#strawberryxmagic

Finn took a deep breath as she approached the house. The heretic was feeling guilty since their last interaction with. Finn decided to try- at least for Freya's sake. There was a soft knock as he sucked his own breath.

Lysander felt a bit guilty for the confrontation he had with Artemis' father. Perhaps he should have asked permission before fighting for her honor. There was a sigh before knocking on her door, feeling his hands feel heavier than usual.

"Artemis, if you are here I wish to talk to you."

elara sat on the curb outside the grill, knees pulled up, her sketchbook open but mostly ignored in her lap. the disposable camera by her side caught the glow of the streetlights, but she hadn’t touched it in hours. when she noticed kymber approaching, her face softened with relief. “hey,” she said quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “i was hoping i’d run into you.” she closed the sketchbook, patting the space beside her. “sit with me? it’s… easier when it’s not just me and my thoughts.”

the gym lights buzzed faintly overhead, half the bulbs flickering like they were just as tired as everyone else who ended up here after curfew. elara sat cross-legged on the edge of the bleachers, sketchbook balanced on her knees, disposable camera perched beside her like always. the pages weren’t filled with maps this time—just restless sketches of faces she couldn’t quite get right.

she glanced up when she heard movement on the court below. sneakers against polished wood, the steady rhythm of someone trying to drown the world out with motion. haven.

“figured you'd know where to find me,” elara called softly, closing the sketchbook with a snap. her voice carried, but not sharp—more like an offering of company. “i was starting to think i was the only one who couldn’t sleep without running myself ragged first.” she hesitated, then tilted her head toward the empty space beside her on the bleachers. “want a break? i’ll even let you see how badly i butcher proportions when i try to draw people.” a faint, crooked smile tugged at her lips. “spoiler: you’ve got a way better jump shot than jawline.”

Henrik’s hands moved with quiet precision, arranging jars of herbs and tinctures along the worn wooden counter. The shop smelled of earth and spice, a comforting mix that almost made him forget how out of place he felt in this timeline. Almost.

His eyes flicked to the door every few seconds, scanning the street outside without really looking—an old habit from a life that had taught him to always watch, always anticipate.

“Can I help you find something?” he asked, voice polite but cautious, glancing up as a customer approached. His fingers traced the edge of a small bottle, grounding himself in the simple task.

Henrik was used to survival, not small talk—but here, among the shelves of dried roots and mysterious powders, he found a strange sort of calm. For now, it was enough.

“I swear,” Georgie remared, flipping through channels aimlessly, “there’s nothing good on anymore. Just reruns of shows that weren’t even good the first time.”

"and before you say that I said I’d rather eat glass than deal with people right now, i know, i know."she remarked as she turned to look at her sister. "we could watch a scary movie.. you know they are the best."

the bar smelled like smoke, spilled whiskey, and bad decisions waiting to happen. tonia rivera didn’t mind. she nursed her drink at the far end of the bar—bourbon, neat—boot propped on the rung of the stool, eyes half-lidded beneath the flicker of amber pendant lights. the music was low and sultry, something with bass that thudded like a heartbeat. her leather jacket was slung over the stool beside her, revealing the ink spiraling down her arms, catching faint glints of gold under the bar’s glow. she wasn’t here to make a scene. but if one found her, well—she wouldn’t exactly run.

her gaze flicked to the mirror behind the shelves of bottles, then dropped back to her glass—only to catch movement just down the bar. a curve of flame-red hair, a smirk sharp enough to cut through haze, and legs that looked like they knew how to start trouble. tonia raised an eyebrow, tilted her glass in a lazy kind of toast. “you’ve been looking over here like you’re trying to start something,” she said, voice velvet and smoke, just loud enough to carry. “figure i’d give you the green light.” she leaned back slightly, lips curling slow and deliberate. “so… you gonna keep flirting with your eyes, or you brave enough to do it with your mouth?”

"so sweet cheeks, once im clocked out what the fuck are we doing?" the hybrid asked while putting away from misplaced vinyl records, glancing over to the vampire with a raised brow and slight smirk. whatever they'd get up to, it was going to one hell of a time.