#oop !

location  :  ophelia's  workshop.             time  :  golden  hour.

he's  been  in  her  shop  a  handful  of  times  now  —  three,  but  who's  counting?  —  for  various  reasons,  sometimes  running  errands,  sometimes  to  have  his  own  clothing  altered  or  repaired.  she'd  only  learned  his  name  the  last  time  he  was  here,  &  their  conversations  have  always  been  relatively  short.  he's  always  in  such  a  rush,  is  the  thing,  &  she  can  pretend  all  she  wants  that  she  doesn't  get  a  bit  excited  when  he  comes  in  with  that  apologetic  look  on  his  face.  it's  just  —  he's  awfully  kind,  &  it's  been  years  since  anyone's  paid  her  any  mind  the  way  he  does,  &  griffin  had  left  her  feeling  so  gutted  the  last  time  they  spoke . . .  &  she  does  have  eyes  —  can  she  really  be  blamed?     "  what  ever  do  you  get  up  to  every  day,  to  end  up  here  so  often?  "    they  ask,  voice  lilting  playfully  as  she  holds  up  the  jacket  he'd  brought  in,  inspecting  the  damage.  a  rip  in  the  collar  —  fifteen  minutes  of  work  at  best.  (   she  absolutely  doesn't  steal  a  glance  at  the  dip  of  his  collarbones  exposed  by  his  undershirt;  that  would  be  inappropriate.  he  is  a  client,  after  all. )      "  you  might  be  neck-and-neck  with  the  stablehands  for  most  repairs.  "    cheeks  pink  with  the  newness  of  being  so  intentionally  playful.  it  really  has  been  years.  her  eyes  lift  to  meet  his  as  she  moves  closer,  pulling  a  spool  of  measuring  tape  from  her  skirts.   "  i'll  need  to  get  a  neck  measurement  from  you  for  this.  may  i?  "        (  she  could  estimate,  if  she  wanted  to,  but  alas . . . )

LOCATION: hallway, just outside the dining hall

– “HEY, KASS, WAIT UP!” louis practically chases her down the hall. honestly, the thing about the sword doesn’t bother him much, all this gallagher drama is something he’s about to leave behind, and he’s not all too attached to the traditions. what DOES worry him is that email from a couple days ago, with kass’ father on the top of the list. he was angry with whatever students had done it for their irresponsible, insensitive use of hacking – that’s not what their skills were for. no one should find out that stuff about their parents from an email. 

Claire: hey

it had been a long few weeks. honestly, there hadn’t been much of anything happening, she just felt like the days were dragging on and on. she felt more isolated than she had in years. the only other time she was sure that she felt like this was when she had still been working for the kgb. and now ?? that was practically an eternity ago. it felt like so long ago, and yet now, it felt like she had never left. she was avoiding steve because all he wanted to do was help her and she didn’t want any help. everyone else knew to stay away, mostly because she usually made it painfully obvious she wasn’t in the mood to speak. she hadn’t talked to clint, mostly because she felt guilty for putting him through the trauma of losing her and then getting her back all in an incredibly short time span.

and then there was daisy. who was giving her SPACE.

the very same daisy who was entering the training room. who else would be coming in here ?? steve wouldn’t ever bother her, and clint knew better than to bother her when she was trying to get out her anger and her emotions in this way. you didn’t deserve to come back. tony died and wasn’t given the same second chance. third chance ?? you were given too many chances. “go away, daisy.” maybe she was a little harsh, but she couldn’t help it.