awrote

[awrote]

Look here. What? Don't look down on me.

[awrote]

“well, he did!” silas argues, knuckles tapping on the counter as lips spread into a smile. “but that doesn’t make it any less true.” he sits back, looking her in the eyes and folding his arms over his chest. did it irk him that picassouche was borderline flirting with his wife? yes. it did. what happened that night had been a response to insecurity. it wasn’t something he had experienced within their marriage. not like the masquerade ball, when he punched noah and got into a—literally—bloody brawl. he wouldn’t sucker punch anyone as a grown adult and father but that wasn’t something that was totally off the table. he’d do anything for his children—and amara, too. get his knuckles bloody or cover up a murder for one of them, anything. the expression on his face softens when his ex-wife talks fondly of his compliments. “did you just compliment my compliments, perez?” a bit of heat pricks at the nape of his neck and cheeks. 

it’s a good thing that iliana and theo come barging into the room; otherwise, the flirtations might have continued and taken them into dangerous, abandoned territory. the blond’s demeanor remains bright as the kitchen is filled by their children’s joyful and eager voices. he pushes up from his seat to follow behind the trio but stops as amara turns and looks back at him. “oh, i remember.” their competitive streaks made any game fun because neither of them went easy on each other. silas knew that if he let amara win, it would make more upset than if he beat her. 

sporting a very serious demeanor, he takes the controller and then plops onto the couch next to amara. he selects princess peach, rousing a giggle out of the kids. “are you ready to get your b-u-t-t handed to you, amara?” eyes aim a narrowed, combative glower. as the game starts, silas hits the gas and drives ahead, indiscriminately throwing shells and banana peels at anyone ahead of him. a menacing cackle erupts from his chest.

she's surprised when she notices the sudden shift in silas, how he almost shrinks into himself. where they once were the perfect balance for each other, they now seem to be on a seesaw. when one goes up, the other comes down. amara didn't mean to make it that way. she tries her best to cheerfully reply to him, "it's in my office at work; the focal point of the room, like it's meant to be." she winks, trying to pull him back from the trenches of whatever feeling or memory he's stuck within. she prefers to think about when they hung the painting in the dining room. how their mock argument turned into the kind of insulting, flirty banter they'd had when they first met. none of it real, all of it enticing them to make use of the fact that their house had been child-free that night. amara wishes they could have it back.

but when silas recalls the exact comment from when the piece was given to her, amara knows she's assessed his mood correctly. "i thought he 'got that compliment from a 'how to compliment' book for dummies.' wasn't that what you said?" she waits for him to stand a little straighter, to feel pushed enough to give her some fight before she cools him back off. "your compliments are better, because they're real." or at least at one point they were. for what ego or falseness silas could have at times, the genuine compliments he gave to people were always some of the most thoughtful ones she'd ever heard. no one would assume someone like silas would notice them in such a deep way but when he did, it could stop a person dead in their tracks.

iliana appears at her father's side without either he or his ex-wife noticing, taking them by surprise. "daddy, it's your turn!" the little girl beams as she hands her controller to silas. there was a lot of work on sharing going on and despite silas being iliana's natural first choice, she was getting better at it. "you too, mom!" theo calls from the couch. "i set up rainbow road since iliana and i can't play it together." his sheepish voice makes amara laugh, heading in that direction before turning back to silas with a smile. "come on, princess peach. it's time for you to remember how good i am at this."

[awrote]

bright hues draw into slits, attention remains undivided on her facial expressions. body hunches forward, arms folded and resting atop of the counter, taking in amara's features on this rare occasion. he fights the urge to reach out and touch her face. trace a thumb under her lower lip, admit that their divorce had been a mistake and if she wants to put the blame on him, he'll accept it, as long as they can be together again. lately he's been feeling nothing but uninspired and lost.

however, as she recalls the night the painting had been gifted to her, his thoughts close in and everything goes black. it had been a milestone in her career, hadn't it? something to celebrate, isn't that what he had wanted when they left that gala. when his former art teacher put in the good word for her and she got an interview in this very same city that held so many possibilities and a future. your means of punishment are more thought out. he can't help staring at her as if her words had twisted his heart and wringed out the blood. it wouldn't have been as painful. he hadn't meant for her to think he was punishing her. he would never do that to someone he someone he loves. that night, he made something so special for her about him. instead of lashing out with a fit of jealousy and doubt (more suspicion about the man's intentions and motives), he should have showed her how proud he was to be her husband and not gone to sleep huffing and puffing.

he follows her gaze to the piece that had replaced the painting. lips part open but instead of boasting about how tasteful their kids are because they inherited it from him, he just turned his head down and rubbed the back of his neck. fingers run over the short blond hair that has been growing since the buzzcut incident. "but of course, it does look much better." silas' throat feels dry before adding, "i hope you kept it, at least." he stares into the lukewarm liquid inside his cup then looks her in the eyes. "most uniquely beautiful person, isn't that what it said? stanley wasn't lying."

with a comedic wiggle of her eyebrows at the use of the word sinister in relation to her, amara leans forward on the island to hear silas' thoughts. his answer is anything but surprising. it elicits a laugh from her that sounded like something he used to be able to cause frequently. because of course that was what he would choose. "that makes total sense," she can admit when she regains her composure. "you never did like that thing." and though it's gorgeous, even amara can admit her own complicated feelings towards it.

the night it was gifted to her had been tumultuous to say the least. it was back when they were young, theo was barely out of the toddler stage and iliana had been born barely six months prior. emotions and stress were constantly fluctuating in tandem but amara was starting to take leaps in her career; and after watching silas receive his accolades in a steady procession, she'd been delighted to be the co-curator at one of seattle's best art galleries. even better, being given a piece by an artist who had officially put her curating talents on the map was just the cherry on top. if not for the somewhat inappropriate words that followed. "a uniquely beautiful piece for the most uniquely beautiful person i've met in this world."

silas had taken it in stride, waiting until they got home that night to question what was going on. amara almost finds herself missing that version of him now - wonders if she hadn't shot down his jealousy and told him to be better than it, he may have fought a little harder when their marriage began to fall apart. "your means of punishment are always more thought out than some simple destruction of property," she notes, not as a dig but as a simple truth. "it's not here anymore." amara's gaze moves to where it used to hang in their dining room. "the kids wanted something with more color and i couldn't argue with how pretty it is. they have your taste." she gestures for silas to look at what hangs on the wall. a new piece for a new time, and one that read as something their father would have picked himself.

[awrote]

if only for a second, silas' eyes widen. his glass planet display is harmless and hurts no one! a far away memory of a younger, giddier and green self, browsing the shops for decor for his brand new office. had it not been for amara, that collectible wouldn't be in his possession in the first place. while he was a self-proclaimed connoisseur, it only doubled in the company of an artist. "you're more sinister than i thought." perhaps it's true what they say: once the rose colored glasses wear off, you finally see someone's true colors. except two can play that game.

fingers idly tap on the ceramic as he ponders her question. truthfully, it never once crossed his mind to destroy something of hers. maybe because he knows how much she treasures her possessions and how careful she selects them. although... there is that painting who's meaning he fails to understand but that isn't the reason why he wants to tear thing to shreds.

it was the artist who gifted her the piece that made his skin crawl with jealousy and a dash of vexation. back then, of course, he had to play the part of doting husband. someone giving such a... gift to his wife is supposed to be a compliment. "your stanley carson piece." he answers, concealing the venom hiding underneath his words. she found it charming and what was he to do? "it deserves to go straight into the garbage. it's not even worth the fuel." while it was a harsh thing to say, these divorced couple exercises might convince him that they had made the right choice. instead of thinking of what could be, the what-ifs.

amara didn't remember buying silas the sweater, but it causes her infatuation with it to makes more sense. she smiles at his teasing, covering her mouth with her hand as giggles threaten to spill from her. "i didn't have a list," she rebuttals, though there were a few key things that came to mind. "clothes wouldn't have been on it, anyway. but some of your more expensive office decor…" her voice trails off as she shrugs innocently. "you could buy a new wardrobe but those special pieces you love…" amara's fingers tap around her cup of coffee in a menacing fashion. "would have been harder to replace."

in her darkest hours, amara had definitely thought about causing some destruction; wanting to make a point that may have been heard louder than something that came from yet another verbal altercation. they'd both been equally petty just as they had been at the very beginning of their relationship. or rather, back when they still loathed each other. "your glass planet display called to me. many times. except i've always thought it was one of the most beautiful things we-" amara stutters, correcting herself quickly, "you own. so, it was spared." she takes a few calming sips in order to stop herself from over-explaining, from appearing like she cared too much or was enjoying herself by teasing or threatening him.

"what about you? did you look at anything of mine and think: if i set this on fire or toss it outside to let the rain ruin it, i wonder how bent out of shape i can make her?" his ex-wife's dark hues narrow, "don't lie, you little deviant. i know the way you think."

[awrote]

Was your star next to mine ?

[awrote]

although charlie almost blanches at the thought of bea witnessing what he does for a living, it is in everyone’s best interest that the necklace be pawned as soon as possible. since the gang is staying at the dubois farm, they are all prime suspects and guilty by association. when she bats her thick, dark lashes, his train of thought derails. a big, dopey grin spreads across his face, reaching out to grab her by the arms and leaning forward to plant a spontaneous kiss on her lips. “you’re somethin’, bea, somethin’ truly special.” he whispers after pulling back but keeping a hold on her.

their moment is interrupted as joe approaches the pair and whistles to get their attention. he dips his head and gives them both a knowing look before turning his attention to charlie, “you ready t’go? y’all can keep on canoodling when we return… if we return.” his voice is light in spite of what comes out of it albeit sincere. the other bandit shakes his head, “ah, don’t sound so grim, joe. we’ll come back.” charlie says after gently releasing bea and placing his hands over his pistols, “‘cause we got ourselves a shooter.” head tilts in the songstress’ direction.

for a second, joe looks on in disbelief but he knows not to judge a book by its cover. charlie seemed all prim and proper when they first pulled him out of a river and now he was a solid criminal that spoke like the rest of them. “well, welcome aboard, miss bell. we’ve never had a lady in our crew so i must warn ya, things might get a little intense but since ya’ willfully volunteered, i reckon you’re up for th’ job.”

to think that last night they’d both been lamenting saying goodbye. thank ya’ oysters. charlie feels it’s inappropriate to be grateful that poor stu got the stomach bug but fortunately, it wasn’t fatal. it means he gets to spend a couple of more days with bea and he was going to cherish every second. “i won’t let anythin’ happen to you.” he takes both her hands and squeezes them before planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

after they all say their goodbyes, they take off on the road on their respective horses. joe leads the pair along the trail, whistling a cheerful tone then pauses. “so here’s how we’re gonna play it out when we go into town,” he begins, “i’m gonna say i’m bea’s father who’s accompanying her and her husband to get a marriage certificate.” since his back is turned to them, they can’t see the grin on his face. “i figured that’s the best story we can come up with since you two can’t stop makin’ googly eyes at each other.” grifting isn’t charlie’s strongest talent let alone in the presence of someone he seems to be besotted by.

in their short time together, bea's been able to paint what she believes to be a clear picture of who charlie thinks he is. the problem is that vision doesn't align with the charlie she sees. they're at odds for the most part, sharing some traits but on the whole - they're different. she watches his gaze move from her to over his shoulder and back again. nervous, pensive, deeply ashamed even though he shouldn't be. she wants to ask if he hurt someone in order to get that necklace but before she can, bea realizes she doesn't care one way or the other. they've all hurt people. or worse, if she allows herself to recognize charlie has probably done certain things she may have been frightened by. but if he's ashamed, it doesn't stick around too long. he and his men need help.

beatrice listens closely, wondering if charlie is asking what she thinks he's asking. nothing is explicit: he's giving her the chance to wish him well and send the men on their way. but of course that's not the option a girl like her would choose. she's used to getting up to her version of no good, and her shooting skills having always been above average. mr. dubois taught her how to go toe-to-to with him, and he'd fought in a war. surely that had to count for something.

"i could be your shooter," she beams, unapologetic; coming at the problem head-on and unafraid of what the consequences might be. for most of her life, bea had been bored. she looked for attention, and sometimes trouble. being with charlie could give her a bit of both. it was an easy yes to give, if that's what the cowboy was looking for. "havin' a lady with the two of you might call less suspicion, too." she bats her eyelashes and widens her dark hues with a smile, "and look at me…" bea says as she takes a small step closer to him, calling on the last bit of womanly wiles she has in order to finalize the plan. "who would believe i'm up to no good?"

[awrote]

their easy conversation shows that it’s possible for them to co-parent civilly. silas turns his body halfway to spare a glance at the living room. their kids smashing buttons and yelling, attention completely absorbed by the screen’s flashing lights. it brings a soft smile to his face, well, a conscious one. he hadn’t noticed the one that’s been sitting on his lips throughout their not alone, alone time in the kitchen. appearing as though he was subtly bewitched.

“i’d rather she express herself than keep it all in but i understand where you’re coming from. we’ll be partially responsible for who they become someday.” as much as he jokes about their behavior or pokes fun at their quirks, silas has a positive outlook on their children’s future. “when the younger generations inevitably destroy the planet, they won’t be among the tyranny. they’ll either live or die as heroes.” he expresses dramatically then lifts his mug in a mock toast before taking a gulp. there’s a distinction between a regular coffee and amara’s that can’t be compared. even his fancy nespresso machine is no competition. he holds back from closing his eyes and emitting a pleased hum.

“you bought me this sweater.” a soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. coincidentally, he had worn it on a day that he’d see her. everything else he owned doesn’t exactly scream ‘field trip chaperone.’ being accustomed to suits and dress shirts of various colors. he figured that those might have been a bit too flashy for the rest of the faculty and their affliction to beige. amara would have probably accused him of showing off and being overdressed for a museum. “but now i’m curious, what other pieces have you thought of ruining?” a brow rises inquisitively, he pretends to look aghast by the comment but he can’t hide the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. they have no real reason to spare each other’s feelings anymore and he’s eager to know what she truly thinks about him. a hand gently settles on the counter’s surface as his eyes level on hers, “and don’t hold back.”

quiet laughter comes from her, both at silas' joke about their children and his fear that amara might dump her coffee over him. "like i said this morning, you haven't given me reason to do such a thing." her own smile mirrors his, lighter and less strained than the rest of their day together. "but i will admit i've definitely had thoughts of ruining other pieces of your clothing. never that sweater, though. i've always liked it." she remains where she is, situating herself back against the counter for support. her gaze scans silas and familiar thoughts return. how handsome he looks, how the sweater he's wearing accentuates the color of his eyes. the truth, despite both of their teasing, hangs between them. they've had their moments through their separation and divorce, but something as trivial as ruining each other's things hadn't been a preferred method of warfare.

finally there seems to be a level of calm between them that silas and amara haven't had in quite some time. seeing him back in the home they built their family in and subsequently lost is more bitter than sweet, but amara finds his presence about as normal as it can be. she doesn't notice theo's attention, or iliana's; how their son pulls her back and stops her when she attempts to get up from the couch to join her parents. seeing silas in her kitchen is reminiscent of the feeling she got the first time they were together and she woke up to his body still beside her. she fears that if she does anything to break the bubble, she'll regret it. she'll lose him before she has a chance to appreciate the fact that he's here. and that they're getting along.

"plus, we're not alone, alone." she juts her chin over his shoulder, gesturing to their kids. "i have to set a good example." amara's voice softens in an effort to not be overheard, "we don't need to give your daughter another method of 'expressing her emotions' that could end up with a major mess." iliana had already found plenty of ways to voice her disapproval of the certain injustices to her short life without learning more from her parents.

[awrote]

once their group of four had settled for dinner, having iliana and theo made the conversation run smoothly their voices filled in the silences that neither silas nor amara could have sealed. from there on, things had improved since the afternoon's debacle. he noticed that his ex-wife appeared more relaxed and eased into being in close proximity. although the thought that his presence made her uncomfortable does make him uneasy, he does his best not to overstep.

after kicking off their shoes in different directions, the kids race down the hallway. theo cheers in triumph after beating iliana to turn on the television and console. no fair you cheated! cheater cheater pumpkin eater! silas picks up their shoes and lines them up in neatly against the wall. a familiar aroma beckons him towards the kitchen, he stops under the door frame and watches amara. when she turns up, he freezes and returns the smile. "it's been a minute since i've had coffee this late." it's easy to blame it on laziness but the truth is that drinking a cup of coffee alone in the evening doesn't feel the same. "thanks." he takes the mug and lifts it towards his lips.

"four? that's quite generous of you. i give them two." a chuckles leaves his lips, glancing in the direction of the living room. pushing his sleeves up his arms, silas remembers what amara said earlier. i hate that it's like this. in response, he simply sat there, looking absolutely stupid, dumbfounded and quite frankly, speechless. swallowing the knot that formed in his throat, overcome by emotion that he didn't think would crash onto him like a giant sea swell. "this is nice..." lips curl into an appreciative smile, nodding slowly before drawing in a deep breath. "we're here, alone and you haven't poured your coffee over my head. thank god, by the way. this is one of my favorite sweaters."

in the same regard that theo took after his mother, iliana was in equal measures just like silas. not only did their daughter take after him looks wise, but their personalities were identical in just about every way. theo rolls his eyes at iliana's teasing, wishing there was a world in which he got to have his parents company without having to share the spotlight with her. but he'd gotten them for the whole day, time he'll cherish both now and when he's older; and iliana hadn't. older brother instincts take over and allow her the opportunity to have silas and amara's undivided attention. "no one died, iliana. grandpa artie is fine," amara replies with a laugh. their daughter was at the age where morbidity was becoming a common topic of conversation. that post-kindergarten clarity brought forth endless questions about life and what comes after. "we're having dinner together tonight."

after the silence of iliana's processing, theo quickly adds, "and dad gets to come over after, too." it makes iliana beam. her hand shoots up for silas when he stands, taking it in favor of driving with him over theo and amara. "for mario kart?" the little girl asks as she and her family make their way towards their vehicles. "mario kart, dessert. whatever you want." amara smiles down at both of her children, hoping silas takes the comment at face value; as an apology without actually giving one.

"daddy, i want noodles and company," iliana notes, receiving no push back from theo or amara. it had options, it wasn't particularly fancy, and they would have plenty of time to be together back at the house this way. amara wonders if iliana's thought of those things, if she didn't opt for a hibachi experience because she wanted as much of her dad's unadulterated company as she could get. amara stops at her car with theo, letting silas know the plan was fine with her. "we'll meet you two over there."

their dinner, thankfully, lacked the awkwardness of theo's field trip. silas and amara's conversation flows easier when it's lead by their two children. the less they had to sit with themselves, the better. she doesn't protest when silas offers to pay for everyone, doesn't bat an eyelash when she has to take theo and iliana's backpacks so silas and their kids can pick up dessert on the way. as long as it makes them happy. she manages to get home, change into a more comfortable outfit, and start warming up a small pot of decaf coffee for she and her ex-husband to enjoy before the kids burst through the front door. sugared up on ice cream, they barely even acknowledge her presence before turning on mario kart. when silas enters the kitchen just off the living room, she pushes a cup across the island for him. "just in case you need a little bitter after all that sweet."

they'd picked up that idea - a decaf after dessert - while on their first spring break trip together. it was a very french, or in their case, french canadian thing to do and for amara, the habit stuck. she smiles at him, remembering the countless nights they've engaged in this ritual. "they probably won't last more than four races before they're fighting each other, so, i'd drink that fast if i was you."

[awrote]

"please don't leave me behind." stu begs after swallowing the pill bea had supplied. a bad oyster isn't going to kill stu because this isn't his first time at the rodeo. it just renders him bedridden and in no condition to travel miles to the next town. which is a shame because he's one of their best shots. by a fluke that they encounter any trouble, they'd be down to charlie and joe. randy's good on a physical fight and overall defense but has a terrible aim. an exasperated laugh falls out of charlie's lips, "wouldn't dream of it, stu. ya' get a good rest now. we'll get everythin' handled." he offers an assuring nod before stepping out of the barn.

the instant their gazes connect, charlie looks away in shame. some cowboys are honest working people, passing by towns and working in farms for a silver dime. others storm towns, stealing from anyone that has something take. taking the earnings of hardworking folks and generationally wealthy people. their gang only swindles from the rich so that makes them not as bad as the latter but not as honorable as the aforementioned. nevertheless, stealing is stealing. he feels undeserving to be in the presence of someone as principled and honest as bea.

"it ain't that, bea. i trust ya'..." even though they met merely hours ago, there's something about her that feels safe, trustworthy. "i just—it's just that you're too good." charlie steps closer, catching her deep gaze in his. "and 'm not." he whispers, shoulders slump defeatedly. tongue runs along his lower lip, looking over his shoulder then back at her, "we stole a necklace from a real important guy's daughter. he's likely searchin' for us that's why we were in hurry 'bout gettin' out of town." he explains, drawing in a deep breath. cerulean hues widen slightly, teeth worry at his lesser lip, "a couple of us are gonna have t' go over to the next town and pawn the necklace so it's someone else's problem. joe and i are goin' but we're down by one shooter. that would be stu but as ya' can see he's not feelin' so hot..."

they both take off in a run for the barn within a few paces of each other the whole way and when charlie asks for cold cloths, bea sprints back home. along with some compresses, she brings two antihistamines in the form of pills that were given to her family by the dubois'. "try to get him to swallow this, it'll help with the swelling in his throat." even without knowing much, bea can tell there's some kind of poison pumping through the man's body. she drapes one cloth across his forehead, waits for charlie to get the pill down him before draping the other against his neck. "just give it time."

beatrice steps back, removing herself from the barn altogether. so the men could talk, or plot and plan. whatever they thought was best. she felt guilty for hoping stuart's condition was a slow progression back to health but still the thoughts remain until charlie comes outside. "what is it y'all stole?" she asks quietly, having gathered the information from stuart's slip up and general knowledge about bandits. or the kinds of cowboys who came into town and left shortly thereafter. they weren't ranchers. they weren't lugging around money like they'd robbed a bank. beatrice knew what was left: jewels and gold.

"i won't say anythin'." dark hues take him in, assessing what charlie actually makes of her. was he hiding the truth to protect her or because whatever it is they've stolen is too valuable to even utter the name? under her breath she adds, "you can't have laid with me all night, wanting what we wanted… and think i'd sell you out. i don't need to be a rat to get paid." bea wasn't afraid to sing like a canary when it came to bad men. she'd sell an evil man down the river without blinking. but not charlie. not that group of men she knows he's helping protect by staying silent. "i wouldn't do that to you."

[awrote]

[awrote]

"well, how 'bout that? so am i." charlie whispers in bea's hair, moving a hand out of her dress, gently smoothing and tidying up the skirt. somehow it makes perfect sense that they'd argue over on who would give the other affection. not that such day would ever come. he'll be gone come morning. so he holds her close, taking in the scent of her hair, memorizing the weight of her body on his, her gentle breathing after falling deep in sleep. lulling him into a slumber that takes him amply, reminiscent of a time when things had been simple with a twinge of longing.

what wakes him from such a wonderful shuteye are voices that only become recognizable once he's gained enough conscious. the pounding in his head is nothing foreign. those glasses of whiskey always seem to catch up in the mornings and he usually wakes up with a killer hangover from drinking the day before. startled by the older woman that he can assume is bea's mother, he sits up and looks down at his half unbuttoned shirt. an anxious grin cracks his lips, holding back a curse. foul language in the presence of a respectable individual is disrespectful. fingers quickly work the buttons to the top before scrambling up to greet bea's mother.

"'s nice to finally meet you, ms. bell." since beatrice's last name is bell he assumes that's the case for the missus. he extends a hand for a handshake then contemplates her invitation before looking in the direction of the barn where the rest of the gang are. they’re probably getting ready to leave, anxious to get that jewel they stole pawned in the town located a couple miles away from the scene of the crime. it brought less suspicion among authorities seeking a gang of thieves. their portraits on the posters had been so poorly drawn, lacking their likeness and relying on witnesses that had only seen a blur of them. charlie knew for a fact that he wasn't that hideous. except he'd be stupid to complain about it.

"that's mighty kind of you, ma'am but-" a frantic joe sprints across the barn and interrupts their conversation, eyes wide and wild. "charlie! you gotta come quick. it's stu. he's burnin' up with a fever." charlie pulls on the suspenders hanging by his hips whilst listening. it must have been something he ate. stu is always gorging on delicacies. it must be true what they say, too much of a good thing is a bad thing.

as they approach the barn to check on stu, he's laying on a pile of hay, red as a lobster and sweating like a piglet. "stu... stuart? how are ya' feelin'?" charlie kneels beside the agonizing male, unafraid of catching anything if what stu has is contagious, "oh charles, i ain't ever wanna see an oyster in my life again." he groans then yelps as charlie smacks his arm, "i told ya' not to eat that stuff." seafood has a strange effect on his body. makes his throat close up. the doctors ruled it as an allergy and charlie has never touched it since he was six. he can't imagine it doing any good.

"bea, do you have some cloths we might be able to use to drench cold water to keep stu here cool?" he asks after rising from beside stu and stepping towards her.

"we gotta get out of town." one of the bandits urged, "what about th' ne-" charlie clears his throat, meets the other’s eyes and shakes his head slowly. well, this puts a delay on their plans.

for a moment she almost lets him. charlie's hand wanders, spurred on by the soft moans that manage to escape within their kiss. beatrice would curse her sensibility come morning, especially when that please from him nearly crumbles her right then and there. but she stops him just shy of where he's needed, after he's realized she's not wearing anything beneath her dress. an exasperated exhale makes her laugh. "i'm sorry," she laughs into the side of his neck. "but i'm a giver, not a taker."

they both lay in the silence again, the sounds of their steadying breaths now louder than those crickets. it makes bea smile, and blush, trying her best to think of anything but charlie's hand that's now resting on her hip. or the fact that the reason they can't or won't be together is because come this time tomorrow, he'll be long gone. "i think sleep is what'll make us both feel the best," she suggests, turning herself just enough for her leg to wind up over his, for her to nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder like they were two pieces of a puzzle.

sleep settles into their bones after a few more brushes of fingers and kisses on cheeks; whispered wishes and dreams that cause a lump to form in bea's throat. then it pulls them under, neither stirring at all until the next morning. when beatrice's mother clears her throat. "i told ya she'd be out here with him," luci giggles. bea's eyes open slowly, confused by the sounds of voices until she recognizes who they belong to. she springs up, grateful that most of the blanket is still covering charlie. "she's fully clothed, so that's promising," her mother notes before taking a few steps back in order to head outside.

when beatrice and luci arrive behind her, bea is sure charlie will have woken up with the sound of the screen door closing. "nothin' happened." she's quick to say though her mother raises a hand. "you're a grown woman, honeysuckle. you ain't got t' explain a thing to me." immediately her shoulders sag, relieved to have not been in trouble despite the fact that she's no longer a child.

their mother's gaze raises behind bea, waving politely when charlie makes his way near. "i hope that lousy couch was sufficient. bea's always loved the thing, me not so much." she smiles at the man she doesn't know, sees every ounce of what her daughter must have seen. how handsome and tall, strong and kind. the latter within those pretty eyes of his. "would ya like some breakfast or will ya be on your way?" it wasn't a judgmental question, bea can tell. despite what her mother's gone through, she remains resilient; doesn't force her past onto those in the present. it's the hooting in the distance that made her ask. something bea didn't notice until her mother mentions it. "sounds like your group's got a lot goin' on down yonder."

[awrote]

their daughter's outbursts are untamable. once she starts, there's really no stopping it. it's disconcerting how that much wrath fits into such a small body. except silas recognizes iliana's tantrums as if he's looking right into the past, at a tinier, slighter more chaotic child with identical golden waves and an ambition to gain control of a situation far too unattainable. amara's right, there's on point in arguing about that.

be honest with yourself. green optics sharply settle on her dark, pleading expression. upon letting out a defeated, nearly theatrical sigh, forearms rest lazily on the table's surface. "i guess not." he rolls his eyes upward before crushing the empty bag in his hand into a ball. a small but visible smile slowly spreads across his lips at the memory but as soon as he realizes what his muscles are doing, he clears his throat and takes the last swig of his soda bottle. as theo retreats to join the rest of his classmates, silas tosses the crumpled bag and bottle into the trash can at arms length from them.

as amara starts off at an apology, he raises an eyebrow and waits for her to finish. feigning disinterest in her and whatever she has to say now that their son isn't there. what finally comes out of her lips cracks through his callousness and reveals a jolt of surprise. as if she read his thoughts and unlike him, had the courage to express them. before his lips even open to speak and muster something to say, she walks away, leaving him soaking in the confession. for the remainder of the field trip, silas remains uncharacteristically quiet and speaking only when spoken to. still charming and extroverted as ever but with an air of self-consciousness and unease that only amara would recognize.

when they return to the school and iliana parades down the steps, followed by her clique. she waves goodbye before squealing and sprinting towards her family. "mommy! daddy! theosaur!" some of the kids had been making fun of her after her parents divorce had been the talk of those meddling pta parents so she made sure to let it be known that her father hadn't abandoned her and that her mother wasn't miserable. "how's my sugar plum fairy princess?" silas kneels down to eye level, taking her backpack off her shoulders and holding it. iliana huffs and sighs, "not good." she pouts, "it's not fair theodork got to spend time with you guys alllllll day while i was stuck here for-ever." their daughter sticks her tongue at her older brother. "did something happen?" it's so rare that both her parents come to pick them up from school. "who died? grandpa artie?" only that old man threw tantrums that would put hers to shame and he's also one of the oldest people she knows making him the most susceptible to be a victim of the grim reaper.

amara takes note of the pointed cheeto being forced in her direction, and with a polite smile responds, "no, silas. i have no fear about getting my butt kicked. what i do fear," she says as she looks down at their son pointedly, "is our daughter trying to play, losing, and then throwing a meltdown of epic proportions. i'd like the evening to be pleasant, if that's all right with you." the final statement comes out a with a level of acidity she didn't intend, the subliminal messaging right in front of his face: don't leave me to clean up a mess you make with your children.

in an attempt to once again cool off tensions, she adds, "besides, i don't think you've beat me on that level since the first day we had the game. be honest with yourself." amara giggles cause an instant ease in theo, knowing that for all his mother's losses, what she said is true. she's undefeated on rainbow road. but when her gaze rises to meet silas, she understands how that final comment sounded. it's something that was said at another time, with a far heavier connotation. dark hues plead with him, in a flash, to stay level.

as if the universe knew what might be coming, theo's teacher calls the children to get ready to head out on the final portion of their field trip, telling the once couple they've got about five more minutes to themselves. the second after theo heads off and is out of ear shot, amara turns back and prays they aren't headed for another spat. "i wasn't trying to-" the words die in her throat. what is she trying to do, exactly? what is she feeling? this is not a moment in which she wants silas to feel bad. she never wants him to feel bad. amara starts to put the rest of her small lunch away, staying quiet as she does so; breathing slowly and carefully as something sharp cuts through the jumbled mess of her mind. "i hate that it's like this," she admits before having a chance to stop herself. more than that, she hates that it ever got like this to begin with. she rises and takes her unfinished lunch along with her before he can respond; rejoining their son and the rest of theo's class so she can't say anything else that could cause an issue.

[awrote]

today is starting to feel taxing and it makes silas feel terrible. spending more hours with his son should bring joy and it does but he also feels uneasy. pulling the weight of his armor and devising comebacks as though he was a less developed version of himself from years ago. a challenge that he needs to face sooner than later. things won't go back to the way they used to be and it's time to reach the stage of acceptance in his journey of grieving a failed marriage.

"oh, i'm not busy at all." he sniffs after pulling away from his thoughts and lifting a shoulder in a shrug, "i freed up my schedule for the entire day for this excursion." running against time during a field trip would not only add to the stress but it's also a jerk move to rush an entire group of children or dip out in the middle of the day to go to work. silas is the director at the science center and practically runs it so he's going to demonstrate just how much sway he has. "i'm in." lips stretch into a soft smile as he looks at his son then shift for a second in amara's direction.

theo bounces his leg underneath the table, a clear indication that his son is pleased and despite the awkwardness that awaits them tonight, silas feels a rush of secondhand happiness. both he and their son let out an exaggerated groan in unison as his ex-wife declares that they will not be racing on rainbow road. the blond aims a sneer at the brunette from across the table, he sticks a hand into his bag of cheetos. "why? are you afraid of getting your as- butt kicked?" using a puffed corn snack to point at her, "hmm?"

at her son's request, there's an immediate sense for amara to reject the idea. she and silas still need space, they have to set up systems. she didn't want theo getting his hopes up. but even with those thoughts, her heart says the opposite. there would be plenty of time where they'd be separated. maybe having positive moments together when they came together organically would be a good thing. it would help build the healthy future amara and silas both want for their family.

amara brushes her fingers against a tiny ringlet of theo's dark hair, aching at what it reminds her of: her sweet baby, that head full of curls that came from silas; and then by association, silas' curly hair. a rare sight unless they were somewhere warm and humid, and his hair was long enough to draw them out. theo was a mini version of her but the similarities he shares with his father are all the reasons she loved him the most. like how they smile. it always starts slyly, like they both need to be coy about the fact that one's coming. rarely ever showing teeth like she or iliana do. "i think we could do that, if your dad's not too busy," she adds. just in case silas doesn't want to have dinner with his ex-wife.

not a tooth is revealed to his parents but the smile is big. bigger than amara has seen in months. it's the right choice to make, and no matter how heartbreaking it is to sit across from silas and not affectionately return that brush of his knee, amara's strong enough to stay the course. their children's happiness is worth fighting through every internal conflict she has till the end of time.

"and… can dad come back home with us and play mario kart?" amara tries to keep her breathing steady, taking a slow inhale that ends with a smile of her own. "yes," she starts. "but only if you don't complain when your sister asks to play." theo rolls his eyes but gives in to his mom's request by extending his pinky towards her. "i promise i won't complain at all. i'll be good." they shake on it before amara leans forward to kiss the side of her son's temple, looking between theo and silas as she notes a final stipulation, "and no rainbow road. if dad comes over, it's for fun."

[awrote]

"it's perfect." and charlie means it. after falling asleep in the dirt with only a bunched up coat as a makeshift pillow, this is a luxury. in another life, he had slept on a comfortable mattress underneath warm comforters and an array of pillows cushioning his head. if things had gone differently, what would life be like right now?definitely married, a father of maybe one or two kids who ran a factory. bea's touch pulls him away from his thoughts, right where he needs to be.

"are you pokin' fun?" a chortle falls from his lips, their eyes meet when her fingers slip through the buttons of his shirt. warmth spreads along his chest whilst tracing lines and circles along her back. when she mounts him, a hungry spark catches on his cerulean hues. fingers tangle in her dark tresses, pulling her closer and forgetting about any need of oxygen. his hips rock forward, begging for more friction. "bea." her whispers her name one, two, three times. before he remembers that they shouldn't cross that line, she moves off him and stops. chest rises and falls as he breathes heavily, staring up at the stars to gather himself.

he turns his head and eyes to her, turning to lay on his side facing her. "neither have i." charlie confesses quietly, "i'm always leavin' and never lookin' back." he reaches a hand to caress her face, "but i'll keep lookin' back. at you. at this night. the kindness and hospitality you showed us. how you punched the lights out of that guy at the bar. your singin' and the way ya' called me out in front of the crowd. we'll have more drinks together, if only in my mind." a watery smile parts his lips as he moves in closer to kiss her again, deeply and tenderly. enveloping her tightly between his arms, "let me make ya' feel good... please." he rasps into her mouth, running a hand up her thigh.

"what a silly question," she replies, unwilling to let him go now that he's asked. bea moves away and back closer to the screen door that lead into her home. "help me pick up that couch." they move into the room quietly, careful not to disturb bea's sister or mother. "it's a fold out," she notes, proud of the fact that they owned such a thing in these times. once the pair was back on the covered porch with everything settled, bea gestures for charlie to lay down first. she runs inside to grab a blanket that'll keep them covered. it was early summer and barely cool, but just in case a chill set over the land, she didn't want them spendin' the night shivering. waking up with a sickness would make charlie's travels miserable.

she kicks the small lever on the right side, its springs kicking to life as it expands. "fancy, innit?" but then she crawls on, careful to move with intent until she's nestled into charlie's side. "now you'll be able to hear the rooster crow," bea teases. her fingers slip within the buttons of the shirt he's wearing, a purposeful touch as she speaks softly, "but no one can hear us." she turns her head just enough to reach the under side of his jaw, wanting to press her lips to the skin there; using her free hand to push her up and over top of him. they kiss once again, languid and more passionate than their last. like melting gold the heat careens between them with force, especially in the knowing that their time together is short. but beatrice heard charlie's feelings, he said them gently, respectfully. it was between the lines. and so she heeds his preference and rolls herself off him, taking deep breaths in the silence of the dark.

"you'll be gone tomorrow," she whispers to no one. except herself, maybe. a reminder. stop while you're ahead, girl. he's trying to make this easier. "i haven't felt this disappointed in quite some time. i forgot what it's like to miss someone... and you haven't even left yet."

[awrote]

there's nothing to do but brush that minor slip up aside and take a extra long chug from his coke. a hand swipes away at the corner of his lips, settling the bottle back on the table. a brow raises inquisitively in reaction to amara's coy grin. he looks her in the eye before rolling his as she muses about the illusion making him appear miniscule. "hmph, predictable." the blond mutters under his breath before popping another cheeto into his mouth. however, the expression on his face changes when her teasing turns into a reminiscing.

it tickled him then how her feet had dangled from the edge of the bed, demanding that she take her topic back after swiping it unashamedly the week before. then other times, further in their relationship when they first moved in together and couldn't keep their hands off each other. the lines that had formed between his brows smooth out as those memories cross his mind.

as he shifts in his seat, a leg accidentally brushes against hers and the contact sends a jolt of electricity throughout his body. bright hues find hers briefly before pulling back and turning to sit sideways. his torso turned awkward to face both theo and amara to avoid any accidents underneath the table that might send the wrong message. no, the message is right but it's humiliating to still want your ex-wife after divorcing. have some self-respect, for god's sake.

lips stretch into a soft, genuine smile. he missed this. spending time as a family. iliana is back at the school and probably seething with jealousy that her brother got to spend the day with their parents. "someday you'll be as tall as me, t and you'll be able to help your mother reach the counter." silas turns to his ex-wife and offers a cheeky smile. theo laughs then settles with a look of determination, "i got you, mom." he nods in solidarity. always team mom. while it should have bothered him, it doesn't. he loves that about their son and hopes that never changes. small hands fall on the table, folding as if to propose a business deal, "now that we're all here, can we go out tonight as a family?" they would have to go back to the school and it would be easy to just pick iliana up and go anywhere their hearts desired. just like old times.

the near slip up snags in silas' throat, but not before amara catches it. how is it that they both have these moments in which it's as if nothing has changed? normally when you divorce someone, there's no reverting back to anything. people can't wait to get out and stay away. but even in having those thoughts, amara still can't imagine a time in which silas wouldn't be there. would that change as their children grew? would theo and iliana reach eighteen and split their world enough to sever amara and silas' relationship completely? it's enough to cause a burning in her eyes, though emotion doesn't swell. she made a promise: there will be no issues today.

"hmm, let me think," she ponders before tapping her index finger to her chin. "i liked the room where everything was oversized." amara's gaze shifts to silas, a sly grin forming. "it was nice to see your dad look small." before her ex-husband could read too much into the comment, she continues, "he used to tease me about not being able to reach things, about being so tiny." amara thought back on her first dorm room, on silas barging in and demanding she take a paper topic back that he had stolen from her. he watched her struggled to reach a box where she kept all of her teas but only once they were together did he joke about how badly she'd organized things for her height. when she'd asked how long he'd been holding that judgement in, the reply felt obvious. since the beginning, obviously. but he liked watching her stretch up onto her tip-toes and how her cute little bum would peak out from beneath her pajama bottoms. their love had been so simple back then.

theo perks at the trip down memory lane, beaming between his parents because he thinks it's a good sign; that if silas and amara talk about all their good times, they can somehow get back to them. "you're still tiny, mom," he says with a playful bump of their shoulders. "since dad moved out you've used the step ladder way more than you used to. so, i think he was on to something." amara blinks, laughing at the fact that he's noticed how often she's had to use it to reach something. their son had long ago reached the age of catching things neither of his parents thought he would; becoming his own little person.

[awrote]

cerulean optics take in bea's reaction, part of her face eclipsed by the shadows. arms remain tight around her waist, keep them as a close as physically possible. a grin parts charlie's lips at the singer's insistence and a part of him doesn't hate the sound of that. he's watched her sing for two nights in a row, and only until tonight did they have a chance to cordially meet. love at first sight. was this what the poets wrote about? he kisses her back, committing the softness of her lips to memory. once they pull apart, his forehead rests against hers, even her giggles sound like a sweet melody. "one night wouldn't be enough for me." he breathes, brushing his thumbs along her cheekbones before planting a kiss on her forehead.

"that's a shame." a frown turns his lips down, "he missed out on two great daughters. his loss." charlie grins softly in attempt to lighten up the mood. although he does mean what he says. if a child ever sprung up somewhere, he wouldn't abandon them. "honorable outlaws. well ain't that contradicting?" a quiet laugh escapes him, smiling widely and turning his head up to look at the sky. eyes close as bea traces her fingers along his palms. "early in the mornin'." he turns his head down to look at her, the corner of his lips curls into a faint smile. "we have to leave town as soon as th' rooster crows." he looks to the barn where a muffled sound of laughter and yelling can be heard. "can i stay with you?" gaze turns down to their hands, bringing hers to his lips and smiling softly.

a heavy sigh falls from her lips at charlie's response. though it's warranted, it still stings. if only she could be enough to stick around for. but then again, that's silly. they've only just met. they hardly know each other. "if i say i don't, will that make a difference? if i say it's a great idea." her fingers tug his chin down to meet her lips again, silencing their rational thoughts for a moment longer. when bea lets go, it's with quiet giggles. "you might be the most respectful traveler this town has ever seen. when women put themselves in a man's path, there's hardly ever rejection." she smiles up at him, "i'm tryin' not to take it personally." because beatrice knows, deep down, that it's not. he wouldn't be kissing her if there wasn't something between them. he's just trying to be kind to her heart.

"my father wasn't as strong, luci's either." silence settles again, cut by the sadness of the statement, the boisterous discussions in the barn down the way. charlie's people seemed to be enjoying their accommodations at least. she pats her hand to his chest, trying to force her needs back into the small caverns of her body they're used to being shoved into. "just goes to show you that not all outlaws are bad. some of them are damn near honorable. who woulda thunk it?" bea teases, rubbing her fingers against the calluses of charlie's palms. "do you leave early in the morning, or will i be able to see you one last time?"

[awrote]

a placid smile curls on silas' lips in reaction to amara's eyeroll. such a skill is developed from being the middle child and babysitting maisie for harmonia because she was either too cheap to hire a nanny or had trust issues. he found that dealing with children is easy if you pretend to be interested in what they have to say. which isn't a far cry to how he handles adults. although they're less easy to convince you care because of their cynical nature. garnering information and knowing someone's weakness isn't interest. it's merely tact. he only reserves his undivided attention to people he cares about but after the divorce, that's a mistake he won't make again. to carry someone's secrets and being the only one who knows things that no one else does and never once think to use it against them, it wasn't like him and thus there's no denying that it's love.

amara's smug expression after one of the children acts as peacemaker to ward the others from pushing and shoving to step into one of the exhibits inspires a spiritless expression to fall over his features. it doesn't stop there, however. he mocks the kid's high pitched voice under his breath, arms crossed and head bobbing side to side. what a little narc.

to make matters worse, he notices that theo tends to gravitate more towards his mother. which is fine. she's his mother, after all. does it make him a little jealous? of course. but instead of making a big show out of it and break his promise to his son, the blond simply brushes it off with a smile. everything is fine and dandy! he takes out a bag of cheetos and a diet coke, for balance of course. green eyes peer over to amara's more conscious and legitimately balanced lunch before dragging away to theo as he comes to join them and breaks the silence.

my marriage. he thinks to himself as he pops a cheeto into his mouth. "the vortex room was fun." silas answers, dusting off his fingers before resting his arms on the table. "it's a good thing we didn't go in there before lunch, i'd hate to be witness to that disaster if any of these kids get motion sickness." he offers a cheeky smile before turning to look at amara to engage her in the conversation so theo can see that he's serious about not ruining this day for him. "what about you, hon- amara." honey. in his defense, they've only been divorced for a month.

a heavy roll of her eyes is the only response she deigns to give. of course he didn't know the child's name. that's the way silas moves through the world - barely giving the time of day or a care to anyone and yet he's adored. amara's charm usually came from playing hard to get, from being mysterious and aloof, and then becoming the most interested in whomever or whatever she was doing. but that didn't work so well with kids. they wanted you to engage from the onset. if there's a positive to be taken from silas' backhanded comment, it's that it rights amara into not caring as much about who theo's classmates might like more; and she has no desire to be a pta all-star.

as the class continues to move through each room of the museum, taking turns with who gets to interact with each display of illusion, amara finds her footing. when kids complain they haven't gotten a chance to engage with something, she's quick to help diffuse the tension. to the point that another classmate of theo's chides, "guys, we don't have to fight about it! mrs. stavros is making sure we all get a turn." amara nods with a smile of encouragement, hoping no one caught the shiver she had when she was called mrs. stavros. that's who she still feels like, in a lot of ways. though the farther out from the divorce she gets, the more returning to her maiden name appeals.

a bundle of kids surrounds both she and silas as they walk from exhibit to exhibit, with theo sticking closer to his mother. a fact that keeps amara's ego plenty high. silas may be accustomed to beating her in a multitude of categories but the fact that their son still has a preference is enough to silence him nine times out of ten. when lunch time comes, they're both split in making sure everyone is taken care of and not choking on a stack of pringles or half a piece of oreo that didn't go down the right way. after theo's teacher wolfs down her food at an impressive speed, silas and amara get a chance to sit. it's then that theo leaves his friends in favor of sitting with his parents for the remainder of lunch. "what's been your favorite illusion, dad?" he asks, eating from amara's container of grapes.