#* nick

maybe it’s their difference in age that has nick completely baffled by her behaviour. maybe he’s just getting ‘old’ now at the ripe age of thirty-seven and he can no longer understand his own youngest sister in the same way he hasn’t been able to with his oldest two for years. the distance between him and jen and sarah hasn’t hurt how easy it is to fall back into old habits, or how readily they answer each other’s calls, but he can’t say it’s easy to relate to their big city lives and public transport woes. megan had always stuck close in their homely little town, even when she’s had the potential to fly much further than anyone else, and nick’s always been selfishly grateful for it — for having her stay by his side through everything he’s struggled with in private since he was a teenager and she was barely old enough to know how comforting her company was to him. maybe that’s the problem. maybe he holds her a little too close. 

it’s hard for nick to move on from the bright-eyed, dirtied knees version of meg that colours every one of his teen memories. when he hears her laugh from across the parking lot, he’s sucker punched back to 2004, usher blasting out from the radio as he leans against the hood of his ‘02 ford cougar, a rust bucket affectionately called a death trap by jenny before she’d left for the fourth year of her bachelor’s at the end of a hot summer. he hadn’t been sure then — and he certainly isn’t now — who he’d been trying to impress with his foot perched on the wheel and sunglasses low on his nose but there’d been some unspoken pressure to prove he’d matured since graduating a year ago. looking back, he couldn’t have missed the mark more if he tried. 

but it’s not the era of early myspace anymore, and megan’s almost a foot taller than she was when being picked up by your older brother was actually cool and not kind of embarrassing because your coworkers scramble over one another to wave at him first. not that nick notices, eighteen years in the past wondering why she never wears those double plaits anymore that she used to every day. she’s a few feet in front of him when he comes back to, flashing her a warm smile and her colleagues an obvious, but small tip of his head. 

bold what applies to your muse. italicize what sometimes applies.

BLUE.

cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water soaked skin / seaside towns during off season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways