♡ * & ; ——– She constantly feared for Jason’s safety, it wasn’t something the female would be able to change, either. The man she loved was constantly putting himself in danger each day he walked out that door to go to work. Knowing that his coworkers were injured in the line of duty only made her all the more concerned. Sure, Jason had been spared this time, but what was going to guarantee that he’d be
unscathedthe next time ? While she was fully supportive of her husbands dreams, she hoped he could understand that she wouldn’t stop being concerned about him every day. She remembered the promise, she would never forget it, however, Cassidy knew that deep down, he couldn’t guarantee his own safety. Jason worked in a dangerous and unpredictable field, anything could happen to him, and she didn’t like to think about that. ❝ I know you promised, honey, ❞ she spoke softly, a sigh escaping from her lips, ❝ I just can’t help the fact that I worry. When bad things happen to your colleagues, it makes me worry about you so much more, because how am I supposed to know that something’s not going to happen to you next ? ❞
Jason knew that his wife worried about him, and oftentimes he felt incredible guilt for it. She hadn’t asked for him to get a job where his life would often times be in the danger due to the piece of metal that protected as much as endangered him, but he also couldn’t help that it was his calling. He was better at it than he was anything else, and it brought him purpose to bring justice to loved ones. He just hoped and prayed each day that someday someone would not have to do his job for his own family. He pulls his wife in close after she’s done talking, breathing in her scent and giving a little sigh. “I promise to not get into any situations without backup, or to put myself in unnecessary danger. You have to believe, and trust that I am always doing everything I can to come home to you.”
Not many nights passed by where Elijah was a free man so he was going to make the most of the beautiful night ahead, knowing he held no responsibilities in the morning. Plans were to head out with the boys, grab some drinks, flirt around and make his way back to his bed. By the time the evening rolled around, the plans had altered and Elijah was making way to an upcoming club. Whilst he’d heard good things, clubs weren’t really his scene but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make the most.
Suited up in a casual beige blazer, blue jeans, Elijah forgot what his wardrobe looked like outside of his uniform or sweatpants.
At the entrance of the club, he greeted the security guard, an old friend of his. They exchanged small talk before he entered into the club. The bass of the speakers caused the floor beneath him to vibrate, the room was crowded which made it that much more difficult to find his friends. Fuck it, drink it was. He squeezed through to the bar, slightly nudging against another. His eyes darted to the her, an apologetic expression shared. His lip slightly parted but he was beaten to the punch,
The corner of Elijah’s lip curved slightly into a hinted smirk as his eyes looked down for a moment before glancing over to meet the woman’s gaze by his side. “Oh so chivalrous.” He responded, giving the dark haired woman a head nod. “Well why don’t you go ahead and guess the drink I would order, and I’ll let you know if it does ‘match the man’ as you put it.” His head turned to one of the waiters, grabbing hold of their attention. “In return, I’ll guess yours.” He held his smirk, returning to gaze at the gorgeous woman by his side.
She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to men turning her down. As in, it literally never happened to her, and it wasn’t going to start today. It’s not like others really had a choice in the matter, as no matter what your preference Leah was a force of nature and hard to look away from. When combined with the colorful lights playing across those cheekbones and her unfathomable gaze, it was really a home run. A small knowing grin curves her lips when the handsome man in question responds to her, leaning down and giving her an assessing gaze. She gladly lets him look his fill, even shifting her feet so that her legs and ass moves attractively behind her.
“They say it’s dead, but I’m bringing it back.” Leah murmurs in response, running a hand through her loose hair. He seems to be just as into the tease as she is, and she is glad that he was going to keep making it fun. Made it a bit more interesting. The man easily grabs the attention of the tender, and she gamely leans in with him, her arm gently brushing his. “Sounds like a fun game. If I’m too far off the mark, don’t hold it against me?” She orders him a rum and coke, and flicks her gaze up at him while she waits to see what he’ll go with.
“I’ve missed you too,” Hollis replies, arms wrapping around her friend for a moment before she enters her apartment. It’s much easier for the professor to socialize during the Summer. Once the school year rolls around, her responsibilities get priority. She considers herself lucky that Evan understands and is willing to bear with her. As she enters the apartment, she realizes how much she’s missed its cozy interior as well — and then there’s Revere, who comes rushing towards her before she can even ask about him. “Didn’t miss the best dog in Klover? You’re kidding, right?” she jokes, petting Revere’s head before looking up at her friend. “I swear, he gets bigger every time I see him.” She straightens up after a moment. “So, how’ve you been? What’s been going on in the magical world of Evan?”
“You too, Holl.” Aside from Cassidy, Evan counted Hollis are one of her closest girlfriends. With two careers teaching, though one way more books and tests rather than spot kicks and matches, it was often hard to get together. The apartment has a ridiculous amount of floor space for someone who didn’t exactly have a high paying job, but that was what you got when you got a monthly stipend even aside from the trust funds they never used. It helps, when it came to the care of a dog as big as hers. Revere licks her hands and head buts her with affection, though he returns to Evan’s side shortly afterwards. The little party moves further into the room, Evan motioning for her friend to take a seat at the bar. Her kitchen is wide and not used as often as it should be, but there are two glasses ready and a bottle of Evan’s favorite red wine ready to share. “Tell me about it. Every day it feels like there’s less space for me in my own damn bed.” At her question she sighs, and twists her lip a little before looking back up at her friend, opening the bottle. “Not a lot. Unless you count kid drama, I really could be doing a lot more with my life. I’m afraid I’m starting to get boring. And lonely.”
To expect Tristan to have his thoughts collected in this instance was a mistake. By now, Tristan should have known what to say to Clea, apologising profusely, begging to be by her side, offering solutions to his fuck up. But Tristan’s mind was fucked up and had been for years. All he knew and all he could say was that he loved Clea like the stars loved the moon. How every night they shared the night sky, he wanted to share the rest of his life with Clea. Instead he stood there, his vocal chord twisting as he tried to utter something that would show Clea that he missed her.
Tristan was not expecting forgiveness, hell, he was not expecting Clea to take a time out of her day to acknowledge him. Flashback to the night Clea asked him to leave their home, Tristan recalled the exchanges they made. The reminders of how badly he fucked up, how he broke Cleas. He was silent most of the time because as much as Clea wanted the details of his sordid one night stand, he couldn’t put her through it, nor did he want to relive his biggest regret.
With the mention of his hair, his brushed his fingers through his untameable strands, attempting to make himself look more appealing than he probably presented. “I should be the one asking.” He huffed, eyes dropping to the floor. Truthfully, Tristan did not want to know because he knew Clea and couldn’t bear knowing he was he cause. It sounded selfish but Tristan needed to find ways to move forward with or without Clea.
“I – uh, I got a job.” His voice peaked with more confidence. Since his return, this was an accomplishment. His eyes picked back up, locking onto hers, allowing himself to take her presence in. Could he really walk away from her all over again? His heart ached at the idea. “I wanted to call you but I wasn’t so sure you’d pick up.. I used to think I knew what you’d be thinking but right now, I have no inklng.” Tristan let out a deep sigh, his facial expression tensed. “And if we’re being honest, I miss that I could. I miss you. I know I dont have much right saying that but I want you to know that. ”
In all reality it hadn’t been that long - hell they’d gone much longer, without laying eyes on each other in real life, a byproduct of her being a military wife and an unfortunate root of many of those early problems, but this has been different. This time, it wasn’t the government taking him away, wasn’t squadron orders or a new designation. This time, it had been her. Clea had good reason for it, don’t get her wrong, but for it being the first time that power in their relationship seemed to be in her hands, she didn’t like it. Her palms and fingertips itched with it, and she ached to give it back. For all that she constantly needed to be the one who had it all together, she had always treasured being able to melt into her husband and have him be the one holding it for her.
(He hadn’t done that in a long time.)
There was a tiny roll of her shoulders, vulnerable and stark. “I don’t think either of us would like the truth of that answer if you had asked.” Clea answers quietly, pressing her lips briefly together. She had no control over the part of her endlessly taking mental pictures to remember later, but it was what drove her to track the movement of his hands through that hair, a movement she’d seen endless times.
At his news, there came a tiny jump in her heart, a near imperceptible uptick of her dark brows. “A job?” She echoes, the sliver of surprise in it an understatement. The last time he’d gotten a position anywhere…god, she almost couldn’t remember it. In college, perhaps, before the engagement.
Pride suffuses her, instant and unasked for, regardless of Clea’s shock. She had never doubted his ability to gain one, after all. As much as she’d come to hate the armed forces he’d been a part of, she’d never had a doubt that his fellows were lucky to have her husband watching their back.
(Maybe he should’ve done a little more watching hers, instead.)
I miss that I could. I miss you. I know I don’t have much right saying that but I want you to know that.
Clea’s eyelashes flutter a little at the forbidden words, one of billions, trillions that surrounded them in the bookstore but meaning worlds more when they came from him. The strength to respond to them came from a place she’d only begun to draw from in the wake of that terrible day in therapy, a place she needed to lean heavily on just to get through the day. “You don’t. But…I’m glad for it, just the same.”
She wonders, if they would have fallen this far, if he had said those same words more often in their past. “Where are you staying?”
Having only been settled in Klover for the past two years, Leah had nonetheless found it easy to assess everything that the town had to offer and decide on some places to make her presence known. The purpose of having old haunts was to already establish yourself in a place with those familiar with it, and Leah had several of those. Tonight, however, she was interested in something a little different.
It was for this reason that she’d stepped long legs out of her town car to go to a club she’d never been to before, it already chalking up a point in its favor when the bouncer took one look at her and ushered her in, ignoring the line of people. Once inside Leah was quick to discover that it was just as chic as she had heard and read, a mirror reflected ceiling throwing purple and blue lights around the dark space. People were everywhere, it being a Saturday night after all.
Her lacy heels were navy like the tight denim dress that clung to her form, off the shoulder and low cut, and her inky hair fell loose and easy around her shoulders. The first thing that Leah does once inside is order two shots of their top shelf vodka, downing them quickly to get her night started. An unexpectedly large fan of eating after she had been drinking rather than before, the spirits didn’t take long to zing through her blood stream, though she wasn’t quite where she wanted to be yet.
Ordering one more, Leah felt a large warm presence slide in next to her at the bar, cutting a curious and assessing gaze their way immediately. What she saw could not help but to incite an immediate spark in her eyes.
Blinking at him before he spoke, Leah did instead. “I’m waiting.” She proffers as an explanation, mischievous grin turning her lips. “For you to order your drink, so I can find out if the drink matches the man. Go ahead, don’t let me get in the way.”
He thought the days were longer across the seas but Tristan was wrong. Every passing moment since the spill of his wrongdoing felt like an eternity, not even Hell could compare to the sinking feeling in his gut. The days grew longer and Tristan was coming to terms that his marriage was over. There was no going back.
His friends encouraged him to throw himself into some form of distraction and so he did. Spending the last few weeks at a friend’s, Tristan needed an excuse to not overstay his welcome so he would head out. It started on as days with nowhere to go, hopeful that he could return to his home. Eventually, Tristan knew he would need to look for a more permanent setting. In between flat hunting lead to countless trips to coffee shops, small on going events in Klover and his usual favourite pastime, the bookstore.
It was usually quiet, a quaint store that was barely filled with customers but today the shop was busy. Tristan didn’t mind it. It appeared everyone else had the same idea as he did. His eyes travelled through the aisle of books till he reached a section that peaked his interest. He reached for a book and opened it, beginning to browse through. With his head tilted, Tristan’s unruly hair fell, blocking his view of his surrounding. It was pure luck that feeling someone’s presence did he glance up.
Tristan could feel his heart tugging in his chest. For a moment, Tristan could only think about how beautiful his wife was. How he missed the sound of her soft soothing voice when he needed to hear it. He blinked a few more times, to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Was this a sign of fate? hope? Tristan gulped as he gazed into her dark hued eyes, witnessing the reliving of the sorrow the day he told her the truth.
“Hi.” Was all he could muster himself up to say. He cursed himself for not being able to say more because he wanted to. To repeat how sorry he was for the what he had done, sorry for not loving Clea more than she deserved. There was only two ways this conversation could lead and Tristan wasn’t hopeful that it would go the way he wanted. “I guess we had the same idea.” He coughed, his eyes shifting over to the collection of books. One of his favorite things about Clea was the way she would get lost in fairytale endings. He hated that he was the reason she was not living reality in the same way.
If you put a gun to her head there and then, Clea could not have told you a single thing about the book she had tightly clutched in slightly too cold hands. Not the cover, the author, when it was set or when she’d picked it up. All she could suddenly focus on was this man, and the quiet rageandhurt that turned tumultuously in her gut. Anger, after all, had been her primary emotion, angry tears that had led her to smacking her palm against the wall of their shower, to breaking more than a few glasses in the weeks they’d been apart and the one, isolated instance of burning a blanket they’d gotten as a wedding gift in the woods.
The last thing, something Clea would never cop to, had been the last together act of a visit from her older sister Kate earlier the past week. The annoying youngest, Clea often felt the most distant of her large family, but Kate was the one half sister that considered herself Clea’s keeper, and it was she who Clea had spilled the news to. It had meant so much to Clea that her high powered lawyer and mother of two sister had taken time off to spend the weekend with her little sister, but she had forced Clea to answer the questions she’d been too afraid to give to herself.
Do you still love him?
Clea did. Still with everything she had, though parts of her were tainted with hurt that would never be whole again. She hated that she did, maybe, but there had been a reason she’d said yes to his proposal when everyone thought they were far too young to be thinking of such things. Clea had looked into his eyes, and known to her core that there would never be another man who’d tempt her like him. Whose embrace she’d feel safest in, whose smile she’d never get tired of, whose life would always entangle with hers. Clea still loved him, the bastard, even though he’d taken the fragile bits of that too tight heart and been foolish it, clumsy and destructive.
Do you think you could forgive him?
Maybe. Maybe she could. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But she wouldn’t be able to do it by herself. Clea shouldn’t have to. Tristan should have to prove that he was worth forgiving because he truly had hurt her so. This, this is why instead of turning tail and running, knowing he wouldn’t come after he, the dark haired woman willed her feet to turn to cement and her spine to grow ramrod straight and swallowed a stuttering breath hard, with something nearly akin to a weak smile playing on her lips. “You know what they say. Think alike, and all.” Her dark, dark eyes flit to his long hair, sable strands that she’d run her fingers through more time than she could ever count. “You need a haircut.” Clea adds, nonsensical and soft. “How, um. Have you been?”
♡ * & ; ——– She hated seeing the other down, there was nothing she wanted more than for her best friend to find happiness. Cassidy knew she’d found hers when she was young, she also knew that not everybody was as fortunate as she was in their love lives. She wanted her best friend to find love, too. She chuckled at Evan’s words, shaking her head slightly. Cassidy wasn’t the type of student who had to pay visits to the principal when she was growing up, she was the model student, granted, she also spent a lot of time away from school while she was acting and did most of her work on the road. ❝ Right, of course not. You’re totally collected, all of the time. ❞ She was happy to see that Evan had a great deal of confidence in herself, it was well placed, too. ❝ I promise you, the rest of the world is going to realize that, and you’re gonna have suitors lined up all throughout Klover. Sometimes the world takes time to catch up and understand those things. ❞
It wasn’t like she didn’t believe in herself. Or didn’t think she was capable of finding a partner, that much Evan knew. It was more than, she wasn’t ever sure she was going to find something lasting, and real. The thought of having that scared her just as much as not finding it. Privately, she always felt like of the two of them, Stella had always been the one more suited for a happy ending. Cassidy, bless her, made her feel better as usual after a gentle tease. She didn’t know what she’d do without the optimistic blonde, sometimes. Evan moves her leg and nudges Cassidy’s shoulder gently with it, a small smile threatening on her lips even as her fingers still tapped worriedly on the glass. “Thanks, C. Means a lot, and all. Just wish that the world wouldn’t take so long…I’ve spent the last eleven years working with kids. Maybe, you know. I want some myself one day.” The pity party has gone long enough, for Evan’s taste, liking her tough front to but up and secure, so she steadies her shoulders and sits up a little. “Enough about me. Hows the little man?” Noah is one of her favorite kids under the age of ten, and she was always interested in what her friends son was getting up to. “Showing any signs of his dad’s looks, yet?”
“I know the you’ve been busy, with the school year starting and all, but I’ve missed you.” Evan sighs, pulling the other woman in for a hug before she lets her in her apartment. The soccer coaches place is all warm colors and exposed brick, a knitted blanket from her grandma thrown over the back of the couch, the dishwasher about half full and in need of a go through. A big doggie bed in the corner of the living room would’ve announced the presence of her pet if he hadn’t been there, but Revere announced himself - all almost a hundred off pounds of lanky Irish wolfhound bounding excitedly towards Hollis, sandy scruffy hair and adoring brown eyes. He woofs, tail shaking his whole butt when Evan catches him by the collar. “Rev, bud, give me a second.” After the door is closed and shut she lets him go and lets him continue his greeting with her friend Hollis, the woman one of Revere’s favorite. “Bet you didn’t miss that though, now did ya.”
“Sometimes I feel like this shouldn’t be as fun as it is.” Drew remarks, stretching out her legs and crossing her ankles. It’s warm today, and her long legs stick out of jaggedly cut shorts, her shirt worn in butter soft from use. She and her friend Robin are hanging out on a picnic with hard lemonade and their favorite takeout while Cocoa, Angel, Marilyn and Cap played together. All four dogs had always got along rather well, much like their owners, and Drew found a friend like Robin indispensable. The dog park was right around the corner from where Drew lived, an easy ten, fifteen minute ish walk, and a common place for them to hang out. “I don’t know. Does that make any sense? We’re literally just watching them run around. And occasionally throwing toys.”
It’s been three weeks and some change. Three weeks, two days, and a short number of hours, if Clea was being honest about how every one of those seconds had drained her, just as had every moment since those words had fallen out of his mouth.
I slept…with someone else.
What an innocent phrase, when taken all apart. When dissected and removed from its real meaning, from the pain it constantly drew on her heart. They squeezed her heart in sharpened thorns, bleeding every time she took another breath. The worst part was, she still loved him. The worst part was, for as much as his broad muchness was out of their home, it had done the opposite, made the lack of him even more stark and crushing. The worst part was, Clea couldn’t even settle on which one it would be. Because it was all devastating.
It’s a nippy day, brisk wind requiring a jacket or maybe the occasional hat, and she is headed out on the way to her favorite bookstore in Klover. When her real life was terrible, Clea had always been able to drown it in the happily ever afters she could read so easily, and she’d been tearing them, using them to distance herself from the shattered remains of the beating thing inside her. Her long bob shone mahogany dark under a warm beanie, arms clad in a long, thick sweater dress. The store has a tiny bell that rings when she walks in, but no one looks up, the atmosphere content and full of people looking for books or reading. Just being there soothed Clea a little bit, and it was this feeling that she got to hold onto for a precious few minutes, before she walked around a shelf and got an eyeful of sable hair.
Her eyes widen, dark and fractured in the light streaming through the windows of the early afternoon. The debate of whether or not she would engage or run away like Clea so desperately wanted to was stolen from hair when a flick from that tall, tall height (thirteen years and she’d never be over it) has their gaze locking. Her heart begins to pound without any of her control, and she takes in a tiny bit of air as she regards her husband, the man who still held every piece of the heat he’d broken.
♡ * & ; ——– Cassidy felt bad, she wanted Evan to be able to find happiness, she didn’t know what she was going through, she couldn’t even begin to imagine how embarrassed she felt, so she was going to do her best to help take her mind off of it. She took a sip of her wine, pursing her lips slightly as she listened to Evan vent. ❝ Cm’on, you’ve had a few lectures from the principal in your day, right ? ❞ She attempted to make a joke, though she admitted it was probably a poor choice of one. She could understand that policy, knew that it wasn’t exactly ideal for teachers to become involved with a parent, it could easily create a slew of drama and bad publicity. ❝ Hey, I know it sucks, but there are other fish in the sea and there are definitely people here in Klover who would be lucky to have you. You’re a catch, Evan Hathaway and don’t you ever
forgetit. You’re going to make someone a very happy person one day, it just takes time. Screw the people who are stuck in the dark ages, they’re not worth your time. ❞
Evan’s dark eyebrows knit together when Cassidy brings back up her memories from the past, because yes, her friends was right. “Many. Most of which were my scraped up knees and getting into occasional fights with other girls. None of which I started, of course.” She assures, even though it’s definitely an exaggeration. Her temper only was under control for so long, after all. People really tried her patience, especially so when everyone felt their most insecure. “I know I’m a catch. Have you seen my leg muscles? I’m like Nike or something, goddess of victory. I’m just trying to get the rest of the world to realize that.” Hazel eyes cast towards Cassidy, her bottom lip poking out a little before she takes another sip. Thank God for alcohol. “Easy for you to say, Miss My-Flock-Was-Shepharded years ago. You guys have been magic forever. It’s really intimidating.”
34 Years Old, female, bisexual, made of class, current (kinda) stepmom, former trophy wife, recent widow, public figure
♡ * & ; ——– ❝ As your best friend, it’s my right to know all about these stories, even the embarrassing ones. I share everything with you, too. ❞ She wasn’t going to tease her best friend, Cassidy just liked knowing all of the stories, she was a listener, she wasn’t much of a story teller, as Cassidy felt her stories were never that interesting. She chuckled at Evan’s words, shaking her head slightly. She definitely couldn’t imagine the embarrassment the other felt after hitting on a players parent. ❝ I mean, that is pretty embarrassing, but I think you can overcome it. Did she seem into you ? I mean, you could get something out of this, potentially. ❞
“I guess.” Evan mumbles into the amber liquid, the memory turning sour a little bit in her head. It had not gone well. It had gone the opposite of well. Her gaydar had been completely off, the mom wasn’t into it at all, and she’d near turned her tongue blue apologizing. She even thinks she heard the mom talking to her daughter about whether or not it was too late to find another coach. The dark haired woman harrumphs again. “The only thing I might get out of it is a talking to from the principal. It’s kinda frowned upon to get involved or try to with teachers kids.” Fucking grouches. It wasn’t like she was trying to. “Sometimes I really wish it wasn’t stuck in the dark ages.”
one tree hill | 5x04
30 Years Old, female, pansexual, Dog Daycare Owner, flannel wearing, sarcastic , high maintenance, isn’t entirely convinced that people are better than dogs
♡ * & ; ——– @loloskids requested 💬 for cassidy + evan
♡ * & ; ——– ❝ Well ? What happened ? I want all the details. ❞ She expressed, tone indicating just how intently she was listening. She was always interested in hearing about the friends life, she was the type of person who cared deeply about the people in her life, so Cassidy was always willing to listen when it came to anything those individuals had to say.
“Why, do you have to hear about one of the most embarrassing flirting experiences of my life?” Evan takes another sip of her finger of whiskey and tilted her head back against the couch. Her legs are sprawled out in front of her one folded, the other hanging off the couch. She’s in her at-home clothes, an oversized old jersey and leggings, and somewhat bereaved by the story. “You don’t know regret until you accidentally hit on one of your players mom’s. How was I supposed to know? She’d never shown up to practice before and she was so, hot.”
♡ * & ; ——– @loloskids requested 💬 for cassidy + jason
♡ * & ; ——– ❝ A boy needs his father. ❞ She stated, the words falling heavily from her lips. Cassidy couldn’t help the fact that she worried about him, his line of duty wasn’t the safest, and she always feared the worst of things happening to the man she loved so dearly. She couldn’t imagine how horrible her life would be without him in it, couldn’t begin to fathom how much his absence would impact her, she only wanted the man to be safe, not only for her sake, but for the sake of their son, too. She knew how much he looked up to his father, and he didn’t want to ever have to explain to him that he wasn’t coming back home.
Jason might not be a whiz at everything scholarly, but if there was one subject he had always paid attention to, it was his wife. His heart shuddered a little when he’d enfolded her in his arms, wrapped in their living room. He’d been on a stakeout that night where shots had rang out, and one of his colleagues had gotten clipped, and sent to the hospital. He had been lucky, and it hadn’t been supposed to escalate - but the job, Jason knew, was fickle, and unpredictable. You never knew what you could be walking into. He smoothed back a piece of his wife’s golden curls and studied her eyes with his own, swaying a little. His detective badge still hung between them, pressed between their bodies, an allegory in itself. “I promised you, when you got pregnant with him, that I was going to be there, baby.” Jason brushed his thumb down the length of her neck, and took in a steady breath. “Noah’s going to have his father. For all of it, I promise.”