#liz sutton | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cammie-morgan-goode · 8 months

Note

What's your favorite scene/scenes in each of the book?

Hi friend!

Here’s my favorite scene/scenes in each book! Spoilers!

LYKY: when Joe Solomon walks through the doors of the Grand Hall and sits down and says “sorry I’m late, Rachel.” When Joe Solomon is late to the first CoveOps class and tells the girls that he is preparing them for life outside in the field. “Get good, ladies. Or get dead.” Meeting Macey McHenry for the first time. “Tell Suzy she’s a lucky cat.” “For the first time in a long time, when thinking about my father, I felt like smiling, too.” Macey and the girls finally being friends. And anytime Joe Solomon talks about his bestie Matthew Morgan.

CMH: (this is gonna be long because this is my fave book) the girls trying to break into Rachel’s office. Finding out that Joe went to Blackthorne. The trip to DC. Flirting. Zach. Guggenheim Academy. “They say you’re a real pavement artist.” The ball scene. “Zach knew me.” The CoveOps final. “I always finish what I start.” Zach dipping Cammie in the middle of the foyer. The kiss. Just all things Zach!

DJGC: Macey’s cover! Cam seeing Zach everywhere. Meeting Aunt Abby for the first time. Preston. Abigail Cameron flirting with Joe Solomon. “You gonna let me up now?” Zach jumping out of the moving train. Abby talking about Matt. Zach calling Macey “McHenry” and her distracting the officer on the train. “I take it that’s the man in your life.” Macey disappearing. Liz sticking up for Macey. The girls finding Macey. Just the whole end of that book!

OGSY: Cammie and Zach talking about his jacket. Meeting Townsend even though we kind of hate him. Joe being protective of Cammie. Zach being protective of Cammie. Matt’s handwriting. The journal. Zach being Zach. The Blackthorne adventure. “We’re leaving her with you.” “You’ve got your cover, Gallagher Girl. We’ve got ours,” the catherine reveal. Finding out Zach was okay and that Joe was alive. “When he kissed me, it was hungrier somehow…”

OSOT: Rachel stepping off the chopper like a woman on a mission. Cammie talking to Joe while he’s in the coma. Abby talking to Joe and Rachel taking care of Joe. Cammie kissing Joe’s head and then falling asleep next to him. The towel scene. “We’re not mad because you left. We’re mad because you didn’t take us with you.” Matthew’s hiding spot. “You could have died, Cammie.” Zach and Townsend bonding. “Crazy. I went crazy.” More Cammie and Joe bonding. Joe talking about Matt. “I found it, daddy.” Ugh the feels.

UWS: All of it. Seriously. But! Them saving/kidnapping Preston. Rachel playing nurse to Joe. Zach sleeping in Cam’s bed. “You were gone for so long.” “I’m back now.” “Don’t go again.” Cammie showing Zach her favorite secret passageway that she’s never shown anyone else (the beanbag one). “Leaving can’t be nearly as hard as being left,” Professor Buckingham and the Code Black. The entirety of the cave scene. Grant and Jonas showing up to the rescue. Rachel and Joe running and the whole website thing. Zach frying bacon without a shirt on. In just jeans. Bex “being a spy is in my blood” Baxter. The Townsend reveal. “You had Joe.” The entirety of Cammie finding out about the proposal. “Joe Solomon loved me.” The entirety of Liz’s graduation speech. And the entirety of the epilogues.

“And now we are at the end of our time at school, and the one thing I know for certain is this: A Gallagher Girl is whatever she wants to be. And, most of all, she is my sister.”

12 notes · View notes

mus1cjunki3 · 8 months

Text

Book 6 cammie vs Book 1 cammie

#cammie morgan #gallagher girls #fandom #zach goode #bex baxter #liz sutton

12 notes · View notes

gildengirl · 3 months

Text

Macey: I have three things that people want. I'm hot and I'm smart.

Liz: That's two things.

Macey: No, it's three. I count hot twice. I mean, [gestures to herself] come on.

#Gallagher Girls #Gallagher Girls Series #Macey McHenry #Liz Sutton #incorrect quotes #source: That 70s Show

7 notes · View notes

superblycaffeinated · 8 months

Text

Year One: At Home In the Dark masterlist

warnings for series: mentions of alcohol/being drunk, mentions of violence/blood imagery (with warnings for specific chapters), mentions of anxiety and depression symptoms (with warnings for specific chapters), swearing - please do not read if you may find any of this triggering and take care of yourself.

“The proverbial saying ‘All’s fair in love and war’ expresses the idea that, like war, where any strategy is accepted, affairs of the heart are also no-holds-barred contests.”

Chapter One:

“Your mission, should you choose to accept is-“

Groans fill the room and Rebecca Baxter rolls her eyes at everyone. An amber bottle pressed to her lips as she nudges his shoulder. A silent, ‘Can you believe them? They’re absolutely no fun.’

Zachary Goode snickers into his own beer, a silent response of ‘No, you’re just overly dramatic as usual and Cam has probably had too many glasses of wine for this.’

“Alright, alright, fine.” Bex waves her hands and to look at him fully. “Truth or Dare? Clock’s ticking Goode.”

Maybe it’s the way he hasn’t felt this light in a long time - maybe ever, that they’re all together again for it too. Summer evening wind blows at his hair that’s gotten a little too long. From their spot on the porch, he can hear the hum of crickets and cicadas, smell the familiar scent of leaves that are ready to turn for Autumn in the air. He doesn’t even have shoes on, he can’t remember the last time he didn’t feel the need to be ready to go. Or it could be the way his heart does this funny thing of swelling and aching in the same beat when Cam blows hair off of her cheek, giggling like she’s eighteen again as Liz pours more wine.

Or maybe he’s just drunk.

“Truth.”

Yeah, definitely just drunk.

The entire circle falls silent, cups and bottles half suspended to parted lips, laughter trails off as eyes widen. Every single one of them can hear each other’s heartbeats, the distinct ping of water from the faucet hitting ceramic inside and down the hall, and the ticking of the clock just inside the dining room.

Cammie sits up straighter, wiping at her lips. “What?”

Bex sits back against the porch column hard. Liz props up on her knees - clearly criss cross applesauce is too child’s play for what’s at stake here. Macey narrows her eyes at him from her spot on the couch above the other two girls as she tosses back the rest of her wine. Even Preston and Jonas look at him with furrows forming above their brows.

Jesus, they’re all so dramatic.

He rolls his eyes and turns to Bex. “You gonna ask me the question or not?”

“But you, you never pick-“ she looks around the group and he marks the date in his calendar. Rebecca Baxter has been rendered speechless and actually physically appears frazzled as she drums her fingers on her knees and looks at the stars. “I mean, what do I ask? I never thought I’d actually get the chance.”

Cammie narrows her eyes and points at him, “Ask him where he hid the M&M’s because I know he did.”

Zach grins, blowing her a kiss that she rolls her eyes at but smiles into her wine glass because of nonetheless.

Bex waves off the suggestion, not serious enough of course. She snaps her fingers and Macey moves to the edge of the couch cushion. “Oh! Private jet and the Russians!”

Bex counters, “Finland, embassy with the Duchess?”

Cammie laughs, “Idaho, potato farmer?”

Jonas shakes his head. “Nah, don’t waste it on that one, I have pictures.”

Zach makes a mental note about finding and deleting those, beginning to hum the jeopardy theme song. He’s definitely drunk, because he should have been noticing the one girl who was far too silent. He should have known that when Elizabeth Sutton is quiet, that means she’s thinking big things.

“What about when he fell in love with Cammie?” The question is calculated, lazy almost in her tone, but it catches him off guard and Liz is far to perceptive to let it slip. His eyes widened, pupils dilating. His breath changed just so, stuck in his throat. His heart rate increased. Damn stupid beer he was never drinking ever again.

The two men opposite him groan at the suggestion and the four women turn on him. Hawk eyes, lioness’ stalking their prey. He was done for the minute the question was suggested. He has one of two options as he sees it now. Lie his ass off to the room of people who know all of his tells or plead with the love of his life.

Zach shakes his head, staring directly at Cammie. “Cammie, no, please don’t make me talk about this in front of everyone? You hate attention, it’s complicated and-“

She hums into her wine glass interrupting him, “I dunno, Zach, I think high school Cammie really needs some answers. You messed with her head quite a bit.”

Shit, bad move. Should have lied right away - ‘I loved Cammie the minute I laid eyes on her in that DC mall. Truly love at first sight, I just had to figure out who that Gallagher Girl really was’ is not gonna cut it now, they’re far too hungry for juicy gossip like they’re back in school.

“We’re married!” He holds up his left hand to prove the point, grasping at anything to make this all go away. Zach gestures out the entrance of the porch, “Our children are asleep down the hall!”

Cam only levels him with a look he’s grown to know very well. It’s the look she gives the kids when they lie and say they brushed their teeth before bed. He’s busted.

Liz stands, the girl closing in on him until his back hits the porch railing. She nudges his chest as she speaks so threateningly for someone with ducks all over their pajama’s. “Spill, or I get the truth serum.”

“You know, I forget that you’re the scariest one of the bunch sometimes Lizzie,” he gulps as Jonas cackles from his spot on the ground.

The four girls simply raise their eyebrows, and he admits defeat. His hands lift to the air beside his head. “Okay, okay, but I need another beer for this.”

Giddy with their victory, everyone settles into comfortable positions, eager to not let him get away with anything but a good and long story.

Zach avoids the creak of the floorboard as he heads into the kitchen, listening intently for the sounds of his children stirring at all. His hip hits the fridge closed in just the right spot, pulling the opener from it’s drawer.

He looks at the fridge as he leans against the counter, a picture of him and Cam in front of Gallagher on the day of Rachel and Joe’s wedding held up by a hand painted magnet. Red splotchy paint covering the words ‘World’s Best Dad’ glazed and shiny from a kiln. It’s not that he doesn’t know when he fell in love with her, he does, it’s just not so simple.

The bottle cap pops off with a hiss, then a click of it hitting the counter. He watches the green metal spin, slowing as it gets closer to meeting the flat surface of the countertop.

“Goode!”

Zach snatches the copper coin he’d been spinning against the tabletop before it flattens and stands, hands held into fists behind his back at attention.

An armed guard with flushed cheeks and a forehead dappled with sweat marches towards him.

Oh swell, it’s Jeff.

At Blackthorne, any guard calling your name in that tone isn’t gonna be great, but Jeff has this way of spitting when he talks, of not realizing what the words personal space mean, and probably has never ever heard of breath mints and their miraculous powers to ward off coffee breath.

Zach’s fingers fiddle with the coin behind his back. He’s getting better about the whole restless energy and showing it thing, but he figures it’s not dire circumstances to be on his game right now. His mind wanders through the possibilities of what today could be about. One of his bedsheet corners wasn’t tight enough, someone found the little yellow package of chocolaty goodness in his sock, or perhaps Jeff didn’t get his coffee and donut this morning and he just feels like picking on someone.

The cafeteria grows more silent as everyone decides that the show that’s about to go down has got to be better than eating the mystery meat on their trays.

“Sir?” Zach questions, staring at the spot just above Jeff’s left ear. A thing Jeff positively hates, causing him to continuously look over his shoulder and wonder what the hell Zach is staring at - but a thing that fills Zach with a small amount of joy.

It’s the little things.

Jeff does just this, head whipping around so fast he’s surprised the man doesn’t give himself whiplash. Jeff’s gaze darts across the wall and back to Zach. Beady, narrowed eyes meet his, Zach’s lips twitch slightly, revealing too much - another thing he’s still working on. But Jeff is fairly harmless and hasn’t quite mastered the art of interpreting Zach’s smaller tells.

“Visitors,” Jeff snarls and Zach’s shoulders fall.

Fuck.

The room grows even more silent, the quiet din of metal silverware hitting their trays and cups hitting wood vanish completely now as the unmistakable red head of hair floats through the cafeteria towards him. Shoulders straighten, voices cease, and breaths are held with each click then clack of black pumps against the concrete floors.

His mother is here, and she’s brought friends.

“Hello darling, miss me?”

Catherine Goode commands attention, she just does. A room full of hormone crazed teenage boys was already going to be acutely aware of a woman wearing a black dress accentuating her curves walking amongst them, they were already going to stare, Zach knows this. But Catherine has something else, the strong voice of a soldier mixed with a soft femininity enveloping each word she speaks, making you think each word is somehow meant only for you. A perfect way to get what she wants that he’s seen in action enough times to know she’s mastered skillfully. Her loss ratio is zero, she has the control every time.

For everyone except her son.

“Can’t say that I have, Cat.” Zach presses the coin between his thumb and forefinger, the indent of Abraham Lincoln surely going to be preserved in his fingerprint forever. He knows it’s a shot in the dark. Sometimes she’s pleasantly surprised by his resistance, dare he say almost impressed. But most times, it ends poorly for him.

Catherine Goode’s eyes - his eyes - narrow, her playfulness disappearing with an art that Houdini would envy. “That’s no way to talk to your mother, Zachary. Let’s go. I have people I need to introduce you to and we have something important to discuss.”

She gestures to the men behind her as she speaks, before stepping closer. Her head dips - like a snake ready to attack. He visualizes it perfectly before it happens, a hand wraps around his bicep, squeezing. Not in a loving, motherly way, but in a warning - strike one. Her voice lowers as she hisses, “Behave,” while fingernails dig into his skin leaving small crescent moons. The snake is playing with it’s food before it tightens it’s coil and removes his oxygen.

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinds his teeth, jaw clenching as the toes of his boots tap together when he straightens to formal attention again.

She smiles, satisfied with his submission and pats his cheek a little too harshly before turning on her heels and clicking away. Her fingers curl behind her head as she walks. “Gentleman.” Then they waggle out to the faces of the cafeteria in a wave, “Boys.”

He hates that he ducks his head, that he follows her blindly. His gut twists as he counts the cracks in the concrete he already knows the number of, knowing that if he were to lift his head, his classmates - if you can even call them that - would be looking at him with eyes full of pity. Sometimes he envies the ones who have nothing, it has to be better than her. But then, it’s like she knows he’ll have a thought like this. She’ll do something almost nice, she’ll make him feel guilty. How dare he wish he didn’t have her, there were good times once upon a time right?

He shakes his head, no, this is what she wants. He simply follows, choosing to hold his chin up in defiance of any pity that he can feel hitting the back of his uniform as he walks out of the cafeteria.

The men she’s brought follow closely behind her. Suits. Not terribly expensive, they’re not big deals. One is slightly taller, a thick brown mustache. This man watches his mother with sharp blue eyes, he’s not fully under her spell it would seem. As Catherine smiles and gestures into a door, the man nods and enters. The slightly younger and shorter one gestures for Zach to enter first. He’s blonde, strong shoulders, with brown eyes that look at Zach in a way that makes him feel like he’s under a microscope. This man closes the door and stands in front of it and Zach would bet his next few meals that he was Secret Service.

Mustache man sits with a groan loudly in a chair as his mother leans up against a low bookshelf. A fairly empty classroom that wasn’t used much these days. While the weather was nice, it was strictly outside for use of the range, running drills, and perimeter and mountain trail runs. Classroom time was for the bitterly cold days that even the teachers and guards knew wasn’t worth making the boys get frostbite over. Catherine fiddles with a cup of pencils, a finger swiping over the top of the shelf and leaving a streak of clean wood in its wake as her mouth pinches in disgust.

Lovely place you send me to school, huh, mom?

“Well, Zach,” mustache man’s voice is gravely, it leads Zach to believe the man used to smoke. The fact mingles with the face in his brain, a connection trying to surface to the forefront of it. Mustache man continues while holding his hand up at a height not too tall, “You’ve grown! You weren’t more than ye high last time I saw you I think.”

Zach’s always hated this greeting. What was a person supposed to say back to that? Thank you? That’s how time and puberty works? That’s what happens when you get three meals a day and stop wondering when the next one will be?

He mashes his lips together in a thin smile with a nod. He’s pretty sure that was a better move than opening it and saying any of that.

The man looks to Secret Service man and then his mother before giving another nod. “Right, well, you must be wondering what we’re here for.”

No, I love being humiliated by my mother in front of groups of people and then following her and two strangers into a dusty classroom to sit in silence, dude. I live for it, it’s my shit.

Again, not saying that, so he remains silent. Mustache man claps his hands together, looking to his mother for further instruction so it would seem. She smiles at Zach, her salesman one - the one he knows she pulls out when she really wants her way.

“Darling, these men, they have a proposition for you. A mission.”

He stands up a little straighter, unable to help himself at the word mission. A real mission? Involving his mother? The men furrow their brows slightly as Catherine continues and his apprehension and curiosity fight bay-blades style in his head - whirling around and knocking edges, unsure of who’s going to pull out in the lead just yet.

“They need some information. Some information that they think only you may be able to get for them.”

Zach waits, knowing his mother is just getting started. She’s setting a trap, complimenting him, loosening some stones in his closed off exterior, weakening it until it’s ready for a final strike. He rolls the grooved edge of the coin between his thumb and forefinger.

Catherine walks along the wall, her hands clasped behind her back. Her heels click against the tile, gaze lost on the tattered map hung on the wall. She leans in, feigning inspection as she speaks again. Her tone somehow lazy but dripping with an authoritative quality that when combined, made you lean in and feel the need to listen carefully. “As you’ve most likely come to know in your training, it’s important, in some missions, to get close to a subject. To have a relationship with them, to make them an asset.”

The mustached man cut in, “An asset is-“

“A person within organizations who provide information to outside sources. Yeah, I know.”

“Zachary.”

Warning number two, he won’t be given a third.

Silence fills the room again at her sharp use of his name. Zach’s head bows and the other two men focus on her - it’s her happy place, he knows this. She controls the room, two grown men with their entire attention fully on her and her son’s submission, she’d bask in it like it was the sun on the beach for hours if she had the time.

Zach begins to flip the coin, impatient for the details of how this all affects him, what exactly it is he’s being asked here. He watches the coin arc in the air and land in his hand several times, waiting for her big finish.

Her slender and skilled fingers intercept the coin on his next toss. Her green eyes hold his and this time, even he can’t deny them as she delivers his very first official mission.

“We need you to get some information from Joe.”

#gallagher girls #gallagher girls series #zachary goode #catherine goode #zammie #bex baxter #cameron morgan #liz sutton #jonas anderson #preston winters #macey mchenry

7 notes · View notes

doodle-do-wop · 10 months

Text

A little Baxton for the soul

inspired by this gem by @its-oodles-of-doodles the one who carried the fanart torch for this fandom

#i will defend Baxton till i perish #baxton #BEX X LIZ #bex baxter #liz sutton #Gallagher Girls #gallagher girls fan art #happy pride ya leaping lizards

30 notes · View notes

incorrectgallaghergirlsquotes · 3 months

Note

for the spotify wrapped thing: 21

also i wanted to say ive been following your series for 2 years now and i love your writing

You are so kind for saying that, thank you so much! I promise there will be updates soon. I'm working on making them perfect for you!

Song 21: Is It Over Now? by Taylor Swift (Two people requested this. There will be another one for this lol)

MACEY MCHENRY'S PRIVATE JET DEPARTS LONDON IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

It was hard to say what was worse. Leaving your boyfriend in the dead of night or arriving back at your place to see the roses he'd gotten you still in their vase on your bedside table.

Macey decided it was the roses and threw her bag at them. The vase toppled to the floor taking the wilted petals of last weeks flowers down with it. A lot could happen in a week, Macey realized as she stared at the mix of roses and broken glass that now littered the floor.

She ignored the mess she'd made and simply crawled into bed, still in her clothes, and slept alone.

INSIDE LOOK AT MACEY MCHENRY'S INTIMATE COFFEE DATE AMID PRESTON WINTERS SPLIT

Honestly, Macey didn't know why she bothered with the sun hats and glasses when she went out. As if those were enough to make her not Macey McHenry. The sunglasses did at least help with all the camera flashes being sent her way. She pulled the visor in the car down immediately for added protection once she got in the car.

"Worth it?" Cammie asked from the drivers seat. She looked similar to Macey with the hat and glasses combo. Her visor was also already down.

"A girls gotta live her life," Macey said as they peeled away from the people and the cameras. "I haven't been able to get a coffee in peace since 2012."

"Cut to 300 takeout coffees later," Cammie teased, eyeing the cup in her friends hand.

Macey shrugged again. "This is my life. Think of it like a training exercise. You wanna see me? Get coffee with me?" she tapped the tinted glass of the window that separated them from the paparazzi. "They come too. I don't like it, but it is what it is."

Cammie shook her head, but a smile was still on her face. "I don't envy you," she glanced over at Macey before looking back at the road. "Have you talked to him?"

Macey scoffed. "No. Why should I?"

"I didn't say you should." Cammie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as the idled at a red light. "But, you know, you did tell me last week you saw his face on our waiter when we had girls night."

"Yeah, after I had two margaritas the size of my head," Macey defended. "How is it my fault all men look the same?"

"He was a ginger."

"And Preston's hair is a light brown with reddish undertones."

Cammie raised her eyebrows and looked off to the side. Neither of them said anything for a moment. The next thing to break through the silence was both of their phones buzzing. Macey pulled hers out, letting Cammie drive. Sure enough, it was the group chat they were both in. Liz had sent a link to an article with a headline prominently displayed in the preview.

DETAILS EMERGE OF MACEY MCHENRY AND PRESTON WINTER'S SNOWY VACATION TURNED DARK JUST WEEKS BEFORE SPLIT

Macey groaned. "Seriously? Even in the title they acknowledge that was weeks ago. How is this news?"

Cammie shrugged one shoulder. "It'll get clicks. People are nosy." Macey grumbled to herself in response. "What," Cammie started hesitantly. "What happened out there? You never told us."

"Nothing," Macey said, arms crossed in her seat. "He had an accident while we were skiing. He stopped himself too soon and the momentum made him lurch and he got hurt," there was no masking the concern that bled into Macey's voice as she recounted the incident. "You know, red blood on white snow is kind of jarring. He was fine though. He only needed a few stitches."

There was a beat. Then, Cammie said, quietly, "That sounds scary."

Macey slunk down in her seat. "Yeah."

PRESTON WINTERS NEW GIRL? STORY BEHIND THE PICTURES OF THEIR LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS

Bex: I'll kill him

Bex: Also since when is he into blondes?

Cammie: Well she's got the blue eyes

Bex: I'LL KILL HIM

Liz: Already scrubbing evidence of these texts existing in case it's necessary

Macey's phone kept buzzing, but she kept ignoring it in favor of staring at the man in front of her. Her friends were halfway around the world in another time zone. They had no idea what she was doing and had no means of stopping her. And it was better that way.

Preston was sitting in the lounge chair, his chin resting in his hand as he glared at the tabloid Macey had just deposited on the coffee table. She stood across from him waiting, daring him to respond.

"Macey-," he said at last.

"Did you think I didn't see you?" She cut him off. He turned his mouth back into his hand. Clearly he hadn't known where to take the conversation. Meanwhile, she had some ideas. "Did you really think I wouldn't? Even without all the flashing lights have you forgotten who I am? Have you forgotten who my friends are?"

"I didn't think you cared," he said, turning to face her. He dropped his hand, folding them both in his lap. "You left, remember? Called me a 'lying traitor', wasn't that right?"

"Seems like it stuck with you so I guess so," she said. "If the shoe fits."

"We were broken up," Preston defended. "It was over."

"Was it?" Macey asked, incredulously. "Was it over when you laid her out on your couch?" she gestured to the furniture piece in question, in the very room they were in. Preston didn't ask who, he didn't need to. Which was perhaps the most incriminating piece of it. "Was it over when I let him take me home? Unbutton my blouse? Take me to his room?"

Preston stood up then, turning away from her.

"Because if it was over, you don't get to be upset!" She said, voice raising. But Preston didn't walk away, just stopped with his back to her. She watched him exhale, the air and tension leaving his body.

"So you admit," he started. His tone was measured, trying to reign himself in no doubt. "You did it, too. You've seen other people."

Macey probably would have rolled her eyes, maybe he thought she did. But she took advantage of him not looking at her and bit her tongue instead, trying to hold back her frustration instead of hiding it. "Of course. The difference is," she continued, venom seeping into her words, "At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight!"

Preston scoffed and turned back. "Yeah, right. You've been out for coffee not half a million times."

"Coffee," Macey emphasized. "I kept my nights to myself. Sure, I can't stop rumors about them, but all the whispers and speculation about my hips and sighs was just that. They weren't pictures," she grabbed the tabloid off the table and shoved it in his face. "On the front page of every paper!"

"I don't need to see pictures of you with some guy to feel hurt!" Preston yelled, knocking the paper out of her hand. The pages fluttered around the room, ending up scattered all over the floor.

"Oh, really?"

"I don't give a shit about some guys you see! That wasn't nearly as bad as the pictures and headlines of you leaving me!" He stared into her eyes, and she could see him willing himself to calm down. Or maybe his next thought took the steam out of him. "Do you know how many times I saw the picture of you in that blue dress, all alone, on that boat?"

"I'm sure," Macey said, because she was. It seemed the paparazzi had gotten one singular photo of her that day and it was everywhere. That one photo was dissected across every social media platform, every comments section, every headline.

MACEY MCHENRY SEEN LEAVING ISLAND VACATION WITH PRESTON WINTERS ALONE MERE HOURS AFTER ARRIVING

"Whose fault was that, though?" she questioned. Preston's shoulders sagged under the weight of her statement, but Macey didn't feel any sense of victory as she crossed her arms at him. "Has your new girl realized yet that she's a clone of me?"

Where someone else would defend themselves and their partner and throw out statements like, 'no she doesn't' or 'that was unintentional', Preston said nothing. Macey felt her anger flare up again. "Because it doesn't actually matter, really. The vast majority of her looks. At this point it's safe to surmise that if she'd got blue eyes, you'll date her. And, you know what, really Preston, how is that going? You've searched every models bed at this point. Did you find something greater?"

"No."

"Something better than me?"

"No!" Preston closed the minimal space that was left between them, putting them practically nose to nose. His hands were gripping her arms, tightly at first and then quickly relaxed their hold. He was staring into her eyes and Macey made the grave mistake of glancing down at his lips. One of his hands traveled up to cup her face and bring it even closer to his. He ran his thumb across her cheek to the corner of her mouth. He brushed it over her bottom lip, drawing it into somewhat of a pout.

"I keep dreaming about you," he whispered. "It's not that I keep seeing you, but I know it's you. It's your voice and your lips whispering for me to 'come here'. To come to you. And I want to. Before you called me a lying traitor. And now, after."

Macey inhaled. She saw two options in front of herself. One was give in to the magnetic pull she felt every time they were together and continue this back and forth, song and dance they did. The other was admit something herself. She wasn't sure which one would do the most damage to her.

"Twenty stitches," she said, pulling back and looking in his eyes. "That's how many stitches you got after the accident. And I was with you the whole time. You had my undivided attention." Preston was looking at her longingly, imploringly, as she spoke. "And I keep thinking about jumping. Off of very tall... somethings," she watched his eyes search hers. "Just to see you come running. To see if you would."

"I would," he said. "I'd run to you, of course I would."

"But you don't!" Macey yelled, breaking away from his hold. "I keep hoping you'd be there! And you'd say everything I want you to, but you don't!"

"You don't give me a chance!"

"We've broken up countless times! Each of those was a chance! You don't take it! I do! I always come back!"

"Well, why don't you stop leaving!"

"Why don't you make me wanna stay?" Macey's question came out at the same volume they had been arguing at. But the silence that followed made it ring as if it had been much louder. The silence itself was loud.

This was the part where they were supposed to just fall into one another, fall into Preston's bed, and give it another try for another few weeks. But he couldn't come up with anything to say in response to her. And he really looked like he wanted to say something. Macey wanted him to say anything.

But the silence stretched on.

"Was it over?" Macey asked, referencing the earlier part of their argument.

He looked at her. "Is it over now?"

#gallagher girls #gallagher girls series #gg fanfic #gg spotify wrapped #macey mchenry #preston winters #cammie morgan #bex baxter #liz sutton

7 notes · View notes