#dhstart

it was hardly even like she needed to get that particular cab, there was more than enough time for her to wait for the next one. but it was the fact that it was cold, she was tired, and she was most definitely hungover from the night before. bare hands hit the window of the cab door as the passenger that beat her shut it behind them, a seething ‘motherfucker’ and a frustrated groan leaving her lips. it was only after verity turned around and made unfortunate eye contact with a familiar face, she inhaled sharply, a guilty smile passing over her face, “hi?”   

“I greatly overestimated the amount of orders I would get for red velvet this year,” Florence admitted sheepishly, showing off the giant tub of cookies. “And what better to do with freshly baked gifts around this time of year than give them away, right? So, if you’d like them, they’re yours. If you’re not a red velvet person, I have an excessive amount of almond fudge, too.”

“Happy fuckin’ Christmas,” December greeted at the sound of approaching footsteps --- he didn’t look behind him to see who it was, if they were even a familiar face. Lately everyone and no one was familiar. He’d been staying at the house... as much as he’d been anywhere else, anyway. He’d ended up a lot of places over the course of the last few months, but, somehow, for some reason unbeknownst to himself, he always ended up crawling back to the place he’d grown up. “How the fuck am I still here?” How, why, it was all the same, wasn’t it?

She stands at the bar, long painted fingernails clicking against a green glass bottle of champagne. It has been so long since their Father’s bludgeoning (see. murder) and so little had changed besides her siblings dropping in and off of the face of planet Earth. The revolving doors of the doll house affected her little but other things weighed heavy on her ever spinning mind. She chewed up and spat out ideas as she did people and left little remaining, a little flesh and bones spattered on the pavement to be trodden over and over until nothing remained. Nothing for anyone else. Only for her. 

he  wasn’t  necessarily  sad  about  it.  he  was  definitely  bothered,  but  when  it  came  down  to  it,  he  had  no  control  over  nino’s  actions,  only  the  repercussions  of  them.  it  felt  gross  to  be  proud  over  the  fact  that  he  had  at  least  been  right  about  the  fact  that  there  was  an  attempt  on  his  mother’s  life.  the  accuracy  in  that  assumption  would  clear  him  from  estelle’s  harshness  for  at  least  a  moment.  nathaniel  sat  at  the  bar  counter,  several  empty  shot  glasses  in  front  of  him  while  he  slowly,  mindlessly  sipped  on  a  glass  of  water.  there  was  alcohol  at  home,  nice  alcohol,  expensive  alcohol  that  went  down  easy.  but  he  felt  like  he  needed,  almost  deserved,  the  humiliation  that  came  with  the  public  exposure  of  your  best  friend  being  arrested  for  going  after  your  mother.  

Whether or not she wanted to, River couldn’t keep herself separated from whatever was happening at the house. Yes, she had been living in Vertmoor for the majority of her life but that didn’t mean she could pretend things were normal. She had heard about Neek’s place burning down, which sucked ( all things considered ) but she hadn’t been there the night they’d broken into the foundation so she didn’t know the full extent of what that meant. It seemed like things were returning to a relative calm, as far as the place was ever calm, and unfortunately that meant no more distractions - so she had to find one.

One of Bluebell’s favorite activities was getting herself a nice coffee (slightly sweet and slightly bitter was just right) and sitting outside in the sun, enjoying her alone time. She was sipping her iced coffee and basking when a shadow cast over her face, interrupting her sun time. The girl tilted her sunglasses down on the bridge of her nose.

Cassia was having a day.