too young to burn.

Blake had been raised in an environment and home that should have molded her to be someone who was continuously arrested rather than the person who made an arrest. She’d had close contact with addiction in the form of her parents and neighbours, continuously raised around violence and danger. She’d even started her young life by getting in trouble with the law until someone saw something inside of her and took her beneath his wing despite the times she gave him trouble for it. While she wanted to be someone who followed the law to the letter, she was not. She bent and shifted it to match her methods. 

Nevertheless, she continued to learn from other comrades about what it took to be a good cop. Often times she got caught up in her anger when situations arose where she had little control. But nothing weakened her more than watching those she cared about battle their own demons. Those were things she could help with and care for. Therefore, she’d done her part to ensure that Simon was okay at the end of his days. Even allowing him to call her whenever he needed someone to speak to after hard cases and harder days. Her promise was to always be there and she was thankful that she’d never broken it.

“It’s going but there’s a lot to do, still. Luckily we’re getting more volunteers coming in.” The brunette said with a grimace since there still weren’t enough but she knew that people were injured. Shaking her head, she shrugged off his apology. “If anything, your call came at the right time for me. I needed to get out and speak to you — It’s always nice. Plus, I’ve been meaning to catch up on your life and how you’re doing.”

Simon smiled warmly before taking a sip of his coffee. Since recovering from his injuries, he hadn’t been one for friends, certainly not friends who he could call and feel comfortable talking about everything that was constantly going on inside of his head. He had always been a rather quiet person, the keep-your-head-down type, someone who just wanted to get his work done as efficiently as possible — though, he was slowly learning that for him, that wasn’t a sustainable way to live. Because on the other hand, he loved people. He loved getting to know about different cultures and hearing about the adventures other people had gone on. And hence, it was a rude awakening when he realized for the first time that he needed people — instead of being the one who was needed.

Thankfully, he and Blake seemed to be the type of friends who could support one another while also accepting support themselves — though he was working on his half of that arrangement. But, at the end of the day, reaching out was the first step and it was a big one for a man like Simon.

“I’m doing okay,” he began, clearing his throat before his next set of words. “Not sleeping that much, unfortunately.” It wasn’t as though Simon ever slept a lot, but as of late, it seemed to be that he was up in the late hours of the night staring at his ceiling fan, thinking about things from the past that were of no use to anybody. He was lucky to be the type of person who could run functionally on a bad night of sleep, but that didn’t mean he was okay sleeping like that every night. “A lot of coffee,” he quipped, raising his cup only slightly before sipping from it again.

As Blake returned in front of him, she couldn’t help the fond smile that found her features. It was nice to see that he was in one piece with no visible scars or wounds from the hurricane that had passed through days before. Thankfully, some businesses such as this one had managed to get by with little need for renovations and opened earlier than most. It provided a small sense of normalcy that she felt many of the town needed. A sense of hope for things to rebuild and return to some sort of normalcy. 

Peering back at him as she lowered her cup, she couldn’t help but nod. “But people are strong and I’ve seen some beautiful things come out of this. The sense of pride people have as they come together to help each other out is pretty spectacular.” Blake folded a leg over the other and smiled. Donations had poured in and people with had not been impacted still came out to lend an helping hand to those who had been heavily impacted by the storm. A sight for sore eyes. 

“That’s good. I think that’s all we can hope for right now. Time is probably what we all need.” She said with a small wink and soft smile. “I was lucky enough to get out of it unscathed. I wasn’t on the front lines of the hurricane, but you may have heard of the hostage situation. I was there for the better part, and I’ve been on the front lines a little later up until now. I’m still going out to help re-build and fix what is still broken.”

“You’re telling me.” Working in accordance with his fellow Wilmington residents had brought him back to the days where he cherished the brotherhood he felt with his troops. Everybody coming together for a common cause, trying to make their piece of the world just a little bit better for everybody — it was something he had never experienced before, not in that capacity anyway, and seeing that kind of partnership had changed him fundamentally. He held a high standard for the way he treated people now, and besides, his father had raised him to be a respectful man and so, a respectful man he would be.

Simon nodded, watching her features as she spoke. He admired her and the job that she did, the two of them in understanding about the difficulties having such careers can come with. And for Simon, not a lot of people were to be opened up to about those difficulties, not even his own siblings — but there was something different about Blake. She had found him in moments of panic, not by his choice, but she had helped him in the moments that he needed it the most and for that he was grateful. She had a rather pleasant disposition about her and, admittedly, Simon felt comfortable around her. 

That was rare.

“And how has that been going? I know it isn’t an easy job, but no doubt you’re helping in any way you can, hm?” He leaned forward as he spoke, a smile dancing on his lips, and he sipped his coffee once more before placing it on the plate in front of him. “Thank you for meeting me. I’m sorry if it came out of nowhere, I just... I enjoy talking to you.” A small shrug fell from his shoulder as he peered at her.

It was no surprise to anyone that Blake had a mothering nature to her. If she had seen a psychiatrist about it, she imagined that they would have said it was do to not having a parental figure in her life. That maybe she’d chosen to mother others like she hadn’t been mothered in her past. Perhaps even the fact that she had no children and was projecting those needs upon others. Who knew, either way, she couldn’t help the need to constantly ensure that those she cared about were okay at all times. 

Plus, she liked to think that it made her a nice person. Whether it was true or simply overbearing, she didn’t know. Simon had not only been a friend of hers for some time, but also an individual who she liked to check in on. After having witnessed many panic attacks from her peer, she had gone out of her way to check in during a case as well as out of one. This storm was no different and she was more than content to accept the coffee date when it was placed on the table. Both to ensure he was fine but for her own selfish need to get out of the house. 

“Simon,” the brunette said as she touched his shoulder when she walked up behind him. His name had slipped past her lips to ensure she didn’t frighten him when she briefly touched him. Leaning down, she placed a peck upon his cheek before moving to the open spot adjacent him. When she shrugged her jacket off and placed her purse on the side, she peered over at the counter. With one finger rising to indicate she’d be right back, Blake rose to go order herself her normal black coffee. 

It took mere seconds given the easy order and Blake had returned in her seat. “You don’t know how happy I was to hear from you. But not as happy to see that you’re in one piece and okay after everything that happened. I mean, physically at least. But you are, okay, right?”

Simon looked up with his dark eyes as Blake touched his shoulder, announcing her arrival through spoken recognition as well. He placed a similar kiss on her adjacent cheek when she did the same, the greeting bringing out the Italian in him before she sat down. He watched as she set her things down before going to get herself a coffee, and for a moment Simon kicked himself for not doing it for her — he was a gentleman after all and he had been the one to invite her to coffee. Though, as quickly as the thought came into his head, Blake was already back at their table and sitting across from him as she had been before.

“Well, it’s been tough. For everybody, I mean.” He took a drink of his coffee, looking at her over the rim of his mug before he set it back on the plate it had inhabited. There was something about Blake that made Simon feel comfortable. He still didn’t feel as though he wanted to spill his deepest secrets with her, but the night before he had sent her a message, he had been struggling to fall asleep over flashbacks of a multitude of things he had endured in his lifetime.

And, despite his hesitation, Blake seemed like the first person he wanted to talk to.

“Yeah, I’m okay — as okay as one can be after everything that happened with the hurricane.” His elbows rested comfortably on his knees as he spoke, his lips pressed into a soft line as he held back any more information. “How about yourself, Blake? Were you on the frontlines?” 

Simon: Recovering, much like everyone else in town.

Simon: How about tomorrow afternoon? Bespoke?

Blake: Yeah, I haven't seen anything this bad in years.

Blake: I'd like that. Give me a time and I'll be there.

@blakestvens​

The smell of freshly brewed coffee had always comforted Simon. It reminded him of his father, as he had always opted to start his day with a mug of coffee before going into the vineyard to begin his work. And so, among other things, the smell was one that reminded him of his childhood in Naples — it brought a smile to his face as he entered the business, taking his sunglasses off and placing them in the front pocket of his shirt, folded. He was early, as per usual, for his coffee date with Blake. And as he ordered his own warm drink, he thought about why he had invited her out in the first place.

Blake had, without much permission from Simon, inadvertently run across him in a few moments of crisis. She had found him more than once in the middle of a panic attack, something that he wasn’t exactly proud of, but it was his reality ever since coming back from serving overseas. And although his mental health hadn’t been as bad as it had first been when he arrived back in Wilmington, there were a good handful of things that set Simon off. 

Unfortunately, work was sometimes one of them, and with the job that each of them did, they oftentimes worked a case together. Simon usually being the one first on scene before handing it over to Blake and her coworkers. Nevertheless, he tried his best to hide those moments of trauma from other people, but it didn’t always work. And although he didn’t feel comfortable opening up to the woman about those things just yet, it felt natural for him to reach out to her when (after the hurricane) he was struggling.

So, he took his coffee and grabbed a table near the window, enjoying the view of other people walking up and down the sidewalks next to the cafe. And here, he waited, closing his eyes ever so often to enjoy the smell of his coffee while he waited for his companion.

Blake: I was just about to text you

Blake: I'm good, how about you? Is everything okay with your home?

Blake: I could really use a coffee and good company. Whenever you're free.

Simon: Recovering, much like everyone else in town.

Simon: Hey Claire, can I take you up on that offer to meet Vita?

Simon: She heard you were asking about her.

Simon: Hey Blake.

Simon: Just reaching out to see how you're doing.

“You know what they say: beggars can’t be choosers. I think I can make an exception in this case — we’ve got about every kind of red in the cellar that you could think of,” she gave him a grateful smile, handing off some of the bags before leading him inside. For someone who was awfully cautious, to the point of being paranoid, she was awfully quick to invite a stranger into her home. In her defense, his face was somewhat familiar, as were a lot of people’s around the Wilmington area. Chalk it up to her sheltered upbringing. “The kitchen is fine, I’ll unpack them for her later — and please excuse the state of my yard. The hurricane wasn’t very kind to it.” She called back to the dark-haired male, placing the bags on the counter and letting out a heavy sigh. “Now, where was I — wine?” the brunette turned towards him. “I’m Veronica. I figure you should know the name of the woman exploiting you for free labor.”

“I am a man of very Italian roots, so you’re speaking my language.” He laughed a little bit while he hoisted the bags into a more comfortable position, nodding at the debris. He followed her inside, a little surprised and amused at her willingness to let a stranger into her home, though Simon only had good intentions at the end of the day. Still, it was refreshing, he thought. Setting the bags down in the kitchen, Simon nodded and put his hand out, a grin on his lips. “Simon. Simon Messina. It’s very nice to meet you Veronica, and don’t mind exploiting me, I do it for a living — kind of.”

Jenny exhaled at his words. “No kiddin’.” She said quietly, knowing full well how awful people could be in a crisis. “I couldn’t help but agree with you,” she could tell it was a speech, he was getting used to telling. “Am I going to have to guess what you do for a living? It has something to do with helping people, right?” 

She held onto the stuff she took, holding it close to her chest. “What’s your dog’s name?” She asked, figuring the small talk would keep his mind off everything else. She was pretty alright with making small talk to the point where no one had to worry about it.

A smile grew on Simon’s face as he nodded, gesturing to his outfit, which was a banged up version of his regular paramedic uniform. “You would be right on that one. I’m a paramedic, have been for the last year or so.” Small talk was much needed in times like these, as to Simon, it built community — it was a way of getting to know your neighbours and familiarize yourself with them during a crisis.

“Vita. It’s Italian for life.” He handed out another blanket as he spoke, turning to look at her with the same smile on his face. Clearly speaking about his pup was something Simon enjoyed as, in all honesty, she was his best friend and his lifesaver. “I got her when I was in a rough way. She’s been an absolute angel.”

Claire had recognized the look in the male’s eyes. It was the same she’d received when she recounted her story as a child in foster care, the same when she told people of the number of children who fell between the cracks within the foster system. It was a look of pity and hope of something better — but those two emotions were useless as they did little. What they needed were more people to take action. Then again, it was not Claire’s place to ask that of the male. 

Instead, she went to the people with money and threw it in their face. While being a social worker had its set of rules, Claire was the exception of the rule as she played the system to get things moving. If a child didn’t have a home, then she was ready to open her own home and have ten children on her floor if that’s what it would take. She’d knock on doors and demand change from the people who could provide that kind of support. 

It rarely works and not much had changed since she was a child, but she hoped merely talking about it would be enough to open some eyes. 

“They are,” she said with a soft smile on her face. “Especially since they’re in their sixties. They could never retire and turn their backs on those in need.” A rare pair who meant more to her than most people living on this planet. Lifting a brow at the mention of his pup, she couldn’t help but beam. “I didn’t know you had a dog. What kind is she?” She asked questions in the hope that it would bring him joy to speak about her in a time that was so grim.

“My father was the same way — always working, never really resting. He was never that kind of man who didn’t know how to help, you know?” He spoke with fondness about his father, with admiration, and it had always been evident in the way his eyes shined when he reminisced about him. Even though it had been many years since he’d passed on, Simon thought of him constantly, using him as a point of reference for what kind of man he wanted to be. His father had always been his moral compass and, even in death, he guided the man through his life as though he had never left.

A grin grew on Simon’s face as Claire asked about his dog, a bit of a chuckle falling from his lips as well. It seemed to be a much needed topic change, one of lightheartedness, one that would easily put a smile on the man’s face. He appreciated that of the woman.

“She’s a golden doodle. I took her in while I was recovering from some injuries after my service ended. She’s, oh gosh... six now. Vita, she’s my best friend, done a lot for me in terms of keeping me healthy.”

          If anything, Corinne was thankful he had not sugarcoated for her. It wasn’t the time to and Corinne had seen man-made disasters that rocked her far more than a nature one would. She nodded, her mind trying to comprehend, or even paint a picture of what might have been happening outside of those walls. “I had seen some on my way here… I went by the pile up to see if I could help anyone, but I’m not sure if this is one of those ‘the more the merrier’ moments,” the blonde passed a hand through her blonde locks nervously before crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

          It had been taking all of her to keep herself somewhat centered during this lock down of sorts and she knew it was only the beginning. Shifting on one foot to the other, Corinne ran her mind the people she could ask him about, but came out empty, her very small radius of people she cared about were mostly under one roof outside of Beau and if Beau wasn’t there, than there was no telling where or how he was. “Did you find your friends already? Your family maybe? There were some that came here together, but mostly have already left.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” he began, ducking his head for a moment while he spoke before raising it to maintain eye contact with the woman. “If I was in a wreck like that, I’d want someone to do so much as sit with me once I was safe. But I guess it all depends on the type of person, you know?” As a first responder, even one that was fairly new, Simon had always admired the willingness of the general public to help out in a situation of high stress. Even if they just wanted to see if there was anything they could do, Simon always appreciated the check-in, because he knew there were times when civilian help was necessary.

Simon nodded and pressed his lips together, thinking about the messages he had sent to his siblings. He hadn’t received a lot of feedback before the phone lines went down, but then again, on a good day they didn’t speak all that much. “I don’t have a very big circle, most of my friends are people who work in the public sector, so they’re either on duty or have better things to worry about. As for family, both my parents have passed on, but I’ve been in contact with my siblings. No worries on that front.”