017: return reliefs
day 7.05
"No," Fiona Pastelle rushes, refusing Elijah's want (to look at the pictures) immediately. She picks the polaroids up and her eyes well up. "No, oh my god." Without thinking any further, she pushes her seat back, getting up and gathering her breakfast plate and the pictures up. She runs to Dakota's room, closing the door with a loud thud.
"So, we don't want these pancakes to burn," Elijah optimistically says, taking Fiona's cooking position. Arthur sighs, not feeling hungry. He turns on his heel and stomps up the stairs. A few seconds later, they hear a slam of a shutting door.
Inside Dakota's room, Dakota's sitting on the bed, with her head in her hands. Her clothes from the previous night are strayed across the floor and she's wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts. The heels of her palms are pressed against her temples, as she visibly counts to ten.
"Dakota?" Fiona softly whispers, her back against the door, as she looks at the ground.
Dakota looks up and smiles sadly at her, cocking her head to the side. "I knew you'd want to talk," Dakota quietly says. Fiona notices that she's obviously still mad at what happened between her and Arthur, so she excuses herself and goes to walk out. "Oh, Fiona, don't leave," Dakota assures. "You need to talk more than I do and I owe you answers." Fiona's eyes are unsure so Dakota suppresses her uneasy feelings. "Come sit," she says, patting a free spot in front of her. Without further questioning, Fiona walks over and sets herself gently onto the seat.
A few moments of silence pass, with Fiona only looking at the pictures.
To break the ice, Dakota says, "I'd understand why you were so happy back then."
Fiona smiles a velvet one, not once taking her eyes off the pictures before her. Then with a small voice, she asks, "How'd you know?"
"Well," Dakota begins, feeling a little more like herself. Talking about others really helps her to take her mind of problems in her life. "He said his name."
"Yeah?" Fiona whispers, not believing that this is actually happening.
"Yah. We plays twenty questions and I asked him if he knew a girl named Fiona. And it snapped in him," tells Dakota. "He's really sweet."
"I know," Fiona grins, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "What did he say then?"
"He made me tell him everything about you. Every single detail which wasn't much. And. . . he looked proud Fiona," Dakota explains, glad she is able to make someone happy again.
"But he kissed you," Fiona mumbles.
Dakota snorts, chuckling, making Fiona snap her head up in confusion. "You're wrong, Peaches. He only talked about you for the rest of the night. He felt bad so he let me stay over. In different rooms of course. But it didn't work out cause he came back in and asked me to tell him more about you and how you're doing. So, basically, your lover kept me awake all night and I got zero sleep."
Fiona beams at her but then it fades away. "Why didn't he just come?"
Dakota takes her hand in hers and rubs it. Reassuringly, she says, "He's scared. He thinks that you won't take him back. And he thinks that you've moved on and so should he."
"Really?" Fiona asks, hopefully. Dakota nods. Then she looks down, shaking her head, with a small smile on her face. She mutters, "God, Thomas Clinton."
"Indeed," Dakota nods, seeming to understand how Fiona feels for Thomas. With a nudge, Dakota urges, "Aren't you going to go after him?"
Fiona looks up, blushing. Of course, she's going to go meet him. He's Fiona's first love and nothing will ever change that. It wasn't as if they didn't like each other. It's just that the circumstances weren't right, with him moving to a different state and everything. Fiona misses his charming smile and Brazilian heritage too much to forget him. He remains prominent in her thoughts and she'd be lying if she were to say that she doesn't think about what life would be life if she was here. And this might be her chance to make it a reality, so there's no way in hell she's letting that slip away.
"Tell me where he is?" Fiona pouts. Dakota giggles, leaning over to the nightstand and grabbing a pen and paper. She scribbles a cottage number onto it and hands it to Fiona.
Fiona hurriedly gets up, rushing to the door. Just as she's about to leave, she turns and advises Dakota, "Talk to Arthur, please. If anything, he's jealous." With that, she leaves the room.
This leaves Dakota flabbergasted and deep in her thoughts. So, with that, Dakota wears a pair of socks and leaves her room, as well.
+ +
"Hah, lol, look at this picture of Arthur," Brooke laughs, showing Elijah and Calvin the picture she took of Arthur smoking last night.
"Fucking hell," Calvin yells. "Did you give him a cigarette?"
Brooke raises her eyebrows at him. "He asked for one and plus he's an adult, he can do what he wants."
"I don't want him to smoke!"
"Aw, are you developing a bromance with him?" Brooke teases.
"Hollins, fuck off," Calvin rolls his eyes, walking away from the conversation.
"We need a swear jar," Elijah comments, helping Brooke decorate the mountain of pancakes they cooked up.
"Well, we might need two because Dakota just went upstairs," Brooke comment, shaking her head. "Five bucks, they're going to make-out."
"Five, they're going to swear and yell at each other," Calvin says.
"Okay, five dollars, they're going to talk it out calmly, or at least sort of," Elijah pitches in.
"Deal," the other two say.
"Until then, how about we go out somewhere. The three of us, because I have no clue why Fiona rushed out of the door without any sort of explanation," Brooke suggests.
"Nah, man," Elijah declines, plopping onto the couch with the pancake mountain on a plate and in his hands. "I'm gonna watch Friends and eat this."
"Fine, lazy-ass," Calvin rolls her eyes. He turns to Brooke, who's standing on the opposite end and asks, "You and I, Hollins?"
Brooke's heart slightly jumps at the thought of him asking her to go alone. Then she cusses herself for being stupid. She can't possibly like a person she hated like three days ago and now be on a crush level with him? And she knows she doesn't like him so she brushes off the small feeling.
It must me the fact that Brooke's never had any friends who were warm and kind to her. Her friends only met with her when they needed to go eat or needed to party somewhere but didn't want to show up alone.
"Yeah, sure, why not?" Brooke shrugs. "I'll go get ready and I'll meet you down in five," she says, jogging up the stairs and into her room. She rummages through her closet and finally settles for a mustard tee and a pair of skinny denim trousers and some black healed chelsea boots. After examining her reflection in the mirror, Brooke throws a couple of essentials into her backpack, before grabbing it and heading out of her and Fiona's room.
It's funny that they didn't have an discussions about the rooms. The boys just happened to end up together and Dakota got lucky with her own private one.
In the hallway, Brooke sees Calvin come out of the boys' room. His eyes are wide and he looks terribly uncomfortable. Then, Brooke realises that he came out of the room where Dakota and Arthur are 'talking'. "What happened?" Brooke grins, wanting to know the gossip.
Calvin walks as he speaks, "They were talking over each other and it was a mess. I didn't hear anything, they just stopped when I walked in. As soon as I went into the bathroom," Calvin pauses, ushering Brooke to walk down the stairs before him. Brooke smiles at the gesture. Walking behind her, he continues, "they began to argue once more. They were yelling, talking, swearing — it's messed up really."
"So, all of us won?" Brooke says, completely ignoring the part about the angry pair upstairs.
Calvin chuckles, "Technically, yes." Brooke shrugs her shoulders in response.
Downstairs, Elijah's laughing at Ross and Rachel rapping, whilst chewing a mouthful of pancake. He waves goodbye to Brooke and Calvin, returning to his binge-watching immediately.
"Bye, Elijah," Brooke sings, rolling her eyes. Calvin laughs, giving him a high-five, before grabbing his and beside Elijah and walking out of the door, with Brooke following him.
They're walking underneath the basking sun. Brooke's squinting, her eyes not being able to take the sun shining on them.
Calvin snaps his fingers. He swings his backpack to the front, unzipping it. He takes out a baseball hat, and puts it on top of Brooke's head. Brooke giggles, adjusting the khaki coloured cap on her hat. She thanks him, smiling.
"So, were are we going?" Brooke questions.
"I think they have a few rides, so we'll go there first. Then we'll grab some lunch," Calvin plans. Brooke nods in agreement, kicking a few rocks on the ground. "I never go to ask you about your date. . "
"Well. . It was nice. She was nice. But I don't think there will ever be a second date because, to be quite honest, she lives far away and I don't think I can do a long-distance relationship," Brooke spills. She feels stupid for confiding in a person she barely knows, but at the back of her head, she can assure herself that Calvin isn't going to go around telling people.
"Oh, yeah. First relationship and all, eh, Hollins?" Calvin teases.
"How do you think the others will react if I tell them I'm bi-sexual?" Brooke inquires.
"Don't you just love Chandler Bing?" Calvin shoots back.
"What?"
"Exactly."
"Huh?"
"Hollins. . "
"What. . . oh!"
"I'm going to go ahead and answer your question: they won't judge you. I know I think that some are quite judge-mental but I really don't think they'll care or be bothered," Calvin truthfully answers. "I mean you probably thought I was the biggest meanie around but look at how I turned out. I accept you and I'm hundred percent sure everyone else will, as well."
Brooke gently smiles at him, her chest warming (partially due to the sun) from his words. It's welcoming to know that she has these people (who she can safely call her friends) with her, who accept her for who she is and Brooke doesn't feel the need to pretend around them.
Brooke takes his cap off before tying her hair back. Then she puts it on again, only to have Calvin comment, "Your hair's turned blond, you know? Is it your natural hair colour?"
Brooke smiles. "Yeah."
"Why did you dye it?" Calvin asks.
Brooke gulps, but answers him. He knows so much about her that she really doesn't care if he knows more. "I just wanted myself to feel good. I wanted to make myself believe as though I don't belong to my family. So, I turned my hair platinum to make sure that I knew that I would never be a true Hollins."
"Hollins, let me tell you something," Calvin sighs, slinging an arm over her shoulders. He looks at her and firmly says, "Stop being so hard on yourself."
"But it's true no matt—"
"Listen, here, munchkin. Have they ever done anything to physically hurt you? Mentally hurt you? Without you twisting their words and taking it to the heart?"
Brooke's speechless.
"Look, I know, it's alright to have a soft heart. But lets toughen it up for the good. Because you're a Hollins and I bet Hollins' don't back down," Calvin encouragingly says.
Brooke looks up at him and is glad that his cap manages to hide her glossy eyes from him. Then after a while of her just staring and them walking, she confesses, "You make me feel good about myself."
Calvin wasn't expecting anything like that to come his way. But it does. And it makes his heart feel a certain way. A good way. But different.
Looking into her eyes makes Calvin question why he's spent so much time on one-night stands when he knows he can love. It isn't Brooke exactly, it's just that she's a reminder of that. He, too, is a reminder for her.
"You are and always were good, I guess, Brooke. I'm just bringing that to the surface," Calvin tenderly whispers.
Brooke gives him a ginger smile, her mind swarming with different emotions and her stomach jumping up and down. She can barely control herself right now.
+ +
Fiona Pastelle brushes the invisible dust off her pants skinny pale jeans. She pats herself for atleast changing her pajama bottoms because, now, that she's standing in front his cottage door, she curses herself for not dressing up properly. Soon, she finds herself not caring because she remembers him telling her that she's best dressed down.
Fiona only dresses up to impress people around her. She feels the need to live up to her parents standards. People are always complimenting them and to prove herself to be a Pastelle, Fiona wears clothes that make her feel slightly uncomfortable however confident at the same time.
Although Fiona owns a stylish, high-end wardrobe, she's standing in front of a door, dressed in skinny jeans, her trust-worthy Adidas shoes and her loose, striped pajama button-up. Her hair is slightly messy and her eyes are wild and awake.
Using her morning coffee's energy, Fiona knocks on the door. Instantly, she hisses. She completely forgets about who her love might be with, if this is appropriate to do and if he is even awake at this time. It's close to noon, however it's summer vacation.
Before she can make any more decisions and cuss at herself, the door opens wide.
With messy dark hair and tired eyes, a man looks up. His eyes fill with light, like a wildfire. His face turns into one of complete shock and he just stares — and stares. His lips are red just like she remembers them and his silver eyes are just as beautiful. She remembers this face — it's tiredness mixed with excitement. She knows him all too well.
Knowing that the damage has been done, Fiona utters a few words. "I guess this is 'soon'?"
Thomas Clinton blinks. He doesn't believe anything right now. He doesn't know his name — he doesn't know anything except for the girl before them.
Then Thomas' hand leaves the door and he takes a short step forward, wrapping his hands around Fiona's frame. Her body seems shorter in front of his, despite Fiona being called a 'tall girl' countless amount of times.
Fiona wastes no time to hold him in her hand. Her hand wind around his neck, rubbing his shoulders, caressing his body. Her head is resting on his shoulder as he lays his head at the crook of her neck, breathing her in. The strong smell of Fiona lingers and he remembers it. He remembers the expensive perfume she always uses, making her aura smell of gold. She wears it so much that it's pretty much blended into the way she smells without the perfume.
"You came," Thomas whispers, hotly in her ear, not once letting her go. "I'm sorry for leaving, I fucked up. I fucked us up."
"You couldn't do anything about it," Fiona calmly replies, holding onto him. "But what're you worrying about now? I'm here — you're here, with me."
Thomas pulls back, making Fiona feel instantly cold.
Then Fiona notices how much he's grown. He's gotten taller, his frame is no longer lanky. His jawline is defined — gosh, how much Fiona's missed him.
Then, they're giving each other a certain look. They both know the look all too well. It's the same look they gave one another before the first kiss they shared — or to say: the only kiss they have ever shared.
Thomas' mouth descends upon hers, capturing her in a sweet kiss. All the void parts left in them are filled with life, setting their bodies alight. The feelings rushes through their veins, consuming their bodies with a million supernovas within. Her hand tangling into his hair makes them almost cry because they missed each other so much. Their love for one another is found when Thomas cups her cheek in one hand, his other resting on her hip.
Fiona doesn't care that they're the morning. Because it's a brilliant start to the day.
So, he's pulling her in, seemingly assuring her that it's only them. It's their moment when her legs wrap around his torso and Thomas pushes her against the wall of the stairs. It seems to take them awhile to get into his room, upstairs but neither of them cares about anything else when Thomas gently tosses her onto the bed.
Both with incredibly goofy smiles on their faces, celebrate them with whispers words and heated kisses.
+ +
"Will you listen to me, Art—"
"— All I'm trying to say is —"
Dakota and Arthur have been fighting for over an hour. They just can't seem to get their points across. They're talking over each other, not once letting the other finish, since they're determined to put the other one at fault.
"Shut up, alright!" Dakota practically screams. This creates a thundering silence in the cottage. It is then that they notice that they seem to be the only one in the cottage, to which they're thankful. After a few moments of taking in the surprising calmness, Dakota angrily spits out, "We're getting nowhere!"
"Oh, I'd beg to differ," comments Arthur, sarcastically, running a hand through his hair.
Dakota wants to say something rude but instead, settles for, "What're we fighting about anyway? That I went out with a guy? Really? No one else seems to be mad about it, why are you?"
"You're adding more fire than solving the problem, Dakota," Arthur snorts.
"Think it's the time to be a brat and argue about this, Bradley?" Dakota sternly says, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting an eyebrow.
"Well, I'm so confused as to what we've been doing so far," Arthur comments.
"Don't pull a Chandler Bing on me," Dakota warns. "I'm still pissed at you." Of course, Arthur doesn't know what she's talking about but he brushes it off (he really hasn't watches all of Friends.) "I still don't understand why you're so mad! It's my fucking life! I can sleep with whoever I want and you should have absolutely no problem with that!"
"Really? And don't you think it's a little irresponsible of you to do so?" Arthur shoots back.
"Arthur Bradley, you shut up right now!" Dakota scolds.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know had a third parent!" Arthur hisses.
Dakota's brain's a short fuse, which is repeatedly being hit. Anger boils within her, further. "You don't know what I did?"
"And I'm glad!"
"Really? You're glad that I did nothing with the boy I went in and that boy happened to be Fiona's love! Good to know we're on the same page!" Dakota blandly states. With that, Dakota's shoulder slump and her zero sleep takes a toll on her. Her eyes keep fluttering close and this fight with Arthur has worn her out?"
Dakota sees Arthur's neck redden and his cheeks flush. He doesn't say anything. Dakota isn't sure if she's won or he's just as tired as her to say anything else.
So, she walks past him and flops onto the bed, snuggling in the sheets.
Her tired state immediately causes her body to get ready for a long rest. However, she opens her eyes and looks at Arthur, mumbling, "Can we please just sleep right now and talk about this later?" Arthur's stiff frame is taken as a 'yes', so she turns over and covers her body up with the blanket there. Snuggling into the pillow, which smells of men's cologne, she takes a deep breath before blocking her mind from listening to anything of the outside world.
Although she's beyond exhausted, Dakota hears feet shuffling and footsteps. Mere seconds later, a hand brushes through her hair. Just for less than a second. Then the hand disappears and she misses it. She wants to call out to Arthur to play with her hair for just a little more time but she knows that highly risky.
Not only that, she doesn't understand how someone as serious as Arthur would pull a move like that. A move that pulls at her heartstrings, desperately. It isn't the hand, it's Arthur. She curses herself for now beginning to over think. She clutches the sheets tighter to her but she has no energy within her so they slip away. Then she lays in a position, which best expresses her weariness.
Within a second, Dakota's mind is shutting away and she is damn thankful for that. She faintly registers the bed dipping beside her and something slipping under the blankets as well. Inwardly, she smiles, knowing exactly who it is. She wants to turn around and snuggle.
Dakota's eyes fly open at the thought, widening. She gulps, trying to think of all the possibilities of this though passing through her mind. She brushes off the sudden, surprising thought and closes her eyes, trying not to overthink. Luckily, her extreme tiredness takes her over, making her fall into a well deserved sleep.