Time in a bottle - Rick Grimes
chapter two!! - Strangers in the night
Rick Grimes x OC (Constance Fitch)
Constances feet scuffed against the road as she weaved in between houses.
She was returning from the short stroll Deanna insists she take to help 'clear her mind', itâs yet to make a difference.
Sighing in irritation, she shifted her head towards the voice. Eyes squinting against the sun and mouth twisting into a scowl which never seemed to leave her face these days.
Aaron cheerfully waves from next to, what seems to be bigfoot and Billy the kid. her head tilts in confusion, why is he talking to her?
In the four weeks she had been residing in Alexandria, Constances temper had began to grow into something cruel. After having been alone since the beginning, she grew jealous of the people inhabiting the town.
The anger that sat dorment in her stomach was slowly bubbling to the surface, the young woman didnt know how much more hospitality she could take before it erupts.
Rolling her eyes, she twists around, redirecting her route to avoid talking to the man who has continued his attempts in getting the red head to open up that had been going on for weeks.
Her boots pound against the wooden stairs as she stomps her way up to the porch. Constances hand comes down harshly on the handle as she prepares to swing it open.
Her shoulder comes in contact with the door, but before she can match the lock to the latch she hears Aaron state,
"Thats Constance. She got here a couple weeks ago, hasnât said much since then."
A huff of air escapes Constances dry lips, these people dont know when to mind their own damn business.
Swirling smoke escapes Constances lips, apparating into the cool afternoon air drifting in through the open window.
Rolling the filter between her fingers and ashing the butt onto the clean white window sill, she leans forward, palm suppporting the weight of her chin.
She looks intently upon the scene unravelling below her, Deannas son and one of the new arrivels are engaged in a heated argument.
Constance watches as Aidens mouth straightens into an annoyed line, "Why'd you let these peopled in?" He asks, turning to his mother.
The unfamillar young mans eyes turn sharp, "Because we actually know what were doing out there." He snapped back.
Constances eyes widen, a smile appearing on her face for the first time in months at the thought of Aiden getting put in his place.
Aidens jaw clenches and in a matter of seconds he spun around, swinging at the strangers face.
He stumbles forward as he misses the swing, grazing a few of the young mans hairs as he ducks, dodging the fist flying in his direction.
The stranger springs back up and launches a fist into Aidens cheekbone. Constance lets out an amused wince, "Get his ass, Jackie Chan,"
Her teeth graze the inside of her bottom lip in concentration. The fight escalates as Nicholas leaps forward aiming for the stranger, his actions are quickly put to a stop as a man clad in an angel wing vest throws him over his bouldering shoulder.
As angel wings pins Nicholas into the concrete, two new figures sprint through the gate. The taller figure speeds over to angel wings, leaning over his shoulder and muttering something Constance couldnât hear.
She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes trying to catch the words being exchanged between the two.
Nicholas jumps up and cluches his throat, coughing as he trys to catch his breath. Flinching back in fear as angel wings leaps forward in attempt to finish what he started.
Constance shakes her head, hopping down from the window sill. She only makes it a few steps as Deannas voice echos throughout the town.
âI want everyone to hear me, okay?â She announces loudly.
Constance stalls, interested in what the older woman has to say. She turns around to peer out of the window once more.
âRick and his people are part of this community now,â Deanna bellowed, âIn all ways. As equals. Understood?â
Constance raises her eyebrows at the demanding announcement, only ever hearing soft tones come from the woman.
She clicks her tongue and spins to face the large bed in the middle of the room, sock covered feet padded over the dark wood floor towards the pillow covered mattress.
Constance slumps into the mass of pillows and blankets, body sinking into the soft nest.
Flipping onto her back, she fixates on the roof. Itâs times like these when she gets lost in the maze of her mind. When the worlds goes quiet, and the silence surrounding her feels thick enough to drown in.
In a way she does drown, sinking into the thought of before. Bubbles forming on the surface as she falls deeper and deeper.
The muffled sound of her sisterâs voice cuts through the music blasting in her ears.
Wire headphones are torn from her ears as Mercy appears in front of her.
Connie mocks a gag and retorts, âDonât call me that,â
Her sister falls onto the bed beside her, sticking one of the buds into her ear.
âEverybodyâs got a hungry heart!â
Mercy begins to belt the lyrics into her sisterâs face. Connieâs neck jolts back, grimacing at her sisterâs pitch.
âPlease stop.â She replyâs dryly.
Mercy continues her performance.
âLa! La! La! La! La! La!â
Constance rolls onto her back and clasps her hands around her neck, pretending to choke herself.
Mercy lets out a hearty laugh at her sisterâs actions.
âThe hell sâgoing on in here?â A rough voice interrupts the sisterâs antics.
The sisters flinch at the intrusion, âA Springsteen concert, canât you tell?â
Connie remarks sarcastically, pushing her tangled hair out of her eyes while rising to her knees beside Mercy.
The brown bottle in their fatherâs hand clinks against the doorframe as he sways in place, âKeep it downâŚChrist.â
He mutters under his breath as he stumbles away to his armchair in the front room.
The sisters slowly turn towards each other, a cheeky grin melting into their expressions.
They break into a fit of giggles as the man disappears from the door, falling into a heap of limbs on Connieâs bed.
Constanceâs eyes flutter open, did she fall asleep?
Using the back of her hand she wipes the sleep from her eyes, glancing out the window to the see the sun had set and the inky night had swallowed the town once again.
Constance sighs and pushes herself up, hands sinking into the soft comforter.
The chill of the floor bites at her feet. Arms stretching over her head while slowly shuffling to the stairs.
Her knees click as she reaches the last step. Hopping off the wooden stoop, she grabs her coat from the end of the bannister.
Constance eased down to a crouch to pull on the boots that she had previously stolen from the display of some shoe store in Alabama.
They had been a staple from her wardrobe before and she wasnât planning on giving them up for some dead folk.
The door creaked as Constance tugged it open.
Breathing in the cool night breeze, she clicked the door shut behind her and meandered out into the street.
Boots clicking against the concrete as she wandered in the direction of the wooden gazebo by the small body of water in the heart of Alexandria.
Constance crept up the steps and settled onto the bench.
The night was quiet, but not in the way that haunted Constance. Worming worries into her head and drawing out memoryâs of the past.
This kind of quiet was breathable, wind whistling through the trees. Filling the silence with a melody only those who donât search for it, hear.
She fishes in the pockets of her baggy Carhart jacket, searching for her pack.
Placing the filter between her lips, Constance pushes her hand into her other pocket with a sigh.
She grasps the lighter and flicks the spark wheel, flames flickering from the small metal body.
âSâbad for you yâknowâ A deep voice drawls from behind her.
Sharply turning her head towards the voice, itâs the man who broke up the fight earlier.
Constance stares into his eyes and takes a slow drag.
He nods and purses his lips, making his way up the steps.
His eyebrows raise from across the gazebo. Boots clicking as he saunters over, dropping down into the space beside her with a sigh.
âHow long were you out there?â
Who the hell was this man, and where the hell did he get the audacity?
Constance raised a brow, head tilting towards him. âSince the beginning.â An unwanted shake betrayed her voice.
He hummed in understanding, âUs too,â
âWhat do you think of this place?â
Constance shrugs, having not made up her mind yet.
âWhatâs your name?â
âWhatâs your name?â She emphasises.
The man looks down at the filter burning between her fingers, âIâm Rick,â He replies, plucking the butt of the cigarette and twisting the end into the pale brown wood of the gazebo wall.
âAre you even old enough to be smokinâ these?â
Theyâre southern drawls battling, both as strong as the other.
Rick shakes his head in playful exasperation, âYour name?â
âConstance.â She blinks once and looks at her half finished cigarette sitting on the bench between them, too tired to argue about the waste.
He places his hands on his knees, rising from the bench, âNice to meet you Constance,â He holds out a hand.
She hesitates for a moment before sliding her hand into his. He effortlessly pulls her from the bench. Constance stumbles forward in her drowsy state, only for Rick to catch her elbow, steadying her.
Looking up at the tall man, his face slightly hidden by shadows. Her eyes harden, âYou owe me a cigarette,â She challenges.
âYou should get home, Sânot safe out here,â Constance scoffs, shouldering past him and plodding down the steps.
âSure thing, Officer.â
She called out sarcastically, flipping the bird from over her shoulder and trudging her way back into the darkness.
Hey bitches lemme know what you think