"Right. So you do remember?" She said with a warm smile. Good for him. As someone in the customer service business, she always found that to be a highly valuable trait. "I heard about that," she admitted, "I'm considering it actually. I've always wanted one, but I do share custody of my roommates' dogs and I work so much...I'm never sure if I'll have the time." She was really saying too much to the guy just trying to make her coffee. "I think there was worse things to be than a crazy cat lady," she replied with a small laugh, "oh, you definitely shouldn't have! So is the dog Blake Lively or Hugh Jackman?"
Chandler nodded. "Still want that hot and medium, right?" He confirmed, keeping himself busy behind the bar as he continued to talk to her about the pets. "They actually have some adoption event coming up at the end of this week." He informed her and nodded as she commented it was hard not to adopt all of the cats. "Yeah, I also have a dog at home so I'm keeping my limit at one of each 'cause I'm not gonna turn into the crazy cat lady in my neighborhood. But his name is Ryan Reynolds - that was what the shelter named him and I couldn't possibly de-Reynolds him, you know?"
Leyla did her best to make this a warm place, one of the reasons she chose a spot close to the coast. It created an atmosphere, almost like a vacation in the middle of the day. Though maybe for the locals, it was more mundane by now. As she looked at her latest customer, she could see a bit of a glow--and maybe a bump? Though Leyla would never make assumptions.
"Good choice," she agreed. Most bars added so little alcohol to their cocktails that it was hard to tell the difference when that part was missing. A good flavor speaks for itself. "My first regular," she joked, "maybe I can get your name and train the bar to call it out every time you come in like Norm on Cheers--if you ever saw that show."
Mawk Tales felt like the perfect spot for Alice to spend her afternoon. Nonalcoholic drinks for the pregnant wine lover? She could enjoy some of that. She eyed the menu and licked over her lips. Everything looked good, but when she heard the word ‘strawberry’ she knew that’s where she had to start.
“I do enjoy a good fruity drink,” she said with a nod. “I’ll try the strawberry one,” she gave a smile. “You know, I’ll probably be here quite often, trying something new.”
"Oh good because I do," Leyla admitted, not in a rude way--well, maybe sometimes in a rude way. Just not aloud. She also didn't have the most faith in people, so maybe that was part of it. "I feel oddly at peace with them, there is something about them, which is probably why equine therapy is a thing, I guess." Her interest piqued as the woman beside her brought up dressage. "I always thought that much be such fun. Nostalgic? So you don't compete anymore?"
"You can always judge for taste," Elise said, a bit cheeky. She had cultivated an image for herself that veered just an ounce into snobby territory, but never too far. "Yeah, it's an awesome place, and an awesome opportunity. They're the coolest animals out there, and Harmony Healers does such a good job." She patted the horse's neck. "We do, when we can. We both did dressage growing up, so it's kinda nostalgic."
Since the moment of his confession, she had wanted something to make it better. Some word, some revenge, some idea...anything that would just make it better. He could offer her none of it. She knew he was sorry, but it wasn't a word that made it go away. It didn't bring the trust back or make her feel less unworthy; it didn't take the carefully crafted walls down or ease the self-talk that plagued her.
She couldn't leave him like this, even after everything. If any of the old Leyla was still alive, she had to care. She hated him, that was still true, but she loved him too. Not in the same way, that was long in the rearview, but people who made it to her heart never really left. Wiping quickly at her own tear, she started to reach for him but pulled her hand away like a flame that would burn. "You'll be okay," she murmured instead.
More of that poison-laced truth. If he wanted it, then why didn't he? That elusive why continued to taunt and torment her. "I'm having trouble believing that," she confessed honestly because it was all she could say. It still felt like her fault. You're too difficult, Leyla... "Maybe you're still just looking for something." Something not in her.
Her heart caved in as that question struck her with a million memories. Hands shaking, fork nervously tapping the plate, 'it's not the food' she would sob as if he didn't already know that. He was a great cook, and he never took any offense when she struggled to eat whatever he made. What do you need from me? When she looked too long in the mirror, counting every flaw. What do you need from me? When her mother called and made some fleeting jab of a remark. What do you need from me? "We're adults, there's no need to avoid each other, it's a small town," she said, leaving all emotion out of her voice. Her questions seemed pointless, and she wasn't sure if he had any more answers. But it came out anyway. "Was it...exhausting to love me? Was it too dark? Did you just need light?"
It was on the tip of his tongue again—another apology, trying to flee his parted lips and find her. Apologizing for apologizing too much was one of Vitus's most stubborn habits, formed over the last few years. He swallowed the rest of his I'm sorry's, forcing the horde of them back down into the core of his body. Leyla didn't want them anymore. Maybe she never had.
Here they were, both crying because Vitus hurt her ten years ago, and yet. Leyla was the one being patient with him. Guiding him back to some semblance of calm, the same way she used to. Deep breaths. She'd told him that when he stumbled home and splintered into a thousand sharp pieces after seeing his mother for the first time in years. As he had back then, Vitus followed her voice, drawing and releasing each breath one at a time. It helped. Of course it helped. And the fact that he'd burdened her with caretaking here, now, with him of all people, only drove the guilt deeper into his chest.
"I know, how it made you feel. How it made you doubt. But I did want to be faithful to you. I swear, I did. I've always wanted to be that guy." The one who could leave home for days at a time and think only of the connection waiting for him there. The one who didn't become excited, in some small part, whenever he cheated on someone. Vitus wanted the happily-ever-after kind of love, just never knew how to hold onto it long enough to make it last. She was right—he needed to figure it out, for the sake of every partner he'd ever hurt and every one he might still hurt down the line.
"What do you need from me?" He had asked her this question before. Intermittently throughout their relationship, as she struggled to look at the food on her plate or keep the future she wanted within sight. Back then it had been a matter of supporting her through personal troubles. This time, it was a matter of yielding to her amid the mess he made. "I can... answer any questions you have. I can steer clear of you around town." Intentional avoidance would heap more pain atop his shoulders, but this wasn't about him. "Whatever you need, Leyla."
"I agree," she hummed, "they're just...majestic." Smiling as Elise mentioned cats, she admitted, "you have cats? How many? I've been spending more time than a normal person should at the cat cafe. If I'm not careful, I'm going to take one home." Leyla could talk about animals all day. People? She wasn't so sure about most times, but animals? Animals were trustworthy. "That makes sense, sounds like something you'd have to really dedicate too, like no other jobs. Doesn't sound like a bad sports career option, though. I bet it was fun as a kid though, to grow up that way?"
"There's a large and quiet elegance about horses," Elise said, nodding along. "I have cats and those are...fake elegant, whereas the horses are the real thing." She smiled at the interest, most people did not care about dressage in the least. "Nah, you have to be really good and have the time to do it as an adult, it's kind of like many other sports, except it's hard to do for fun if you're not competing."
alyssasutterstylist “@boosheri ➰ chic in @theory__”
Mawk Tales welcomes you to come by and try our newest Fall flavors during this year's Creek Fest! Our Creek Fest mocktail flight special is $5 and includes our Apple Cider Mule, Autumn Spice, Pumpkin Pie Martini, and Ginger Pear. All proceeds from the sales of these specials will go to Merrock's local therapeutic riding program, Harmony Healers! Then feel free to grab a full size version to go while you explore the rest of the event!
Because you guys are the best adopted dog parents that Walter and Gale could ask for, and also because you deal with me being a man... and that makes you cinnamon rolls in my eyes.
xx Dare
"Caught him myself, but cameras aren't a bad idea," Leyla joked. Her qualifications for what a snacker was was admittedly rather low, since she had never been much of one. "Ah, you're a smart man, sounds like you've had some experience hiding some tasty things," she replied with a small laugh. It did sound nice, like this whole week was turning out to be. It was strange how comforting the small town had become, how well it seemed to suit her. If she'd grown up in a place like this, she had to wonder what else could have been different. "I'll have to do that then," she wittled down her thoughts to one non-committal phrase. Her smile brightened as he mentioned his dog. "Oh, are those people annoying? I've always dreamed of being one. What's your dog's name? I've sort of adopted my roommate's dogs for the moment, he's just not fully aware of it yet. But if one of us moves out, I might need a lawyer." She was joking...mostly. Nodding as he mentioned his girlfriend's children, she asked, "how many does she have?"
Josh found himself laughing as she outed one of her roommates as a snacker. "Do you set up cameras to catch them rooting through the fridge, or are they more obvious about the things that they're sneaking out of cupboards or cabinets?" Josh liked to snack, maybe not so much to a level where someone would label him as a snacker… but he liked to have a good treat here and there, enjoy something tasty. "Just find a box of some food that you know no one else in the house likes, and tuck it into that in the fridge. No one will touch it," surefire way to turn them away from a food was to disguise it as a food they didn't like, after all. "I think so," he nodded his head eagerly, "the wagon ride out there alone is nice, get to see some pretty sights, and then the actual pumpkin patch is really well done, too. If you don't get there during Creek Fest, I recommend coming out after," gathering up all of the pumpkins she might need in time for Halloween. Smiling, he shook his head, reaching for the next drink sample and downing it, "I don't. I'm one of those annoying, 'my dog is my child,' types. My girlfriend has children, though."
Leyla had decided to set up a booth at Creek Fest to let the town sample some Fall flavors she'd created. It was a great way to get some good publicity and feedback for her drinks. Stopping into the Supply Sack to grab a few things for the signs she needed for the booth, she tried to be in and out but she was a bit dazzled by all the options in here. It was truly a hobby paradise. A voice she recognized caused her to pause, but this time the familarity didn't make her what to take a running leap into the ocean. "Mills?!" She exclaimed as she turned around.
who: cemile & open (1/3) [ @merrock ]
where: the supply shack
Cemile wasn't artistic in any way. But she'd begrudgingly go to the craft store to pick up some paints for her students. They'd been excited about their upcoming performance and wanted to make posters, and she had a bit of a soft spot for them, so she found herself here. Unfortunately, she didn't know what kind of paint to buy. After all, if she brought something that stained, she'd be hearing from their parents, and that was the last thing she wanted. So she stood in the aisle, glancing at her options, when she noticed someone nearby. "Excuse me?" she spoke up, hoping to catch their attention. "Do you think puffy paint would work for posters, or is there a better option?"
Leyla. 35. Owner of Mawk Tales and housemate to Aisha, Darrius, and Emeline.
129 posts