bless these wicked hands.

She seemed shaken almost, and the Clown tilts his head slightly, the motion similar to that of a curious dog. How sudden the shift had occurred and how different it seemed to him compared to what he had seen of her at a distance, calm and collected, out of reach. But still, he knows better than to react, to point out the obvious hurt on her face, which she quickly puts away. That wasn’t meant to be seen by him or possibly anyone else. He perks up once more at her question and nods without hesitation, managing to hold his tears in for now since he gets the feeling that she wouldn’t appreciate them. Her hand is outstretched to him, and he wastes no time taking it in his, maybe squeezing a bit too hard to make sure he isn’t dreaming this. And suddenly, he feels apprehension in his gut, wondering for a few moments if he’s misjudged this, if he’s making a mistake. He remembers how he swore to stay away from this place, to get his revenge on the freaks and everyone else who hurt him, but it all feels so far away when he has someone else holding his hand after so long…he decides to risk it. And she did not hurt him, did she? There’s something warm in her expression, but it is not familiar. She has not done wrong by him. Not yet. He decides to discard his suspicion for at least a few minutes more in the hope that even if this turns out to be the wrong decision that at least he wasn’t out in those woods anymore. 

The Clown feels every part of him tense up as he watches her pull up the skirt of her dress. All at once memories flood his brain of other women and other skirts and overwhelming feelings of YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing on end, and he can feel his feet itching to bolt, but suddenly…something catches his eye. His eyes fall upon not supple skin but smooth wood, and his brows furrow as his arms drop down to his sides. It takes a few moments, but he realizes what she is showing him. His throat burns a bit with bile and guilt at where his mind had begun to go, and his eyes sting a bit. Like him…yes, she isn’t like the other freaks. She’s like him. Something of her is missing, and his heart aches for her. For a moment he feels panic as her eyes meet his, afraid of what she’ll say when she sees the telltale shine of tears welling up. He wants to tell her that they are not patronizing, they are not pitying. But they are sad and happy and curious…what sort of home could she make for him among these FREAKS, and why was he so willing to find out. Tentatively, he steps forward, reaching his hand out toward her, hoping she would take it. Hoping she might lead him somewhere. Or at the very least, make him feel less alone.

carol listened, nodded her understanding as therese explained what she was feeling. “i’m afraid too,” carol admitted. because she was. not afraid of how she felt necessarily, because how she felt about women was something she’d struggled with for years. but she was afraid for therese. she was an adult yes, but still so young, so new to all this. carol didn’t want to ruin this sweet girl’s life when it had barely even begun. she was also afraid of harge, afraid of what he could do. he’d already gotten wind of her and therese when he’d seen them both at the house just before christmas, but back then things had barely even started between them. if he learned where things had gone with them now…

“but i want this too, therese.” carol said, dropping her head to press a light kiss to the young woman’s forehead. “and i don’t plan on going anywhere.” in truth though, carol herself wasn’t entirely sure that this wasn’t too good to be true either.

   ❛   you're  afraid  ?   ❜    therese asked  ,   disbelief a thick layer across her words.  she hadn't pinned carol to be someone who was afraid.  of anything.  therese had seen the way she stood up to harge  ,  a much larger and highly intimidating man.  if she could stand up to a man like that , then what on earth could she possibly be afraid of here ?  thoughts she does not wish to confront come hurtling through her mind  (   am i worse that harge ?  )  she pushes the darkness of her thoughts aside , focusing instead upon the blonde before her.  ❛   of what  ?  ❜

  therese wasn't particularly  one to question.  not when she found fear in even the smallest of problems.  of her future  ,  of commitment.  she feared failure  ,  but equally feared success. she hadn't felt peace in great long time , but carol brought her as close as she could remember.  maybe that was why she dared to cling so tightly , feared that she may slip through her fingers.

she has a point, though teddy reckons there’s still an hour or two’s worth of travel left in the day. he’s wasted enough time to be prepared to ride on through the night as well, foolish as that may be. ( it’s a worthwhile risk with the reward in mind. everything leads back to wyatt in the end, and teddy isn’t about to let this slip out of his grasp. ) 

he’s already heading off to collect his things. luck’s on his side for once in his life, it seems. he’d half expected them to take it all with them when they left. 

     ‘ last i checked, outlaws didn’t make a habit of inviting themselves on bounty hunts. ’ 

    kate leans casually upon the post to which she'd tied her horse  ,  watching the man as he grappled for possessions  ,  scattered about the ground in careless manner.  but sharp statement earns equal scoff , drawn from her lips in an abrupt exhale.   ❛  i want no part of your  bounty hunt.   ❜   she sneers , sand-colored hues rolling slightly. truthfully  ,  kate had only ever found bounty-hunting to be waste of time.  far too much time and energy spent for small rewards.  she could earn far greater by overturning a simple stagecoach.  

     ❛ but you shouldn’t have t’ be. ❜ it sounds wooden and hollow even as chibs says it, as if he places no earnest belief his own words. he doesn’t. death does not deserve to be taken lightly, commonplace as the rise and the set of the sun each new day. yet here they are, intimate with its quiet destruction, old acquaintances with its sure pain. chibs is tired of burying friends; the dirt of backwoods graves permanently sits embedded beneath his nails. no amount of scrubbing can wash it clean. he hadn’t imagined this would be his future, all those years ago. he hadn’t envisioned himself living this long.  ❛ you don’t more for us than ye get credit for, ally. don’t think you’re told it enough. ❜

    funny , those simple movements , slender digits through dark locks , has therese melting. fear falls from her heart with desperate desire. she cannot imagine a life without carol in it.  ( was it not just weeks ago that she was a stranger ? )  but she is as bright as the sun , and therese can't force herself to look away.

    what if she was nothing more than a distraction for a woman who'd suddenly occupied every thought , every movement and intention ? she leans into tender touch , eyes fluttering shut briefly , as though she may memorize the feeling of hand upon cheek. lock it away and access the sensation whenever she felt lonely.   ❛   i want this.   ❜   therese affirms , broadly referring to the entirety of their relationship. it had been fast , sure , passionate. but it was the best of her life. something to help her forget responsibility and loneliness.  ❛  i'm afraid. that... that you'll disappear. that it's all too good to be real.  ❜

Dylan shot his mother an exasperated look, before turning away for a moment. 

“No, Gunner, don’t worry about it. Just – just shut it off. I’ll fix it later. Okay. – Yeah.”  He hung up, and turned back towards Norma. 

 “What’s up, Norma?”  He couldn’t keep the half sigh of frustration or edge of sarcasm from his voice.

His nostrils flare, a small sign of impatience he waits for her response. A word, a gesture…anything at all to show him that she understood him. Her calm demeanor is infuriating, and the Clown can feel his rage quietly burning in his belly. He’d wanted to rattle her, get her to throw him out. Do something that would force him to leave since he did not seem capable of willing himself to do it. But, of course, with a few words she has only drawn him in more. Against all of his better judgement, what little there was left of it, the Clown found his curiosity piqued. She wanted to show him something…maybe end up using that act as a bartering chip in getting him to reveal his face in the future. Still, that did not dissuade him entirely. He releases her from his hold and grunts as he folds his arms over his chest. Caution takes a backseat to curiosity as the Clown huffs impatiently and nods. He will see what she wants him to see and then he will decide whether to stay or go.

AGE GAP STARTERS ⁝ ACCEPTING .               ┗     ⅋. █▐  @mxdam      ┛