#eversecond

her crutch lay abandoned at the excitement of something edible. ( it actually clattered to the ground and made a noise that would draw attention , but that didn't matter right now )

her shirt is pulled up, skin exposed. the right side of her, ink adorned on the curve beneath her breast. it's fresh, delicate work. stark against pretty skin. “ how's it look? ” she asks, pulling the fabric of her bra out of the way for the tattoo's exposure. “ it doesn't hurt, not really. ” she looks down as if she could see it herself, body twisting as if adjusting would help. all she sees is wrinkled fabric. “ itches more than anything. ” she lets go, lace slipping back into place. her shirt follows next.

lips are liquor loose, flush burnt upon her face. it's like she'd been kissed by the southern sun in night time. there's already a few bottles between them, one she kicked over by laughing too hard. she should of expected it by the way @eversecond had just been staring, but the words still get catch her off guard.

“ you know, i had a feelin', ” she avoids his eyes now, the careful stare from beneath stringed lights. it'd become a spot of comfort, of shared drinks. sometimes they lose track of time and suddenly the sky begins to lighten. “ just didn't know what to say. ” because the words aren't easy even after drink or more. she sips again to break the bitter taste, but it only lingers. “ just don't know how to do this all over. ” her hand motions between space between the two of them. it's been easy at his side. laughter lines and aching muscles along her ribs.

napkin balled as he gently throws it onto plate , and then reaches for a joint that sits tucked on ear. ' seriously , that should be fuckin' illegal '

he'd be lying if he said this PARTICULAR encounter didn't have exterior motives ; fuck , don't they always ? the kid has ties to the UK , a charter that has pledged allegiance to clay though ? what they don't know is that jackson teller has gone NOMAD.

' do you smoke , mind if i do ? '

@unhalloweds sent me this meme and i can't find the link rip--

" i had three, and to be honest, they're all equal in excellence, so i can't pick one above the rest! " she leans forward, hands clasped as she rests herself atop the table. it's a brilliant question, one she looks forward to answering. her childhood isn't an enjoyable subject by any means, but food, by stark contrast, is. it makes perfect sense that the two should cancel out, that the power and importance of the culinary world should outshine the despair of the past. she lifts a finger from the interlaced clasp, and begins her recollected list.

" first, colcannon. the americans think it must be made with kale; this isn't the case. the darker leaves of cabbage are preferred, but once you don't use the white parts, it's more than good enough. fresh potatoes, mashed with butter, salt and pepper to taste. you don't need to rice them; carmen disagrees, but he's an eejit, because the texture of the cabbage and scallions outweighs whatever smoothness you'd get from the riced potatoes. my dad used to make it all the time; the one dish he really relied upon. "

" secondly, apple cake with custard. not the creme anglaise; i mean thick, nearly scoopable custard, that rich yellow colour. the apple cake doesn't need to be sliced, this is comfort food; a spoonful of it, like trifle, but hot, the custard on top, and that gorgeous demerara brown sugar crust on the surface. that one was our neighbour's recipe, eoin's mother, she'd bake it every saturday, two big dishes of the stuff, a massive pot of custard, and we'd go over after we finished our homework and eat it fresh with big glasses of milk. "

" i'd stay longer if i could. honest. " nonetheless, she has a plane to catch in the morning. back to the studio. the packed suitcase by the door of her hotel room says as much. still, she doesn't want the night to end. & she's equally against the thought of him going home. " you know, if you were to take a trip to los angeles this summer... " a hopeful suggestion. " i know someone who would be quite excited about that. "

was  that  excitement  he  heard  tinging  his  voice  ?  or  was  he  so  desperate  to  wipe  away  any  DOUBT  that  he'd  falsely  understood  what  he  wanted  to  ?  things  like  this  always  went  over  better  in  his  head  where  he  could  start,  stop,  &  rewind  at  will.  &   EVERYTHING  went  better  when  he  could  ask  bobby.  but  it  was  seven  on  a  friday  evening  (  a  rarity  for  both  to  be  free  from  work  )  &  he'd  gotten  lost  in  the  way  his  smile  kissed  his  eyes  whenever  he  spoke.  the  way  his  hand  inched  closer  with  each  passing  minute.  lost  in  the  way  the  rain  pelted  the  large  glass  windows  of  his  loft  &  the  lightening  illuminated  candle  lit  living room,  highlighting  the  freckles  that  dotted  his  face  in  ways  he  hadn't  noticed  before.  "  yeah.  i  thought  that  part  was  kinda  OBVIOUS.  gotta  be  something  open,  right  ?  "