"Yeah, Can You Imagine Adding Alcohol To The Smack-talking That's Already Going Down?" Even Sitting Reading

The cutest™

Leyla knew she wasn't the only one who ever had bad life circumstances or a far from dream relationship with parents or family, so it was sort of an innate learning one had to do: find the good. It just wasn't always so innate. "Exactly, like riding a bike, I guess," she mused. As she suspected, he could go when he wanted. "Do you think you'd ever go back and live there or are you here to stay?" It was a question she asked herself a lot, especially with the idea of being known in such a small town. It made her want to run. "That's the dream, though, to have something that large that you can call your own. I used to watch Shark Tank all the time when I was younger, just wishing I could be in one of those seats someday."

Rafael's smile was lopsided, but sincere. He knew what she was talking about; if you could take one good thing out of a bad situation, it hadn't been for nothing. And sometimes even those bad situations had their reasoning for happening, whether or not you realized it at the time. But that was neither here nor there, and his thoughts shifted seamlessly to the idea of languages, nodding his head, "I can understand that, sort of all comes back to you." Listening to his mother talk to herself in Italian, or his father speaking Spanish on the phone, sometimes shifted things in his brain, as well. "Sometimes," he nodded. "But I'm lucky enough that I can take the trip when I like to, and there is the beach here, even if it's not quite the same," he grinned, at that thought. Different worlds, really. "By now, I'm used to it. But about the time that I got into real estate and realized that I had really, actually created something quite… large, it absolutely felt surreal."

"Fair," she admitted, though she couldn't imagine being terrified of these gorgeous creatures herself, everyone had something. "I may judge the people who don't have taste a little bit," she joked with a laugh. Horses had been so much apart of her healing journey that her original love for them had only deepened in that experience. "A little, not as much as I would like, but I've been volunteering at Harmony Healers so I've at least been near them. When I saw they were doing the rides here, I had to selfishly get over here to enjoy some riding time. I'm not at all surprised Livvy has been inspiring you. I've never met someone so passionate about them. Do you two ride together a lot?"

"Well, I think some people are scared of horses." She stroked down the face of the horse she'd chosen. "And some people just...don't have taste." Elise had written competitively for a long while as a teen, but she was glad to be reconnecting with this side of herself. "Have you been riding at all recently? Livvy has inspired me in these past few months."

alyssasutterstylist “@boosheri ➰ chic in @theory__”

Leyla got a bit of a rush anytime anyone recognized her place because it was her pride and joy. The cumulation of years of work and battles. It made the journey worth it all to finally have the one thing that could belong to her. "Thank you for saying that!" She replied, her countenance brightening all the more. "It's sort of my passion, having a comfortable place for anyone and everyone to come and be welcome. Not that the other bars aren't welcoming, I'm sure they are, but sometimes you just want or need something different." But she was blabbering on, so she just smiled and nodded, "it's an open offer anytime."

Sounded like she was talking to the right person then, Leyla thought she seemed like she really knew what she was doing around here. "I've actually been involved in a program kind of like this before," she said, though leaving out that she was in it not volunteering, "I think they're great programs. Animals are true healers, in my opinion. How did you get involved?"

Livvy's eyes brightened a little bit at the mention of Mawk Tales; even though the establishment was newer to town, she had fallen in love with heading there after work for a few drinks and social time with co-workers, not having to worry about heading home drunk afterwards. "I love it there! It's such a great idea, especially in a town full of bars," she laughed. "I'll absolutely run that by the founder, see if we can get something figured out."

When she was asked how long she had been working on the program, she let out a thoughtful 'hmm,' before answering. "I've been working with the program since June of last year, then in January started training and taking some courses to get more involved. The founder's looking to retire in the next year or so, I'm hoping I can step up and take over for her."

Love you, definitely love you. As long as we're allowed to eat some of it. But I completely agree with you, I feel like all I want when the weather gets cold is soup. Have you ever made Adasi? It's a Persian lentil soup, and it's delicious. I have a recipe for it if you want to give it a try.

The temperatures are dropping which means it is officially soup season at my place, which means I'm in the mode to make a ton of soups. So far I've already made Italian penicillin, chicken gnocchi, and now I've got bacon cheeseburger potato soup in the making. Nothing better than when the temperatures drop than having something comforting like soup. Pretty sure my roommates are either going to love me or hate me with the fridge full of it. Either way, give me more ideas, what's your must have soups during fall and winter? @merrock

Giving him a little nod that he had it right, Leyla offered a little smile with the finished result. It was already making their home feel cozier, which wasn't something she was used to...but she was getting there. She'd never experienced home in this way before, and it was foreign but warm. The ice around her seemed to melt in this space, as strange as that sounded. Placing the sheet of seeds into the oven as instructed, she listened as he talked a bit about his childhood. It sounded a bit like a movie or 60's TV show. She could just imagine a tinier Dare running around with his siblings and a warm-hearted mother figure gathering them up for holiday festivities. "It felt very much like you," she mused, "what are some other traditions from your mom?"

Seeing her gesture, Darrius stepped the tiniest bit to the side, glancing back up to see if he had it right, and then carefully securied it where it needed to be, stepping back to admire his handy work. Sure, it was a simple garland. Yes, it was probably laughable to most people who went all out for Halloween. But to Darrius, who liked the pumpkins and leaves and corn stalks and watching Casper and Hocus Pocus and The Great Pumpkin… it made him feel good. Turning back to the kitchen, he looked at the seeds that she spread out, and nodded his head, "looks great! I already set the oven, so we should just be able to pop 'em in and let them do their thing," and then they would have a tasty snack when their other housemates arrived home. "I do! My mom taught me how, she'd always make me and my siblings save our pumpkin guts just so we could make these."

FIONA PALOMO as SOFIA outer banks season 3

She knew he never meant to, and that just made it worse. He loved love, which had once been something she herself had loved about him. When you were his moment, it was the most intoxicating thing in the world because you were everything. But that's the thing about moments, there's always another right after it. They're fleeting. She'd never been more loved than that time Vitus had loved her, but she had also never had the kind of pain the end brought. She had tried to hurt him back, make him feel what she was feeling, but by the look on his face, he was still the same. It hadn't deterred him from doing it again and again, still chasing love like another high. In actuality, that's all it was by Leyla's estimation.

"Don't." She replied, a mix of malice and flicker of that old brokenness, "you don't get to talk about what I deserve." Because no matter how much she had wanted him to know that she made it, she didn't want to need anything from him. Not now. Everyone in town saw the end result, the polished version she spent decades perfecting. He knew, though, knew what she didn't want anyone to know: it had been a messy, twisted journey, and there had almost been no Leyla Tehrani left to open Mawk Tales at all.

They were both really fucked up, back then and probably still now. She still said mean things like she knew how to hurt him, as if his life had been happy and hers alone had not, but they both knew that wasn't true. He'd had plenty ripped away from him in the blink of an eye. It just still didn't give him the right to be reckless with others. His silence said he knew that.

"I know I am," she replied, once again wishing he wasn't being kind about it. "Then what would it have taken? I spent so much time playing it all back in my head, and--I know I wasn't perfect. I was a lot of work, but I loved you as best I knew how--I couldn't love myself, but you--you were easy to love. If love is really some beautiful and powerful thing, why wasn't that enough to stop you? Did you just want more?" For all the therapy she'd received, this is the one wound she wouldn't let anyone in to see, so it was the one that could re-open so easily. She wanted to pull him close and drown him in the nearby ocean all at the same time, with the same fire. He didn't have any right to ask, and after what he'd done, part of her still wanted the same punishment for him: to never know the answer to those questions. "--Eating? Yes," she relented, "okay might be a totally different question altogether. It doesn't go away, but I've been seeing Dr. Lane at the community center. Keeps me on top of things. But what's still broken in me, Vitus, you cannot fix." She took a breath, lip wobbling in a way that made her curse herself. He could still get right through, and it just made her want to push harder to close right back up. No one was allowed this close, not anymore. He looked better, still sad behind the eyes, but physically, he seemed okay. She wasn't ready to ask yet about him. "I know I said I wanted you to always be miserable, but it doesn't actually make me feel better to see you like this. Love's not real, stop chasing it."

Another agonized wince, as Leyla sliced deeper. But she said it without anger this time. Just laid the truth at his feet, left it there for him to take back, because it wasn't hers anymore and never would be again. And she was right; he'd done his damage. He'd done it over and over, winding lovers and friends around his hands and then spinning them loose repeatedly. Never with the intent to harm, but what difference did it make when harm was all he seemed to be capable of sometimes? Too choked to answer her question directly, Vitus let the remorse in his expression be his response.

And as she spoke of her business, the quaint atmosphere she'd cultivated for herself, Vitus's empathy leaked into his eyes. He tried to rein it in without much success. "That's fantastic, Leyla. Nobody deserves it more than you," he said, and he meant it. Because he remembered how hard she worked for it. How her constant battle for control had left her bone-brittle and frail, on the brink of fracture between his arms.

He did know what it was like, to go to bed happy and have his life turned upside down in the matter of a single day. He'd fallen asleep that fateful November in 2005 as a son, a love-drunk kid, a boyfriend. By the end of the next night, he'd been reduced to a barren street corner and a duffle bag that smelled like a home he no longer had. But he'd never told her that. Vitus had told her about his parents and his homelessness, of course; hers had been the arms he'd retreated to when he finally got that phone call from his mother, saying she wanted to reconnect. But Leyla had only poked around the edges of his wounds, never seen what they looked like when they were bloody and raw. He almost never shared his hurt with anyone back then. And he wouldn't share it with her now. Couldn't, not when he'd already forced her to hold far too much of it when he abruptly exited her life.

"I know. And you're right to. Hate me, I mean." It stung to admit that, especially as he continued picking through the rubble of their short-lived time together. "But it wasn't... Leyla," he sighed, as if exhaling her name could help alleviate some of the weight that had settled over his torso, threatening to cave his ribs in. "It wasn't because you weren't enough. It was never that. It was about me. It's always me." She hadn't believed him back then, and he had no idea if she would believe him now. The animal caged in his chest howled, screamed, wailed for something just out of reach. Vitus wanted to let it out, wanted to show it to her. As it was, he just sighed again and raked his hands through his hair. The ocean breeze almost swallowed his voice as he added, "I know I don't have any right to ask, but are you okay? I mean, have you been... how are you doing, these days?"