firecracker

letting out a short laugh at xyla’s assessment, jude gives a little shrug of agreement. “maybe i’m not, after all,” he allows, and this time he’s the one rolling his eyes. “oh absolutely, yeah, that’s no problem. i’m loaded, everyone knows that. and it’s the least i can do, you being the one taking all the risks for the–how did you put it? the sake of my entertainment. what’s a couple thousand? pennies on the dollar, know what i mean?” the ironic part, of course, being that his parents back home in england really were loaded, but he hadn’t seen so much as a dime of that since even before he’d cut them out of his life, and he certainly hadn’t told xyla about them.

he smiles a little at the way she coughs when she hits the joint, struck by the modest innocence of it. he knows she doesn’t smoke often, a way of life which is completely foreign to him these days, but that’s why he finds it interesting. he firmly believes he could no more go a week without smoking than he could go a week without drinking water. it was a mental addiction, maybe, but it was a strong one. “ah, so there is a way to get you on that ferris wheel,” he teases, taking the joint back with a frown of contemplation on his face as she finishes her thought. “yelling and screaming with no judgment, that sounds fair. definitely doable. all i’ll have to do is organize a situation where you get arrested and the judge gives you the option of jail-time or half an hour on the ferris wheel. so we’ll be getting back to you on that but stay tuned, alright? i know a fair amount of judges i can bribe so i’m holding you to this.” as they reach the end of the pier, jude takes a long hit, hands it back to xyla, and climbs up onto the first rung of the banister exactly the way he’d criticized a stranger for doing not five minutes ago. he has to grab the top rung, though, a second later to keep himself from falling in, laughter at xyla’s question having turned into a choking fit thanks to the smoke in his mouth. eyes watering, voice croaky from coughing, he turns to her half-laughing, “the rock’s turtle neck really just fucking sent me. look, i dunno why you think that’s some sort of bad choice, i’d get you and my boy danny on my back and because i love the idea so much, i’d get the rock on my chest. now you,” he points a finger at her, standing up straight again with his feet on the first rung, “would you rather get an exact replica of all of post malone’s face tattoos, or have the lyrics to the goo goo dolls’ emotional classic iris tattooed up and down your arms? i’m talking tiny font, bunched together, repeated over and over up and down your arms.”

Often times, when people thought of the fear of heights, they thought of rollercoasters, rooftops and tall buildings. But to Xyla, heights meant anything that was above normal level ground level. As they walked further down the pier, her palms began to get sweaty and her anxiety levels rose - but she tried her best to hide it. But once Jude climbed up onto the top railing of the pier, she was no longer able to hide her alarm. “If you fall over, you’re swimming with the sharks. Do you have a death wish? Was swimming part of the itinerary today? Or cliff jumping? ‘Cause I did not sign up for this! Get off, Jude,” she scolded, staking a step closer to him, hands ready just in case. Her fear was intense, preventing her from enjoying various areas of her life. She hated the view from her high-floor office, searched all through Los Angeles for an apartment below the 10th floor, and stayed away from things like amusement parks, and the view for the city from some of the higher hiking routes.

The brunette rolled her eyes playfully as he willingly chose both options to be forever ingrained on his skin. “How am I supposed to choose between those two wonderful ideas?” Xy continued, rolling her eyes as she weighed the options in her head. She didn’t had any tattoos, and probably never would. So the question wasn’t ‘which would you rather have’ but ‘which would you pick as your first ever tattoo?’ The idea of admitting that the tiny, illegible text that lined her arms, or the designs on her face was her first tattoo made her stomach flip. “Fuck, make-up can only cover so much so, with regret, I have to choose the lyrics. But listen, can you imagine how ridiculous I would look with face tattoos. I’m certain people would ask me why I’ve got my halloween costume on this early on in the year.”

Listening to Xyla speak about her family made his lips curl into a sweet smile. He fought back a flush of pink in his cheeks as he chuckled at what she had to say. “An idiot, huh? Is he more of the scrawny stoner with half of a braincell type or a frat boy whose morality is based solely upon barstool sports podcasts? Hey – do you think your family would like me? Do I check all the Villanueva boxes?” As she unloaded the bag, he laced his arms around her tiny waist, welcoming her onto his lap. It was probably not the most work appropriate thing yet he couldn’t resist. “Hey, they need to find solace in the fact that their lives are half over. You should prepare yourself, mine is quickly approaching. Absolutely no way I’m seeing a day past fifty. You’ll be widowed pretty young but at least you’ll have the rights to all things post crisis.” Asher teased, popping a spoonful of fried rice into his mouth. The brunette probably hadn’t expected the man to be so nonchalantly insinuating that he was going to marry her. But as of late, it seemed like that would be the outcome of all this. After all, whenever he imagined a future for himself, Xyla was the brightest part of it. In this moment, he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it and seeing her with someone else simply wasn’t in the cards. “No longer empty. I’ll have you know it’s full furnished and ready for you the next time you come over, given that this mystery man in the hills is me.” A smirk pierced his lips as he pressed them to her shoulder ever so gently. To say the very least, it was amazing to have Xyla back in his arms. 

Watching as she freed herself of her blazer and laced her hair into a messy bun, Asher watched her in awe. It was so rare for him to be so immerse in someone as he was with her. Even in other relationships he’d been in, they never seemed as genuine as this situationship did. His eyes locked to her, he listened to her words with a bit of remorse flooding his body. Was he supposed to tell her about seeing Cassia? It was innocent, right? He had nothing to be guilty about. They simply ran into each. People run into each other all the time. But, the kiss would certainly be a harder thing to explain. A nervous laugh bubbled from his lips as he debated his next move. “The holidays are always a weird time for me. I spent a lot of time working while all of my clients were with their families. Spent some time with Jude. I actually, uh, ran into my ex at a bar. You can probably guess how awkward that was.” To be fair, Asher expected Xyla to be a bit shocked. He’d never mentioned Cassia and with good reason. If he did, he’d have to open up about their toxic past as well as the skeletons in his closet. It was easier to drag the past to hell and leave its corpse there.

“I wish!” Xyla groaned, an exasperate laugh leaving her lips. “Think a jock in a nerds body. He’s at the top of their class which my parents love, but he’s so arrogant and condescending, always mansplaining things as if Quinn wasn’t the one who’d once explained these things to him. I hate him, Asher. If you were there you would have died of laughter and probably torn him to shreds.” The idea of Asher at her family’s annual Christmas party brought a smile to her lips. She could imagine him dressed up at the dinner table, trying his best to impress her strict, by-the-book rather, laid-back mother, and know-it-all sister, all while maintaining a casual conversation with Quinn. It would have been a feat only the bravest of souls could attempt, but Xyla was confident that he’d be able to smooth talk his way into their good graces. Especially given the way she spoke about him. Xyla had only ever brought home one man for Christmas at the Villanueva house, her ex-fiance. Since then, she danced around the topic of her life post-breakup, and anything even remotely tied to dating. But while home for the holiday season, she finally let the words flow freely and told her mother about the man back in LA, the one that had not only helped her move on, but also heal. These were things that Xyla hadn’t said outlaid to anyone before, but it felt nice to put her feelings into words for someone else to hear. Given how touch-and-go their relationship seemed to be, being able to say the words out loud as liberating. “I think lose some of the hair and your in,” Xy teased as she reached forward and pushed back some of the stray hairs that had fallen onto his face. “Widowed hm?” She repeated, arching an eyebrow up at him in a way that asked ‘are you sure?’ But rather than press him on what were probably meaningless words, her lips simply curled into a smirk and she leaned into his touch. “That means we only have 25 years left together. In that case, we should probably start popping out kids sometime soon. I don’t want to be a boring, widowed mom left to tend to teenagers all by myself,” Xy teased, settling into his lap and making herself more comfortable.

“Shut the fuck up, Asher Hemmings. There is no way you furnished your entire house without me. Remember when I asked you to help me buy a new bed frame and we walked around Ikea for three hours? How did you manage an entire house in two weeks? You don’t have style like that,” Xyla said incredulously, turning his lap to look at him. “Who helped you pick out carpets? And tables? And the chairs for your island? I go away for Christmas and you run wild, thinking you’re on some episode of Extreme Home Makeover, LA edition.” She pouted playfully, sticking her bottom lip out to him in the way he once made her promise never to do so again. While she was upset that she’d missed out on the fun of furniture shopping, she was more excited to see what the place looked like than upset that she hadn’t helped. Surely that would be their next destination once they left. Reaching for a spring roll, she brought it to her lips as he continued to talk. Xy’s nose crinkled at the mention of Asher’s time with Jude given the unique relationship she had with them both, but her concerns were long forgotten once he mentioned his ex. She paused mid-chew and simply nodded her head. Of course Asher had an ex. Why wouldn’t he? But it was Xyla’s first instinct to be instantly suspicious, though he’d given her no reason to be. It was something she would have to work on for the sake of their relationship, current and in the future. But given her stellar track-record with faithful men, one could understand why the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. “Unless you ended on a good note, exes are like parasites - pushing their way back into your life even when you think you’re through with them. Did she hit on you?” she asked in a sing-song voice, in part because she wanted to tease him, but also because she was genuinely curious.

“me?” jude says with a surprised laugh, hand going to his chest. he’s already shaking his head as she speaks. “not a bloody chance, love, i’m far too big a wimp to pull off something like that, that’s why i was trying to recruit you. i would absolutely weigh you down as a partner in crime, have you completely lost your head?” he laughs again, delightedly this time, and pulls some more bitter-tasting smoke into his lungs. “but d’you know what? i’m really quite flattered you have enough faith in me to even suggest i give it a go. thank you so much for the confidence.” he’s a moment away from leaning down to kiss her cheek before he remembers with a jolt they’re not sleeping together anymore, and that he probably shouldn’t. and he really is disappointed about the ferris wheel, but he supposes he can find someone else to go with him eventually. still, it’s fascinating to learn that xyla has a fear of heights so acute she can’t even get herself on there–that she’d call it a death-machine. part of him wants to ask if there’s an origin to this phobia, but he doesn’t. “alright, alright, fair enough, i promise i haven’t got any diabolical plans to ruin your life tonight, i was only trying to get some scenic inspiration for my art. can you begrudge me that?” he nods toward the very end of the pier, plucking the promised joint from behind his ear and disposing of his half-smoked cigarette in a trash can.  there are a few other people around them but he doesn’t anticipate any trouble. “since you ruined my fun this joint comes with a single stipulation,” he warns her, lighting the end of it. “we’re going to play a wicked game of would-you-rather while we smoke it. and your first question is: would you rather spend a week in jail or sit at the very top of the ferris wheel for half an hour?”

Xyla rolled her eyes playfully as Jude quickly backed out of her challenge and accepted is role as a terrible partner-in-crime. “Maybe you’re not all that useless,” she added after a moment of thought. “If I’m going to be committing crimes for the sake of your entertainment, you have to bail me out of jail. Every time, regardless of how high my bail is. I'm sure it’ll rack up well within the thousands, but that shouldn't be a problem, right?" Xyla teased, gently nudging him they started towards the end of the pier.

It was a beautiful Los Angeles afternoon. The sun was shining, birds were chirping and not a cloud littered the bright blue sky above them. While Xyla's original plans were to catch up on laundry and maybe hit the gym, she was thankful that Jude had persuaded her to ditch her responsibilities and let loose a little. Between endless client calls and meetings, taking care of her little pup, and trying to navigate the budding relationship she had with Asher, she had been neglecting much needed time with good friends. Hanging out with Jude was always a good time. His clever wit, charm and tantalizing accent kept things interesting, and she was never sure what he was going to say next. It kept Xyla on her toes and she greatly valued having someone like him in her life.

“oh, i can’t guarantee any such thing,” jude says, mustering up an expression of deepest disappointment. “no fun in it if there isn’t any risk of being arrested, is there? but you are right–that bloke’s been asking for it ever since he climbed up onto the railing, so i urge you wholeheartedly to go ahead with it in spite of the cops. and i must say, xy, your bloodlust is an inspiration to me.” he pulls a cigarette from his pack and catches his eye on the ferris wheel again as he lights it. he’s never been a great fan of heights, but he has always been a fan of rides, particularly ones which afforded you such an incredible view. xyla’s voice pulls his focus back to her and he grins around the cloud of smoke he blows out. “i think you’re underselling yourself. i mean, how hard is it to just…shove some people off the pier into the water? you could get ten bare minimum before that rent-a-cop down there gets within twenty yards of us. these people are not paying attention, believe me. that goes for him, too.” he points a short ways down the pier where a security guard with a can of mountain dew is standing; his focus has been on a group of teenage boys for the last ten or fifteen minutes. “but if you’re absolutely opposed to getting arrested i’d settle for coming with me on the ferris wheel.” cigarette dangling from his fingers, he points to the mammoth structure before them, its lights just beginning to come on for the evening. “i’ve got a joint i’ve just decided has to be smoked from a hundred feet in the air. for maximum enjoyment, you understand.”

A undeniable warmth flushed Asher’s cheeks when he saw his favorite smile light up the room. He had grown a bit envious of Chicago in the last few weeks knowing that they city had such a ray of sunshine in its presence. But now that she was back, it was definitely going to hard to focus on anything but her. Asher was in quite high demand in his work space as of right now but in this moment, he wanted to simply silence his phone and devote his time to her. He hadn’t been doing enough for her and this was his opportunity to make it up to her. Watching the woman arise from her desk and gracefully cross the floor, Asher fitted his free hand in the groove of her waist once she reached him as he returned the soft kiss. Surely he colleagues were gawking from outside of her office with expositive windows but it felt good to give Xyla something to brag about or something for those in her office to be jealous of. “I would look sexy in a fitted polo, wouldn’t I?” Asher wrinkled his nose at her with a smile, his hand effortlessly pulling her a bit closer. As she grabbed for the bag, he released it from his grip. “Well, I figured after weeks of eating nothing but Chicago’s famous deep dish pizza for breakfast lunch and dinner that you’d be craving your favorites.” Pressing his lips to her temple, he snaked past her and sat down at her desk. “Me and the thai food, of course.” Asher’s eyes scanned her work station with a smile that hadn’t truthfully left his lips since her entered the room. It was just as organized as he had expected. Tape dispenser and stapler parallel to one another, color coated sticky notes stuck to some stacks of papers, a cute holder for her paperclips and so on. The whole thing took him back to the first night he went to her apartment, the first time seeing the way she lived. Her office was professional and proper but cozy and welcoming in the same breath. “How was going home? How are Quinn and Rowan? Your parents? Your hometown man?” Asher teased, looking toward her as he leaned back in her chair.

“Ou, add a pair of khakis to that outfit and I may not be able to keep my hands off of you,” she teased, a smirk forming on her faded lips. Xy followed him back to her desk and leaned against the hard wood, her ass on the edge as she faced him sitting in her chair. Up until that moment, Xyla hadn’t realized how much she missed him over the winter holidays. This was in part due to the constant stream of parties she attended, extended family members running through their home, and time spent catching up with her sisters and parents, but at night, when she went to bed, she missed the warmth of his body and the comfort his voice brought to her. For the past couple of months, Asher had been a constant in her life. And while their relationship had begun our of pure chance and maybe a bit of boredom, it blossomed into something that Xy would trade for the world. She cared deeply for him, there was no doubt about that. Asher made her happy, encouraged her to do better in all areas of her life, and was always by her side when she needed him most. Since landing back in LA, she had been counting down the days until she got to spend time with him again.

Xyla shut her laptop and pushed it to the edge of the desk before carefully unloading the contents of the take-out bag. As she pulled out each container the scent of all the the herbs, spices and various sauces wafted in the air between them. Her mouth began to water as laid them out on the desk. “Home was alright. Quinn is drowning in her undergrad but she’s pushing through. She actually has a boyfriend now and he came over for our Christmas Eve party. He’s an idiot so I hope it doesn’t last, but she seems happy for now. And Rowan is the same as she’s always been, trying to control every aspect of our lives. And my parents are alright. Mom wants to renovate the entire kitchen and my dad thinks a sports car is a good investment. To me it sounds like going through their mid-life crisis’ but if I said that to their faces they’d kick me out faster than you can say Villanueva,” Xy rambled, laughing a little at the memory of her time back home. It felt nice to talk about intimate things such as family life with Asher, when once upon a time all they really talked about was sex and the next time they’d have it. Letting him in on this part of her life, and his interest in those that meant the most to her was reassuring that things were moving in the right direction. “No hometown man. The only man worth talking about was stuck in his empty LA Hills mansion,” she continued, her lips curling into a smirk.

Now that she had mentally clocked out of work, she reached up and pulled her dark hair from the bun it was held in. She let her hair fall down her shoulders, and shrugged off the deep purple blazer that lay across her shoulders, allowing her to put work behind her and enjoy their impromptu dinner date. “What about you? How were your holidays? Kiss anyone under the misletoe? What about at New Years?” She wondered before digging her fork into her favourite pad thai.

sunday mornings were one of the many reasons she had come back to los angeles. more importantly, the brunches. bottomless mimosas and pastries at republique and the latest gossip on their clinents with her favorite work friend, miss xyla. their work relationship turned into a blossoming friendship where they saw each other at least once a week, every sunday brunch for sure. so when violet left for paris, it was hard leaving her friend without a word. but they kept in touch through texting and skype. that was never a problem. they talked constantly, and it was as if she never left. 

when violet came back, all she wanted was her sunday morning brunch mimosa with xyla. and learn whatr has been happening in her friends life. the smile grew on her face as she saw the bronze beauty sitting in their usual table spot. it’s like it hasn’t changed. “i know amor, but surely you can forgive me.” she teased as she returned the hug xyla gave her before sitting down. “and maybe this can help.” she said, reaching in her purse and pulling out a silk scarf she had gotten specifically for her friend. “one hundred percent silk, a paris original and only one in existance. just for you.” she smiled handing her the scarf. “just think of it as a welcome back present from me.” she grinned looking at the menu. “and let me buy the first round of mimosas as you tell what exciting thing is happening in xyla world.” 

Love languages were real, and it was clear Violet knew the way to Xyla’s heart and the key to forgiveness. The brunette watched with wide eyes as her blonde counterpart snaked the beautiful silk scarf out of her purse, holding it out with two hands. “You, my love, are 100% forgiven,” Xy laughed, reaching out for the scarf and running it’s smooth material through her fingers. She really appreciated Violet’s presence in her life, not because she brought her gifts from beautiful, romantic cities, but because she was thoughtful, kind and seemed to approach life the same way she did. “God, now I feel terrible for not getting you something. But then again, I highly doubt that a purse from our typical shopping stomping grounds would be of any value in contrast to this,” Xy said as she settled back into the booth.

Xyla scanned through the menu as she waited for Violet in their regular booth. It had been months since she’d last seen Violet in person, and while she tried to keep up with her life in Paris, stories via FaceTime were nothing in comparison to the real thing. It wasn’t long before she noticed a blonde halo of hair approach her, and a grin spread clear across Xyla’s lip. “You’ve missed the last 9 Sunday brunches,” she scolded playfully before stepping out of the booth and pulling Violet in for a warm hug. She’d missed her friend in the months she was gone, and there were so many things she wanted to tell her.