𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙳 𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁.

“ no, ” lake says immediately, shaking her head once. “ no, that’s — ” she stops, because, well, what is she arguing against? the news doesn't click right away. even with summer explaining, but the shock is so great that lake can't wrap her head around the sadness and confusion that muddles with her brain. she almost wants to laugh out loud, “ you’re joking, ” she says, but her voice cracks halfway through, betraying her instantly. “ summer, that’s not funny. ” summer’s expression only crumples more and suddenly the air feels too thin. “ no. ” the word comes out immediately. instinctively. lake is already shaking her head. “ no, no, no — ” she stands too quickly, knocking the popcorn bowl off her lap. kernels scatter across the floor. neither of them notices. “ he was fine. he was totally fine. ” except she doesn’t actually know that. she hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. months. maybe longer. and that realization lands like a punch to the ribs. her breathing stutters. “ did he — ” her voice catches, the acid that builds in her throat threatens to tighten. “ was he alone? ” and there it is. the question she didn’t mean to ask. the one that hurts the most. because for all the anger. all the disappointment. all the years spent wishing he’d been someone different — the thought of him dying alone is unbearable. lake presses the heels of her palms against her eyes. hard. trying to stop whatever is building there. “ god, ” she laughs suddenly, except it sounds nothing like laughter. “ i hate him. ” the confession falls out before she can stop it. raw. broken. her hands drop. eyes glassy now. confused. angry. heartbroken in a way she never expected to be. because she mourned him years ago too. didn’t she? she thought she had. and yet: “ i thought there’d be more time. ” the words come quietly. small and almost childlike. and that’s the thing she can’t get past. not that he was a good father. not that they were close. but somewhere, buried beneath all the disappointment, lake had always believed there would be one more chance. one more conversation. one more day for him to become someone else. and now there won’t be. and knowing something is coming doesn't make it hurt less when it finally arrives. lake feels her eyes burn. not from surprise, but from the finality. slowly, she looks over at her sister. really looks at her. past the tears, past the grief and the confusion, and suddenly, lake's own feelings become secondary because summer is crying. summer. the woman who'd spent most of her life holding everything together with duct tape and sheer determination. without thinking, lake shifts across the couch and wraps both arms around her tightly, as if she's trying to hold them together at the seams.

@softglws (sanem)

sanem knows better than to step between two men who look seconds away from making a bad decision. instead, she stops just short of a few other people who's attention are also on the men, off to the side, arms folding loosely across her chest as her gaze moves between them. one angry stranger, and one vaguely familiar face she hasn't seen in years but recognizes anyway. luke sullivan. well, that explains some of it. “ interesting, ” she says evenly, her tone calm enough to contrast the tension hanging in the air. “ because from where i'm standing, it looks like something's going on. ” the other man mutters something under his breath, and sanem doesn't even look at him. her attention stays on luke. he's the one she knows, even only slightly. for a moment, she says nothing. then, eventually she asks: “ are you planning on hitting him? because if the answer's yes, can i recommend reconsidering. ” blunt and direct, because if he is, she'd rather know now. a small breeze stirs loose strands of dark hair across her cheek as she shifts her weight onto one foot. her gaze flicks briefly toward the other man. “ not for his sake. ” back to luke. “ but yours. trust me, whatever he said isn't worth spending the rest of your day regretting. ” her head tilts slightly. “ luke, right? ” the name feels strange after all these years. “ let's not make this the most interesting thing that happens in town today. ”

the second his fingers wrap around hers, lake's stomach drops, and definitely not in a bad way, not by a long shot; more in the terrifying kind of way that feels suspiciously like stepping off the edge of something and realizing halfway down that you never actually wanted to stop yourself. for a second, she just stares at their joined hands as he whispers in her ear, and her breath catches in her throat so quickly it's almost embarrassing. and worse? the very reckless part of her wants him to do it anyway. " that might actually be the hottest thing anybody's ever said to me. " her voice is light, teasing on instinct, but it lacks its usual bite because there's too much truth underneath it. when they finally reach the door, lake glances up at him quickly, her heart thudding hard enough she's convinced he can probably hear it. " y'know, " she says softly, fingers tightening around his hand before she can stop herself, " for someone who's been trying really hard to be responsible tonight ... " her gaze drifts over his face. lingering. she can't help it. hank is so fucking beautiful. " you keep saying things that make it very difficult for me to help you with that. " the smile that follows is smaller now. a little nervous, but genuine, and entirely for him. lake's heart does an embarrassing little flip the second he asks. you sure about this? the question settles somewhere deep in her chest. not because she's uncertain, but because he's giving her an out. even after everything that almost happened inside the bar. the way the space between them had nearly disappeared altogether. he's still making sure this is her choice. she just looks at him. the streetlights catch along the edges of his face, throwing soft shadows across features she's become entirely too aware of lately. the rolled sleeves. the open collar. the roughness in his voice when he's trying not to say something. the way he keeps looking at her like she's become a problem he doesn't actually want solved. the worst part is that she's pretty sure she's doing the exact same thing. warmth spreads through her despite the night air. her pulse is still running a little too fast. somewhere between nervous and excited. somewhere between terrified and hopeful. the kind of feeling that only happens when something starts mattering more than it should. her fingers curl around the strap of her purse as she sits sideways in the passenger seat, the smile softens almost as soon as it appears. her eyes find his again. steady and certain, because that's what he's shown her since they've reunited, and he deserves the same reassurance. " yeah, hank. " the answer comes with heavy assurance, without hesitation. because despite the complications. despite summer. despite the fact that none of this is supposed to make sense. she's never felt unsafe with him. not once. and that fact has become increasingly dangerous. " yeah, " she repeats, softer this time. " when it comes to you, i'm sure as hell. " the words hang between them for a moment. long enough that she can feel the weight of them. long enough that she realizes she means them. so instead, she settles back against the seat and looks up at him. really looks at him. at the conflict still written across his face. at the restraint he's been trying so hard to hold onto all night. and for the first time, her expression gentles completely. " are you sure? " she asks quietly. there's no teasing left in the question now. because if they're doing this — whatever this is — she wants him to choose it too.

" don’t you worry, ” lake says softly, her smile still lingering as she looks down at the flowers again. “ your reputation as sedona’s grumpiest man is completely safe with me. ” when she looks up at him again she still smiling pure warmth, and it's not even because of the flowers themselves — though they’re beautiful — but hank noticed and maybe that’s the part making her chest ache and flutter. she can't get over the notion that this wasn’t grabbed thoughtlessly on the way over. this was chosen and put together and handled with care, which seems to be exactly the way he treats her. lake laughs softly at his groan, bright and triumphant like she’s already won something the second he starts protesting. “ come on, ” she says, clutching the flowers dramatically against her chest. “ i actually refuse to believe you’re that bad. ” her grin lingers though, softer now, more affectionate than teasing. because the thing is, she doesn’t actually care if hank’s bad at dancing. she thinks she’d like this either way. the awkwardness, the playful reluctance, the fact that he’s clearly only even considering it because it’s her asking. then she hears — ah, hell. and lake’s breath catches the second his hand reaches for hers. and god, that tiny gesture shouldn’t feel this intimate, but it does. her fingers slide into his easily, instinctively, warmth curling through her chest at the careful way he holds her hand while pulling her closer, which she can't help but give an excited giggle because she knows he won’t pull away, not at this point and especially not when he leans near her ear like that, voice low enough to send a shiver down her spine. “ one birthday exception? ” she repeats softly, smiling as she lets him tug her in closer. “ i really wore you down, huh? " but her voice has gone quieter too now, because hank’s smiling. like, actually smiling, and lake thinks that might honestly be her favourite thing she’s seen all night. ' you do realize this is exactly how you get me into trouble, ' lake tips her head back just enough to look at him properly, the string lights catching in her eyes as they sway together. the thing that started somewhere between lingering conversations, shared glances, and moments that lasted just a little too long. the thing that somehow brought them here, standing beneath string lights with his hand on her waist and her heart behaving in ways she finds increasingly inconvenient. for a moment, her gaze drops. to where his hand rests against her side. to the easy way he's holding her. to all the reasons this should feel strange. yet, it doesn't. that's probably the problem. when she looks back up at him, that familiar flutter returns immediately. " y'know, " she says softly, her fingers curling a little more securely against his shoulder, " i feel like i should point out that i ain't actually forcin' you to be here. " her smile grows, " you could've escaped at any point. you could've said no to the dance. you could've stopped buying me flowers. " the words are teasing, but there's something honest sitting underneath them, because for all the jokes, for all the flirting, for all the ways she keeps trying to make this feel lighter than it is — hank keeps choosing to stay. and god help her, she notices every single time. her gaze lingers on his for a moment longer before she leans in slightly, close enough that only he can hear her over the music. " i think, " she begins, voice quieter now, " you might be blamin' the wrong person for your trouble. " the smile that follows is impossible to hide. it's bright, fond, and just a little bit gone for him. playfully, she creates some space between them, pretending to get ready to walk away as she says with a sigh, " but if you feel so strongly about it and don't want any trouble, that's fine, i can scoot on over here and leave you be ... "

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[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?

lake’s laughing when it happens. head tipped back against the couch, one socked foot hooked over the armrest, halfway through a story that’s gotten progressively more dramatic with every retelling. “ — and then she looks me dead in the eye and says, ‘ ma’am, that’s not how coupons work, ’ which, first of all, rude — ” summer’s curse almost doesn't registers. but it does, and lake can't help but scold playfully: “ language, ” gwhile rinning as she reaches for the another handful of popcorn. with an uninterested gaze, lake watches her sister get up, drying her hands and reaching for her phone before her eyes flicker back towards the tv, which is playing a marathon of early 200's romcoms. right now, it's leap year, and she doesn’t think much of the call her sister is on. instead, she steals another handful of popcorn. though, it wasn't long until she notices the silence. not complete silence, but it felt like the kind of silence that feels wrong. the kind that pulls at the back of your neck. lake glances over her shoulder and sees summer’s standing there frozen. phone pressed to her ear, and lake can see all the colour draining from summer's face in real time. immediately, something tightens in lake’s chest and the lightheartedness in her aura quickly disappears. concern and worry take over. “ summer? ” no response. the conversation on the other end continues. and suddenly every possibility starts firing through lake’s brain at once. a car accident. someone got hurt. but who? when? she’s already halfway sitting up before the call even ends. “ summer, ” she says again, more serious this time. “ what happened? ” the second the phone lowers, lake knows. she doesn’t know what. but she knows it’s bad. really bad. and for the first time all evening, the trailer feels too small. finally, summer’s voice cracks. that was the hospital ... lake’s stomach drops and twists. it’s dad. and for one stupid, irrational second she actually thinks — dad’s in the hospital. dad’s sick. dad needs something. then: he’s gone. and everything stops. but, lake just stares at summer. the words don’t make sense. they hit her ears but refuse to settle anywhere else. “ what? ” it comes out barely above a whisper. she blinks. once. then twice. waiting for the sentence to rearrange itself into something else. it doesn’t. she waits for summer to yell out sike! with a laugh and the shake of her head that she was able to fool lake so easily. she doesn't. “ what do you mean, he’s gone? ” her voice is sharper now. lake feels confused and desperate because surely there’s another explanation. another version of this conversation where summer doesn’t look like that. where the room doesn’t suddenly feel tilted. “ ... gone where? like, he was emitted and they fuckin' lost him? ” it wouldn't be the first time their father was found drunk on the side of the road somewhere in the streets of sedona and taken to the hospital, only to wake up hours later and leave without speaking to a nurse or a doctor.

sanem’s smile softens a little at the obvious excitement in miriam’s voice and lets the warmth settle easy between them as she starts walking alongside her toward the barn. “ thank you, ” she says proudly, glancing briefly out over the stretch of land as morning light spills across the fencing and pasture. “ i’m really proud of it. proud of my family. the people who came before us, of course. they all worked hard to keep this land the way it is. untouched where it matters. ” a small breath leaves her, thoughtfully. “ sedona has been changing so fast recently, that i think there’s something comforting about knowing there are still places here that feel cared for. protected. ” a breeze moves through loose strands of her hair as they walk, carrying the familiar scent of hay, cedar, and sun-warmed earth with it. somewhere nearby, one of the horses snorts softly from inside the barn. “ you're from colorado, if i heard correctly? ” sanem asks while dark brows lift slightly with interested, and if i heard correctly, speaking of what she's heard about the new veterinarian through the grape vine. “ how're you adjusting to the lack of mountains? i mean, sedona has the red rocks, but nothing compares to those colorado peaks. ” sanem whistles lowly before she nudges open the barn door with her shoulder, the inside cooler and shadowed compared to the warmth outside. immediately, a few heads lift over stall doors as the barn door swings open. sanem exhales a soft laugh under her breath. she moves naturally through the aisle, slowing every few feet to brush a hand against a nose or neck leaning toward her attention. “ this is atlas, ” she says, motioning toward a broad chestnut gelding who watches miriam curiously from his stall. “ he’s our gentle giant. sweet as anything, but convinced he deserves constant attention. if you stop petting him too soon, he takes it very personally. ” her gaze shifts farther down the aisle toward a quieter mare lingering near the back of her stall. “ and that’s juniper, ” her voice softens slightly at the mention. “ she’s shy. one of our newest additions, so she’s still figuring everyone out. ” before much more can be said, the unmistakable sound of hurried hooves echoes through the barn. sanem barely has time to glance over before a small donkey comes trotting confidently into the aisle like she owns the place. another laugh slips from her, warmer this time. “ this character that's just shown up to be nosey — ” she gestures toward the donkey with fond exasperation, “ is none other than cricket. our welcoming committee, bodyguard, and full-time menace. she likes to personally inspect all visitors. ”

lake’s expression softens immediately at the sigh in summer’s voice. not defensive anymore, because underneath the teasing and the kitten and the lipstick marks and the ridiculousness of the word caunt, she knows what this really is: stress, exhaustion, too many things already sitting heavy on summer’s shoulders. the kitten purrs loudly in her arms, completely unaware he’s become the center of a custody negotiation. “ okay, first of all, ” lake says quietly, scratching beneath his chin, “ i bought the fancy litter, ” she adds, like that somehow fixes everything. “ the girl at the pet store said it traps odours and honestly she seemed passionate enough that i believed her immediately. ” but then summer says it. it’s me or the cat. and lake stills just slightly. not because she thinks summer’s being cruel — she doesn’t — but because something about hearing her say will’s apartment twists unexpectedly in her chest. she tries not to let it show. lake shifts the kitten into one arm so she can reach out with the other, fingers brushing lightly against summer’s wrist. “ i’m not pickin’ a cat over you. ” her voice is gentler than usual, the joking stripped back for a second. “ i just … ” she exhales quietly, glancing down at the kitten curled against her. “ i saw him and he looked so pathetic and weirdly angry at the world and i thought — ” her mouth curves faintly, sad around the edges now, “ yeah. i know that guy. ” a small silence settles after that. then lake looks back up at her sister, eyes softer. “ and for the record, ” she adds carefully, “ i don’t want you to feel like you have to leave here either. ” there’s more she could say. about will. about the apartment. about the fact that summer saying if she had to go back somehow sounded less certain than it used to. but lake doesn’t push. instead, she lifts the kitten slightly toward her sister again, hopeful despite herself. “ look at his face, summer, ” she murmurs. “ he’s literally unemployed. he's just a baby! ”

END OF THREAD.