best in darkness

Hearing him laugh made Harow giggle herself, knowing she’d hit the nail on the head. Her mother used to always remark that she’d somehow ended up with five stubborn children, but Harlow was by far the most stubborn. Especially when she’d already thought up situations in her head and made her decision. She knew at times her stubbornness was a problem, especially when she was so stubborn about never staying in one place for too long. Such had been the reason for her last breakup, and something that had caused issues with her family. She missed home, sure, but the pain of missing home was worth it if she didn’t have to be home. 

She smiled in a silent thank you when he wished her a happy birthday, blinking up at the stars. She loved other people’s birthdays- she never forgot birthdays and loved celebrating and giving presents, but her own birthday, she was less keen about. When he explained that his mom was the best person in his life, she pressed her lips together with a nod, wholeheartedly agreeing. “Mine too” her voice was soft, God, she missed her mom. Harlow couldn’t imagine living away from her mom either, yet she’d been doing it for eight years. 

At the topic of her brothers, Harlow genuinely laughed out loud, more so because she and Andrew had only recently rekindled their relationship. “It’s complicated” She explained through a laugh. “I’ve got three bothers, Jamie and Andrew, who are here, are older. Jamie’s been my best friend since- God- since I can even remember.” She shrugged, knees pulled up to her chest, watching the waves roll against each other. “He’s just always there. Always checking in. Would text me every day when I lived in California- we’re just so alike. And we’re close in age, so we were just always together.” Harlow said, “My brother Andrew’s the oldest. He- we…just started getting along.” She snickered. “We clashed our entire lives, up until now pretty much. Like fought all the time.” Harlow confessed. “But I always knew he loved me- and he never stopped being a good brother. He protects our family.” She explained. Despite the fact that they grew up at odds with each other, she’d never lost her faith in him. “What about you?” She wondered, “Do you have any siblings?” 

Sion felt Harlow’s sorrow at being so far away from her own mother, and felt grateful that he didn’t have to go through something like that. For as long as he could remember, even when his grandparents were alive, it was him and Hannah against the world. Hannah loved her son fiercely and Sion loved her right back, willing to move heaven and earth just to see her smile. He wished he hadn’t put her through such hell, forcing them to uproot and to call him by a different name, but she adapted and told him all she wanted was for him to be happy. The brunette man owed his mother the world. He wanted to squeeze her knee, or her hand, or something, but he was still mostly a stranger. Belatedly, he realized he’d never introduced himself, and offered her a strong hand, beach sand still on it. “I’m Sion, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Complicated. The lawyer knew the world only too well. Her voice is gentle and soft as it fills the space between them, the waves providing a pleasant backing to her story. “At least you guys are talking now.” Her question makes him look down for a moment, contemplating the recent events in his life. “I have one sister. She’s almost eleven years younger than me, and we were raised apart...so we’re not close.”

Sion divides his life into two parts. There’s the before, and then the after. Before he betrayed the mob who’d taken him in. After he left with his mother for a different life in Wilmington. Before he’d escaped from a path so dark the parts of his life steeped in it are too chaotic for him for unpack. After he’d been able to become a different person, to salvage some of Owen and turn him into Sion, a new man.

tw: references to violence

A couple of weeks after a piece of paper had shaken the lawyers world, Sion was taking all of his frustrations out on a punching bag. He paid a decent price in order to have a whole room to himself at his local gym, the room ringed with mirrors, a small stack of weights in the corner. His too long brown hair pulled into a short ponytail at the back of his head, the lawyer seemed to have made it his mission to attack a ceiling-hung punching bag with all the savagery in his system. Sans punching gloves, Sion’s large fists sported only hand wraps, his body in gym shorts and sneakers. His thin tank top had long since molded to his body due to the amount of sweat he was putting out, and anger is what fueled him.

He didn’t even know if he was allowed to feel angry, but he was. Angry that his past was coming back to haunt him. Angry that he felt like he’d be looking over his shoulder all his life. Angry that his sacrifice, the murder of his loyalty and his pride to escape from the hell he lived in, had apparently been for nothing. Angry at the fact that maybe, when he’d warned the ones he trusted as family most, they’d told on him. And now his freedom and personal security were victim.

Owen Baker, the person that Sion James used to be, was wiry and strong. He was fiercely loyal, popular in his school despite all of the students poor backgrounds. He made decent grades, he would argue you to death, and he was an all around liked guy.

Then came the Bastiano Mob.

He’d always heard rumors in school about the mob with influence all around his derelict town, and had seen members doing their due diligence. Then one day, he helped a man who could’ve been his fathers age carry some grocery bags to his car. When someone tried to rush the other man Owen physically body blocked him, right before a bang sounded in the parking lot. Another man came from nowhere, polishing his gun off, and the man who’s grocery bags he’d carried asked if he’d like a job. Turns out the man he’d protected was Niccolo Bastiani, the brother of the head of the Bastiano mob, and his life hit a turning point. 

The money was too good, to be frank, to turn down. Added to the protection Owen and his mom would receive, it was a no brainer to get involved, even while keeping it a secret from her. His grades dropped to high C’s, a far cry from the high marks he used to have before, and his public persona changed to the resident bad boy. Even though he started only as a runner, there was an ever slippery slope of violence that the job put him into. Owen saw things he’d never wanted to see, done things he never thought he would do. Hard work hardened his eyes, ruined his soul, and roughened his hands. Scars still littered his body now, marks that he always chalked up to a rough and tumble childhood when with his amours. Then he turned 20. He was in community college, trying to make something of his life, when he realized how much it was going to be lost. Owen wanted freedom dammit, and he was going to get it.

So he planned. He studied. He presented it to his head of the mob and his wish was granted, and Owen worked damn hard to get himself off. Fifteen people. F i f t e e n. Thats how many people he told. He heard about the bus on the radio, driving in a U-Haul with his mom in the passenger seat. And here he was, eight years later, beating the shit out of a punching bag.

It was Sion who lived with Owen’s past, Sion whose new life was now threatened by the things he’d done.

 And it pissed him the hell off.

Something cut through the haze of Sion’s thought, the awareness that his fist was no longer connecting with anything. It was, in fact, stuck halfway inside of the bag. Using his other hand to anchor on the outside of the bag, Sion pulled bleeding knuckles from the destroyed exercise equipment. He stood, chest heaving, music pouring into his head from earbuds, and made a promise to himself. A promise that he would not let his past fuck with his future.

“it’s because I was thinking about too many things” She explained, shrugging a shoulder. It was too complicated to explain the web that was her past, or the way sometimes her mind was too much for her to bear. Plus, she’d probably scare him away- the inner workings of her mind contrasted so sharply with the sunshine girl people met first. Harlow couldn’t help it, she’d always just assumed her mind moved faster than everyone else’s, which was fine, until she got too lost in it, thought about too many things, thought about her father too much.

When he mentioned that his birthday had recently passed, Harlow smiled a little. “Well happy belated birthday,” She said through a crooked grin. “Taurus? We’re stubborn as Hell” Harlow shook her head, leaning back on her hands in the sand. She liked talking to this guy, whoever he was. He was pulling her out of her own mind, and sometimes, she needed that when she couldn’t pull herself out. “That’s nice that your mom did that, does she live here?” Harlow felt a tug at the bottom of her heart. “My mom lives up in Maine. That’s where my family is from. But two of my brothers and my neice live here.” She explained, in the simplest way possible, expertly glossing over all the complicated a fuck things that had been going on in her life in the past few months. 

Thinking too many things Sion could relate to. About the future, about avoiding the past, about his job. About the people he’d left behind. Somehow, despite being so fresh in their meeting, he felt a bit of a kinship with the woman who also had a lot on her mind.

A laugh breaks through his mouth when she calls him stubborn causes his eyes to flick to the sand before returning to hers. One arm stretched, supported by an upturned knee, the handsome man listens to his newfound ocean partner. “Thank you. Happy birthday to yourself as well. And you’re not the first to say that.” The memory of Amy Taylor, calling him a stubborn ass of a man in his office first thing in the morning, flyaway pieces of her hair still sticking to her face, makes a warm smile stretch across his freshly shaved chin. “She moved here with me when I came, eight years ago. That’s got to be hard - my mom is the best person in my life. I can’t imagine living far away from her.” Sincerity rings his tone, as he means what he says. “But you’re brothers being nearby sounds great.”

Hesitantly, he tosses an idea around his mind before thinking screw it and saying it out loud. “From your voice, I can tell you love your brothers. What is it that makes them so great? I mean, at being good older brothers.” The inflection in his tone stems from his own insecurities, recently founded, about being a good big brother for Abbie. The weight of his responsibility to her wasn’t something he carried lightly.

Harlow nodded, resting her elbows on her knees. This was how she celebrated. That technically wasn’t true though. Andrew had gotten a cake somewhere, and they did the whole singing and candles thing, but it was more for Sophie’s amusement than Harlow’s. Still, it’d been nice, especially since she was fairly new to Wilmington, and the number of people she knew was limited. “No, no, I celebrated.” She said with a laugh, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m not sad.” It was a feeble explanation, especially because this stranger had caught her crying, but she wasn’t sad, and she hadn’t had a bad birthday. 

“I just…grew up by the beach and I go to the ocean each year on my birthday- to think about what I did at 27, and the things I want to do being 28. I just think about all the things…” Harlow trailed off, her blue eyes darting over to her companion briefly, to see if he thought she sounded literally insane. His expression was neutral, so he was either hiding it or wasn’t judging her, but regardless, she continued. “And sometimes thinking causes a lot of feelings.” Harlow shook her head slightly, combing her fingers through her hair. “Sorry- I- that doesn’t make much sense. It’s er- hard to explain.” 

“Your tears tell a different story.” Sion says gently, but leaves it at that. She owes him nothing, not honest answers and not answers at all. He turns his gaze to the ocean, lets the move of the waves calm him. That was why he liked to stroll along the beach, to feel the soothing parts of nature. I just think about all of the things. Here he and the beautiful blonde stranger differed. Sion liked to think about the future, and the future only. The past was a road he didn’t like to think of.

“No, it’s okay. I get what you mean.” Sion offers her a small smile, meant to be comforting. “I turned 34 a couple days ago and didn’t tell anyone. My mom baked me a cake like she always does, and we watched movies together because of tradition, but. Yeah. Birthdays come with a lot of feelings too.”

Harlow swallowed when he bounced the question back as easily as she had first asked it. She probably shouldn’t go around asking things she didn’t even want to answer, but then again, Harlow was bad at learning her lesson when it came to pretty much anything. She let her eyes slide up his frame, very aware that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her cheeks flushed automatically and her eyes dropped again, noticing then he wasn’t wearing shoes either, but  neither was she. He seemed a world taller than her, but then again, she was in the sand and he was all but standing over her. 

She shrugged, waving off his apology for scaring her. He hadn’t meant to, of course, and she was so wrapped up in her own mind that she hadn’t even been paying attention to her surroundings. Sighing, she twisted her lips to the left, hesitating a beat before answering his question. “I’m celebrating my birthday.” She knew that definitely wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting from her, but she couldn’t come up with another response on her feet, and she sucked at lying anyway. 

The big blue eyes staring up at him were unsure, and it made Sion wish that they didn’t look so imposing. He liked his stature, liked being a mountain of a man with ropey muscles being the craggy peaks on his landscape, and huge hands, but it meant he wasn’t exactly the cuddliest looking person you’ve ever seen. The woman’s flush, however, the once over sliding along his frame, at least eased his conscience about seeming dangerous (and he truly didn’t mean her any harm).

“Your birthday, huh?” Making a quick decision, Sion took a seat next to her, the dusk throwing light off the hard packed muscles that flexed with the movement. He stretched one leg out ahead of him and turned quizzical hazel eyes to the blonde, his overly long hair brushing his shoulders as the wind went through it. “That’s an awful lot of tears for your birthday. Did you not celebrate?”

It was always great to see Sion, even though it was always a little bittersweet. The person held no hard feelings toward him after their breakup, but it still stung like hell knowing he had broken up with her, instead of the other way around. She knew it was terrible to think that way, yet she did think that way from time to time and didn’t regret it one little bit. She was a sensitive person and was usually hurt by the smallest of things.  Even with this thought lingering in the back of her head, it was usually nice to see him.

So once he was close enough to give her a hug, the person hugged him back - a strong hug because she wasn’t one to half ass anything - and then pulled away and turned to face him. “You really shouldn’t say things like that, you’re gonna inflate my ego, and it’s big enough as it is,” she teased him with a wink. Not wanting to sit alone she gestured toward the seat in front of her. “It’s nice to see you, though. If you’re eating alone you should totally sit here and chat with me a little. I’ve been working for about an hour and could use the company.”   

Absently, he wondered if she was a better, different place than she’d been before, but Sion didn’t put any stock in it. He was already putting himself out there with Amy, and he was a private person. Could he afford to get involved heart wise with Amada again? Sion didn’t know. All he knew was that her grin still made his heart warm, and seeing her always brightened his day.

“You deserve all of it, Amarose.” He rumbled with a warm look in his eye, calling her the nickname that he used to use while touching her cheek lightly. When she gestures to the seat in  front of her Sion gamely slides in, hoping they would bring the food to their table. “I would love to. What have you been up to? Still writing, I hope?”

Harlow sat on the sand, birthday girl, her knees pulled up to her chest. The sun had set long ago, and the darkness of the sky melted seamlessly into the ocean. The ocean. The same ocean that she played in as a child- the same ocean that took her father- the same ocean that pulled her back again and again. She pressed the button on her phone- 8:49pm. 21 minutes until she was born- until she’d been in the world 28 years, and been without her father for 19 of them. She always secluded herself on her birthday, despite anything her friends or family planned. She always found a place for herself- to reflect on the person she’d become, and the person she still wanted to be. To talk to the stars- to talk to her Father, up in the night, beyond the oblivion, still waiting for him to answer her.

She had her elbows resting on her knees when she felt the sand shift, and hardly realized her cheeks were wet. Was it dangerous to be on the beaches in Wilmington at night? She suspected not. In Cumberland, they always warned teenagers not to visit the beaches at night- but everyone in town knew they were safe. She felt fear flutter in her stomach, but it settled quickly. “Jesus” Harlow exhaled in relief, seeing the person who had made the sand shift, “You scared me.” Shaking her head, she skated her pinky under her lower lash line, wiping her eyes. “What’re you even doing here?” She asked, knowing they could’ve asked Harlow the very same question.

Sion had never seen the blonde before, but from the look on her face the current visit to the beach was not a happy occasion. The shorter woman looked stricken with sadness, but he didn’t know if she’d be up to talking about it or not. “Sorry for scaring you,” The lawyer told her, hands stuffed into his jean pockets. People that knew him in normal life would have struggles reconciling the image now to the man in nearly bespoke suits. His jeans were well worn and he wasn’t wearing shoes or a shirt, the curves of his rigid muscles on easy display. 

“I went for a walk to clear my head. What’re you doing here?” Sion asked, hitting the question back at her.

                                “Dude, if you are fucking a woman with kids your age she is a fucking gilf,” Alex laughed, looking at his friend amused by his confession. No one went round fucking women that old - not unless it was some weird kink. “I think you’re misunderstanding the term milf, like Athena, you know my friend?” Alex started focusing on this topic way more than necessary but it was easy. “Now, that is a milf if ever I’ve known one. That’s the kind of standard of milf I’m talking about, you get me?” At his next question Alex rolled his eyes. “Stop overthinking it and fucking drink.” He lifted his glass and shook it so the liquid was splashing over the sides. “This is whiskey, made for drinking, so we’re drinking. It’s that simple.”

Catching the rosy red flush across Sion’s cheek, Taylor was just glad that she could lift his spirits. Knowing him to be prone to self-doubt, the blonde often tried to aid his confidence in any way that she could. Taylor had heard talk around town that Sion was particularly hard to approach due to his tall, dark, and handsome demeanor that often wore a scowl, but Taylor had always taken a liking to the ones who were rougher around the edges. Perhaps it was due to her kind nature, or perhaps it was due to her secret rebellious side from her youth, but she usually found ways to pull walls down, brick by brick. Sion, Calvin, and Spencer were living proof of that.

“Oh, hush,” Taylor shook her head at his discouraging words about his future. “You know, six years ago, I was saying the exact same thing. And look where I am now.” Before she’d come out to the public, Taylor thought herself to be doomed to a life in the closet, settling for marrying a man out of obligation rather than love. But life could surprise you. “You’ll find the one. And make beautiful, tall, brooding babies,” she giggled at her playful poke.

“I, too, was an only child,” Taylor nodded, taking a sip of her water and agreeing with the man. “My wife had two brothers but, unfortunately, one of them died in the military.” Most people knew Spencer’s history, so she didn’t feel like it was wrong revealing such a detail. It wasn’t secret or anything. “All I know is I used to long for a sibling bond. Hopefully theirs flourishes,” she indicated her children. “I already see it in Hadley and Kawai.” Hadley was notoriously protective over her slightly younger brother – almost to an annoying point for the young boy. 

When questioned about her youngest daughter’s name, Taylor smiled. “It was actually in the running when we were pregnant with Hadley. The other contenders were Harper, Sawyer, Eden, and Luella, but when I laid eyes on her, Paisley just fit the best.”

Sion knew how those in town saw him. A good lawyer, to be sure, kind to those who needed it, but intimidating, brooding, good for a fuck but not good to emotionally invest in. It hurt him (because how could it now?) but at least his friends knew the real him. He just hoped that someday someone would decide he was worth a deeper look, thought he doubted the day would ever come. Instead, he’d seek comfort in his friends, where sitting across the table from Taylor’s warm smile made him feel like he worth at least a little.

“This is true,” he tells her, a smile warming his face. Taylor was a wonderful soul all the way down to her toes and nothing made him happier than to see her get the ending she more than deserved. Sion only wished someone would someday smile at him like Spencer smiled at Taylor. “I don’t want brooding babies.” The brunette man laughed, the sound a boom from his deep register. “I want happy babies. Happy, relaxed babies that know that their parents love them unconditionally...and that their grandmother will spoil them. She brings it up almost every time we go out to lunch now, you know.” Sion said, referencing his mother.

“You’re a flirt,” she said once more, playfully sticking out her tongue at the male. Perhaps it was just her, but she didn’t recall any time she’d seen him where he wasn’t flirtin with her. Naturally, she believed that perhaps it was because she was naturally pretty. Therefore, she liked to think that he was like that with everyone — if only to appease her own worries. “That’s even more impressive. Did you get scholarships or were these paid out of your own pocket?”

“I am.” Sion agrees, uninterested in lying about himself. “But it comes from a good place, I swear.” He wanted to make a jibe about being a good guy deep down inside, but he wasn’t even sure if he believed it himself - though he was trying, so hard, to make up for the darkness of his past. The blonde’s question edged closer to the truth of the past Sion liked to hide, but he’d been lying about it for years, so the words fell from his mouth with a fake ring of honesty that no one would be able to recognize. “I worked my way through, but I was the lucky recipient of a private scholarship. I’m grateful for it everyday.”

           Sebastian nodded, he could read the signs of lacking proper sleep as they clung to his friend’s features. However, it didn’t quite seem like cause for concern. He’d seen his friend’s work ethic lead to sleepless nights in the past, and Sion always seemed to pull himself out of it just fine once he polished off the case. It would pass, he presumed, and so he did not dwell on it. “Er,” his eyebrows furrowed. Having to think, what had been going on in Taitt land? “S’pose not all that much, man. Emmeline has been a bit out a sorts so i’ve been worried,” not that Sebastian worrying was anything new. Especially not regarding his younger sister. “An’ women things.” Women things? It was hard not to laugh at himself, even making it sound remotely like he was ‘keeping his options open’ when Sion knew too well he wasn’t the type. Basically anyone knew, really, who sat and talked to the man for more than just an evening. He might as well have had hopeless romantic tattooed across his forehead at some point in his life. “Work is good,” he tacked on for good measure. Though, part of him wanted to try to verbalize the rollercoaster he’d been on with Aubrey. He just didn’t necessarily know if that was in their wieldhouse yet, talking about girl troubles. “Though i’ve been thinkin’ this might be my last year at the Oceanic." 

“Women things?” Sion raised a brow at this friend, translating the ambiguous words coming from his friend. It was Sion who had the player image, the willing to jump into bed perception, not Bash. He was too good, deep down inside, and when his body got involved his heart was already committed. Maybe Owen had been like that. The different Sion, the bright eyed one that existed before he’d started working for the mob, was more like Bash. “What kind of Aubrey things?” the big man emphasized, his ginger friends object of affection something Sion knew about, though wasn’t up to date.

“Really?” Bash had been at the Oceanic so long that Sion associated the place with his friend, so the news caught him off guard. “Where are you going to go instead? Still in town, I hope.” And the lawyer really did hope so. It would suck to lose his friend to somewhere else.

AMY: Isn't that illegal? Or did I confuse it with something else?

AMY: No, it's okay, I don't mind hearing about it. I wish things like that didn't happen, but that's a different thing.

SION: He's careful. It's one of those things where it's never said outright, but heavily implied. Nothing that would stick in court. I wouldn't even try to fight it out.

SION: Same here, but we can't fix the world. Just try to make our corner of it better.