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         ❝ hey, you! ❞ a good a start as any to a conversation, right? ❝ you look strong enough. what do you say to helping me out with some landscaping? i’ve got beer and some extra cash, if that sweetens the deal. ❞ a pause. ❝ i figure there’s nothing else to do around here, and i’ve been itching for a nice pond. ❞

   Instant panic rises in his throat, and regret sinks like a rock in his stomach. He’s usually anxious, and a consistent stutter even when joyful … it might make it seem like he’s less trusting of Carson than perhaps he should be. This isn’t to say he DOES trust her: loyalty is a mysterious thing, and transgressions Sawyer told of prevented real connection and kinship, even if just in the office of the local psychiatry.   “   I-I d-don’t think that!   ”   He said, eyes widened. He didn’t know if receptionists were bound by HIPAA.   “   I don’t th-think you’re … mean.   ”   

GIRLS WERE PETTY —— hitting below the belt, movement volant and subtle as the blow lands without warning. sawyer knows what carson’s doing yet she’s without of the ability to strike back. at least on the level that she wanted to.   “   yeah, thank you. and maybe next time, you could look where you’re going.   „   she musters, a smile shaping: cold, dark eyes keeping all the emotions it lacks.   “   we don’t want people to think you’re an inconsiderate bitch, right ?   „  

stefan didn’t want to be there any more than she did. nor did he feel INCLINED, past the possible consequences to be placed on his conscience, to go the extra mile. yet … carson’s refusal to accept offers made was infuriating. the crease between brows deepen, all whilst he struggles to justify her stubborn disposition. how hard did she hit her head ?   “   —— i’m calling you a cab.   „   words spoken beneath his breath, and a hefty layer of annoyance, stefan fishes the phone out of his jeans.

a NO would’ve sufficed. then she vocalises a plan of her own—a stupid, senseless plan—and stefan’s inclination to walk away dwindles.  “  it’s three in the morning. you can’t walk.  „  he begins.  “  it’s my bar. so, it’s my responsibility. you are.  „  spoken with an obvious distaste for the idea, he soldiers through. he had a sister: a bit younger but around the same age. and though he would’ve chastised her for accepting rides from strangers, stefan didn’t view himself as one of the pervs in a similar scenario.  “  now you can take a gamble and get screwed for cab fair. or i can drop you off on my way back.  „  beat, voice dropping an octave.  “  not going to let some twenty-something wander off alone after dark. not in this town.  „ 

   teddy smiles — strained, still jittery. the idea of everything that had happened with sawyer was stressful. he didn’t necessarily like carson. but teddy didn’t hate anyone; certainly not her. but the idea of someone he wasn’t close to ( read: his mother, sawyer, adriana, his therapist ) knowing he was making the weekly trek to the psychiatrist’s office … it made him more nervous than normal. which was, all things considered, already a high level.   “   okay,   ”   he manages a choked whisper without a stutter, before sitting down on the nearest seat — perched on the edge, like a bird about to take flight.   “   how…. how are y-you ?   ”   even if carson had neglected small talk, he couldn’t. 

the odd aspect of a hazed encounter wasn’t the HOT & COLD attitude displayed by carson. rather the two of them speaking at all. to say she couldn’t recall their last conversation would be a lie … in fact, sawyer would’ve preferred to not. and though there was much to discuss post the train-wreck it was, they never did. now not being as good a time as any.  “  yeah, i’m sure you do.  „  spoken with a scoff, she shifts in her stance : weight moved from one leg to other, arms folding across her chest.  “  i’m great. was. until you decided to try ‘n bulldoze me.  „ 

house parties were PREFERRED : faces known and liquor shared, more intimate than the local watering hole. but university friends differed from high school friends, so she settles for crowds split. one, maybe two, alright three, drinks in her system, and sawyer’s separated from her group. sure, accompanying one another to the bathroom was a GOLDEN RULE of feminism, but she had the drunken, foolish habit of wandering off. a trait of hers which would come back to bite her. it already was.  “  … hey ! — what the hell is your problem ?  „  swinging around, sawyer—intoxicated—chooses fight over flight. uncharacteristic in the context of carson, as the latter had been her go-to for years now. call it liquid courage.

brows shot up, it takes stefan a moment before the question registers in context. right, that.  “ enquirer. „  skimming, but that’s irrelevant. even if his pride clung to the distinction.  “ another hot shot fucked the nanny. you know, the usual. „  now listing past offenders would be impossible — stefan far from versed in celebrity culture — though it was a trope often making headlines. thank you again by the way. the doctor’s words echo in his head — a concussion, albeit mild, confusion a possible side effect. he nods, stifling a need to correct. that’s your first thank you, not second.  “ yeah, no problem. „  pause.  “ look, doc’s gonna clear you, and hospital bills can be a bitch so … you need me to give you a ride home? „

not responsible nor the caregiving type, yet somehow — in some way — stefan chose this moment to grapple with accountability. most days, he can muffle rowdy crowds and quarrelsome drunks. tonight had been excluded from the narrative. one could argue he riled them up: annoyance overtaking logic, resulting in things broken and customers endangered. once all was settled ( see: culprits kicked out and glass swept ), there was still the blonde. alone, alternatively abandoned by friends, and with a head injury to match the night’s chaos. it wasn’t guilt felt as much as inconvenience. alright, there was some blame picked up… stefan’s skimming the pages of tacky tabloid when she awakes, leaving a state of boredom for one of discomfort. awkward.  “  you got a concussion.  „  he informs, only repeating what’s been told to him. nighttime hospital staff not the most chatty.  “  wanted to make sure you actually woke up.  „  clearing his throat, he approaches: arms folding, exhaustion weighing him down.  “  … need me to call anyone?  „

@scgacious​   /    now that teddy was dead, he figured it might be important to go back to therapy. it wasn’t the whole DEAD thing, not really, but how he’d died. suicide, as most people knew, was not really the best indicator of one’s solid mental health. but considering that it had been effective, and then decidedly not … things were confusing enough to necessitate another visit to former doctor. he arrives at the office forty-five minutes early to prepare himself in the environment … he’s been there a million times before, but not recently, and more IMPORTANTLY: not at this time, on this day of the week, which is why he’s so surprised to see a semi-familiar face behind the front desk. of all people — why did it have to be carson? he clears his throat, standing awkwardly in front of the desk, drawing the blonde’s attention. it wasn’t like she’d know teddy was dead, but she’d know he was in therapy, and that was somehow worse.   “   i, uh — i’m … i’m here fo-for dr. …   ”   word falls silent on lips that feel like cotton, and he smiles awkwardly at her with an apologetic exhale before he tries again.   “   dr. m … morse   ?   ”  he’s embarrassed, maybe, of how long it takes him to get a sentence out, but nerves were getting the better of him upon seeing a familiar face. it wasn’t like it was anything ANYONE who had spoken to teddy wasn’t used to. 

   working at the attic was rarely stressful, in spite of all she technically had on her shoulders. she was in charge of it all, maybe, but most of the work was tedious rather than difficult … organizing, tagging, making change at the register. it was everything she made everyone else do, just more. and as much as she hated monotony, sienna had learned to find something at least SEMI-RELAXING in the idea of folding and sorting things. though what she genuinely disliked was deciding what to keep and what to pass along — things tattered enough for the trash or to be brought upstairs to her apartment to be used as a dishtowel, things ugly or out of season for them to donate to goodwill or the salvation army. they were a business, after all.   “   thank fucking god you’re here,   ”   she muttered, taking the coffee gratefully.   “   i need you to take whatever you consider fugly out of that pile and put them in the blue bins, okay? we’re having a sale on friday.   ”   a sale for a thrift store, they might as well have been charity anyway. sienna’s style was far toi eclectic to make the choice herself — mixing vintage and new, patterns and fabrics paired together in unlikely combination. almost all her shopping was done pro-bono courtesy of the attic. 

“ ━ I’m glad I’m still important to her. ” It comes out almost like he’s accusing her of not caring, but he bites his tongue, trying not to stammer out a re-worded version. Instead, he hopes she realizes he just means he’s glad Sol ( he calls her that because she’s a piece of the sun ) didn’t forget about him. “ Good, ” he replies, lips quirking in a small smile. They return to brief silence, and then she speaks again, and he feels like he got run over by a truck, or something like that. “ Car, hey, shh. It’s okay. You didn’t fuck anything up. ” A pause, and she says it ━ well, close enough. “ I love you too, ” he says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “ And I’ve missed you, too. God, I’ve missed you so much. ” Thumb unconsciously brushes her lip, and he sighs. “ Can━ Can I kiss you ? ” He asks, even though he’s afraid she’ll say no, because he’s more scared that she’ll run if he doesn’t.

“ I … Dunno. A year’s a long time for a kid. ” And for him, but he doesn’t say it. “ Hey, if no one else will watch it with her, I sure will. She’ll always be my Boo. ” Words leave his mouth quickly, but he doesn’t cover for them, instead falling silent. They’re walking towards her place, two falling naturally into step beside one another, but they pause again as she speaks. She takes his hand, and the movement surprises him enough that he almost draws back, but the warmth of her hand reminds him that this isn’t a threat. “ Oh, Car. ” Words are barely a whisper, and he places a hand to her cheek, thumb rubbing it gently. “ Car, I don’t care if you think I deserve better. All I’ve ever wanted was you. ” He wants so badly to kiss her, but he doesn’t ━ even though she’s saying she still cares about him romantically, he’s not sure if he should.