger it seemed partially serious. Maire had always been one to commit to the bit. “I mean, if you find one, I’m there.” But she’d be there wherever he wanted her to be. At least while she was here, it wouldn’t be an opportunity that she would find herself wasting. Not again. 

“Well, I didn’t really think this through, did I?” Cole responds, staring down at his feet, uncomfortable and awkward but a dry laugh escapes him. The question feels loaded, because of course he just means the rain and his bumbling choices leading him to stand here with rain-soaked socks, but as the words leave his mouth he knows what they’re both thinking of now. There are a lot of sides Cole had showed Owen, and more too that were ripped from the depths of his ribs and put on display for everyone to see before he ever got a chance to explain himself. But even the worst sides, in the worst ways, one could argue always had thought. The double agent, the traitor, the runaway, even as terrible as they were, it was apparent those versions of the boy had to have thought things through, had to have had a plan. But this Cole now feels lost, and maybe he’s admitting to his friend now that he doesn’t knows exactly what he’s doing now on his doorstep. He has hopes and desires, but no plan.

He’s still sort of just letting words fall out of his mouth, praying he finds the right ones, when Owen simply steps outside next to him, and that snaps Cole out of it. “What are you doing?” he blurts, one hand anxiously trying to usher him back in his house, as if he’s ever succeeding in making Owen do anything. “Owen, you’re getting rain— Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no reason the both of us have to get wet,” he huffs, but there’s no use and it’s entirely too late and Owen is right; now they’re just two fools standing here.

Reflexively, he wants to respond, I know, because he’s eager to agree or to apologize. But he hadn’t really known. Cole had wanted to give him time, give him space, but it had always been in his plan to end up here someday soon, to find him again and ask for forgiveness, to salvage what he could of one of the most precious relationships in his life. So maybe it hurts to hear him say it was the wrong choice, just as he’d feared it might be. But if it’s the wrong one, he might as well follow through with it now, so instead of agreeing, Cole offers his own truth. “I had to.” It feels strange, to talk to him steps apart again, to be in his presence again under their hometown’s rain holding them in place. “I’m sorry, Owen, but I had to. Maybe I’m the last person to assume it, considering how many friendships I’ve ruined, but I think it’s what friends do,” he says quietly. “I had to come. I think you know that. Or, I hope you do.”

Owen can barely feel the water that’ is falling onto him now, as if it were merely a part of him Maybe it always had been. It is the same way that he can barely feel Cole when he reaches out to try and push him back inside the house. What a sight the two of them must be, standing there in the pouring rain having everything to say to each other yet speaking nothing. He breathes in, attempting to think of what he’s going to say. Something that will get Cole to realize there’s no reason for him to be standing here at his porch. Mostly, Owen thinks, because he’s a coward who doesn’t want to have whatever type of conversation they’ll eventually get to. “We’re friends.” Is what he finally manages to say, which feels like more of something he has to confirm to himself than to the boy standing in front of him. 

Of course he knows that he had to come. Cole still seems as sure of himself as when Owen had first met him. It was something that had immediately attracted him, that whatever he talked about or studied, he seemed to already be knowledgeable about. There was no day that passed since he’d left Gallagher, that he hadn’t imagined this exact scenario. That he hadn’t wanted him to show up and tell him...well, Owen didn’t know what he wanted to hear. There was no scenario where Cole reciprocated the feelings that Owen had for him, even in all of his dreams, he didn’t dare to imagine such a thing. He’d been hurt enough and trying to play up a scenario where the two of them were together in that way was impossible. He had also thought very hard, however, about their friendship. 

There was a reason that Owen had defended Cole in the first place and that reason wasn’t so that Cole would fall in love with him. It was because he cared about him and wanted him to be safe. Nothing more and nothing less. So, who was he to deny the boy that was here now? That had come all the way here in order for the two of them to talk or at least to see each other? For a moment, Owen looks down at his hands, noticing for the first time the droplets that are collecting there. The small particles that are doing to disappear as soon as he makes a movement that’s too brisk or attempts to touch them. For a second instead of feeling powerless, he feels as if he wields far too much responsibility. Cole is still somehow his responsibility. Sometimes you have to love someone from far away for your own good and sometimes you’re not ready to accept the pain that comes with that quite yet.

THE OFFER MAKES CECILIA SMILE, because she really does like choosing wine.   “ i know just the thing, ”   she promises her, going to the whites section and choosing her favorite bottle of chardonnay.   “ you strike me as more of a red type, but that pairs better with meals than just walking around. ”   and god forbid they spill it on themselves…   “ i made reservations for dinner at one of my favorite restaurants tomorrow. they have a red that’s to die for, just wait. ”   after having to lie to marifer about so much of herself during gallagher, cecilia couldn’t put to words how refreshing it was to get to show her a piece of her true self in her home country. while a lot of her past wasn’t the best to talk about, she’ll always be fond of italy.   “ really ? ”   she asks, not knowing the first thing about hollywood. the idea of acting in anything makes her smile, much less with marifer.   “ don’t tempt me. that sounds like it would be fun. ”   cecilia would probably make a pretty good actress—she’s already used to the acting that comes with being undercover.   “ those sound important, ”   she says with a little bit of awe, always amazed at how cool marifer’s parents truly were. it wasn’t the least bit surprising, considering marifer was one of the coolest people she knew, but while walking around venice, italy it felt like a different world altogether. 

“ my first guest, ” he confirms reluctantly. the hint of surprise in her tone makes him feel slightly embarrassed. he recalls, rather vividly, how popular she had been back in gallagher. or at least that’s what it looked like. she always seemed to be with someone, and not once did they appear anything less than content to be in her company. despite his behaviour, he’s glad he was able to catch her alone that day in the library. “ oh, the dreaded silent treatment. i’m not quite sure you would be able to beat me at that. ” he hopes things will never come to that with miray, and from how effortless he finds her friendship he doubts that they will. once they reach the beach, he walks over to two empty sunbeds. “ more cocktails, yes? i can go order them from the bar. ” he’d prefer if the resorts had staff on the beach but he can pretend he doesn’t hate acting like a server for today.

HE REACHES ACROSS THE TABLE FOR HER PHONE, taking his time as he flips through the pictures, zooming in when necessary. there’s a familiarity in the style that makes tommy smile, and he’d like to think that if he saw them hanging up at a gallery, he would know they were hers without the title.   “ they loook great, ”   he tells her, and he means it, passing the phone back to her.   “ i don’t know what i’d do with another portrait of myself, but if you ever need models, i do have the experience. ”   of course he still has the drawing she had made him, though it is packed up with his gallagher stuff in his closet. still, tommy knows exactly where he could find it, and later tonight he’ll probably go looking for it.   “ do you prefer working off of people or photos as models ? ”   he asks, wondering if he can get her to draw something else for him. tommy doesn’t even blink at the compliment, though his hand runs along his jawline without realizing.   “ i almost forgot about that, ”   he laughs, although now that he’s thinking about it, he doesn’t know how he almost forgot.   “ what was that about, anyway ?   were you really threatening to murder me ? ”   he had never gotten a chance to ask her that, mostly because back then the topic of stella had always been precarious for them.   “ no, i can’t say i’ve come across many other astronomy towers in my time. have you threatened anymore men with memes recently ? ”

WHEN THE WAITER COMES TO SAY HI, TOMMY DOESN’T HESITATE, ordering them a bottle of wine and two steaks, just to make it easy. the last thing he wants is the waiter coming back and forth interrupting them, when they’re potentially talking about classified information—and when tommy knows what he wants, he goes for it. a small chuckle escapes him at the word practical, because it’s not a word he associates with maire seamus, and it feels funny coming out of her mouth. then again, the maire he knew had been younger, a college students with less responsibilities to face. it’s also a little funny because he had thought the same thing about art school when she had first told him all those years ago—that it wasn’t practical—and now here he is, a little disappointed that’s not the path the ended up on.   “ i can understand that, ”   he says, shrugging once.   “ people change their minds about things. but i would love to see anything you’ve done recently, if you have pictures. ”   tommy smiles down at the table for a moment, not sure how the mention of shrek manages to make him feel a little shy. maybe because it doesn’t feel like they’re talking about shrek.   “ i’ve never been able to watch the movie the same way again, ”   he looks back up at her, with a small laugh. it’s been awhile since he had watched it, admittedly. 

WITH A PLEASED SMILE, she nudges the brunette over to the direction of a wine shop.   “ red or white ? ”   eyes scan the shelves as they walk inside, looking out for wine labels that have already been branded her favorites, as she listens to mar talk about her life back in california. it felt like years had passed since cecilia had been there herself, and part of her yearned to go back to the beaches of san diego one day soon. to see more of california. to spend more time with marifer. she missed her parents, too.   “ really ? ”   brown eyes glance over at her friend, with a smile.   “ are you going to become a hollywood actress ?   you’re certainly pretty enough for it, ”   cecilia teases.   “ but i’m sure they are. that’s great, though. can you tell me anything about the movies they’re working on ? ”

LIPS PRESSING TOGETHER TO HOLD BACK A SMILE, tommy just flashes her a silent look. of course he was going to point it out, so she knew what she was getting herself into. his eyes lift up from the menu just in time to see a blush creep onto her cheeks, this time letting the smile flicker onto his lips.   “ thank you. ”   he keeps his eyes on her as he waits for an answer to his question, only darting down to read a line or two on the menu during the brief silence. part of him wished her answer was a bit more concrete than that, but when she throws it back around at him, he can understand it.   “ i believe so, ”   he echoes back, with a small smirk.   “ it’s a loaded question. but i’m happy where i am right now. if i wasn’t, i’d like to think i’d do something about it. ”   of course, there are parts of his life that could always be improved, but much of the life of a spy had to be taken one day at a time. he could worry about the missing gaps like dating and a family when he finally retires. tommy continues to scan the menu, but there’s something nagging in his head.   “ i’m surprised you decided to go into our line of work, ”   he admits, eyes flickering back up at her.   “ i would’ve thought you’d decide to pursue art. do you still do it recreationally ? ”