elianasaintmleux

[elianasaintmleux]

Something Eliana knew all about was how life could throw curveballs into any plans you might've set out for yourself. Which was why, after years of coming up against it, the redheaded leaned into the chaos as the natural order. One thing that had always been certain about living and evolution was mutation. Her only wish now was that she hadn't fought against it so much when she had been in her twenties. It would've saved her so much energy and her sanity at times.

"Wonderfully Scandinavian," she commented with a smile, "I've actually always felt more aligned with your culture than the American that I am." A chuckle, then Ellie tacked on, "in theory at least." The first trip she'd ever taken outside of the United States as a reward for her bachelor's degree was to Norway. To this day she still thinks of it fondly and often.

It stirred something inside of her when he mentioned the hospital. After she'd earned her MD, that was where she had done her residency. "Ten years... must be a good fit if you've spent a decade there now. I spent about four years there until my residency was complete and I went into private practice. What's your specialty?"

Curiosity bloomed and it was nice to get acquainted with someone within the realm as a medical professional. "I feel like you've settled in a good place. Oregon and even Washington likely help you feel not too far away from home... the landscapes can feel familiar." And the people were much nicer than just about anywhere else, just a bit more social.

A laugh easily came at the mention of having spare glasses spread throughout town, in case of need at his favorite spots. Not a half bad idea if he could get everyone on board. "You should try making the font bigger," the redhead suggested, "it was one of the more humbling experiences I've had to date when it came to being confronted with getting older but it's definitely saved me a lot of headaches and wrinkles from squinting."

With her books in hand, Eliana took the offered seat when Søren cleared the space and invited her to join him. She set them down on the table and then her shoulder bag in the chair next to her. "Ooof that's so brave of you," she joked, "taking a flight of stairs up to the loft without an oxygen tank." There was a wide grin on her face, she was happy to find some solidarity in this. Sometimes her patients in the seat across from her would fold themselves into odd positions and it frustrated her because she'd need Tylenol after such a thing. "But that's really kind of you, thank you, and for the record... I never would've guessed you were fifty. You don't look a day over forty." And she meant that. "I think it's more so just feeling older than I look. I've had at least a few lives by now, you know?"

windsor  bay  hadn’t  always  been  the  plan,  but  when  did  life  ever  respect  the  path  that  had  been  meticulously  laid  out ?  the  holmströms  had  meant  to  stay  in  sweden  —  to  raise  their  daughter,  to  watch  her  bloom  and  maybe,  one  day,  bring  them  some  grandchildren  to  dote  on  just  as  much  as  they  doted  on  her.  instead,  america  had  called  them  —  and  although  the  adjustment  had  been  harsh,  they  knew  that  it  had  been  the  right  decision.  for  everyone. flourishing  careers  for  himself  and  his  wife.  a  childhood  for  signe  where  opportunities  were  almost  thrown  in  her  direction.  parenting  was  all  about  sacrifice,  and  although  the  summers  required  soren  to  douse  himself  in  factor  50  sunscreen  it  was  a  small  price  to  pay.  his  little  girl  was  all  grown  up.  his  little  girl  had  the  world  at  her  feet,  if  she  wanted  to  take  it. “ah,  you  caught  me,”  soren  smirked  and  raised  both  hands  as  if  he’d  been  caught  stealing,  “it’s  complicated.  my  father  is  swedish,  my  mother  is  danish  …  i  have  a  danish  first  name  and  a  swedish  last  name  which  confuses  everyone  when  i  try  and  fill  in  forms.  we  settled  in  malmö,”  with  its  beautiful  steel - blue  waters,  “much  bigger  than  here.  i  got  an  offer  to  work  at  the  hospital here  a  decade  ago  and  i  suppose  we  never  really  looked  back.” he  could  speak  about  his  family  and  home  until  he  ran  out  of  breath.  it  was  a  running  joke  between  his  wife  and  daughter  —  to  see  how  long  it  took  soren  to  mention  sigrid,  signe,  denmark  or  sweden  in  a  sentence.  he  rarely  lasted  more  than  a  minute.  “spare  glasses,”  he  tapped  the  side  of  his  nose  knowingly,  “i’ll  remember  that  one.  i  think  i’ll  need  at  least  five  pairs  dotted  around  windsor  bay  so  that  i  don’t  lose  them.  i  forget  how  bad  my  eyesight  really  is,  then  i  try  and  look  this  screen  and  …  well  …  it’s  just  blur.”  he  chuckled  and  moved  his  laptop  bag  off  of  the  seat  opposite  him,  gesturing  for  the  other  to  sit.  “i  don’t  believe  that  you’re  even  close  to  the  wrong  side  of  fifty.  i  think  you’re  being  very  harsh  on  that  one.  but  you’re  right,  middle  age  is  a  whirlwind.  i  miss  the  days  where  i  could  go  up  into  the  loft  and  not  need  three  days  to  recover  afterwards.”

[elianasaintmleux]

"The phone store," she echoed, tone gently mocking but only meant playfully, "you're making us sound incredibly old, honey." Thanks to some of her patients in their twenties and early thirties Eliana had some decent exposure to the younger generation and perhaps didn't feel the gap as much as Nic had inadvertently proposed. Her hand had even extended out and covered his while she displayed a genuine smile. Expressions really only shared with him. "You do realize that the home button version you're using is about eight generations ago, right?" Truthfully she didn't care what kind of device Nic used as long as she had a way to communicate with him an reach him.

For a moment Ellie sat with her coffee, she'd yet to remove her hand from his, and thought about how Nic had to be feeling with the influx of promising work that came along with partnering with an architectural firm. He liked to feel useful, as did most people, she thought. But even more, as they got older, maybe he needed it a little more now than ever.

"That's the problem," she commented, then sipped the cooling diner coffee and set it back down, "you trust too easily." Or, maybe, the redhead was just far too guarded. Tragically she knew a thing or two about deception. Between her father, the man that treated her like a princess versus the horrific things he'd done to girls her age, and the one time she'd let someone put a ring on it... Eliana was wary of everyone. Except for Nic. The trust between them had been earned over decades.

They fell into a quiet reverie for an undefined stretch of time. It was the most comforting thing in the world to be able to spend such quality time with someone even in the silence. Talking and filling the space wasn't always necessary, the presence of someone you cared about and trusted was often more than enough. There was likely nothing she was more grateful in her life than being able to share this kind of connection with Nic.

"It's just one night so don't go spending too much on something you'll never use again," she half grinned and winked at her longtime something more than a best friend. Eliana nearly followed that up with a joke about unless he was planning to meet her at the altar one day but had caught herself and thought better of it. Their relationship hadn't been without complications over the years, it was just that their longevity had seemed to come by way of not labeling it. Or, that was her assumption.

Wondering what he was thinking and now seeming to plan on the spot Ellie's brow wrinkled. "Please don't get a limo or something like that. Let's spend the money on a hotel room or something like that. We can spoil ourselves for a night, enjoy bathrobes and room service." There hadn't been a thought of that until that moment and now that it was out there Ellie realized how much she wanted it. "You know what... plan on it. I'll book us a nice room." Then, with a smirk, "after you dance your ass off at the prom you can soak in a nice big jacuzzi bath with me."

the carpenter nodded, confirming what she'd echoed in a way he wanted to study. if she wanted, when she wanted, he'd answer. it was how things had been for nearly an entire twenty years now and it was how things would continue. it wasn't always up to her though, the man having swallowed his own fears of being a burden over the years in exchange for her company, something that she'd made easier for him.

"i got rid of that thing a couple of years ago," he countered, as if the phone he had now was something to brag about. it was old, but it had a touch screen and that was an upgrade within itself. "i tried that a couple of times. damn thing never gets it right," he huffed, brows pinching together as if he couldn't understand how anyone could get it right. "guy at the phone store keeps telling me it's time to get something newer. he said he hasn't seen an iphone with a home button since he was a kid."

praise from the redhead always weighed on him differently. a sense of pride washed over him like he'd just won something big and in a way, he had. "i trust that they won't, but i'm keepin' my eye out." while he didn't know much about those interested in using him for future projects, he did know the woman who'd set it all up and nic had found her to be trustworthy. "no, no it ain't," he grinned, with a shake of his head. his back, metal rods and all, had it's moments. some projects were easier than others were, but he never failed to pay the price the morning after a hard day's work.

nic felt the air shift between them, the playful banter exchanged now replaced with something weighted, something more than the few words she spoke. and yet, he knew exactly what she meant, knew how much time had tethered them. he knew that there wasn't a world where she wasn't somewhere in it, a phone call or a text away. he met her gaze with a slow and steady nod, as if confirming that he knew what danced on the tip of her tongue, heavy and unspoken.

he welcomed the silence that stretched between them as his fingertips brushed against the warmth of the ceramic mug half filled with his favorite bitter blend. was she thinking about the years that stretched between them too? the ups, the downs and everything in between?

her voice anchored him to the moment and color settled at his cheeks. he wasn't the kind of man fit for tailored clothing or shoes without scuff marks, but for her, he'd be just that for one night. "oh yeah? well, i guess it's settled. i think i'll have to go shoppin' today." he didn't know a thing about what paired well with what or what colors matched the best with one another, but he'd figure it out or drive the store's clerk crazy trying.

the male's tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. another fair point made by the woman who clearly knew more than he did. "how about i meet you at your place and we can take your car," he offered, though a part of him wanted to go a step beyond that. after a beat, he corrected himself. "i'll take care of how we get there." it was nothing that google couldn't assist with, given that he could get the damn thing to work.

[elianasaintmleux]

"If I ever want..." A small laugh filled the space between them, nearly it's own retort in retaliation to Nic's comment... saying maybe I always want to, but I know better. Eliana shut her eyes for a long few seconds and took a gentle breather, it was a moment to not let her thoughts win out nor to fall into her feelings. All these years she'd most remained rational and now wasn't the time to let that fall apart. "You're ready to upgrade from that flip phone," she teased, brow raising in question. "You could always enable that disastrous talk to text feature. That could be a fun game for us."

As she listened, sipped her coffee, Eliana contemplated his move to align himself with a firm. "It sounds great, Nic. Just watch yourself and make sure they don't take advantage of you." Bigger companies had a tendency to do that. "Though, I'm not opposed to you getting paid for you hard work. You and your back are not a charity."

Genuinely, the expression on her face displayed that she was happy for the level up. But this was Nic, her person for the last twenty years, she was protective and wanted nothing short of the best for him.

"Good," she responded with an accepting nod. It comforted her, and she rarely asked for confirmation of things between them, but Eliana was human and sometimes needed that reassurance. "You're the one person..." I can't afford to lost? Was that the finish, or was it something deeper? Instead, the redhead smiled, still too worried about the loss if she opened up her heart too completely. Her past still affected her present.

As she watched Patty saunter off to put in their orders she wondered what the woman thought of her and Nic. All these years. It was impossible for her to resist wanting to pick people's brains and know what was going on behind their eyes. But at one point Ellie was sure that Patty had thought she and Nic were having an affair, and now... she was curious if the woman thought the same. Maybe they were having the longest affair ever since they were always on the sidelines of each other's lives.

"You can wear whatever you want, but I... I'm gonna put on a nice dress. You've never seen this before." It amused her actually because he was the one person who had seen literally every side of her. Dressed up for work or an event to waking up the next morning a mess and with stanky morning breath. "Oh, I bet you did," she grinned and waggled her brow at him enjoying the afterparty. To her memory most kids went and got hotel rooms. "In your truck? You expect me to climb up into that in a sexy dress?"

"i'm just sayin' you know how to get ahold of me if you ever want." it was easy to follow the curve of her mouth upwards, to drink up every word that rolled so smoothly off her tongue. he felt a familiar heat licking up the back of his neck and causing color to rise in his cheeks. "i might have to go and get a new phone if that's the plan." he offered a low, quiet laugh of amusement to settle between them, rather the weight of swirling thoughts and what-ifs that filled his head.

she knew him better than anyone. he supposed it came with the twenty years of back and forth they'd done, all those late nights and early morning truths tethering them together beyond what the eye could see.

another huff of light air fell off his lips, his smile growing to match hers. "i don't know about that." was it good work? consistent and well-paid? sure, but he was far from becoming anything other than a busy man. "more work, better pay on bigger projects. means i'll have to cut back on the friendly favors for a little." he'd finish the commitments he'd already made and if anyone really needed something from him, he'd make time.

you promise?

his heart knocked against his ribcage, strong and anything but steady as he held her gaze. "i promise." he couldn't remember a time he'd meant something more than he did those two simple words. maybe they'd never figure things out, maybe they'd never label what brewed between them, but what he knew for certain was that he'd never forget her.

patty's untamed wit made the air at the booth feel lighter. nic gave an eye roll towards the redhead's comment and faced both women with a smile that felt permanent in their company. he flashed ellie a look of surprise when she ordered something different and gave a nod towards patty when the waitress finally made her leave.

her question, so easily spoken, left him with a boyish grin hanging crookedly off his mouth. "does that mean i have to wear a suit?" it'd be a feat to get him out of worn jeans and scuffed boots, but he'd do it for her. "i never went to prom either. went to the after party though," he added teasingly, darkened gaze full of life at the idea of giving back to the woman who'd given him so much. "i'll pick you up then? if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right."

[elianasaintmleux]

The more she heard him speak the clearer she heard his accent, and Eliana was rather proud of herself for thinking Scandinavian just before he'd mentioned thinking in Swedish. She ran the risk right there of completely tuning him out as she wondered what had brought him from such a lovely place all the way to this small town.

Sometimes... when Ellie thought back to her family's escape from Washington, she wished they had gone a lot further. Maybe to a place like Sweden.

"I have a pair, well, two pairs of glasses as well. One in each office... my office downtown and my home office. I generally only need them when my eyes get tired." A little frown briefly crumpled her brow, but she soon offered a soft smile. It wasn't regrettable that she'd made it to this point in life. Sometimes she'd found herself amazed she'd kept it together this long. "Which is something that's happening more and more the older I get. Or maybe it's the growth of technology..." And how there was no real way to separate from it anymore.

"So, yeah..." Eliana bounced a thoughtful finger in his direction, a smile forming on her lips. "I thought I'd detected an accent. I'm always curious what draws foreigners to small towns rather than the big cities. Are you from a small town in Sweden?"

A moment later, still working on not getting lost in her own thoughts, she waved off his gratitude in a friendly manner. "Please... I don't think you're much older than me. We need to support each other. Middle age isn't for the week apparently. I never thought I would've had to be careful about falling asleep on the couch and yet... here we are. Sore back."

there  were  many  parts  to  getting  older  that  søren  cherished.  two  decades  ago,  he  wasn’t  sure  whether  he  would  ever  make  it  long  enough  to  see  grey  hairs  on  his  head,  to  watch  his  daughter  grow  up.  it  was  a  privilege  to  still  be  as  deeply  in  love  as  he  was,  to  be  able  to  spend  his  later  years  in  paradise  beside  his  wife  …  but  just  like  a  child,  he  was  back  to  needing  support  just  to  handle  the  simplest  things  ;  asking  his  daughter  to  set  up  an  instagram,  and  relying  on  strangers  for  his  medical  write - ups. “i  have  a  few  more  pages,”  sighed  the  doctor  as  he  sat  back  in  his  chair  and  settled  his  gaze  on  the  other.  “my  wife  always  tells  me  not  to  leave  my  glasses  at  home,  and  what  do  i  go  and  do ?  i  know  exactly  where  they  are,  too.”  on  the  bedside  table,  right  where  he  always  left  them.  a  place  he  had  specifically  chosen  so  that  he  wouldn’t  leave  them  behind. “but  it’s  never  all  that  easy  when  your  head  thinks  in  swedish  but  your  hands  are  typing  in  english.”  he  was  fluent  in  both  —  and  danish,  and  poor  conversational  mandarin  that  he  had  attempted  to  learn  on  multiple  occasions.  he  was  only  just  starting  to  understand  his  wife’s  exasperated  mutterings.  “ten  years  in  america.  you’d  think  i  would  have  got  the  hang  of  it  by  now ! ”  but  in  his  family’s  little  scandinavian echo chamber  it  was  all  too  easy  to  forget  how  many  miles  from  home  they  truly  were.  søren  still  missed  those  bitter  winters,  the  snow  whipping  his  cheeks  and  turning  them  a  sore  pink.  most  of  all,  he  missed  the  promise  of  a  slow  life  now  that  he  was  entering  into  the  later  chapter  of  his  own.  “thank  you  for  taking  some  time  to  help  an  old  man  in  need.  not  everyone  would.”

[elianasaintmleux]

With a massive to be read pile at home judging her for even browsing the store, Eliana certainly didn't need to be here. Keeping abreast with latest releases wasn't her thing either, she didn't necessarily have the time, but she couldn't resist when she wanted to pass a little time.

Beautiful, intriguing covers always nabbed her attention. And then if the plot intrigued her enough it was collected into her arm for purchase. Likely only to be forgotten once it was at home and with it's new very neglected mates.

By the sounds of the typing he was a hunt and peck method, and Ellie had no judgements, not everyone was technologically inclined. She was truly trying to mind her own business when his gentle interruption broke the bookstore quiet, and the raise of his hand curled her lips into a smile. Something instinctual almost pointed at him like a teacher but thankfully Ellie harnessed that before she made an asshole of herself.

When she walked over and peered slightly over his shoulder at where he was pointing, "oh, that's a Z. If you're wanting the S go one row up." Her finger pointed to indicate. "Do you have a lot to type up? Might want to give your eyes a break. I know mine give me trouble if I'm looking at a screen for too long."

「  ✱  」  STATUS ﹕ open  . 

「  ✱  」  LOCATION ﹕ the book nook  . 

「  ✱  」  WITH ﹕ open ( @windsorbaystarters )

it  was  a  peaceful  place  to  work  when  his  own  study  grew  stale.  one  of  the  comfortable  little  reading  chairs  in  the  back   corner  of  the   book nook  was  søren’s  office  for  the  afternoon,  tapping  slowly  on  the  laptop  that  he  had  never  quite  learned  how  to  properly  use.  it  blew  his  mind  listening  to  his  daughter  type  sometimes,  her  fingers  dancing  across  the  keys  at  rocket  speed,  when  he  needed  to  squint  to  properly  discern  which  keys  corresponded  to   which  letters.  it  made  writing  up  his  clinic  letters  all  the  more  difficult.  “excuse  me,”  he  offered  a  kind  smile  to  the  person  closest  to  him,  raising  his  hand  as  though  asking for  the  cheque  in  a  restaurant,  “can  you  just  …  this  might  sound  ridiculous  …  is  this  an  S  or  a  Z  ?  ”

[elianasaintmleux]

"Are you saying I don't call you enough?" A brow arched, then slowly so did a corner of her mouth in some kind of amusement. "Should we text like we're young and dumb enough to still believe in love?" Even though she were teasing, it felt as though there were some weight to that. Not Eliana's complicated feelings with the man across from her, but that maybe they'd had it right all this time. They offered each other emotional and physical fulfillment and in an undefined connection they had plenty of room to still do their own thing.

A smile easily tugged at her lips to hear his good news of success, and her head nodded in a happy acceptance of what had kept Nic busy lately. "A firm, huh? You're gonna become too much of a hot shot for me," she teased, then soon quieted at his claim. At first Ellie didn't respond to it. "What'd they say? Does that mean more work for you then?"

Despite his steady, unwavering gaze she hadn't been able to hold it. Instead her eyes shifted around a little. Something about the statement made her uncomfortable, and not because it was bad. Nothing like that. But maybe there was a slight fear somewhere in the back of her mind. "You promise?" Eliana finally asked, and just before Patty came back around.

With the waitress standing there, not taking a single note down, she knew them too well at this point, Ellie smiled up at her like an old friend. "Shh shh," the redhead silenced Nic as her expression transformed into a grin, her hand reached out and grasped his with a squeeze, "let the women talk." To which, Eliana had responded to Patty by calling Nic an old goat. "I'm gonna do something different and get the club sandwich," she finally ordered and witnessed Patty sass away.

"Wanna be my date to prom?" Her fingers looped into a mug of coffee and she had a bit of a silly look on her face. It was the oddity of asking such a thing into her forties. "I never actually went to prom here back in the day. Better late than never, right?"

her teasing jest pulled a low laugh from his chest, deep, raspy, and full of the same amusement that was etched into his features. "i wash it down with a little bit of whiskey every morning," he countered, eyes fluttering closed for a few seconds as he savored her lips on his skin and her frame pressed into his. he sucked in a deep breath, her perfume filling his head, washing him like all the memories they shared did when he least expected it. he curled one arm loosely around her middle before they were parting ways and sinking into their respected sides of the familiar booth.

answers danced bitterly on his tongue — because you've finally grown tired of this back and forth, because you had better things to do. instead, he said nothing at all and offered a lazy lift of his shoulders, as if saying he couldn't give a reason good enough to mutter aloud.

"she tried," he admitted with a grin. the waitress had offered him a slice of pie on the house at least twice, claiming that she couldn't stand to see him sitting in her section without a plate in front of him. to her, coffee wasn't enough.

nic studied the pause in her answer, searched the silence as if there would be clues to the hesitation between her words. "i know." he gave a soft, understanding smile in her direction, the rest of the diner drowned out by her presence across from him. this was what they did best, wasn't it? her comment, joking enough, left his dark hues rolling harmlessly in response. forgotten about her? he couldn't do that even if he did ever want to try. some people just couldn't be forgotten and her? she was one of them.

"phone works both ways," he challenged, light and with a devious grin. she was a busy woman, important too. his excuses weren't nearly as grounded. "i've been helpin' out a few neighbors and some friends. i had a firm reach out and a client liked my work," he paused, pride blooming in his chest at the small victory, "but i haven't forgotten about you." his gaze locked onto hers as the affirmation rolled smoothly off his tongue.

after a beat, the clearing of a woman's throat pulled his attention from across the booth. "alright, patty. i'll take the usual." the waitress greeted ellie like usual, dropping a comment about nic and his inability to tell time and stubbornness. "hey now, i'm right here."

[elianasaintmleux]

THE CHARACTER.

FULL NAME: Eliana Saint Mleux

GENDER: Cis woman

PRONOUNS: She/her

AGE + BIRTHDAY: 44 + March 24, 1981

LENGTH OF TIME IN WINDSOR BAY: 32 years

HOUSING: Coral Coast

OCCUPATION: Psychiatrist

THE INTERVIEW.

What’s it like, living in Windsor Bay? Did you ever picture yourself settling down here or did you always know this would be your home?

"It's difficult to say," Eliana answered rather simply at first. "I think I always did know that I'd stay in Windsor Bay. After some bad things that had happened earlier in my life it became a sort of sanctuary for me." She shrugged. "How does anyone really describe home?" The answer was a cop out and she had no regrets about it. "It's my comfort zone that I'm not pressed about leaving."

If you could recommend one hidden gem around town everyone should try, what is it? What makes it so special?

As she considered the question Ellie sipped on her coffee, she hated when it was too hot but she hated it even more when it was too cold. "It's a toss up," the redhead finally offered, "Spotlight Cinema when they put the classics up on the big screen because that's the best way for those movies to be seen, or..." There was a pause as she considered the more important, first and foremost, answer. The cinema was only special at certain times, yet there was one place that never failed. "Sunrise Diner. I'm big on comfort food and I like being able to go in the middle of the night. Those sweet and savory pancakes always hit the spot when I need some quiet time to dull the buzz in my head."

Do you have any regrets? What are they?

A dry laugh nearly snorts out of her nose, then came the humorless smile followed by a shake of her head. "If someone says they don't have regrets, they're lying. Of course I have them. Plenty of them. I lost count a long time ago." Again, Ellie shook her head. "But why would I ever tell you that?" She knew she sounded guarded, it was habit. As a therapist, the deepest parts of her weren't supposed to be known. "I'll give you this one... I sometimes regret turning in my father. There's a little devil somewhere in the back of my mind that tests me, asks me... what if you were wrong?"

THE PERSONALITY.

— + Quiet, reticent, sarcastic — - avoidant, persevering, hard-headed

ELIANA IS PORTRAYED BY JESSICA CHASTIAN, AND WRITTEN BY SELINA.

[elianasaintmleux]

It had to have been nearly a month since she'd last seen and spent any time with Nic. That was the rollercoaster of their relationship, equally non-committal, while also feeling the missing limb when time carried on too long between connections. When he'd reached out it'd hit her then and guilt had swept over her. Sometimes Eliana burrowed too deep into the grind and her routines.

Of course there was another distraction, a father shaped one, that had the redhead feeling quite unlike herself lately.

When she walked into the diner Ellie breezed to the man that seemed to get a little slower with each time he tried to get up. "I hope you've added some joint supplements to your daily vitamin routine," she teased just after she kissed his cheek and gave the middle aged man a half hug with one arm. "Why would I do that?" Ellie asked, smiling yet there was a wrinkle in her brow. When had she ever changed her mind when it regarded Nic? "It's good to see you, too," the words came out as genuine as ever as she settled into the booth across from him.

"Sure," Eliana commented with a light chuckle, eyes taking in the half empty establishment and then focusing solely on him, "I know how the place gets. I'm surprised Patty hasn't been filling you up," she joked and briefly glanced at the waitress. "I've been," there was too long of a pause as she searched for exactly how to answer, her hands smoothing out the sides of her placemat, "ok. Just work, you know?" Sure, she broke out into random sweats sometimes, her body still craving those pills despite successful rehab quite a while back. There was also her father continuing his attempts to reach out to her to contend with. "Nothing drastic," like her father claiming his innocence with new appeals and his begging to have a conversation with her, "just the usual. How about you? Business must be really good. You've forgotten all about me..." There was no malice or accusation, but maybe a tinge of loneliness.

— eliana saint mleux, ; the crispy biscuit.

beads of sweat coated calloused palms as the carpenter waited for the redhead's arrival in the same booth they'd occupied together on and off for years. he'd shown up an entire half hour early, politely asking for more time each time the waitress dipped by to check in on the table, refilling his coffee mug the process. he'd managed to drain two cups so far, the bitter and bold blend heavy on his stomach.

how long had it been since they'd sat down together? weeks? a month? he'd pushed himself so far into work that he'd lost track of time. the cheerful ding at the entryway caused the man to lift his head, a smile tugging upwards at the corners of his mouth as the woman he'd set to meet closed the distance between them.

"i was startin' to think you'd changed your mind," he teased through a raspy exhale, a jolt of electric clawing up his spine as he stood from the booth, his bones cracking in rebellion. it wasn't her fault he'd shown up so goddamn early. "it's good to see you," he added, voice thick with the kind of sincerity forged by their years of the back and forth. "patty's been on me for the past half-hour. i'm pretty sure she would've thought i was makin' you up if she didn't know any better. i was in the area and figured i'd stop by a little early to grab a seat. you know how this place fills up."

he was rambling, a mix of nerves and caffeine to blame. after a beat, nic lowered himself back into his side of the booth, accompanied by more gentle cracks and a wave of relief the moment he settled. "so... how've you been?"

@elianasaintmleux

[elianasaintmleux]

[elianasaintmleux]

"You know," she began, it not lost on her that this young woman, too young for this, spoke with a knowing that reminded Ellie a lot of her younger self, "it's more like when fire gets so hot that it actually feels cold." Science called that a paradoxical cold, but the reality was that a too hot flame would sear the nerve endings shut and all that could be felt was cold. With her nail against the bottom rim of the glass of bourbon, the redhead mused to herself while the bartender had yet another correct assessment of her. It was strange to be the one sitting there being seen. Being perceived, as they say. Her nail rubbed back and forth against the cold surface, then her eyes lift to the woman in front of her. The second shot seemed to go down smoother than the first. "Wanna know a secret?" Of course the brunette did, they were already on the verge of a game. "Once guts are spilled they cannot be put back in. It's physically impossible. You usually have to cut away pieces and then sow ends together. You'll still live," her brow lifted, "maybe even be the better for it, but... it's the same for psychology."

While the young woman spilled, Eliana had slung her drink back, finally, and then held Bex's full attention. For some reason mommy dearest stories were more difficult for her to hear than about bad fathers. Maybe that had to do with whom was the evil one in her family. When Bex paused, smeared her finger through the wet circle like a final not crossing something out to give it some finality, Ellie nodded. Slowly at first, then it was almost enthusiastic. "What's your relationship like with her now?" There weren't any attempts to psychoanalyze her, that hadn't been the game, despite what had initially popped in her head. "Non-existent?" She was glad to hear that Bex liked her job. That made the grind of it easier, she thought. The nights would be colorful and she'd meet many fascinating people along the way. Some not so great. "Really?" Inconceivable had crinkled her brow. "People show the bar bones of themselves at a bar? And here I'd always thought the drunks just got belligerent and the rest just got more miserable." The shrug that decorate her shoulders was careless, showing no signs of judgement. Everybody had wounds to nurse.

"You're still very young," Ellie cut in, almost alarmed to hear this twenty-something talk as though her formative and prime years were behind her. "Love is never enough and never should be banked on for happiness, it's not something that completes you," the redhead said from experience, "it's a compliment and nothing more." The trick was to find someone that wanted to keep working with you. That was all. "You still have plenty of time to be someone. Who'd you dream of being when you were sixteen?" There was barely a breath before the bartender was ready to turn the focus on Eliana. But she didn't feel the seat warming beneath her. When you stared at your own father in a court room where his life was on the line, there was nothing after that that could make you squirm. "I've held the weight of someone's life, someone's future, in my hands. My words, my assessment," no, she actually wasn't speaking about clients, for probably less then a handful of times she was speaking, still cryptically, about her father, "have been the drop of the guillotine." If in that moment she looked spooked, haunted, then it was genuine. "It's easy to imagine, we've seen it in movies and in true crime documentaries, right? But it's very different when someone's soul is boring into you. When you can see the darkness in their stare but there's nothing but hope for salvation on their face." Ellie pushed her glass toward Bex, silently asking for a refill. "Condemning someone... someone who has been nothing but good to you and you have the knowledge that they did very bad things to others..." There was a tsk followed by a shake of her head.

The corner of Bex’s mouth twitched — not quite a smile, but close. That near-grin she gave when someone surprised her, which didn’t happen often enough to count on. She took the shot she’d been spinning like it owed her rent, let it hit the back of her throat and warm her bones before setting the glass down, slow and deliberate. Her knuckles pressed into the wood, steadying her. “You don’t bleed, huh?” she echoed, like she was trying the words on for size. Not mocking, just curious. “Yeah. I’ve met a few like you. Walk through fire with a goddamn poker face. Not ‘cause it doesn’t burn — just ‘cause the burn’s been there so long, you stopped checking for smoke.” She tilted her head, eyes flicking toward Eliana’s drink, then back. “And you talk like someone who’s seen enough guts spilled on the floor to know when to mop and when to walk away. So sure. Let’s play your little blood barter game.” A breath. Then another — not hesitation, just decision. And when Bex spoke again, her voice didn’t have that barked edge she used to keep people back. It was something quieter. Realer. “Alright. Here’s mine.” She traced a ring of condensation on the bar like it might anchor her. “I was sixteen when I realized the only time my mom looked at me with love in her eyes was when I was bleeding. Broken arm, split lip, whatever. She was cold stone the rest of the time, but if I was hurt?” Her thumb dragged through the wet circle, smearing it. “Suddenly I was hers again. It took me way too long to figure out I kept walking into wreckage just to feel seen.” Her gaze didn’t drop. If anything, it sharpened. Not like she was challenging Eliana — more like she was letting herself be seen under all the noise and armor. “And do I like my job?” she added, circling back like the thought had been marinating. “Yeah. I do. Most days.” She leaned back slightly, arms crossing over her chest. “There’s something honest about it, y’know? It’s loud and messy and chaotic, and no one expects you to be more than you are. People show up raw and wrecked and just… human. No masks, no bullshit.” She paused, jaw tight like she was working her way around something that didn’t come easy. “But do I ever wish it was more? Yeah. I do. I got married too young. Didn’t go to school, didn’t think I needed to. Thought love would be enough to build a life on.” A bitter laugh scraped out of her. “Turns out love without a plan is just a nice way to go broke and bitter.” Her fingers toyed with the edge of a coaster now, spinning it in slow circles. “By the time I realized I wanted more — wanted to be more — it felt like the road had already narrowed behind me. Like all the exits closed while I was busy trying to hold someone else’s world together.” Bex let that hang for a moment. Not heavy, just true. “But I make do,” she added, more grounded now. “This place, this job — it’s not nothing. It’s not what I dreamed about when I was sixteen and thought I’d be someone, but it’s something. And it’s mine.” Her eyes lifted again, steady, dark with something deeper than defiance. “Your move, red,” she said softly. “Let’s see what your version of equal looks like.”

[elianasaintmleux]

It was amazing the things people would tell their therapist. Not only were they bound by confidentiality, they also were desperate for someone with years of medical studies under their belt to tell them they were normal. That everyone had dark and obscure thoughts and ideas. Humanity was a daily task, something to be practiced daily when it came to morality — to be a responsible member of society. It was these things that drove Eliana to a dicey bar.

Well, that and coupling it with her own grim tales. There were things that couldn't be unseen. Seeing her father coming out of the woods with a shovel, that box of mementos she'd found in the back of her parents closet, and the look in his eyes as she sat and testified against him.

"All depends on what you're up against, huh?" Her fingers curled around her bourbon then, almost as though she were about to pick it up and sling it back. Only, the motion never transpired. "For some, it's just plucking at a stray thread. Others, it's performing the most complicated, delicate surgery with absolute precision." Bartenders didn't get paid enough. Even if she rarely spilled blood, she still tipped very well. They busted their asses on their feet the entire shift, dealt with drunkards, and took the toll of therapist all the hopes of a bonus that made it all worthwhile. "Most people want to talk. It's the judgement that stops them." Personally, she didn't really want to share her tragedy, and she knew the judgement would send her back to the pills rehab had convinced her weren't necessary to get by day to day.

When the pretty young woman leaned in, so did Eliana. This woman knew how to keep an audience captive, and there were no complaints from her about it. At first she nodded, head nearly bobbing as though it were a buoy on the water's surface, but then she began to digest the words and the motion slowed until she was just staring up at the brunette. "Those will stick, yeah. Those hurt, actually." But they weren't what nauseated her. "Do you like your job?" Eliana suddenly asked out of curiosity, the woman had teeth for her own profession. She might even sponsor her into university if it were something Bex would be interested in.

"You're a really good read on people. Not a talent, but a gift. Hopefully you use it wisely to keep your head above water." That was the moment she finally sipped the bourbon. It was so smooth and rich in flavor as it gently burned going down her throat. The drink was enough to quell the shakes for a while. "I don't bleed," and it wasn't just a line, a call for strength, it was an absolute truth. "I peel off bandaids and give wounds room to breathe and heal. But I'll do a tit for tat with you. Because you're interesting, you're... special. You tell me something and I'll share something of equal value, and that way we each quench a bit of our bloodlust." She smirked, not out of victory or challenge, but of interest in seeing which side of the coin this woman landed on. "Deal?"

Bex let the shot settle in her bones before answering — the kind of stillness that came not from peace but from knowing exactly what kind of storm lived inside her. Eliana’s words didn’t just sit pretty in the air; they curled in, dug around like they were looking for something to unravel. That kind of insight was dangerous. But also? Kind of thrilling. She let out a low laugh at the Point Nemo comment, one hand flicking a bottle cap off the bar with a practiced motion. “Honestly? I thought about arresting him myself. Man looked dead in the eyes and proud of it. Pumpkin spice tequila’s not a cry for help — it’s a manifesto.” The smirk tugged wider, but her gaze never dropped. Not when Eliana shifted from sarcasm to something that tasted a little closer to real. Bex knew that shift. Could clock it from a mile away — hell, wore it half the time. “Yeah,” she said after a beat, voice low, less performative now. “It works sometimes. Not always the way people want it to. Some folks just want to hear their own pain out loud, make sure it still sounds like theirs. Others? They don’t even know what they’re saying ‘til it’s out and bleeding.” She poured another shot, didn’t drink it yet. Just spun the glass between her fingers. “And yeah. I’ve heard some shit that felt too raw to be real. Shook me sideways more than once. But you know what gets me the most?” She leaned in again, tone just above a whisper, like she was giving away something that might cost her. “It’s not the big, wild confessions. Not the stuff about bodies or betrayals or all the ways people fuck each other up. It’s the quiet ones. The I don’t think I’m worth saving kind. The I tried to leave and still went back. That’s the shit that sticks.” Her eyes flicked to Eliana’s bourbon, then back to her face. There was something in those emerald eyes — a glint of knowing, maybe. Or maybe just a mirror. Bex didn’t flinch from it. “You’re not just asking for kicks,” she said finally. “You’ve been on both sides of the bar, haven’t you? Listener and leaver. Clean and not so clean. Makes it hard to sit still, huh?” A breath. A shrug. “Your turn, red. You here to bleed, or just poke the wounds?”

[elianasaintmleux]

Some people sat comfortably across from her and broke open their scabs and scars, others sat in a box and confessed for forgiveness, deciding after they'd done the deed that they need salvation, then there were those that sat where she was at and poured liquid fire down their throat. The beautiful bartender had the redhead looking left over her shoulder, then right, as though she had a clue which was table six. "That's a boring night for you?" Brow raised, impressed but also concerned about the nightly events here. "I'm pretty used to people falling apart in front of me while sharing the deepest and ugliest parts of themselves, but that guy about the pumpkin spiced tequila? I hope you called the authorities." Something of a grin took shape on her lips. "My professional opinion is that he's a sociopath. Keep an eye on that one. He needs to be dropped off at Point Nemo." Eliana winked and for a moment went back to the bourbon she was sipping. Each day was long, mentally and emotionally draining. She still occasionally broke out into a sweat, feening for the samples in her desk drawer or the prescriptions she'd write out for her patients. Practicing what she guided and coached others to do was awful, the clarity of sober life was too much. "Does that work?" Emerald eyes shifted to take the bartender's gaze again. "I know most people are desperate to talk and tell their stories, but then there's those have maybe looked into the abyss, those that treat their baggage like a security blanket." Her fingers shifted her glass on the bar top but she held the young woman's eyes. "Has anyone ever told you something so raw that you can't fathom it being real? Has it been so much that you thought it a lie, or maybe regretted asking?" Bartenders always had to listen, maybe she could be the one that shared. Plus, this was what Eliana did by trade — open other people up.

open starter!! (@windsorbaystarters) || location: shooters!!

Nights at shooters had teeth. The kind that sank in slow — right around your third drink, when the jukebox hit something you swore you’d never admit to liking and the haze from the old overhead lights made everything feel just a little softer around the edges. Outside, the place still looked like it had been forgotten by time and forgiven by no one, but inside? Inside was her kingdom. Bex leaned against the bar, one boot propped up on the foot rail, fingers drumming against a chipped bottle opener like she was waiting on fate or trouble — whichever showed up first. Her hair was a little messy, like she’d run her hands through it too many times, and her black tank top had survived at least two beer spills and one idiot who thought calling her sweetheart was a good idea. “Alright,” she said, voice rough around the edges but still loud enough to cut through the low murmur of bad decisions and cheap whiskey. “I've had three couples make out in the corner, two people try to break up at table six, and one guy ask if we have pumpkin spice tequila. so unless one of you plans on catching fire or confessing a murder, it’s officially the most boring shift I've had all month.” She poured herself a shot — no lime, no chaser — and let it burn down like it owed her something. Then, with a smirk curling at the corner of her mouth, she leaned in. “So, who’s got a story worth the spill? Bad hookup, good revenge, something you swore you’d take to the grave but won’t shut up about after two drinks?” Beat. “And don’t lie. I've got a nose for bullshit and a baseball bat in the back if you make me regret asking.”

[elianasaintmleux]

Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.

  — full biography.

ABOUT

Nickname: Ellie.

Age/DOB: 44 / March 24th.

Zodiac Sign: Aries.

Gender: Cis woman.

Place of Birth: Tacoma, Washington.

Neighborhood: Coral Coast.

Sexual/Romantic Orientations: Unlabeled.

Religion: Agnostic.

Occupation: Psychiatrist.

PERSONALITY:

Goals/Desires: To someday make peace with her past.

Fears: To have been wrong about her father after all this time.

Hobbies: Reading, going to museums and art shows, long drives, taking things apart and rebuilding them, going to the cinema alone, playing the piano, to be continued…

Likes & Dislikes: Likes taking the long way home, the color blue, blues music, traveling, alcohol, people who don’t ask her how she’s doing, art, and trying to make masterpieces out of IKEA furniture. Dislikes traffic, when people expect too much from her, not being able to sleep, people who are rude for no reason, fakeness, and know-it-alls.

FAMILY:

Parents: Martin & Joelle Serres Saint Mleux.

Sibling(s): Younger sibling.

Spouse: There's a former fiancé she never quite made it down the aisle to.

Child: Never got around to it, might have some regrets.

Pet(s): A black cat named Freud.

AN INTRODUCTION:

trigger warnings: murder, prescription medication abuse

at just 12 years old, in the height of some of the most intense drama for any grown adult to face, eliana had been forced to start her life completely over.

her father had been on trial for serial murder and she was the key witness to have sealed his fate. not only had she found his box of victim mementos in the back of her parents closet, she also saw him coming home through the woods with a shovel more than once.

the harassment her family faced during his trial had been so traumatizing that her mother moved her and her sibling away to oregon with a new name. they'd gone from being a serres to a saint mleux.

with her father serving consecutive life sentences her youth was plagued with guilt. eliana felt responsible for tearing her family's lives apart.

when she went to university she studied psychology with the goal of becoming a therapist. she wanted to help people, and maybe understand why people do the things they do.

her past was never truly far away, it haunted her, and with a prescription pad in her desk she began to dose herself and it eventually spiraled out of control becoming an addiction.

the only serious relationship eliana ever had was a sham. they'd met in a hospital parking lot and he was in the medical profession. their relationship moved fast and only a year later they were engaged.

it was only after she'd bought them a home and was putting the final touches on their wedding planning that eliana found out that he had only sought her out due to curiosity as his sibling had been a victim of her father's. eliana broke off the engagement.

with him being the first and only person she opened up to about her past, who her father was, and what she had done eliana went into a dark place emotionally and mentally.

eventually her family intervened and eliana went to rehab for her addiction before she completely destroyed her career. she's been clean since but struggles with it and the weight of the past. especially with her father working on appeals and reaching out to her.

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS:

Ex-fiancé — This connection is integral to her past and likely future development. He was the first and only man she's allowed into her life in any way. While still closed off from the darkest secrets she was looking forward to a life ahead with him. Now with their engagement over and her having freshly moved out of the house she'd bought for them I'm keen for the development from that point on.

Sibling — Eliana's younger sibling would be a great connection in the vein of her having to confront the past. Plus, I could see tension between them given how they might have felt of what had happened to their family. This is something I'd love work through with her.

Sponsor — Since becoming clean of her prescription drug abuse I would really love to have someone there that she can reach out to, lean on, and gain support from during this time as she continues to deal with her life and function without the aide of drugs.

[elianasaintmleux]

JESSICA CHASTAIN attends the Gucci Women's Spring Summer 2025 Fashion Show, September 20, 2024

[elianasaintmleux]

“I don’t mean to sound bitter, cold, or cruel, but I am, so that’s how it comes out.”

—

Bill Hicks

QUOTES

[elianasaintmleux]

“I like storms. They let me know that even the sky screams too.”

—