❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 , 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 fussing with the barrette clipped at her temple before swiping her thumb beneath her lower lip ; checking for smudged lipstick , a stray crumb from a muffin she barely remembered eating . then it hit her — what the hell am i doing ? she thought while straightening the hem of her sweater . she sat just a little taller , in an attempt that it would make her look more put together . more unaffected .
of course she knew cooper was back . everyone did . he wasn't as mysterious as he liked to think he was . red creek didn't get many six foot four , gravel voiced , british pieces of shit swaggering through town . . . especially not cooper fucking riley . she hates the effect he has on her , even after all these years . mary's hands curl into fists in her lap . her manicured nails press crescents into her palms as she reminds her self — he does not get to do this to you anymore . but it's hard to hold onto that anger , that resentment , when she looks at him .
she'd imagined this moment before , picturing through all the ways she might see him again . maybe older , maybe softer , maybe carrying a little more regret in the set of his mouth . but she never imagined this . the weight in his eyes , the scars that weren't there before , the way his face is both achingly familiar and completely foreign . it made mary's heart clench . her fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and trace the lines of whatever past he's carried with him . she wants to ask , demand to know where he's been , what's happened to him — why he never wrote to her .
mary waited , like some loyal desperate thing sitting by the mailbox waiting for any sign that he was okay . she wanted to know if cooper still thought about her , even if it was just a few scribbled words on a torn out piece of notebook paper . but he never sent anything . and then — little dove .
something inside mary shattered , splinters straight through her ribcage . the words settle over her like dust disturbed from an old , forgotten place in her chest . that special part of her that once belonged to him . if this was one of her books , this would be the moment where she'd break . melt into his embrace and say something cutting but laced with longing . instead of falling right back into him mary slaps him . it's a quick and sharp . the crack of her palm against his face louder than she expected . the diner goes silent for a moment , eyes darting towards them . mary doesn't care and she doesn't apologize either .
" don't you —— " her voice catches , it's about to break but she swallows it down . mary will not cry , not in front of him . easier said than done . " you don't get to call me that , " mary chided a tear falling down her cheek . her hand clenches , nails biting into her palm once more . she forces her breathing to steady but it doesn't sound any less wrecked . " say whatever you came to say , bea — " mary winced , " — cooper . " she corrected , her voice sharper than before . " and then leave . "
✱ 𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙿𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙻𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 himself , telling himself he’d made peace with it — leaving red creek , leaving her. that it had been the only choice , the right one. but now , sat inches away from mary kwon after all this time , he felt like he’d been kicked in the ribs. she was the only soft thing he’d ever let himself have , and he ruined it. ruined her. he told himself it was better that way , but christ , he must’ve been a right idiot if he ever believed that.
he wonders if she knows. if she knows about the picture he kept stuffed in his hat when he was off in some shithole overseas , the edges curled from how many times he’d traced his fingers over her face. if she knows about the letters — dozens of them , his messy scrawl pressed into whatever scraps of paper he could nick. words he never had the bottle to send.
mary , they always started. i don't know why i’m writing this.
some nights , he’d sit on his bunk , reading them over under the weak glow of a barracks lamp , pretending that maybe — just maybe — she’d still be waiting. that if he could just find the right words , the right way to say i never stopped loving you , then maybe he could fix it. but the letters always ended up in the same place — tucked away , crumpled up , gathering dust.
he thought about coming back. god , he thought about it. when he was halfway across the world , when he was soaked to the bone in the middle of nowhere , when the nights stretched on too long and all he could hear was the echo of her voice in his head. but how do you come back from something like this ? how do you look the girl you promised the moon to in the eye and tell her you never meant to break her heart ?
now , standing beside her , her name still thick on his tongue , cooper felt small. felt like that same reckless kid who never knew how to hold onto a good thing. and yet , after all these years , after all the miles and the regrets — he still wanted to try. finally , he sits , the stool creaking under his weight. “ little dove. ” it’s not a greeting , not a question — just her nickname , like maybe if he says it enough times , it’ll undo all the years between them.
❛ ⅋ 𝐢. 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 ━ setting description : dolly's diner !
❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 . mary had spent most of her life waiting for the town to settle , for things to even out , and for the past to stay buried . but after kirby , it was clear — this town never let anything stay dead . mary sat at the counter of dolly's , stirring the spoon in her coffee long after the sugar had dissolved . the place was busy for a weekday , whispers of kirby's demise bleeding into every conversation around her . it was all the same — speculation , paranoia , bad theories . mary had heard it all before .
the door opened and a gust of winter air rushed in . mary barely glanced up , her fingers tightening around her mug as she listened to the footsteps approaching . " let me guess , " she started dryly , setting the spoon down with a soft clink . " you're about to tell me how it's just like '99 all over again . " finally , she lifted her gaze , arching her brow at the person beside her . " go on then , might as well get it over with . "
✦ 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆𝗄𝗐𝗈𝗇 ( she/hers ) . fortythree . the cynical romantic . romance novel author . red creek native . ↳ 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 + 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 + 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 + 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌
❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝗰𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 mary's grip on the wheel was firm , her gaze rarely straying . but then she heard it . . . a small , uncertain voice cutting through her window . a plea for help . mary eased the car into park , stepping out with precision . her heels clicked against the frozen gravel , each step measured as she pulled her coat tighter against the bitter cold . she approached the stalled yellow beetle , taking in the scene with a practiced sort of detachment . a quiet sigh left her lips as she looked down the road behind them ; empty and barren , stretching into nothing . turning back to savannah , her voice was cool but even .
" let me guess — you hit the pothole ? " mary shook her head , " it's been there since i was your age , you're not the first and you won't be the last . " gaze flickered toward the flat tire , unimpressed but not surprised . of course it had to be tonight . with everything going on , the last thing anyone needed was to be stranded alone on the side of the road. mary pulled out her phone , glancing at the screen before looking back at savannah . " i can call someone , but if you're hoping i’ll be the one crawling under that thing , you’re out of luck . " then mary adds dryly , " i don’t do roadside rescues . "
location: side street near downtown
time: early evening, shortly before sunset
status: open ! (0/4 replies)
savannah had spent her evening at redcreek's local trailer park, catching up with her aunt gina and having dinner with her and some of her old neighbors. she didn't like to admit that that some time had gone by since she properly caught up with all of them. though it was only for a few hours, it was a great distraction to forget about all of the uncertainty that had come from the most recent killing. for just a few hours everything seemed almost normal again.
on her way back to her apartment, she had been looking forward to settling in for the night with her latest craft project and cuddles with her four legged roommate. only a few minutes away, she attempts to avoid the giant pothole that she knew was down this road. off by a few seconds, she hears the thud that is expected but what follows next is the sound of her tire going crazy. driving a twenty something year old yellow beetle was always a terrible idea once the seasons changed and the chuck holes increased.
managing to pull over on a side street, she gets out of her bug to inspect the damage. as expected, one of her front tires is as flat as a pancake. thank you michigan and your shitty winters and roads.
"please tell me you know how to put on a spare tire?" the girl questioned as a car approaches, rolling down their window.
𝒲𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗌 ⠀ ࣪ 🦢 ﹚
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