#int. clea and tristan

[loloskids]

Clea could be invested in the state of her nail beds all she wanted, but it wasn’t going to change where she was, here and now. Here, being on this couch, in front of a marriage therapist, with Tristan a scant foot away from her, on the opposite side. The car ride there had been quiet, but heavy, like a storm brewing, an indication of what might occur in this, their first session. As she’d been doing for so long now she couldn’t remember what it was like before she would worry at the smooth gold and bumpy opal of her wedding and engagement ring, and keep all her panic down. 

She was terrified, after all.

Terrified, that the therapist would say that she was the reason that she and Tristan’s marriage was failing. Terrified, that her parents had been right all those years ago, despite the cord that still pulled tight and thick between them even when on opposite sides of the house. Even, Clea’d thought, when he was overseas and the days had stretched too long since she’d heard from him, when she buried her face in one of his flannels and cried for the fear of losing him, whether it was physically or emotionally or in all the ways that counted.

So Clea was here. Here, ignoring, as she always did, the handsome cut of her husbands face. The parts of him that she knew as well as her own, the cords in strong wrists and cut of a strong jaw and the way that the words from his mouth either burned her from the inside out or cut at the ties between them. 

In front of them, their therapist Olivia cleared her throat, tapping her pen against her notebook. “We’re not going to get anywhere if neither of you will say anything, you know.”

tagging: @tristan-hawkins​

#world: klover #int. clea #int. clea and tristan #THEIR FIRST ONE #this got really fucking long i'm sorry

[loloskids]

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. 

Oh. You.

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.

tagging: @tristan-hawkins​

#int. clea #int. clea and tristan #the amounts of long this got #i'm so sorry

[loloskids]

❛ i’m the problem . and there’s nothing i can do about it . ❜ [ TRISTAN & CLEA ]

Clea is frozen, motionless on their bottom step, hands trembling where they clutched at her nightrobe. While the lavender silk has always been a source of comfort to her, it is no protection, no shield for the words that sound in their home like a gunshot. Her eyes, big, dark, and shattered in the dusky light of their living room lamp, can’t help but train on her husband, the man in question sitting heavily on their couch. It had been made into a makeshift bed, and it’s his first night back. His first after telling Clea...that.

They were bold words to say, honest and sharp, but not nearly as slicing as her shattered heart, spread around every inch of their home. Tristan’s long hair hides his face, but she knows there is shame there. It aches at her to know that it’s there, but not more than his betrayal did.

“You could’ve just not slept with her, Tristan.”

“If you know you’re the problem...” She whispers, unable to drop her gaze. “Then fix it, damn you. Because this...this is one so big it could finally break us.”

#int. clea #int. clea and tristan #im fucking emo #also look at my gif go me #nate-hayes

[loloskids]

‘ let me in.. ‘ ( clea + tristan )

She wasn’t prepared for this. 

To be fair, Clea hadn’t been prepared for any of it - hadn’t been prepared for the raw, bleeding hole in the middle of her chest that had been created by the news she’d heard only a day before - that Tristan had cheated.

Cheated.

And kept it a secret for so so long, and just...it was too much. She stood by her actions then, and she did now, her eyes locking with her husbands through the glass panel on their front door. His voice reaches her easily, pleading, but unluckily for him, they can’t replace that hearing it gives her. Wiping away a lone tear on her cheek, Clea’s lips wobble, but she keeps it together long enough to turn off the light of their entryway. 

She needs time.

#int. clea #int. clea and tristan #ouch tbh #nate-hayes

[loloskids]

❝ You know, I never really understood why you wanted to date me. It seems so unlikely. ❞ ( clea + tristan)

It’s three AM, not the right time for this conversation, but Tristan’s never really seemed to care about that. They’re in the shitty little apartment Clea shared with her best friend senior year of college, and she’s sitting on her counter lad in nothing but panties and one of Tristan’s hoodies, looking painfully oversized on her small figure. The forest green fabric was so worn that the scent of him was nearly woven into the fabric, which made it, of course, her favorite. Small hands cupped a mug of tea, prepared for her by her boyfriend, who was leaning on the sink across from her, all lean muscles and shaggy hair, doubting himself.

Clea’s heart throbbed, at his words, and she hated that he thought that way. In her eyes, it had always been the other way around - she looked homely, she knew. Long, plain brown hair that she refused to cut shorter than where it hit at her waist, wide brown eyes and cheeks she’d always seen as puffy. Her body was trim, she guessed, but the curves weren’t anything to write home about. Then there was her neatness obsession, and need to color coordinate or at least compliment anything, and all her pages of notes and sketchbooks, and, well. The youngest sister, separated from her siblings and raised by a completely different parental unit, she’d always felt like a mess.

She didn’t when he looked at her.

Tristan, with his hazel eyes and cut jaw and a smile that transformed his whole face. 

“Tris...” Clea curves out long legs, tugging at his belt loop with her toes. He comes to her willingly, and she puts her cup down next to her, smoothing hands with warm palms over his bare shoulders. “I can assure you that it’s the opposite, handsome. You’re brave, and funny, and very, very nice to look at. I’m happy you hit on me after class that day.”

#int. clea #int. clea and tristan #meme #KIDS!! #nate-hayes

[loloskids]

“i knew you would let me down.” ( clea + tristan ) whfjkdjfger

Clea had expected it, honestly. 

And it wasn’t in a bad way, she’d just been married to the man for a long time. She knew exactly which chores he didn’t like to do and often ‘forgot’ to, so when she woke up from her nap and headed to the kitchen, Clea knew exactly what to check for. Trash taken out, grocery list checked off...she was this close to being impressed before she heard the clatter of dog nails on the hardwood floors,  punctuated with a whuff of air against her calf. Looking down, there Yoda was, leash held gently in between his teeth with hopeful doggie eyes and a wagging tail. “I knew you would let me down,” she whispered to herself more than to wherever her husband is, the words dissolving into a little smile. Oh, well. Couldn’t hurt to get in some cardio anyway.

#int. clea #int. clea and tristan #this is sweet because CLEA NEVER THOUOGHT HE WOULD LET HER DOWN #nate-hayes #meme