summer - stained

unnoticed   by   him,   she's   sure,   is   the   wrinkled   forehead   that   has   nothing   to   do   with   the   variety   of   pastries   at   hand   and   everything   to   do   with   his   words.   granulated   sugar   sticking   to   digits,   bomboloni   selected   from   the   box   with   equal   parts   carefulness   and   anticipation.   “   you're   into   subtitles?   ”   inquiry   posed   around   the   first   bite   of   the   baked   good.   only   realizes   the   issue   in   lack   of   napkins   once   crystalized   sugar   sticks   to   the   corners   of   her   lips.   no   napkin,   no   drink,   this   is   what   lack   of   time   management   rewards   her   with.   fingers   brush   away   at   the   evidence   of   the   sweet.   “   that   surprises   me.   you   didn't   give   me   that   vibe,   ”   tongue   melts   away   the   sugar   collected   from   her   thumb,   finger   leaving   her   mouth   with   a   pop.   “   but,   what   do   i   know?   clearly   i   read   you   entirely   wrong   that   night.   ”   under   breath   comment   that   she   had   no   control   over.   glances   over,   almost   to   verify   he   didn't   hear   her,   eyes   catching   the   squinch   of   his   own.   groans,   loud   enough   to   receive   a   sidelong   inspection   from   a   body   few   feet   away,   which   she   responds   to   with   a   cheeky   smile.   “   seriously,   stop   squinting   your   eyes!   ”   would   physically   prop   his   eyes   back   to   the   natural   position   but   she   doesn't   want   to   touch   him   with   candied   fingers.   she   shouldn't   want   to   touch   him   at   all.   she   does,   though.   one   half bare leg   extending   from   underneath   her   to   thump   against   his   folded   ones. 

The beach is less of a beach and more of a collection of rocks encompassing a small stoney shore, but it's beautiful all the same. It's less crowded than Marina Grande, but at the golden hour of sunset, there are of course still folks enjoying the water and the views. Shae's not looking to swim, anyway, instead taking a leisurely stroll along the rocks, looking for a nice place to sit and... think, she supposes. Maybe that's not the right idea, maybe she doesn't want to think, maybe she wants to turn her brain off for a moment. But when and how is she supposed to sort through everything she's yet to figure out about her life? Talking to Giulia again had only left her more unsettled, bringing up her guilt and her shame for running, her ineptitude in coming up with an answer to her problems only leaving her more frustrated. The water will help, she thinks. If not to think, then to calm her. That anxiety she's had ever since she left Marseilles is squeezing her ribcage again, and as nice as it's been to have days to herself, now she can only think of Elliott again. What is he thinking? Would he answer if she called right now? Would she want him to? Lost in her thoughts, she only just notices another figure on the rocks before she comes up on, recognizing him by the profile of his face. "Felix." She says the word with some surprise in her voice, though it's a welcome one. She hadn't been sure she'd run into him again, but with how small the island's been feeling lately, she'd hoped it was the case.

a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... feels silly to cling to a piece of childhood media right now. still, he does. as if luke skywalker defeating his own father a million lightyears away makes his own problems small. a temporary refuge in his mind. at the end of the day, he still has to face the mess he's made of himself. he's about to turn further away when she speaks again, the nickname so startling he looks up in shock. a mistake, of course, because he can see how open she's being. a few weeks ago, before all of this, it'd have made him feel on top of the world. like he could have it all: the girl, the best friend, the island itself. rhys should know better to hope for silly things like that. and now, he didn't want it. he wanted her ire. he wanted hatred and blame. he wanted whatever flame anyone saw in him to be put to rest once and for all. never ending solar eclipse. " maybe the rhys you remember was. " little him, baby him who'd reached out to her and ignored the wary looks she gave his way. a rhys who was still being built so there was nothing broken to fix. a rhys from a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. his jaw works. he looks away again. safety in it. an ease that he can't explain. it's the warm blanket of comfort, a dangerous one that'll wrap around him and never let go if he doesn't tear it off. right now, he doesn't want to. he enjoys the feel of wool over his eyes. " don't go over. or, you could, i can't stop you. but it won't end well. not right now. " the suggestion is amusing and awful at once. he wants to say, i don't think lani will ever be okay with it, but he can't get the words out. he can't speak for her anymore. he can't speak for mi mi, either. a situation that somehow involves him and is yet entirely out of his hands when it comes to a resolution; he hates every second of it. " magazine's better. and time. a lot of time. what you did, it wasn't right. it's not going to be better as fast as you might want it to. " is he talking to mi mi or himself ? he isn't sure right now. one of those many feelings he doesn't want to interrogate. when he looks up again, she's closer than before. he could laugh. a mirror image of the bar, when he'd been the one inching her way. was this all that years of knowing one another would end up amounting to ? taking turns approaching each other like trembling fawns. hesitation has become his new normal. when did he let that happen to himself ? there's a minute shake of his head. " no. no, you don't understand. i'm not well. i don't... " not this shit again. deep breaths. count to five. name three things around him, blah blah, yadda yadda, this thing that keeps trying to engulf him. " i don't know what's wrong with me, so you should go. talk to your reporter friend. "

there's a long beat of silence. " okay, yeah, that might be worse, actually. " different kinds of heartbreak in the world, but rhys isn't sure how one keeps going when the person they're planning to marry vanishes in the middle of the night. he wants to ask what was easier: seeing her again or the stretch of time when she'd been nothing but a figment, so thoroughly gone sometimes rhys wondered if she ever truly materialized. " how do we know she hates you ? "

               "   why   should   someone   apologize   for   telling   the   truth?   "   a   quirk   of   her   brow,   amused   by   the   way   mi mi   stutters   when   her   clear   disinterest   is   spotted   out   in   the   open.   fingers   dance   over   the   spines   of   used   book   section   before   culling   one   off   of   the   shelf,   flipping   through   it mindlessly.   "   i'd   rather   you   be   honest   then   to   ...   mmm, kiss   my   ass?   "   an   apologetic   tap   of   her   finger   against   her   lips   at   the   phrase,   murmuring   a   mute   sorry.   a   confused   tilt   of   her   head   at   the   usage   of   the   word   restless.   festivals   were meant   to   be   fun,   shouldn't   she   have been acting   overjoyed   to   have   seen   so   many   artists?   it's   quite   literally   none   of   her   business,   but something sincere flashes over her expression.   "   did   you   miss   your   favorite   artist?   "   she'd   heard   rumblings   of   drama   happening   around,   mostly   while   hanging   off   of   the   edge   of   jalila's   bed.   "   i'd   expected   you   to   look   more   ...   i   don't   know.   happy.   "

any   other   person   would   fear   for   their   life,   he's   sure,   but   it's   difficult   for   the   male   to   feel   terror   at   the   tiny   girl   on   the   other   side   of   the   door.   even   if   she   was   knocking   on   it   hard   enough   to   make   fbi   agents   embarrassed.   “   what's   the   magic   word?   ”   there's   some   thrill   at   the   opportunity   to   mess   with   her,   one   he   will   never   pass   up,   and   it's   evident   in   the   expression   on   his   face.   blame   it   on   the   little   brother   title   he's   worn   so   well   all   his   life.   like   every   other   younger   brother,   he   knows   when   to   stop   pushing.   unlocks   the   deadbolt   to   swing   open   the   door,   waving   her   in   to   his   hideaway.   “   why   are   you   here   so   early?   did   you   already   have   some   tea   or   should   i   brew   some   up   for   you?   ”   already   a   kettle   was   boiling   up   in   the   small   space   he   called   his   office,   closes   the   door   behind   them,   pointing   to   the   upper   level   of   the   bookstore. 

childhood made things easy. to be naive was to be free: it was true of how him and lani had been at the start, and it was true of his relationship with mi mi from the moment they'd met. then eighteen came like a freighter truck. adulthood, responsibility, having to come to terms with the fact that the before would never be again. his best friend for as long as he could remember would leave, the girl he wanted to be with for the rest of his life would leave. behind remained only him, picking up the pieces. empty nests and empty hearts. love that'd gone from every day interactions to texts and facetime and watching two of the most important people in his life live their own without him. " it wasn't you. " he leans against the kitchen counter. cowardice in the way he looks away. he can't face her when he's being honest; a snake eating its own tail. eye contact is supposed to be truthful, but he doesn't think he could manage both things at once. " i wasn't enough. everyone was leaving. i mean, fuck, even cam went to college. " bitter laugh escapes him. " couldn't even do that. you know i lied to everyone ? that i didn't apply because it wasn't for me. of course i applied. i just didn't get in anywhere i wanted. but i thought i could pretend. i could be good enough to pretend. i could still be me. and then when i got fired from the lighthouse, it was like a sign, wasn't it ? i'm not like you. i'm not like any of you, bee, i'm just... pieces of a person. " of course it had been him who wasn't enough. mi mi had just gotten her cord cut early, the realization forced upon her by his own hands. he'd forced lani to stay with him for ten more years, and look at all the pain he'd led her to. but then, mi mi was also in pain ( it really is you, isn't it ? the common denominator, the problem of problems ), a flaw in his logic. it didn't matter. his mind saw the truth of it. everything led back to him, his mistakes, the way his hands and his emotions and his love does nothing but destroy the people around him. " i don't think they're going to forgive you easily, if at all. i think you should make amends in small ways before going up to any of them. drop some anonymous positive reviews, recommend the restaurant around, make it sound natural. " his eyes shut, too. hand presses over his temple, feeling his head throb. like it has a pulse of its own. " cameron shouldn't have sent you here. i'm not ... well right now. "

there   weren't   many   people   around   capri   who   could   say   they've   had   a   bad   interaction   with   jahlani   swaby.   it   wasn't   in   her   nature,   they   believed,   but   that   wasn't   true.   jahlani   had   no   problem   biting   hands,   she   just   knew   honey   attracted   more   bees.   and,   really,   all   she's   ever   wanted   is   to   be   accepted   wherever   she   goes.   she   liked   being   the   local   girl   who   sat   with   the   nonnas   and   gossiped   over   espresso,   she   liked   being   the   local   girl   who   popped   her   head   into   every   neighborhood   business   asking   if   they   needed   help,   she   liked   being   the   local   girl   who   people   affectionately   rolled   their   eyes   at   and   yelled   her   name   as   she   ran   past   them.   it   was   a   better   role   than   the   mad   girl,   the   sad   girl,   the   not   sure   if   she's   wanted   girl.   doesn't   bother   with   an   answer   to   his   question,   clearly   it   was   rhetorical,   instead   keeping   her   gaze   on   the   movie.   only   when   she   feels   eyes   on   her   does   she   turn,   immediately   locking   eyes   with   him.   “   nothing.   i   told   you   i   talk   through   the   whole   movie,   that   wasn't   just   some   bullshit   thing   to   get   you   to   leave.   ”   she   did   want   him   gone.   but,   it   was   also   a   red   flag   of   hers.   which   is   why   she   preferred   to   sit   alone.   something   he   had   ruined.   “   by   the   way,   you   really   shouldn't   squint   at   the   screen.   it's   bad   for   your   eyes,   ”   breaks   the   stare   contest   first,   head   dropping   to   rummage   through   the   pastry   box   from   forno   luciani.

She gives him a buoyant laugh in return for his joke, and her smile stays to hear she'd guessed right, though she knows it's hardly a feat; everything about him reads as pursuit of past knowledge, well-read and ever-discovering, though there's something else she can't quite place. "NYU, yeah," Shae answers him, eyebrows raised in surprise, impressed that he'd guessed it so easily— maybe something about her is far more obvious than she realizes. "Though, not Tisch. Stern. I was a business major." It comes out a little clunky and awkward, mostly because she has to surmise that that part certainly isn't obvious by the look of her, and it makes sense given that she'd spent a good chunk of her twenties forgetting her degree existed. It's only been in recent years that she's started putting it to use again, researching the ins and outs of starting a business and a brand alongside studying the craft her mother left behind. She lets out a slightly wistful sigh, only the tiniest bit unsuccessful in pushing that memory back. "I can't tell whether that's good news or bad news," Shae chuckles. "On one hand, I get the feeling I might always stick out, but on the other... maybe I won't be alone." The smile she gives him is woefully earnest, spread wide and open, devoid of her usual apprehension even with the kindest of locals. "I'm glad I met you, Felix."

alana's  halfway  through  checking  her  phone  when  she  notices  a  girl  sitting  alone  against  a  low  stone  wall,  shoulders  trembling  as  she  wipes  hurriedly  at  her  cheeks.  slowing  down  almost  immediately,  her  attention  lingers  longer  than  it  probably  should,  because  there  is  something  about  seeing  someone  cry  in  a  place  that's  supposed  to  feel  this  beautiful  that  makes  her  chest  ache.  okay, alana, keep walking ... she  tells  herself,  even  as  her  feet  stubbornly  carry  her  in  the  opposite  direction,  because  apparently  she  has  never  been  particularly  good  at minding her own business   when  someone  looks  like  they  need  help.  the  blonde  slips  her  phone  into  her  beach  bag  and  approaches  carefully,  offering  the  stranger  a  soft  smile  while  leaving  enough  space  between  them  not  to  make  her  feel  cornered.  “  hey  …  “  alana  says  gently,  her  voice  losing  it's  usual  playful  edge,  “  i'm  sorry  if  this  is  completely  random,  but  are  you  okay  ?  “  she  glances  toward  the  empty  space  beside  her,  wondering  whether  sitting  down  would  feel  comforting  or  intrusive,  before  deciding  she  can  at  least  offer  the  option.  “  because  you  look  like  you  could  either  use  a  hug,  a  drink,  or  someone  to  dramatically  hate  whoever  did  this  to  you  with,  “  she  adds  with  a  tiny,  hopeful  laugh,  and  honestly—  she  can  probably  provide  all  three. 

an email was a good start. better for her to apologize to the swabys directly. the more she speaks, the more that tension leaves his shoulders. " i'll tell miel to check his e-mail. can't promise he'll accept the apology, but maybe he'll let you help. it's a start. " she doesn't need to finish the sentence: he knows. alessandro's advice rings in his ears. you need to talk to mi mi. you can't mention lani. it felt like an impossibility when they were now linked in such a way. his gaze sweeps over the bakery's kitchen. he still hasn't looked straight at her since she stepped inside. he can't; afraid he'll break apart again and this time in front of someone who knows just how ugly he can be inside, who's dug her fingers into his ribcage and opened him up and come back wrong from what she saw inside. " we'll talk. about the review, and the texts, and... everything to do with that in a second. because that's important. and it was fucked up. and you hurt a lot of people and we'll talk about it. but first i... " how to make words form ? it had been easy to tell mi mi everything once because it felt like there were no stakes attached. they would always understand one another in the way only best friends could. now, he was walking on eggshells around himself, how could he be candid with her ? " i'm sorry i missed my flight. i'm sorry i shut you out. you don't have to accept my apology. we don't have to be friends. i just need you to know i've been fucked over what i did to you for years. i've been fucked over it because it was my decision, and it was just mine. i should have been a good best friend to you and i wasn't and i'm sorry. " he pauses to take a slow breath in. what a contrast, the sugary-sweet scent of carbohydrates and coffee wafting from the bakery door, to the sickly mood he was in. " so, just, i don't know. yell at me. throw some dough in my face. tell me how awful i acted. put some responsibility on me and make yourself feel better by targeting the real problem. and then after, we can talk about trying to make up to the swabys for the restaurant situation, because you need to make things right with them. "

#                                                   he   wouldn't   have   missed   her   ,   even   if   her   profile   picture   on   linkedin   had   been   the   only   thing   he'd   seen   .   but   it   wasn't   ,   because   bernard   had   done   his   research   on   her   the   second   her   message   came   through   and   he   read   the   familiar   surname   that   belonged   to   the   woman   who   refused   to   meet   him   for   dinner   .   “   mi   mi   !   ”   call   it   the   southern   europen   spirit   taking   over   ,   but   instead   of   the   cold   british   handshake   ,   he   leaned   over   for   a   side   hug   .   “   i   won't   lie   ,   your   message   caught   me   completely   off   guard   .   but   i'm   always   happy   to   meet   another   alumni   .   ”   he   was   always   happy   to   meet   someone   who   could   get   him   closer   to   wenyi   .   “   have   you   ordered   already   ?   it   is   hot   enough   for   an   affogato   ,   i   believe   .   ” 

he’s pulling yesterday’s cookie dough out of their fridge when the door opens. no obnoxious comment’s enough to tell him it isn’t cameron. maybe he knows exactly who it is before he even turns around. a gut feeling wrung from the very depths of his being. there are people who stick to his body like glue, people who he’ll always know. mi mi is one of them. beats him to the punch of speaking but her words are so unexpected he’s left looking like a fool, mouth just slightly parted, brows etching together as the weight of her sentence sinks in. “you did?” words come out hushed and small, barely making a dent to the silence between them. there’s more he wants to say, and more he will say: it was still wrong. it’s too late to fix it with lani. i’m sorry i pushed you to that. i’m sorry i never came to you. cookie dough set down, he takes a step closer. stops. his head’s hurting again. before, he knows what she saw: false bravado, a pathetic inside hidden under a shell of golden boy. now, he wonders if she can see how cracked he is at the surface, the bags under his eyes, how resignation has colored him different. “thank you.” even if it doesn’t begin to scratch the surface. even if he wants to ask her a million questions. “i think we need to — talk. i want to talk. can we…?”

LANA LANG AND CLARK KENT — SMALLVILLE // S01 E18: "Drone"

"Oh, come on, you could handle it. Maybe just take up a hobby to relieve the stress— plus, by then you'd have your TA to help take some of the workload, of course," Shae adds, so naturally, so matter-of-fact, finding it so easy to play along with him, to find something else to talk about. The smile on her face hasn't left for a while, nor has she thought about the anxiety that swirled in her stomach to even look at her father's address since she started speaking to him. It doesn't necessarily make sense to her, that she could be talking about home with him, but not feel the same fear she has about it while she does it. "I might have to take you up on that. Were you a history major, Felix?" It would check out, in her opinion. He seems to stumble for a second, and Shae thinks she must have overstepped somehow, but she can't pinpoint where it happened, and soon enough he finds his footing again, leading her to wonder if she'd imagined it. "So... not a tourist, but do you consider yourself a local? How long do you have to be here before they give you that street cred?" she asks on a chuckle, hiding her slight disappointment. Selfishly, after still feeling like a bit of an outsider here, she'd hoped she found someone to be outsiders with. "Uh, sort of," Shae says, one hand moving to smooth a curl behind her ear as she tries to come up with her own answer. "Not for the festival, but I am visiting. Lucky timing, i guess, but I probably would have been fine without influencers running my hotel this weekend. It's just a little... ah, noisy. But it's nice here— at the festival, I mean. I guess I can't complain too much."