#grapefruitey

vera scented the air, head tilted back just so, eyes on the house in front of her. so many scents came back to her that she was nearly overwhelmed by it; the smell of freshly mowed grass, the trees, the night itself, her. the object of vera's obsession, affection and annoyance these days. she stood on the lawn for a moment, feeling the hum of energy surrounding the door, practically feeling how it wouldn't allow her entrance unless she was invited. it irked her still, even after all these years - the need for an invitation. sighing, she idly kicked a rock off the sidewalk before she moved forward towards the door. her leather jacket made the softest sounds as she moved, and the closer to the door she got the thirstier she became. knocking, she waited for the other to open the door.

"I've spent six months thinking about how I'd do this." A romantic prose, in a romantic setting; a glitzy, well-decorated French restaurant without a person in sight. Pressed shirt on his back, bottle of vintage champagne on ice. Rafael looks as if he's leapt out of a romantic comedy. Except, well, there's the fact that her legs are tied to her seat... "I thought about just--" He gestures with his fingers aimed at his pulse. "But that was too fast. Then, I figure, why not just make your life hell, you know?" She knows. Oddly, his messed-up has always fit nicely with hers. "Point is, I've thought about nothing but this for months. How I'd make you pay, how I'd make it hurt." Abandoning him and his family business during a crucial business deal, leaving a mess for him to clean up. He hates her, feels his blood course at the sight of her. And yet, despite the threat of it all, there's an odd softness to his eyes.

"Which means I've spent all this time thinking about you." A love confession, or a threat? Anyone's guess, as he sips on the champagne.

Jane's eyes widened in fear. Her hand flew to her lips, trapping a scream that threatened to climb up her throat. Seeing a dead body wasn't a new thing for her. It was an every day thing - her life, really - and yet this was completely different. It was as the rest of the world suddenly fell silent as her attention fixed on the body lying on the ground between them. Their friend. Oh god. "What do we--What did we do?" Jane managed to sputter out in a panic. not even sure if she spoke the words out loud or if they were just the thoughts screaming in her head. "It was an accident. It was an accident. Right?" Her head suddenly turned towards them. "Right? We didn't--I didn't. Oh god."

@grapefruitey has joined the prayer circle 🕯️🙏 #chelseawontdieparty

"i would hope you are smart enough to understand that whatever allegations against me you've heard are completely made up."

This was the last thing she expected to happen during their fifth year anniversary celebration. It all happened so fast: One minute she was pulled away from David for a brief moment to head down to the underwater viewing deck by one of the captains himself (a special privilege not afforded by just anyone on the cruise ship) and the next, she was on all fours, face down in his intestines. And as she tore through and ravaged the captain's entrails she couldn't help but remember the fancy dinner she'd had with David last night, under the stars in the middle of the ocean, romantic violin playing in the background while she ate... spaghetti.

Suddenly the door burst open and she turned around, caught red-handed, literally. Mouth and hands drenched in blood as if she was a rabbit who'd just chewed through a whole strawberry farm in the summertime, she flashed a grin toward her husband—her loving husband, at least she liked to believe that—and pretended like everything was okay. Because, well, it all happened in such a blur that she was certain she was just hallucinating, and Captain Samuels was still alive and well beside her.

"Honey!" she sang, slapping Captain Samuels' big hat on her. "You made it just in time." There was a slight gargle as she choked, barely, on something fleshy in her throat. "Captain Samuels was just telling me how a family of dolphins likes to swim in this part'a the ocean. Isn't nature just amazin'?"

He's not good at knowing his own heart. His betters - Rosalie, his mum, Dorit - were the ones who explained himself to him. It's always worked that way. But time apart, with limited cell service and a killer time zone difference, means Maddox is left alone to his own devices. For the first time, he has the time and space to think and feel. Coming to realizations that he maybe should've, so many years ago. Of course, he keeps busy; make an extra million just like Rose told him, keeps up with Dorit every other day, and puts a closing note on all situationships.

Counting down the days until Rosalie is back home, when things can start up the way they are meant to.

With Dorit's help, he's at the airport armed with a sign. Everyone at the retirement home pinched in, and it's a gigantic display of 'Welcome Home, Rosalie!' with signatures and well wishes from everyone present. He offered to help Grandma Dorit out of the home, would've pushed the wheelchair and everything... But she waved him off, said to bring her as soon as she's ready. A twinkle in her eye - maybe she knew what was in Maddox's heart.

"Come on, come on..." He taps his foot impatiently, glancing at the notice board. Her plane landed, so where was she? A big, goofy grin on his face immediately comes to light. He could spot that red hair anywhere. "Rose!" Maddox calls out, waving his arm to be seen in the crowd. And in his excitement, it's only when he's run halfway to her that she catches someone tall lurking about.