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tcswritings · 4 years

Text

TEXT MESSAGES, pt. 4.

Family matters are serious matters. Just a little thing, because my favourite Elsa in the world prompted it.

***

Sarah has created the group “ChaCha 70 years″.

Sarah has added you to the group.

Sarah has added Orla to the group.

Sarah has added Sean to the group.

Sarah has added Kieran to the group.

Sarah has added Declan to the group.

6:31 - Sarah: Does this work

6:31 - Sarah: HELLO

6:32 - Orla: HOLY FUCK MA YOU MADE A GROUP ALL BY YOURSELF 😱 😱 😱

6:33 - Orla: I’M SO PROUD?????

6:34 - Declan: YES MA IT WORKS. NO NEED TO SHOUT

6:34 - Declan: Wait what NO. Nooooo is it time again???? NO FUCK NO NO NO NO.

6:35 - Orla: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA IT’S CHACHA TIME

6:35 - Declan: 😫 😫 😫

6:35 - Charlie: What is a “ChaCha”?

6:35 - Declan: I’M NOT GOING I WENT LAST YEAR 😫

6:36 - Orla: You did NOT, I went last year. 😶 😶

6:36 - Declan: Are you BRAINDEAD?! I went last year and I’m NOT GOING AGAIN

Kieran has left the group.

6:37 - Sarah: At least one of you will be going, I am not having this discussion

6:37 - Declan: NO KIERAN COME BACK YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE AS YOU PLEASE

6:38 - Sarah: //Charlie: What is a “ChaCha”? // Our DEAR family friend Helen hosts her annual gathering and my kids are always being little shits about it

6:38 - Charlie: ??? Who is Helen? 😂

6:39 - Orla: // Charlie: ??? Who is Helen? 😂 // Helen calls herself ChaCha. Don’t bother asking, no one knows why. Tell Kieran to come back, he doesn’t get to just LEAVE, we’re all in this together. NO ONE GETS OUT

6:40 - Sarah: Helen is going to be 70 years old, this is a special one. The gathering is on November 14th

Sarah has added Kieran to the group.

6:41 - Sarah: Not all of us have to go but I am taking at least one of you with me and we’re gonna discuss this like adults

6:42 - Charlie: November 15th is my due date. 😅 I’m afraid I won’t be able to go but thanks for the invitation. Probably means I’m a full family member now.

6:43 - Kieran: oh no my wifes due date, how unfortunate

Kieran has left the group.

6:43 - Declan: //Charlie: The 15th is my due date. 😅 I’m afraid...// That’s NO EXCUSE AT ALL!? Let him pop out at the party WHATEVER people will have something to talk then

6:45 - Sarah: //Charlie: The 15th is my due date. 😅 I’m afraid...// I obsiously didn’t think of that my dear. Of course you won’t be going then

6:46 - Declan: WHAT

6:46 - Declan: 😶

6:46 - Declan: THIS IS UNFAIR!?

6:47 - Charlie: 😂

6:47 - Sarah: You can leave the group if you want dear

6:47 - Declan: STUPID PREGNANCY BONUS FUCK THIS

6:48 - Charlie: There’s no way I’m missing this. 😂

6:48 - Declan: full family member MY ARSE CHARLOTTE. you gotta suffer like ALL of us, you don’t get to pick the fun shit only?!?!

6:48 - Charlie: How is the long and painful process of giving birth to a new heir FUN?!

6:49 - Declan: BETTER THAN CHACHA

6:49 - Orla: OMG we can dress up Sam and Rory as us?! Like Declan and me???? Sam’s tall enough at this point 😂

6:49 - Declan: AAAH THAT IS GENIUS?!!?

6:49 - Orla: We gotta stuff Rory out a bit and say I got a haircut 😂

6:49 - Declan: LOL as if Chacha will notice 😂

6:49 - Declan: She’s gonna be 70, her eyesight has probably gone to shit anyway

6:50 - Sarah: 😡

6:50 - Orla: Ooooooh 👀

6:50 - Declan: oh OOOOOH 👀 ma is MAD 👀

6:50 - Orla: SO MAD SHE USED AN EMOJI 👀

6:51 - Declan: SHIT IS SERIOUS 👀

6:51 - Sarah: Listen you two if you don’t stop this I’m taking you BOTH with me

6:52 - Orla: TAKE KIERAN WITH YOU he never goes

6:52 - Declan: yeah he always gets to bail

6:53 - Charlie: I want him to be around when I could give birth any day???? Like, sorry, but he’s kind of involved in the baby thing. 😅 😂

6:53 - Declan: you don’t get your damn kid bonus CHARLOTTE. I have kid too

6:55 - Sarah: // Declan: you don’t get your damn kid bonus...// You would be excused if your 6 year old sons due date was ChaChas gathering oh poor tormented son of mine. Don’t you imply that I treat you all differently

6:55 - Declan: I’M BUSY

6:56 - Orla: What could you possibly be busy with 😒 😒

6:56 - Declan: I’m out of town. Joined a travelling circus

6:56 - Orla: When 😒 And as WHAT 😂

6:57 - Sean: // Orla: When 😒 And as WHAT 😂 // An overgrown monkey I assume

6:57 - Declan: OH SO FUCKING FUNNY DAD

6:57 - Sean: Thanks son, I think so too. 😂

6:58 - Sarah: I don’t understand why we can’t just discuss this like a normal family this is ridiculous. You all act like I want to lead you right like pigs to slaughter

6:58 - Orla: ChaChas gatherings ARE slaughter??? Did you forget about that one time when her silly other friend say that I gained so much weight since last year??? YEAH THANK YOU OLD BITCH I DIDN’T NOTICE AT ALL

6:59 - Orla: OH or that OTHER other silly friend who always asks me when I plan to get married already because TICK TOCK TICK TOCK?!?!? YEAH RUB IT IN ARSEHOLE

7:00 - Declan: Yeah, and then I go off and DO make that damn kid they all wanted so bad and THAT WASN’T GOOD EITHER 🙄

7:00 - Orla: WHATEVER WE DO, WE DO IT WroNg MA. THOSE GATHERINGS ARE WAR.

7:02 - Sarah: Oh come on you are sure above a bit of silly gossip

7:02 - Orla: NO I’M NOT. Not when mean old hags are involved

7:03 - Declan: take Mick, he’s good at that shit

7:03 - Declan: sometimes I think you love him more than us anyway

7:03 - Sarah: Right now I kind of do.

7:04 - Orla: 😨 😨 😨 LOW BLOW MOTHER

7:04 - Declan: I KNEW IT. I was just joking but OMG I KNEW IT.

7:05 - Orla: I QUIT

7:06 - Sarah: // Orla: I QUIT // You quit being my kid? 😂

7:06 - Orla: YES

7:06 - Declan: ME TOO. go and claim your stupid gorgeous angel faced blonde substitute son

7:07 - Orla: HE’S GONNA LOVE IT

7:07 - Sarah: You know. As you can’t act like the adults you are I’m gonna act childish too

7:08 - Sarah: Taking Michael would be nice for me but he’s married and has his life in order so he doesn’t provide a whole lot of gossip ground

7:08 - Orla: ANOTHER LOW BLOW, PERSON-WHO-USED-TO-BE-MY-MOTHER 😨

7:08 - Declan: 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 “Mick” and “life in order” in one sentence I CANNOT

7:09 - Sean: Just settle this already, you’re always making this so much harder than it has to be.

7:09 - Orla: I am not going.

7:09 - Declan: ME NEITHER I WENT LAST YEAR

7:10 - Orla: I WENT LAST YEAR. You had crazy shit going on last year at the time, I went FOR YOU. I took one for the twin team FOR YOU.

7:10 - Declan: then you certainly don’t mind going again I assume 😂

7:11 - Sean: Orla Deirdre and Declan Cathal O’Connell, you are going to figure this out in the next five minutes.

7:11 - Orla: Our full names are so much less intimidating as texts dad 😂 😂 😂

7:12 - Orla: // Declan: then you certainly don’t mind going again...// YES I DO. It’s your turn!!

7:12 - Orla: they’re gonna have MERCY with you

7:12 - Orla: I’m still unmarried and childless, would be the same shit all over again

7:12 - Orla: It would be the FAIR thing to do DECLAN.

7:13 - Sean: She has a point. It’s your turn. You know Orla went last year.

7:13 - Declan: NO 😣 I REFUSE

7:13 - Declan: travelling circus

7:14 - Sean: They can give you a day off, I’m sure.

7:14 - Declan: NO 😣

7:15 - Sean: Declan!!

7:15 - Declan: OKAY 😣

7:15 - Declan: FUCK THIS FUCK CHACHA FUCK MY LIFE

7:16 - Sarah: Attaboy.

7:16 - Sean: I’m glad this wasn’t incredibly dramatic at all again.

7:18 - Sarah: We’re gonna discuss the details later. Make sure you get a suit that fits my dear son.

7:18 - Declan: 🖕 🖕

7:20 - Sarah: I saw that

7:20 - Declan: AS YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO

... I’m sorry, they’re a mess. xD

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tcswritings · 4 years

Text

TEXT MESSAGES, pt 3.

I wasn’t going to do anything COVID-19-related that soon but I’m having some feels for Patti and Daryl and how they are more or less forced to spend their time apart these days.

***

5:22 - Patti: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

5:22 - Patti: I HAVE A SORE THROAT.

5:24 - Daryl: That’s... unfortunate?

5:24 - Patti: Yeah?! It is?

5:24 - Patti: I HAD PLANS.

5:25 - Daryl: What plans would that have been? Partying all by yourself in your yard? 😂

5:26 - Patti: 🙄🙄🙄

5:26 - Patti: No, I was going to sneak out, grab Clarissa(*) and drive to your place and maybe dance naked under your window.

5:27 - Patti: Like in Romeo and Juliet.

5:27 - Daryl: AW MAN.

5:28 - Daryl: That’s so much better than a sad lonely yard party.

5:28 - Daryl: Wait they danced naked under windows in R+J??

5:29 - Patti: No, he just climbed up her balcony, it would’ve been my own modern interpretation. 😂

5:30 - Daryl: I like that much better and not only because I don’t have a balcony

5:30 - Daryl: You really wanted to come here, though?

5:31 - Patti: Yeah, really. I mean, it’s been two weeks of isolation now, right? More or less? I just wanted to say hi, like actually SEE you for a change.

5:32 - Patti: Screw it tho, because HEY COOL SORE THROAT. I can barely talk.

5:32 - Patti: IT’S NOT FAIR. I don’t wanna be sick, now I have to stay in even LONGER.

5:33 - Daryl: Aw. 😅😘

5:33 - Daryl: I know this all sucks but it’ll blow over eventually.

5:34 - Patti: But WHEN?

5:34 - Daryl: I dunno Pat, but it will. 😘

5:34 - Patti: 💗

5:35 - Patti: Are you still alright at least? No coughs? No sneezes? You good? 💗

5:36 - Daryl: Yeah, I’m good. Went outside today, actually. 😅

5:37 - Patti: 😨 Did you take precautions?!?!

5:38 - Daryl: Yeah I put on my gas mask and armed myself with a spray bottle of hand sanitiser. And a spiked baseball bat. Just to be safe.

5:38 - Patti: Really?? 😂😂

5:38 - Daryl: No! 😂

5:38 - Patti: AW too bad, the mental image was cute. Do you even have these things?? 😂

5:39 - Daryl: I have hand sanitiser and a baseball bat. No gas mask though.

5:39 - Patti: You have a baseball bat? Why have I never seen that thing when I was at your place??

5:40 - Daryl: Haven’t unpacked all boxes yet, it’s probably in one of those. 😄

5:40 - Patti: Ah yeah, the boxes. You’ve been living in that apartment since when again?

5:40 - Daryl: 2017

5:41 - Patti: Why do you even still have unpacked boxes??? 😂

5:41 - Patti: After THREE YEARS??

5:41 - Daryl: I accept no criticism. 😂

5:42 - Patti: You could unpack them now?? 😂

5:42 - Daryl: No I’m busy, I owe Tom Nook a shitload of money.

5:43 - Patti: Not NOW-now but one of these days? It’s not like you have a whole lot to do? 😂 ARE you even doing anything?

5:43 - Daryl: I work from home?! And HEY I told you I went out today??

5:44 - Daryl: Oh and I also bought stuff online.

5:44 - Daryl: I keep capitalism alive. I am an important part of this fucked up society.

5:45 - Patti: 💩 💩 💩

5:45 - Daryl: 💩 💩 💩 yourself.

5:46 - Patti: I miss you. 💔

5:46 - Daryl: Miss you, too.

5:46 - Patti: I hate this. I miss my family, too. And Orla and Mick and Declan and the others. I miss the pub. :(

5:47 - Daryl: Yeah, so do I.

5:47 - Patti: The only thing I don’t miss is going to work. 😂 Could get used to workig from home tbh

5:47 - Patti: *working

5:48 - Daryl: Really? You can handle that? That’s great, actually.

5:48 - Patti: Yeah, it is, until I have to go back.

5:49 - Daryl: Maybe you don’t have to.

5:49 - Patti: Wow lol. Aren’t we the cheerful optimist today???

5:50 - Daryl: That’s not what I meant. 😂 I mean, you could still do the freelance thing? At least think about it?

5:51 - Patti: I dunno. I know I mentioned that a few times but it’s such a huge thing. Working from home for a few weeks in a secure job is entirely different than actually doing freelance work.

5:52 - Daryl: Sure it is but the place also makes you miserable. I dunno, it’s just a thought, you don’t have to do it but I think you’d do great.

5:53 - Daryl: You need to set your hourly wage really high, though. If I keep buying shit like I do, I need someone else to feed me because I’m broke. 😂

5:54 - Patti: Not my problem?! Stop buying shit, then. 😂

5:55 - Daryl: I bought you something, too??

5:56 - Patti: 😍😍😍

5:56 - Patti: What did you get me???

5:57 - Daryl: A gas mask.

5:57 - Patti: 😐

5:57 - Daryl: So I can borrow it from you. 😂

5:58 - Patti: 😐

5:58 - Patti: You didn’t SERIOUSLY buy me a GAS MASK as a GIFT??!?

5:58 - Daryl: 😂😂😂

5:59 - Daryl: No gas mask, don’t worry. You’ll see.

5:59 - Patti: A sex toy?! 👀

6:00 - Daryl: Nope! You’ll see!

6:00 - Daryl: Good idea btw.

6:01 - Patti: Haha yeah. Don’t bother, we wouldn’t be able to use that anyway. This virus shit is gonna last for-FUCKING-ever.

6:01 - Daryl: Don’t say that! 😂

6:01 - Daryl: Cure your cold and give it a few more weeks. 😏

6:02 - Patti: ?? You act like that doesn’t affect you AT ALL?!!?

6:03 - Daryl: Of course it does. I hate it but it’s not like I can do a whole lot about it?!

6:03 - Patti: Find a virus cure so we can screw again! 😂

6:03 - Daryl: Okay! That’s the most noble cause after all. 😂

6:03 - Patti: Aw, you get me McKenna! 💘💘💘

6:04 - Daryl: What else? Restore world peace? 😂

6:04 - Patti: Sure? I mean, why not? While you’re at it...?? 😂😂

(... to be continued SOON, I hope. I love writing these two, haha!)

(*) Patti named her bicycle “Clarissa”. xD

#daryl #patti #datti

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tcswritings · 4 years

Text

To the point.

I already posted this on the main blog but I feel like having it here, too! Patti and Daryl, finally getting to the point, after weeks of not daring to.

***

It was only this last Friday when Patti came to Daryl’s place, to pick him up, as the two had plans to attend a party of Daryl’s old school friend Ryan together. She somehow felt it was his way of half-asking her out for the first time, ever since they had agreed to take things slow and see where it all would lead, but the truth is that she couldn’t figure out his exact motives. It didn’t matter anyway. Both of them had been feeling some kinda way about each other for weeks now, so Patti couldn’t have been any more excited.

Unfortunately she had missed Daryl’s calls and his message while she was on her way and when she eventually arrived at his place, a woman with purple hair opened the door. Patti was confused, very much so, but the woman quickly introduced herself as “Daryl’s sister Davina”, probably picking up on Patti’s confusion. Relieved that the stranger was only the sister but even further confused about what she would do at her brother’s place just now, Patti stepped into the apartment, only to find out that Daryl was more or less knocked out by painkillers and rendered unable to attend the party, which he had tried to let her know while she was already on her way earlier.

When Daryl saw Patti all dolled up and beautiful, he felt terrible and urged her to go to the party anyway, as he knew that Orla and and the others would be there, too, and that there was no way that Ryan would make a fuss over a “stranger” showing up, but Patti refused. Daryl tried to argue but found himself too tired and weak to do so, so he let her stay. Davina said goodbye eventually, now that she knew that her brother was in very good hands.

Patti laid down next to her beloved friend, entertaining him with some funny anecdotes and reading silly things to him that she found on the web. She told him the story about how she and her sister Leah once tried to build their own bicycle out of old scrap parts, which made Daryl remember the plans he had made with Mick back at school, to build a motorised couch one day. Patti laughed at the thought of two grown up men driving a couch on wheels through Galway and Daryl admitted that, from time to time, he still dreams about doing it and that he sometimes misses the lighthearted things the gang was up to back in their earlier school days.

At some point Patti got hungry and ordered in some food and she also tried to get Daryl to eat, but he refused and merely told her to make herself at home in whatever way she wants. Patti looked down at him, full of concern. He looked plain miserable and she somehow felt that his condition wasn’t a first time occurence. She couldn’t put her finger on why she felt that way, but the way Davina had talked to Daryl, and how there seemed to be some sort of a routine to how she treated him - it all appeared strange to Patti but she would ask him later.

Daryl tried talking Patti into going to the party a few more times instead of getting bored watching him lay around (and he secretly hated that she saw him like this and that he had no power to do anything about it) but Patti had none of it so he gave up and, to be completely honest - he enjoyed her company despite his inner struggle.

At some point, past midnight, Daryl was sound asleep and Patti would fall asleep too, just like that, in her dress, next to him on his bed, holding his hand firmly in hers.

***

Patti needed a moment to orient herself when she woke up the next morning. She looked around, squinting a little at the light that fell through the blinds. This wasn‘t her apartment, she wasn’t in her own bed… oh… yeah, right. She remembered.

When she looked over to the other bedside, she found it empty. Still feeling sleepy but also not tired enough to turn around once more, she pushed the blanket off her (Daryl must have covered her at some point) got up and walked around the apartment, to eventually find her friend in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, drinking water from a bottle. He must have come right out of the shower as his hair was wet and unusually droopy.

“Hey… looks like you feel better.” she smiled and walked up to him.

Daryl put the bottle away and smiled back, taking her hand and gently pulling her into in his arms. He looked down at her, his eyes gleaming with adoration.

“Much better.” he said but now that he had a closer look at Patti’s smudged make up, her wrinkled dress and her fallen-apart hairdo, he felt a bit bad again and pulled back a little. “You missed the party.”

Patti closed her eyes and shook her head before she beamed up at him again. “If I had wanted to go, I would have.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. They couldn’t even have missed me, y’know. No one knew I was coming… unless you told everyone I’d come, that is.”

“Nah, I didn’t. Wanted to, but didn’t. Actually, I was still trying to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why I would bring you along to a party of a bloke you don‘t even know.”

“Ah well, that’s easy, isn’t it?” Patti mused, playing with a lock of his hair. “Ryan is your old friend, the gang was about to be together and you figured I might want to come, too? So I wouldn’t feel left out?”

“I’m not that considerate and they know that.” Daryl laughed. “Whatever. Not like it matters now.”

Patti merely smiled again and pulled Daryl into a sweet kiss. They held each other for a while, enjoying each other’s presence and warmth.

“Hey, so…” Patti muttered over Daryl’s shoulder a little while later. “What would you have told them about me showing up with you then?”

She pulled back a bit so she could face him again.

“I have no idea, really.”

“Hm. Okay, let me put it a little differently… why did you ask me to come along in first place?”

“Because I wanted you to come.” Daryl answered truthfully.

“And you wanted me to come… why exactly?”

“Is there, like, a wrong answer to this?”

“No? I’m just curious. It deemed me as pretty… datey.” Patti shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant about the situation but inside her, her heart was suddenly beating fast.

“Datey? That’s not even a word.”

“It is? I looked it up, the internet spat out an entry on Urban Dictionary.”

“Okay, I don’t even know what to say to that.” Daryl laughed and pulled Patti a little closer again. “I don’t know, Pat. I guess?”

“You guess what?” she breathed out.

“I guess you’re right, I asked you out. I really didn’t think a whole lot about it, I just wanted you to come and so I asked.”

“Then I’m asking you now… are you my boyfriend?”

Daryl pondered the question for a bit, Patti could tell.

“… I feel I’ve been for a while already? Maybe not really but… somehow?” he eventually said.

It’s true, Patti thought to herself. The way they had been acting around each other, the time they had spent together despite their plans to not to force anything between them… and also the times they had just sneaked around the next corner, to steal a hot kiss or two and the way they had still been getting along just as naturally as always, despite that - all of it hadn’t been forcing it, quite the opposite even. It all had felt just about right. And while she had never cared much about putting labels on anything, it did feel good to finally give it a name.

“I feel the same.” Patti agreed and beamed up at him.

They stood like that for a few more moments, smiling at each other sweetly in silent agreement until Patti broke the silence again.

“So, uh, you think I can hop under your shower for a bit?” she asked.

“Nice image… go on?” Daryl encouraged her, still smiling and caressing her cheek with his thumb.

“I really feel like getting rid of this dress-”

“I can help you with that?”

“- and my smudged make up, too.”

Daryl blinked in confusion.

“Wait… oh, you actually want to take a shower? That wasn’t dirty talk? Too bad.” He let out a little sigh in mock disappointment.

“Yeah, I actually want to take a shower, if you don’t mind. I feel a bit icky.” Patti laughed.

“You’re not, but go ahead.” Daryl shrugged as he let go of her so she could do what she wanted to do. “Have fun, how could I mind.”

He turned around to the counter and started gathering together some of the dishes that stood around. Patti watched him for a few moments, biting her lip and smiling a mischievous little smile that he couldn’t see.

“And, I dunno, we could maybe just go back to bed afterwards.” she suggested, while she pulled at the bobby pins in her hair.

“Nah, I’ve been awake since seven, I doubt I can go back to sleep just like that.” Daryl said while he put the dishes away, piece by piece.

“Okay? No problem, can’t force a man to go to sleep. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Take your time, I’m gonna clean up in the meantime.”

“Alright, fine, do your thing then. Oh, and just for your information…”

“Hm?”

“… the ‘going back to bed’ part was dirty talk.”

#patti #daryl #datti #I had some other dialogue but I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT #and then I was pouty and never rewrote it xD

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tcswritings · 4 years

Text

TEXT MESSAGES, pt 2.

Just another random messenger convo that kinda wrote itself. I’m sorry but I love my girls. xD

***

11:22 - Orla: OMG. I just met him.

11:24 - Patti: Whom?

11:25 - Orla: MY FUTURE HUSBAND. 😍 😍 😍

11:26 - Patti: Wow what? Where?

11:26 - Orla: IN THE SHOPPING CENTRE.

11:26 - Orla: 😍 😍 😍 💖 💖 💖

11:27 - Patti: AWW what a good place to meet a future husband!

11:31 - Patti: So I’m just to accept this now without any further details?

11:38 - Patti: At least a hint maybe? Hair colour? Strong? Well built?

11:41 - Patti: Wait is it the salad bar guy we saw last week?

11:43 - Patti: EARTH TO ORLA.

11:50 - Patti: Guess I’ll just wait for the wedding and see myself then.

11:55 - Orla: LOL sorry I got distracted. Ma called.

11:55 - Orla: IT IS NOT THE SALAD BAR GUY. OMG PATRICIA.

11:56 - Orla: I can’t marry a salad guy.

11:58 - Patti: What he was cute. 😂

11:58 - Orla: And then what? Eat salad every day for the rest of my life?!

11:58 - Orla: NO THANKS.

11:59 - Patti: He just works there. 🙄 It doesn’t mean he lives The Salad Life(TM) in his free time?

12:00 - Orla: Why would anyone apply to a salad bar when they can’t stand being around salad? There’s enough fast food chains around to apply to?

12:01 - Patti: Didn’t you work at a sportswear store once?

12:03 - Orla: ENTIRELY DIFFERENT SITUATION!?!??!?!? 😨 😨 😨

12:05 - Orla: ANYWAY

12:05 - Patti: 😂 😂 😂

12:06 - Orla: I was just paying for my coffee and he came out of the denim shop in the 2nd floor. I guess he was tall? I didn’t even really see his face tbh 😂 😂 😂

12:07 - Orla: But I SAW THAT BUTT. HE HAD THE PERFECT BUTT. 💖 💖 💖

12:08 - Orla: Wait.

12:08 - Orla sends a picture.

12:09 - Patti: What the fuck???

12:09 - Patti: You followed a man in the shopping centre to get a blurry shot of his butt?!? Orla OMG 😨 😆

12:09 - Orla: It sounds creepy when you phrase it like that?!? 😆 THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED.

12:10 - Orla: JUST LOOK AT THE BUTT SHAPE THOUGH.

12:11 - Orla: Late eighties, I’d say. 1988/1989 I think. Caucasian male, possibly on his way to become a manager or CEO.

12:13 - Patti: You didn’t even see his face? He could be old?! And an alcoholic?

12:13 - Patti: Even if you HAD seen his face, how woud you be able to tell any of these things?!

12:13 - Patti: *would

12:14 - Orla: HA!

12:15 - Orla: See, that was what my year in the sportswear store was good for.

12:15 - Orla: I KNOW A LOT ABOUT ARSES IN TIGHT CLOTHES. 😈 😈

12:15 - Orla: Show me ANY butt and I’ll give you the important info. COME ON, TRY ME.

12:15 - Patti: I only have photos of Daryl’s butt. 😂

12:16 - Orla: I take them, too. I could probably try and guess his mood when the pic was taken?! 😂

12:16 - Patti: Okay I’ll bite. Wait.

12:16 - Orla: NO NAKED BUTTS THOUGH!

12:17 - Patti sends a picture.

12:17 - Orla: OH MY that is a good shot?!

12:17 - Patti: RIGHT!? 😍

12:17 - Orla: Don’t tell him I said that. 😂

12:18 - Patti: Why not, he’ll be flattered. 😂

12:18 - Patti: Anyhoo, do tell.

12:22 - Orla: The dark gray jeans. He usually wears those to concerts or just going out. There’s just camera light in the pic so it was already dark so he was about to leave SO he was in a good mood already, excited to get drunk with whomever would join him later, probably Mick, and you begged him for a last butt shot, being the weirdo you are, so his mood even improved and he left the apartment as a very happy, confident man who knows HE HAS IT ALL IN LIFE. ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

12:23 - Patti: WOW LOL? True??! 😂 😂 😂

12:23 - Patti: That isn’t exactly butt science, though, you just combined some facts.

12:23 - Patti: And it’s still weird that you know my boyfriend better than I do. 😂

12:24 - Orla: Ah, I’ve only known him for a little longer. And yeah, you’re right. It’s not butt science. Probably doesn’t work with familiar butts. 😂

12:24 - Orla: Trust me, though. I have ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ~* A Talent *~ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

12:25 - Patti: You know what? I wouldn’t even be surprised if you had. 😂

12:26 - Patti: So when are you gonna marry Butt Man? Gotta save the date.

12:27 - Orla: I dunno if I should. I have second thoughts now. I don’t want a lame manager or CEO. Never did.

12:28 - Patti: Ah, that’s fair.

12:29 - Patti: Oh shit I gotta run btw, I need to get some groceries and some stuff.

12:30 - Orla: Alright, I need to do some work, too. Gotta finish some mock ups for my wannados and see Ma then.

12:31 - Patti: Are you at the DD later? I dunno, I feel like going?

12:31 - Orla: It wasn’t the plan but now that you said it?! SAME.

12:31 - Orla: LADIES NIGHT?!?!?! 👀 👀 👀 We could ask Jess and Harper?!?

12:32 - Patti: I dunno. Maybe just the two of us? I dunno, I feel we haven’t talked in a while?

12:33 - Orla: Is something wrong? 🥺 Did the man piss you off?

12:33 - Patti: LOL no, he’s very cute actually. 😍 There’s nothing wrong in particular, I really just feel like talking to someone

12:34 - Orla: OKAY THEN. I think I could be there at seven?

12:35 - Patti: Seven sounds great. I’m gonna text you later, I really gotta hurry oops LOL.

12:35 - Patti: LATER

12:35 - Orla: LATER 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖

12:35 - Patti: 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖

#orla #patti #I love writing messenger convos so much xD

2 notes · View notes

tcswritings · 4 years

Text

MASTER DUMP.

Just a whole lot of very rough scribbles that were in my drafts. Some are lengthy, some are very short, some are super old (and partly outdated), others are somewhat recent but they all got one thing in common - I probably won’t go back to them, at least not any time soon. I really just wanna clear my drafts for now, and hey, why not share these bits? I kind of enjoy them anyway after all. xD

***

I. Untitled

(Declan tries to talk to Mick during the time of their big fight.)

***

“This is so stupid, man. We'll keep crossin’ paths after all, whether you like it or not and you don’t really wanna keep this up for all eternity, do you?” Declan asked, crossing his arms while he and the others watched Ryan unpacking the next box.

“Why are you talkin’ to me?” Mick mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. He didn’t even bother to look at Declan.

“This is bullshit, Mick!”

Mick merely took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and focussing on Ryan instead who currently struggled with the wrapping of his gift.

“I mean, I know you love actin’ like a petulant lil’ arsewipe but you could as well as just use that energy to try and forgive me?”

“Do me a favour and drop dead.”

“In sixty years, maybe. You’re gonna have to put up with me for a few more years, I’m afraid.”

“Fuck you.”

“Guys! Shhh!” Jessie hissed at her two fighting friends.

*****

“Can you please tell me what’s so funny?” The least Declan expected from Lauren was a laughing fit.

“I’m sorry!” she chuckled, doing her best to pull herself together. “It’s nothin’ personal, just the thought of my son’s father and his best friend - two grown up men - bitchin’ at each other like sum’ pre-teens would.”

____________________

II. Untitled

(Charlie and Kieran and that one evening in the O’Leary’s.)

It’s Summer 2016 and Charlie realises that her feelings for Kieran have taken a somewhat different turn as she finds herself smitten with him when they have a talk at her favourite pub in Boston.

*****

He looked thinner than the last time she had seen him, and he looked worn-out and very tired.

Not the kind of tired that a few hours of a good night’s sleep could fix, but the kind of tired that someone who had seen and endured too much within a short time would look like, someone who was silently suffering and who was bad at taking care of it.

When Charlie had met Kieran O’Connell for the first time a little more than six years ago, he had acted like an unnecessarily rude brat and there was no other way to put it. He had the questionable charm of a guy who was well aware of his good looks and who knew he was quite the catch, so to say, and she could still remember his overly confident swagger, the arrogant look on his face, his deep and penetrating voice as well as how his pale blue eyes had pierced hers when he had looked into her face for the very first time.

Despite his rudeness (and the apparent lack of manners), Charlie had thought of Kieran as a force of nature from the very beginning and it turned out that she was right - once she got to know him a little better, it became more and more obvious to her that he was actually a very passionate and spirited guy with a heart as big as the entire world and that had impressed her so much more than his cocky behaviour and she couldn’t help but grow really fond of him over the years.

Not much was left of the cocky and lively guy today, though, and while it ached Charlie to see her friend in pain - he tried his best to cover it up but he couldn’t hide it - she had felt a strange wave of affection overwhelming her right in the moment they had greeted each other with a heartfelt hug. There was sympathy, of course, but it was mixed with something else and it took her a little while to figure the feeling out.

Charlie was nervous. Anticipating. And she had been ever since they had sat down at one of the tables. Charlie had been listening closely and her heart ached for him and yet she couldn’t help but notice a little spark despite the gloomy subject. There was nothing in this world she wanted more in this moment than to be close to him and to fix the things going wrong in his life so he would smile at her again, like he always had.

“I just wish there was something I could say.” Charlie sighed. “I don’t have too much to offer aside from ‘I know how it feels.’”

“Y’ do?”

“Yeah.” she nodded. “I lost my aunt when I was 15.”

“That’s rough. You never told me about it.”

“Yeah, it’s not really a subject to keep a mood up, right?”

“Fair enough.” Kieran laughed. “What happened to your aunt?”

“Well, to be fair, she wasn’t really my aunt, not by blood at least. She was the wife of my dad’s best friend.”

“Blood or no blood, it no longer matters after a while.” Kieran said with a faint smile. “How did she die?”

“Same. Car crash. She had her little daughter with her, they both died. She was only 31, her daughter was three.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yeah, it was. And it wasn’t even just the pain of losing them, y’know? Seeing dad hurt, seeing Adrian hurt - all of a sudden, our entire life was nothing but sadness and grief.”

Kieran let out a dry chuckle. “I know what y’ mean. Watching Ma and Pa, and also my siblings, is the worst. Like a punch to the guts. I try to come an’ see them as often as I can these days but truth is that I dread it every damn time. Sometimes it’s - I dunno. It’s-”

“Too much?”

“Too much.” Kieran nodded. “I mean, how do you even comfort the people who have raised you? What do you tell ‘em? That it’s gonna be alright? I don’t know what losing a child feels like. Gave ‘em nothin’ but grief myself for the better part of my life, I just don’t know what to do or say most of the time.”

“Do you think you have to do or say something?”

“Yeah, it’s what I think. It’s what I think any damn time I’m at home, any time my sister looks at me with her big sad eyes, like she’s at a loss at how t’ move on and any time my brother snaps at us, somethin’ he’s never done before, not like that at least. Someone has to keep this fuckin’ bunch from fallin’ apart after all-”

Kieran fell quiet as Charlie reached over the table and took his hand. It was a spontaneous reaction and Charlie already feared that she could come across as intrusive but Kieran didn’t even flinch at the gesture. He even closed his hand around hers. She squeezed it a little and a few moments later she could tell that he was starting to relax.

“I‘m sorry. Fuckin’ nerves.” he smiled.

“Couldn’t tell.” Charlie smiled back. “Relax. Breathe. You’re here for vacation. You can go back to saving your folks once you charged up.”

“I dunno, I think it takes a lot more to charge up than a few weeks away from home. Actually, I even feel like I’m running away.”

“No. It’s good you’re here. And maybe you won’t charge up right away, but you can get your mind off things for a little while. You gotta do that, y’know?”

“You think so, eh?”

“Yes, I do, and it has nothing to do with running away. You gotta take care of yourself every once in a while.” Charlie squeezed Kieran’s hand once more.

“You’re cute.”

“Well, it’s obvious that you’re not really good at taking care of yourself so I’m just trying to be the person who does it until you learn it.” Charlie cocked her head and smiled at him.

Returning the smile, Kieran brushed a strand of dark hair out of his face with his free hand. He looked at Charlie for a few more moments before he gently pulled his hand back, adjusting himself and looking around the pub. “Alright, how ‘bout we order a jug of ale, get roaring drunk and we’ll go wherever you wanna go?”

“I don’t do ‘roaring drunk’ too well.” Charlie chuckled, suddenly remembering the first and only time he had seen her in that exact state.

“Me neither. We’re already halfway there, though, and we’ll be fine, c’mon.”

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean? I’m nowhere near roaring drunk and neither are you?”

“We could be. Anything you want, love. Let’s get our minds off things, as you put it.”

Charlie couldn’t tell what exactly caused the flutter in her stomach - the little spark in Kieran’s eyes as well as his playful smile or the term of affection. He had addressed her like that before but it meant more today than it ever had before and she felt herself all too willing to respond.

(...)

____________________

III. Untitled

(Orla yells at Mick for getting married in a fever.)

***

“You. WHAT?”

Orla’s outcry was followed by the distinct noise of shattering glass, causing Mick to flinch and jump back a little. He looked at the mess at his feet and then back at Orla who merely stared at him, her eyes wide, before she looked to the ground and slowly took a crouching position, proceeding to swipe the little shards together with her bare hands.

Mick could see that she was trembling and hunkered down as well. “Be careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” he said, but Orla merely batted Mick’s hand away as he tried to keep her from touching the glass.

“NO, don’t touch me!”

“Orla-”

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you didn’t do what I think you just said you did!” Orla’s voice cracked.

“Orla, there’s no need to freak out-”

“You can’t be married!?”

“I am, I jus' told you!”

“Oh my god.” Orla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Still in her squatting position, she propped up her elbow on her knee, wiping her face with her hand and eventually pinching the bridge of her nose with her finger and her thumb.

Mick raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a bit dramatic right now?”

"Shut up!” she hissed back at him. “Don’t you dare calling me dramatic!"

“Aye, sorry, I-”

“Are you out of your mind? I mean, more than usual?!"

Mick ignored the little remark. “I don’t even know why you’re makin’ such a big deal of it-”

“Because it is a big deal! It is a Big. Fucking. Deal, Mick! You got married!” She glared at him and realised that she still had a few shards of glass in her left hand. “Ah, fuck this!” she hissed, tossed the few shards to the ground and stood up again, eventually stomping out of the room.

Mick looked after her for a few moments. Granted, he hadn’t really expected Orla to be thrilled, but he hadn’t expected her to be so furious either. Feeling a little helpless, he bit his lip, before he stood up as well and followed her into her living room. When he opened the door, he almost bumped into her. Orla swiftly turned around on the spot.

“Orla, c’mon, let’s just-”

She cut him off once more. “I don’t believe this, Mick. You come here and tell me that you just got married to this total nutcase-”

“Oi, watch it!”

“- and expect me to be, what exactly?! To be cool with it? Like it’s no big deal at all, like it’s the most natural thing ever that my best friend disappears for a weekend and comes home married, to a woman he hardly knows, without letting any of us know-”

“Orla, what the fuck is your problem?”

“You! You are my problem! For years I was the one,” - Orla pointed at herself - “who always stood up for you when anyone called you stupid or idiotic and whatnot but it’s true. They’re all right, you are an idiot and you have always been!”

Mick let out a little laugh as he now faced Orla, his eyes narrowing. “Is that all y’ have to say? That I’m an idiot?”

“Well, you must be!” Orla went on. “The only other explanation I have for this bullshit is that she must do some really amazing things in the bedroom. Does she?”

Mick let out another laugh but it wasn’t a friendly one. “Fuck this, I don’t need to justify myself.”

“No, of course you don’t. Go off, be happy, do what you want. You never cared about filling me in about this but hey, as your best friend I couldn’t be happier for you!” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“How many times do I have to tell you that-”

“- that it was a spontaneous thing? Oh, don’t worry, I got that!”

“Orla-” Mick tried again after a few moments of silence, his voice soft, but Orla wasn‘t done yet.

“I mean, it is not quite what I meant when I told you a while ago that you need to work on being more spontaneous again. You could’ve started by, dunno, going on a road trip or buying a new couch or gettin’ Sasha a friend but hey, why not marry a woman you have known for six minutes? You exceeded my expectations, congratulations!”

All of a sudden, a thought crossed Orla’s mind and as it did, her heart skipped a beat and she could feel the colour rushing from her face. “Oh dear lord. She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

Mick now closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh god, oh my fuckin’ god.”

“Answer me!” Orla spat out.

“I dunno!” he shot back.

“Wrong answer!”

Mick groaned. “I mean, I don’t think so, no?! Even if she was, it wasn’t the reason why we did this.”

“Oh my god, I would even get that, considering how you were raised and-”

“Shut up! Just shut. up!” Mick eventually interrupted her harshly. He was done being patient. “Stop psychoanalysing me, stop buggin’ me, stop doin’ whatever y’ doin’. You insulted me in every possible way within the last ten minutes and I don’t need that shit from you, not from you!”

“Well, did you expect me to be happy for you? Like you didn’t just ruin your entire life?”

“I didn’t ruin my life and no, I didn’t expect that.” Mick replied wearily. “I dunno what I expected, I just didn’t think y’ would be that much of an arsehole about everything.”

“I am not being an arsehole-”

“You’re bein’ the worst arsehole I’ve ever known right now and I’m done talkin’ about this unless you tell me what the real problem is.”

“I don’t have a problem?”

“You most certainly do. And I wanna know what it is, goddammit.”

“You’re throwing your life away for a woman you hardly know! You keep falling for all those wacko women who are terrible for you and it’s beyond me how you fail to see that-”

“Wait, just so I get this right... you can date whomever you want, for as long or short as you want, no matter how much of a fuckwad the guy is, but once I pick someone, I need your approval?”

“That is not what I’m saying.” Orla groaned and rolled her eyes.

“So what are y’ sayin’ then?”

Orla blinked and took a breath as she put her hands to her hips, shooting Mick a harsh look.

“Has it ever occurred to you that you make the worst choices, Mick? That you’re complete and utter shit at getting your damn life together? You just outdid yourself! First Leila-”

“That was different-”

“-and now Mina. Why can’t you just pick a nice and stable one for once? Why can’t you just-”

“Stay alone so I can be your last resort?”

Startled, Orla looked at Mick, her lips parted in shock.

“What did you just say?” she whispered.

“I dunno, I’m merely gettin’ the impression that you like keepin’ me on a short leash but once I go off and do my own thing-”

“You have some nerve-”

“Obviously hit a nerve.” Mick mumbled.

“You’re so full of shit! Why would I want to keep you as a last resort? What kinda fucked up thought is that even? You’re my best friend!”

“Hell yes, I am, and I wouldn’t want it any other way but right now y’ bein’ the world’s worst bitch-”

“HEY!”

“And don‘t tell me that you wouldn’t have ran off with that fuckin’ Australian if he’d asked you to.”

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m glad I didn’t. All relationships start out great, you know that, but things can blow up so quickly. Even worse, sometimes one part just runs away when nothing at all happened, just like James did.”

“Just like you did.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You ran away from me, just like that.”

“Oh my god, why are you bringing up age old stories again?”

Mick ignored the question. “Y’know what? I don’t even care. I care about makin’ this work, I can do that all by myself and I don’ need your support anyway. How about y’ just leave me be, alright?”

____________________

IV. Untitled

(Declan and Lauren face some unexpected trials of life.)

***

September 2014

“What about Marshall?”

“What, like the guy from that terrible sitcom?”

“Nah, like the amplifiers. Or, y’know, like Jimi Hendrix’s middle name.”

Lauren pursed her lips as she pondered the suggestion for a few moments. She eventually shook her head. “Don’t think so, no.”

“Aw, c’mon, why not? It sounds badass.”

“But I will know that the poor baby was named after either a drug addict or a huge black... block. Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“Just think about this, though: he’ll love us for the name when he eventually becomes a guitarist?”

“We don’t even know if he’s a he, Dec. Let alone whether he becomes a guitarist.”

“Come on. ‘Course it’s gonna be a boy. I mean, “ Declan shrugged, “two brothers, two nephews? We have strong genes.”

“Dear lord, no, I really don’t wanna raise a... you.” Lauren groaned as she leaned back against the wall, struggling to find a comfortable position. She was in the eighth month of her pregnancy and some things became a little tricky - such as finding resting positions that didn’t leave her sore or in pain after ten or less minutes.

“Aw, will you ever stop pretending that you can’t stand me? I mean, we both know how that came to be?” Declan gently patted Lauren’s belly before he reached over to grab one of the pillows that were piled up next to the little cupboard that he had helped her build up earlier. “C’mon, take that. You probably shouldn’t be sitting on the floor anyway, eh?”

“Ugh, it no longer makes a difference anyway. I feel and look like a whale, everything hurts and nothing is comfortable anymore. Not ever.”

As he put the pillow behind Lauren’s back, trying to make sure that she felt at least a little more comfy, Declan grimaced. He felt pretty guilty all of a sudden. “... sorry you feel like that.”

“That, uhm, was actually the part when you were to say ‘You don’t look like a whale, Lauren!’, y’know.”

“Ah, shit.” Declan laughed. “You don’t look like a whale, Lauren!”

“You’re a horrible liar but, y’know, points for trying and such.” Lauren smiled back. “It’s alright, I’m kidding, don’t worry. Looking like a whale is kinda like my least problem these days.”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay. Can I be completely honest for a second?”

“Sure.”

Lauren took a heavy breath. “I’m freaking out, actually.”

“What? Now?”

“No, not now. I mean, yeah. Also now! All the damn time! I mean, aren’t you freaking out? Not at all?”

Declan looked at Lauren and when he pondered the question in his mind he realised that, at least right now, he was quite far from freaking out. “Not really.” he replied. “I mean, I used to, yeah?”

“I know you used to. You freaked out right in the beginning and now, with due date ‘round the corner, it’s me... I dunno. I kinda don’t want this.”

“Bit late for second thoughts, I’m afraid.”

“I know! I know how horrible that must sound to you now, oh god.”

“Nah, it doesn’t.”

“I’m just wondering how on goddamned earth I thought I could be a good parent. I mean, I took the risk of getting pregnant just so I - so we could- oh god. So what’s next? Huh? Tell me.”

“Uhm-”

“I tell you what’s next. I’m gonna put Baby on the changing table and leave the room, just like that, because hey, what’s the worst that could happen, eh?”

“Okay, what are you talking about-”

“And I sure won’t bother reading about nutrition and food?! Oh hell no, I’ll just give Baby some rubbish I find in the back of my refrigerator ‘cause, I mean, it works for me, right?!”

“Oh god, Lauren, what the fuck is that about now?”

“I am stupid, Dec! I don’t think things through, I can’t possibly be a parent!”

“So what, I’m stupid, too? Kinda played my part in this, y’know.”

“Oh my god! Yes, you are stupid! We’re both stupid!”

Declan snorted. “So let’s just hope this all maybe works out like multiplication, eh? Minus times minus equals plus?”

“We’re not at school!” Lauren moaned.

“Yeah I’m kinda grasping at straws here.” Declan admitted and bit his lip. “Honestly though, it’s what I do all the time. I just hope for the best. And somehow it works?”

“But you can’t just ‘hope for the best’ when a baby is involved?”

“Huh! Just think about all those weirdos in this world who manage to raise a kid. It somehow works? My parents raised us and they’re pretty much the worst weirdos I know.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me now?!” Lauren raised an eyebrow.

“C’mon, we really didn’t turn out all too bad! ... okay, Orla is a bit weird, I’ll give you that, but three out of four is still a good rate?”

“Oh my god!” Lauren laughed.

Declan smiled at her for a few moments before he eventually put his arm around her shoulder, scooting a little closer and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I’m not even saying that everything will be fine, I’m just saying that it’s gonna happen, no matter what, and we just kinda... have to do this.”

“My parents offered any help I need...” Lauren murmured, resting her head on Declan’s shoulder.

(...)

September 2019

(...)

“Oh man, for how much longer are they even going to be in there?!”

“Shh. It’s all good, it’s been only five minutes.” Lauren whispered.

“I don’t understand why they have to keep doing all this, it’s not like it changes, y’know... what it is.”

“They need the x-ray to check his lymph vessels, so they can eventually figure out the best way to treat him.”

“They’re clueless.”

“They’re thorough. He’ll be fine, you know they won’t harm him.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you already sound like them.” Declan scoffed.

“I don’t. Unlike you, I listened to what they had to say! Stop using that tone on me already!”

“What tone?”

“Like I have no clue what you’re going through.”

Declan could hear the bitterness in Lauren’s voice and it was when he knew he had gone too far. He couldn’t let it out on her. Of all people in his life, Lauren was the one who understood exactly how he felt and she was also the one whose company he longed for most these days.

“I’m sorry. God, I- I know I’m awful. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it.” Lauren rested her head against his shoulder while they held each other close.

“He’s all alone in there.” Declan’s voice broke and he wiped his tired eyes with the palm of his hand. “I hate it when they take him away.”

“I know. Me too.”

“I’m freakin’ out, Lauren.”

“C’mon, let’s sit.”

“Don’t wanna sit, I want him back.”

“I know, I want the same.”

“Don’t know how it happened but I’m strangely fond of this kid.” Declan now let out a little laugh. It was a nervous laugh, one that happened because he was too scared to let out anything else at this point. Lauren knew him well enough.

“Go figure.” she replied faintly. There was silence for a few moments until Declan spoke again.

(...)

____________________

V. Text Messages, part 1.

Declan has created the group ‘concert shit’.

Declan has added you to the group.

Declan has changed the group image.

6:43 - Declan: Lady and Gentlemen, this is the long overdue group chat to plan our concerts and open airs. I’m sick of talking to you individually and organise shit all by myself.

6:44 - Jessie: Like you ever did that or are remotely good at that kinda stuff 😆

6:44 - Declan: Quiet Jessica.

6:44 - Jessie: No. 😂 😂 😂

6:44 - Declan: Suggestions to change the group title are not welcome btw. Concert shit is a grand name for this kind of group

6:45 - Mick: why cant we change the title

6:45 - Mick: it’s shit

6:45 - Mick: literally

6:46 - Declan: Because we can’t Michael.

6:46 - Declan: I’m the admin, I say what’s to be done.

6:46 - Mick: ya do shit man

6:46 - Mick: like I let ya tell me what to do

6:47 - Daryl: I already hate this group dynamic.

6:47 - Jessie: It’s like in real life. 😆

6:47 - Jessie: Dipso always tries to be the one who decides shit. And we just don’t let him so it’s all good? So, Clockwork Fury in Dublin? I’d be up for it!

6:48 - Daryl: When?

6:48 - Daryl: And why Dublin, why not Athlone? Aren’t they playng in Athlone this time?

6:48 - Daryl: *playing

6:48 - Declan: I didn’t even know they are touring. Found them kinda lame last time tbh.

6:49 - Mick: they ARe lame

6:49 - Mick: Im out

6:49 - Mick: road trip to dublin tho

6:49 - Mick: like 2017

6:49 - Mick: for gojira

6:49 - Mick: I WANT a noTHER ROAD RIP

6:49 - Mick: TRIP lol

6:50 - Daryl: I still have nightmares and flashbacks from that trip. How much are tickets for CF, Jess?

6:52 - Jessie: 30ish, I think. I’ll order next week, I’m definitely gonna go and I’m taking Harper.

6:53 - Daryl: You guys are serious now?

6:53 - Jessie: I dunno. Yeah? I guess? 😂

6:53 - Jessie: The woman needs some good taste in music HONESTLY. And, I mean, she agreed to come and to be open about more future concerts and planning stuff together kinda means we’re in relationship land!? I mean, is that even a good sign?

6:54 - Daryl: How would I know? I’m shit at that stuff. 😂

6:55 - Jessie: Does Patti know you’re shit at that stuff? xD

6:55 - Daryl: She’s had first hand experience for three months now so yeah, I assume she does. She kinda seems to like me enough. 😂

6:55 - Jessie: Yeah why she’s a KEEPER?! 😜

6:55 - Jessie: Told ya that if you mess it up, I will gladly take her.

6:56 - Declan: what the fuck??

6:56 - Daryl: Thanks Jess but I think I’m gonna keep her myself. :D

6:56 - Declan: last time I checked this chat was called ‘concert shit’

6:56 - Declan: NOT ‘RELATIONSHIP SHIT’

6:56 - Declan: y’all are annoying with your relationship shit.

_________________

VI. Sailor Man

March 2020. The days are getting longer, the air is getting warmer and Orla just met a handsome sailor from overseas. Her friends are very, very curious.

***

“So, who was that guy last night?”

“Can we maybe not talk about last night? I still feel horrible.” Orla sounded tired and as she rubbed her temples, she let out a faint sigh.

“Ah, sweetheart, don’t worry. You got tipsy, so what?” Rosamund waved off. “All I could complain about is that you didn’t spend your money here at my place, as usual.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know what happened.” Orla groaned. “I was at the tattoo studio, and all of a sudden this incredibly sexy guy in a sailor uniform comes in. Tall, broad, dark hair, gorgeous tan, tattooed all over, bright smile, cute dimples... and that’s when I, well. I kinda stopped thinking.”

“A sailor uniform?” Patti asked. “You’re dating a sailor?”

“We’re not dating, we have met only yesterday! He wanted to get a little tattoo that would remind him of his stay here. I think Harper noticed that I was... , well, that I was a bit into him and pointed him in my direction and I told him that I was only the apprentice but he didn’t care, he wanted the tat anyway so I did it.”

Orla looked around. Rosamund, Declan and Patti all stared expectantly at her. She frowned but eventually shrugged and went on.

“Well, we went out afterwards, we had a snack, I showed him around, he told me he was from Detroit... annnnd we hopped some bars, I got tipsy, and at some point he kissed me, and I got even more tipsy.... and then we got here and I said some really terrible things to Mick and... oh god, Mick.” Orla groaned, closing her eyes and burying her face in her hands. “I somehow need to sort that out.”

“Ah, not now, though.” Patti interfered. “A sailor, wow. I mean, is he a sailor or just some weirdo who likes dressing up as one?”

“Oh, he is a sailor, darling. Such a sailor.” Rosamund closed her eyes and smiled, still charmed by the cheer memory of the guy.

“And he’s definitely an upgrade to Pizza Pete.” Declan nodded.

“Don’t call him Pizza Pete!?” Orla snapped.

“He referred to himself as Pizza Pete?! Don’t try to cover that he was the unfunniest... blandest boyfriend you ever had.”

“It’s the way you said it. Don’t be so condescending. Pete was cute and... well, I got fifty percent off my next order after any time we, uh... we met.”

“Ugggh...” Declan wrinkled his nose and looked away.

“Fifty percent? You were screwing that guy and all you got was lousy fifty percent? What a cheapskate.” Patti exclaimed, clearly appalled.

“It’s better than nothing- what, no, I don’t wanna talk about Pete now? My head’s still spinning, y’all need to leave me suffer in silence, please.”

(...)

_____________

VII. Untitled

(I don’t even know what this was supposed to be, lol. Sean turns 53 and the family celebrates?!?!?! Also, this must be set in 2013 since Orla and Mick are a thing here, haha.)

***

“I still don’t know how y’all convinced me to celebrate my 53th birthday.” Sean O’Connell laughed. “It’s not an even number or somethin’ after all.”

“Well, we need some kind of excuse to stuff our faces and get drunk during daylight?” his daughter suggested, rasing her glass to her father. “Cheers, Da!”

“Cheers, sweetheart. Like you ever cared about that.” Sean replied and he nearly lost it at Orla’s dumbfounded expression.

“When did I ever get drunk during daylight? I don’t do that!” Orla seemed appalled.

“You did. With Ma.” Declan chimed in. “Like, two weeks ago.”

“You did what?” Next to Orla, Mick raised his eyebrow, suppressing a smile.

“Uhm no, that was just-”

Sean laughed heartily now. “No no no, no need to justify yourself, kid, that was hilarious. I loved how you two sang along to- what was it again?”

“Daaaad!” Orla moaned.

“The Moulin Rouge soundtrack! After all those years it’s still wonderful!” Sarah noted.

“Oh yeah.” Declan noted with an eyeroll. “So wonderful.”

“Glad I wasn’t around for that.” Malachy mumbled next to him.

“You should be. It was ugly. Very, very ugly.” Declan mumbled back at him. “Earshattering. Frightening.”

“Oh god, can you just stop being arseholes and-” Orla interfered but Sarah just shook her head.

“C’mon, sweetheart, it’s not our fault that all these lil’ fuckers here have no idea how to spend a good time, eh?”

Orla pursed her lips for a bit and eventually nodded. “You know what? Right you are, Ma. Y’all are just boring. We should do it again, I think. Right here. Right now.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t.” Malachy spat out. “I don’t need any nightmares later.”

“You are a nightmare.” Orla shot back. When she saw that her boyfriend was still looking at her with his eyes wide in apparent confusion, she groaned. “Don’t look at me like that? I promise, I won’t burst out singing songs now.”

“Whatever,” Mick answered. “There could be worse after all.”

Malachy snorted. “Jesus Christ, congrats!” he said into Orla’s direction. “Apparently love ain’t just blind, it’s also deaf.”

“I mean, Mick, you know she can’t sing, don’t you? ‘Course you do.” Declan added.

“Ugh, c’mon, Dip, what am I supposed to say now? She’s sittin’ right next to me.”

“At least he’s not blatantly lying!” Sarah chimed in. “I like that! Very promising!”

“Y’gotta learn that, tho.” Declan said. “Relationships are all about sugarcoating and tellin’ each other weird cute-sy shit just so the other one ain’t pissed all the time.”

“Aye, I’m, uh, not gonna take that note, don’t mind me.” Mick raised an eyebrow.

“Good boy!” Sarah nodded. “You two will do just fine, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, just don’t take any tips from Declan.” Malachy added.

“Hey!” Declan protested. “I give great advice.” He turned to Mick and Orla again. “Mark my words, man, in a few years, when the two of you have three weird kids and are miserable all the time, you’ll be longing for my piece of advice.”

“No one is having weird kids!” Sarah chimed in. “Hopefully.” she added quietly, but still loud enough that both Mick and Orla now shared a startled look.

(...)

__________________

.... that’s it, I guess. Sanne out. :’D

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tcswritings · 4 years

Text

Birthday.

The evening of February 6th, 2020. It’s Daryl’s 27th birthday and when Patti picks him up from his work place and hands him a little something before they are going to head off for dinner with their friends, the two can’t avoid to reconsider their feelings for each other.

***

(...)

“Pat?”

Daryl frowned as he recognised the familiar young woman standing in the light of the street lamp, expectantly looking at him with one of her most adorable smiles.

To say that he was surprised to see her here was an understatement.

It was definitely a nice surprise, though. Patti looked simply radiant (she even would if she wasn’t waiting in the literal spotlight) and Daryl needed a moment to recollect himself before he eventually put on his jacket and walked over to where his friend was waiting for him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he called as he walked towards her.

“Well, I thought it would be nice if I picked you up from work. I mean, since it’s your birthday and all.” Patti smiled and she gave him a hug once he was close enough. When they broke apart, Daryl looked at her and frowned.

“By public transport?”

“What?”

“You came all the way here by public transport, knowing that I have a car and could get home all by myself?” Daryl laughed. “Gosh, you’re cute.”

“Who said I came here by public transport?”

“Yeah, uh, well, what other option do you have?”

“Some shady, greasy, criminal-looking guy offered me a ride in his fucked up car earlier, how could I let that opportunity pass?” Patti answered nonchalantly.

Daryl was so used to her occasional deadpan remarks by now that he didn’t even bat an eye at this newest creation of hers.

“Ah, fair enough. Was it fun?”

“Of course! Girls love a good car ride with a sweaty, stinky picture book criminal. Too bad he was on the run and couldn’t stay.”

“Aw, don’t worry. If it’s meant to be, you’ll meet him again.”

Patti chuckled as she watched Daryl fumbling for his car keys in the pocket of his jeans. When he found them, he nodded towards the parking space.

“Shall we then?” he suggested. “The others should be at the pub soon-”

“Wait!” Patti held him back. “Well, the actual reason I came here to pick you up is that I got you a little something.”

“What? You got me something? As in...”

“As in ‘a gift’, silly! And I’d prefer if you opened mine before we go and see the others. They’re always so weird about these things, y’know.”

“Pat, what- why?”

“Aw, like it’s big news that people who have birthdays get gifts? Come over here, c’mon!” Patti grabbed Daryl by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him over to the little wall that isolated the parking space from the university ground.

“I know?” Daryl uttered as he got dragged along. “I just didn’t expect anything, I’m not really a gift guy. Honestly, you shouldn’t have!”

“Too late.” Patti laughed. As they reached the wall, she hopped on it and Daryl did the same, taking up the space right next to her. “Besides, it’s really just a small thing, don’t get all too excited.”

She opened her bag and pulled out a flat package wrapped in shiny black paper, with a black ribbon and a grey paper tag on top of it. Daryl took a closer look at the tag - it said “Happy Birthday” in fancy black letters and he could tell it was lettered by hand. For a moment he deeply admired Patti’s craftmanship. He didn’t even know what was inside the package yet but he already loved the outside enough to feel really touched.

“I didn’t get you anything back then?” he merely said, never taking his eyes off the pretty gift.

“My birthday was half a year ago and we didn’t talk as much then as we do now, right? Just open it, it’s fine, I felt like it.” she encouraged him, scooting a little closer.

“Alright, here we go.” Daryl said with a chuckle and gently took the package out of her hands. He started picking at a piece of tape and as Patti watched him nervously as he carefully pried the wrapping paper open. Once he was done, she swiftly snatched the paper out of his hands so he could properly study his gift.

“Wow, what?”

Daryl briefly looked up at his friend, his lips parted in surprise, before he looked back down at the old and slightly tattered book in his hands. He looked at the cover for a few moments before he opened it and studied the first page carefully, eventually letting out a perplexed little laugh.

“You mentioned it a while ago.” Patti said, breaking the silence. “That it’s one of your favourites, and that you lost your copy recently.”

“It’s the first edition, and it’s signed! Pat, that’s incredible!”

“Yeah, I found it online last week, while I was browsing this website that buys and sells used books, and I remembered - I mean - it’s nothing, really-”

“It’s not nothing. It’s one of the coolest things someone ever gave me.” Daryl breathed out and Patti couldn’t remember a single time when she had seen him having such a genuine and honest reaction of joy.

“I’m afraid it has some stains, though.” Patti grimaced.

“Oh, mine looked worse, actually.” he laughed as he skimmed through the book’s pages. “I accidentally drowned it in my bathtub once and it was still wet in parts when I tried to press it back into it’s old shape so some of the edges just stuck together… and it was really just a big mess.”

“Wow, that poor book.”

“What can I say, I’m a klutz.”

“Looks like it.” she smiled.

Daryl smiled back and a moment later, without thinking too much about it, he leaned in for a kiss and Patti didn’t seem surprised at all, as she kissed him back without hesitation, as if it as the most natural thing for them to do.

The kiss wasn’t a long one, but it was very sweet and gentle and it felt very, very right.

“Thank you.” Daryl said once they parted, his face still close to hers. “I really love this, it’s great!”

“I’m glad.” Patti smiled against his lips, giving him one last peck before she pulled herself back. “To be honest, I was a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, I just felt a little silly all of a sudden. I was pretty excited when I found the book last week, because I instantly thought of you and… I guess that just threw me off guard a bit?” She paused. “And when I came here earlier I was really close to freaking out, I thought you might find it… well, weird. It was too late to back out, though, you had already seen me.”

“Why would I find it weird? It’s a thoughtful present!”

“That’s exactly my point!” Patti sighed. “I usually don’t care as much, I either just buy people chocolate or give them money. I’m not very creative when it comes to making gifts. And now I came all the way here, with a personal gift... I thought you might, well... read something into the situation.”

Daryl let out a faint laugh and once again looked at the book in his hands, stroking along it’s spine with his thumb and biting his lip.

“I don't.” he eventually said and looked back up at her. “I mean, not if you don’t want to. By the way, I, uhm, didn’t mean to-” he pointed at his upper lip with his finger, “- I mean, I did but it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Just like New Year didn’t mean anything?” Patti asked.

Daryl merely shrugged.

“So you… don’t want it to mean anything. Neither New Year nor... today.” She fixated him with curious eyes.

“That’s not what I said!”

It was Patti’s turn to be surprised now.

“Come again?!” she breathed out.

“No! I want it to- I mean, I don’t know. Pat, I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know... what exactly?” Patti pried, keen on making sure that she really understood what Daryl was trying to imply.

“I don’t know.” he sighed. “Things went right back to normal after New Year and I had everything in order, I mean, at least that’s what I thought, and now you show up here, looking like you do, and you give me this and, uhm, I’m not so sure anymore if I really have it all in order.”

“Uhm, what are you even trying to say?”

“Ah, I don’t know. Really, just forget it.”

“Daryl.” Patti playfully rolled her eyes and Daryl realised that she wouldn’t let him get away with some lame explanation or none explanation at all.

He figured that he could as well as just say it and so he took a deep breath.

“You, uh, may have turned my head a little.”

“A little?!” Patti blurted out. “You’re stammering like an insecure school boy!”

“Wow, as if I don’t feel stupid enough already.” Daryl playfully nudged her arm with his.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Patti laughed but then she apparently remembered what this moment was about. “Wow. So.”

“So.”

“I mean, the book and my showing-up-here already kinda gave it away... that I feel the same about you and... I mean, I’m not asking anything of you here but maybe we should-” she stopped as she saw the expression on Daryl’s face. He looked... uncomfortable? Agonised? She couldn’t figure it out but it sure made her heart a little heavy. “What? What is it?”

“I don’t know how to say this.”

“Oh man.” A bitter smile flashed over Patti’s face. “Alright. You don’t need to say it, okay? You don’t want a relationship. I mean, that’s cool? Even though I’m not even asking you to have one right away... I just thought that we could at least talk about what to do about all this.”

“No, I wanna say something?”

“That you’re not good enough, that I deserve better and that you don’t want to-”

“Pat, please. Just listen?” Daryl begged.

Patti pressed her lips into a thin line and gave him a quick nod. “Okay, I’ll listen.”

“Great. Okay, so, I don’t know how much you know from Orla already. About what happened when she dumped Mick all those years ago.”

“I don’t know a whole lot about it, only that it was, well, difficult for a while.”

“Oh wow, did she say that?” Daryl scoffed. “Well, she’s either suffering from fuckin’ memory loss or she took the art of sugarcoating to an entirely new level here.”

“What do you mean?” Patti brushed a lost strand of hair behind her ear as she listened curiously to what Daryl had to say.

“It was an outright war between those two. It was horrible and it was exhausting, for all of us.”

“Yeeeaaah, but... that’s what happens sometimes, when a couple splits. Both parties get bitter and cranky. And... I mean, Orla and Mick patched things up, right?”

“Yeah, they did, but you don’t know what it took them... what it took all of us to even remotely get there.”

“Okay, but why is this even relevant? We’re not Orla and Mick. I mean, sure it was hard for them? They took that giant leap of faith and did the friends to lovers thing and that alone takes a lot of courage! ... I mean, it’s normal that they couldn’t go back to being friends just like that but they made it!”

Patti’s voice had a vehement tone now; she was obviously trying to make a point, to prove that Daryl was worried for no greater reason. “Besides, they were, like, what? Twenty? They were practically kids, and... I mean, they’re still Orla and Mick, after all.”

Daryl smiled as he shifted a bit on the spot. He then cleared his throat. “What if they hadn’t made it, though? They would have lost each other for good, maybe. I don’t know if they would’ve gotten over that.”

“... eventually, maybe? I dunno, it’s pointless to even think about that, knowing that things went well for them.”

“I dunno, maybe, but I can’t help it.”

“Gosh, Daryl.” Patti let out a laugh. “If everyone thought about possible bad outcomes right away, before even trying a thing, no one ever would try anything. Ever. What a horrible thought, really.”

“Pat, I’m not saying that I don’t like the thought of being with you, alright?”

“Alright, okay. What are you saying, then?”

“I really, really enjoyed these last months with you.”

“Well, so did I!” Patti agreed.

“No, honestly. I can’t recall spending so much time with anyone else but Ryan and he’s my former best friend from school.”

“Yeah, I know Ryan and that he was your best friend.” Patti sounded impatient now and Daryl could almost hear the hissed little “What are you even getting at?” in his head.

“I know you know him, my point is that it was kind of a given to spend so much time together. We saw each other pretty much any other day until graduation. And I love hanging out with Declan, Mick and Orla and the others at any time, too, but it’s a little different with you.”

“How’s it different with me?”

“I’ve known the others for ages, I don’t wanna miss them again and I know I won’t have to. Then you appeared and you could have just tagged along occasionally, as ‘that one friend of Orla’ or something, but I decided to make room for you, just because I like you that much and I don’t do that too often. Not because of some dumb loner reason but simply because it’s fucking hard to keep up with even only a handful of friends once you get older.”

Obviously feeling relieved about not being plain rejected, Patti couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh now. “Oh god, I know! All of a sudden we’re grown ups and have so much stuff to do. Honestly, I’m just tired most of the time!”

“Yeah, so am I! Hell, I’m tired now but when you’re around I usually at least forget about it.”

“Wow.” Patti breathed out, now overwhelmed by the meaning of Daryl’s words.

“Yeah. I mean, I was sceptic at first-”

“Huh. Like I don’t remember.”

“Yeah, but then you turned out to be one of the coolest people I ever met and... man, I don’t wanna miss you again, Pat. I like you. I really do. You’re funny and smart and... and bold... and I’d hate to see this blow apart just because I can’t keep my fuckin’ pants on.”

“You phrased that really beautifully, McKenna.”

“Honestly, you don’t know what it takes me to keep them on right now.”

“Well, I’m not telling you to keep them on?” Patti snickered.

“Okay, I will so remember you said that.” Daryl laughed. “No, Pat... guess all I’m trying to say is ... I dunno. Can we perhaps... just roll with it somehow? Not push it, not give it a name just yet? I dunno, I just wanna make sure that this is not just some weird flash in the pan, alright?”

“Wow, you really talk a lot when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” Daryl frowned.

“God, you’re so nervous."

(... to be continued!)

#patti #daryl #datti #I can't do words today so the polishing will happen at another time as usual #(she says this like she said it about all her other blurbs)#(blurbs that wait for their polishing to this very day xD)#(SUE ME Y'ALL)#anyhoo I love these two haha

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tcswritings · 4 years

Text

Feline tendencies.

Mick is adorable. Sometimes. On this particular lazy day in Spring 2013, his girlfriend finds him rather annoying, though.

***

Elsie held Grant’s gaze. He could feel her blue eyes pierce his soul and in this moment it felt like she could stare right down into the abyss of his mind and soul, and it was the first time he wished for her to just look away, to leave him alone, but he knew she wouldn’t do that. He knew her better.

Orla bit her lip and she felt her heartbeat racing up as she impatiently turned the page of the book, her eyes quickly wandering to the top of the next page.

‘Elsie…’ Grant began. ‘Please… please don’t look at me like that. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve being in the same room as you, let alone even looking at you.”

‘Grant…’ Elsie whispered as she took a shy step forward, reaching up and cradling his face in her hands. ‘I know you would never do anything to me.’

Grant closed his eyes and turned his head away from her. ‘I’m a monster.’

‘Don’t you dare saying that, Grant Williams. I am not giving you up. Not again, not after I just found you.’

‘How could you ever love me again after what you just saw?’

… and then, nothing.

Orla stared at the vacant place between both her hands where her copy of the newest installment of ‘My Dark Stranger’ - her current favourite book series - was supposed to be. She blinked twice before she eventually looked over to the other bedside where her boyfriend lay flat and lazy on his back, holding the book above his head and examining it from an arm’s length distance.

“I was reading that?!” she complained.

“Aye, guessed so.” Mick answered lazily.

“Give me my book back! I was just getting to the good part?!”

“Do ya have to read just now? I’m bored.” Mick dropped the book next to him on the floor (which was followed by an appalled gasp from Orla) and he lifted his head to look his girlfriend in the face and make pretty eyes at her.

Orla wasn’t having anything of it, though. “How’s that my problem?”

“Entertain me!”

“No, you big baby, I won’t entertain you. How can you even be bored?”

“What do I know, I just am?!” Mick groaned.

“We spent the entire morning with Declan, we walked town centre at least five times afterwards and it was you who said he wanted to go home, remember?”

“Aye, I said I wanted to go home but that didn’t mean that I wanna spend the afternoon watchin’ ya read?”

“You also said you had some things to do!”

“So?”

“So?!” Orla mocked. “Gimme my book back and do the things! Go! Have fun! Shoo!”

“Nah, I don’t wanna do the things. I’m starving.”

“How can you be starving, we had that mighty breakfast and even early lunch and that-”

“Of attention!” Mick interrupted in a hilariously dramatic manner.

“What the fuck?!” Orla cried out, not quite sure whether she should be mad or amused.

“Love me!” He held his long arms out to her.

“Are you high?”

“High on endorphines, aye.” He smiled up at her, batting his eyes.

Orla looked down at him for a few more moments, blinking and eventually shaking her head. “That’s it, you’re officially the weirdest person on earth and I still want my book back.” She determinedly crawled over her boyfriend, not really careful, bending over the edge of the bed to reach for her book on the floor.

“Ow, dammit!” Mick cried out but he was laughing, indicating that there was no actual harm done. “No, not the book! I put that away for a reason!”

“Elsie was just about to finally screw Grant again, you won’t ruin this for me!” Orla insisted but she grinned to herself, too. Mick could be annoying but he also had a huge talent for being absolutely adorable at the same time.

“Why would ya wanna read about people screwin’ when y’ can have that in reality?! Leave that dumb book be and come back up here!” Mick said as he flung his arms around Orla’s waist.

“Ugh, get your hands off me, you arse, I just wanna read! Aaaah!” Orla laughed as he finally managed to pull her on the other bedside again, now leaning over her so their faces were close.

“Don’t you have other things to do?” she eventually asked.

“Nope. Just you.”

Orla smirked. “Huh. That’s awfully cocky for someone who’s not in the position to put up a fight?!”

“I don’t mean ta fight? Quite the opposite, actually.” Mick smiled, gently stroking her head.

(… to be continued. Maybe.)

#orla #mick #orla x mick

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tcswritings · 4 years

Text

Girl talk.

Patti has something on her mind. Or, better said, someone. Orla is surprised.

***

Patti looked across the pub where Daryl sat with Mick, apparently caught up in a conversation about… Patti couldn’t make out what it was about, as they were too far away, but judging by their expressions alone it had to be a light subject. Mick was currently talking, using hand and feet, as he always did, and Daryl seemed to be amused by the things his friend was telling him and Patti just realised once more how much she enjoyed looking at his face these days.

Keeping her thought in mind, she turned left on her seat, looking at Orla who was frantically raiding the large handbag on her lap.

“Orla?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you for an honest opinion?” Patti asked.

“Yeah, of course?” Orla answered, not even looking up.

“Okay, uhm.” Patti paused, thinking of a good way to phrase the question she was about to ask but she eventually decided to be blunt. “Say… what do you think of Daryl?”

The question seemed to catch Orla’s full attention as she now looked up from her bag, obviously startled by the unexpected subject. “Huh?”

“You heard me! What do you think of him?” Patti repeated her question.

Orla raised an eyebrow. “Uh … I couldn’t possibly put all my thoughts about Daryl into only a few proper words.” she said dryly.

Patti rolled her eyes. “Don’t be like that now, just answer me.”

“He’s my friend, he’s a fine fella. When he isn’t busy being a total moron, that is.” Orla shrugged and turned back to her handbag. “Where’s that goddamn fucking lighter, I still had it earlier.” she grumbled into her bag.

Patti bit her lip and nodded. She let a few moments pass before she spoke again. “Yeah, well. No, I mean… more like, uh… what do you- I mean, do you think he’s good-looking?“

“What?!” Orla looked back up at her friend and blinked. “Patti, what the fuck? What is that about?”

“It’s a simple question!”

“No, it’s not, it’s more like- wait, what?” Orla gasped. “Oh god. Not you, too! Patti, if you’re about to suggest that I should hook up with him at some point, I SWEAR-”

“I’m not going to do that!” Patti felt a little rush of irritation jolting through her body but she shrugged it off. “I just wanna know what you think of him.” Because… I dunno. I think he’s…” She paused and looked across the room at Daryl again who had just burst into laughter. She cocked her head and pursed her lips. “… I think he’s kinda hot, actually?”

“What?! I mean…” Squinting, Orla followed her friend’s gaze and cocked her head as well, looking at her redheaded friend across the room. She frowned. “Hot? Daryl? Our Daryl?”

“No, the other one.”

“We don’t know another Daryl?”

“You don’t say, silly.”

“Okay, but where is this even comin’ from? Patti, seriously, what are you on about?”

“Nothing, I’m just making conversation. We talk about guys all the time!”

“Yeah, about the guys we date?! Or want to date? Like… Ronan? The guy you are dating… in case you forgot that, over your new, uh, fairly disturbing obsession with Daryl?!”

“I am not obsessed with Daryl and I know I’m dating Ronan, but we’re not, like, exclusive just yet. And even if we were, I can still find other guys attractive?!”

“Yeah, but not Daryl, come on.”

“Why not? He has amazing eyes! And, I mean, I’m not really into ginger guys but that red mane really makes him stand out!”

“Patti… please. What kinda stuff have you been smoking lately?!”

“Rude?!” Patti gasped.

“I’ve been friends with Daryl since elementary school, I don’t think about him that way? Saying that he’s hot or something like that would feel like saying, dunno… that Declan is hot.”

“Ah, well, now that you mention him, Declan is kind of hot?” Patti shrugged.

“Hey, why don’t you just tell Ronan about all this on your next date, I’m sure he’ll love the subject.”

“Ah, don’t be silly now. I don’t fancy anyone. Can’t you just push that ‘friends for ages’ argument aside for a second and concentrate on looks only?” Patti pleaded. “I mean, you’re friends with Mick, too, and that somehow never stands in your way when it comes to makin’ comments about how good he looks?”

Orla sighed. “That’s entirely different! Mick is- I mean, I was in love with him. Once you cross that line, you kinda can’t go back. He’ll always be gorgeous to me.“

“Granted, I don’t see Daryl as a GQ cover type of guy either but he’s really… striking? In a way?”

Orla sighed again. “Well, since you’re not gonna let it go… he ain’t a total loss?”

“Oh, ouch!”

“Oh god, he really just isn’t my type at all, okay?” Orla rolled her eyes. “He isn’t bad looking, I guess, but honestly, that’s all I can give you here! Patti, just tell me already what this is about, okay?”

“This isn’t about anything in particular! I’m just gettin’ used to spending more time with y’all and I’m only appreciating looks? Like you never play these things through in your head?”

“Oh believe me, I play many things through in my head but my fantasies never involve friends. Well, okay, except for Mick, I guess. I mean, back then. I’d never do that nowadays, especially not with Mina around.” Orla said, rolling her eyes again.

“Will you ever stop saying her name like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re talking about some gross insect.”

“I wasn’t doing that?” Orla protested. “But honestly. I mean, what kind of name is Mina even, huh?!”

“What kind of name is Orla?”

“HEY!”

“I’m sorry, I just think you’re being really silly about it and the only explanation I have is that you might be at least a little jealous.” Patti shrugged.

“Look who’s talking? Miss ‘I’m just making conversation’? Since when have you been fantasizing about Daryl anyway? Just in case you thought we were done with that part of the conversation. We’re so not.” Orla crossed her arms now and shot her friend a challenging look.

“I am not fantasizing. As I said, I am just appreciating looks here, like the superficial human being I am.”

“Yeah, right.” Orla snorted. “Hey, now that I think of it, you guys have been getting along awfully amazing lately? Always sitting here and snickering over stuff together? Hmm?”

Patti could feel the colour rushing up her cheeks.

Shit.

(…to be continued!)

#patti #orla #daryl #datti

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tcswritings · 4 years

Text

Biochemistry.

Patti waits for Orla in the Dirty Deed and finds herself in the company of another friend.

***

6:32.

‘Two more hours.’ Patti thought to herself as she pushed open the weather-beaten green door, carefully stepping into the pub and unbuttoning her coat on her way in. Warmth came towards her, as well as murmur and friendly laughter and chit chat and all of it made her smile.

Patti had liked the little pub from the first moment on. For some reason, everything here felt familiar and the owner, Rosamund (albeit giving off a rather feisty vibe on first glance) radiated a warmth that she had never experienced before, at least not from anyone who wasn’t her own mother. The Dirty Deed felt like home, and Patti could understand just fine why Orla and her friends loved to spend a lot of their free time here. She had been rather excited herself when Orla had suggested earlier that they could meet up here for a drink before they would eventually hit up the theatre.

Unfortunately, Orla was still on her way home from the tattoo studio and she was stuck in traffic. She had called when Patti was already almost at the pub which meant that she would spend a while here all by herself, which was still new, and Patti couldn’t help but feel a little nervous although she knew that it was silly. She still hoped that she would get one of the seats at the bar so she could at least talk to Rosamund a little.

“Hello!” she called at the barkeeper, a little shy but with a smile, as she stepped through the archway. Rosamund turned around and when she recognised her, she smiled right back.

“Oh why hello, dear! Come in!” she greeted her new guest. Patti felt how the tension left her body and she smiled a little wider as she now approached the bar.

“You look frozen, dear. What can I get you?” Rosamund asked but before Patti could answer, the barkeeper looked into another direction, pursing her lips before making a little face of disapproval.

Patti followed her gaze, curious about what had caused that miffed little expression, and she squinted a little before she eventually spotted Mick and Mina in one of the booths to her right.

Well, at least she assumed it was the two, as it was hardly possible to see their faces. She could merely make out a tall and slim figure with a mop of light blonde hair, tied back in a messy ponytail, who had his hands all over a petite brunette sitting in his lap and it seemed as if the two were determined to never catch a bit of breath again.

“Good gracious.” Patti’s eyes went wide.

“They’ve been doin’ that for the past hour, more or less.” Rosamund grumbled. “I mean, I get it, it’s young love, it’s exciting, it’s sexy and all but what those two are doin’ over there is nothin’ short of what happens in those movies-”

“Get a fuckin’ room, you arseholes!” a somewhat familiar, husky voice from the other side of the bar interrupted and both Patti and Rosamund simultaneously turned their heads.

A bespectacled young man with long and messy red hair was glaring directly at the booth where Mick and Mina couldn’t leave their hands off each other. Daryl’s expression was just as crabby as Rosamund’s and Patti had to bite her lip to prevent herself from laughing at the sight of the two and her urge to giggle got even worse when she saw that Mick merely held out his long arm to the bar, showing Daryl his middle finger, not even bothering to look his way, as he was still preoccupied with his girlfriend, apparently not intending to change that in the foreseeable future.

“Oy, you little shit!” Rosamund hissed as she swiftly grabbed a wet cloth from under the bar and flung it at her niece and her sassy boyfriend.

Whow. Patti blinked in surprise. Any time she had been to the Dirty Deed has been pure entertainment and today was no exception.

The cloth did the trick - it hit both Mick and Mina in their faces with a little splat!, causing the two to jump apart immediately. Some murmur went through the pub as other guests turned around now, chuckling at the scene. Rosamund smiled with grim statisfaction and Daryl let out a rather dirty cackle.

“What the fuck, Rose!” Mick cried out, wiping his face with his hand, while Mina gingerly picked up the cloth from the wooden table with two fingers, giggling at it’s sight. “Eeew.” she laughed, her mood apparently not affected in the slightest.

“You two either do what Grumpy McSmartarse over there just said or you stay but behave from now on! This isn’t a whorehouse!” Rosamund barked. “And don’t you dare throwing that fuckin’ cloth back at me!” she warned when she saw that Mick snatched the cloth out of Mina’s hand with a determined movement.

“We’re sorry!” Mina gave in with another giggle and she placed her hand on Mick’s hand that was still holding the wet cloth. “We’ll behave, of course!”

“Fine!” Rosamund nodded. “That’s what you said an hour ago, but alright.” she added quietly, more to herself, and she eventually looked back at Patti. “I’m sorry, dear. Didn’t mean to be rude. What can I get you, now?”

“Uhm, just a Ginger Ale.” Patti ordered, still a bit thrown off guard by the unexpected scene.

“Comin’ right up. Go and sit down somewhere, c’mon!” Rosamund encouraged as she pulled a clean glass from under the bar.

“Hey Pat, come over!” Patti now heard Daryl call. “You got better sight at the two idiots from here.”

Patti shrugged and tottered to the other side of the bar, taking the seat next to Daryl. “I don’t know if I wanna see that, to be honest.”

“Ah, it’s fun, actually. Rose and that guy over there at the tap have been dubbing them for the past hour, it was hilarious.”

Patti laughed and she thanked Rosamund when she brought over her drink. While she took a sip, her eyes wandered to the notes and books that Daryl had spread on the bar in front of him. “What’s all that?” she asked curiously, putting her glass a bit further away from the paper sheets as a precaution.

“Oh, just some, uh, stuff.”

“Principles of Biochemistry With a Human Focus.” Patti read one of the books’ headline out loud. “What on earth...?”

“Just tryin’ to educate myself a little further.” Daryl shrugged as he took off his reading glasses and started gathering together his notes, putting them all on a pile next to him.

“It’s 7 PM and it’s Friday... other people use that time to go and see a movie or somethin’ like that, y’know?”

“Is that so?”

“Mh-hm.” Patti nodded and smiled. “Orla and I are gonna go and watch ‘It’ again later. You wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ll pass. Got plans.”

“Oh, you have a date?”

“With Biochemistry, yeah.” Daryl smiled.

“Come on!”

“It’s really not as boring as it sounds. Besides, I’m doin’ a tutorial on Monday and I gotta prepare some stuff before tomorrow. That’s when I go out, y’know.”

“So you do have a date!” Patti beamed.

“Yeah, with that overgrown creep over there!” Daryl nodded towards the booth in which Mick and Mina were now behaving in an exemplary manner, at least for the time being. “When he can stand being away from her for an evening, that is.”

“Wait, what, you don’t like Mina?”

“Hardly know her.” Daryl shrugged. “She’s nice, I guess. It’s just - I dunno.”

“It’s what?”

“Uh. Let’s just say I’m a bit, uh... concerned.”

“Why?”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, not important. Anyway, we have that concert comin’ up tomorrow. I’ll be damned if Mina likes that kind of music, so I guess it’s just gonna be the two of us. Unless you wanna come, in case the two can’t part.” He looked at Patti and smiled.

“It’s one of those weird bands with some guy screaming in pain again, right?”

“Maybe.” Daryl laughed.

“Ugh.” Patti made a face and shook her head. “As long as it’s not Jason Derulo, Billie Eilish or Florence, I’ll pass.”

“Jason Who?!”

“Not your jam, don’t worry.” She took another sip from her Ginger Ale. “Hey, what did you mean when you said that you’re concerned?”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Ah, it’s nothing. I dunno. Okay.” He made a little pause. “It’s all going so fast? It’s been merely a month and she already pretty much fuckin’ lives at his place!”

Patti let out a perplexed little laugh. “That’s it? That’s what you’re worried about? Oh god! Come on, you know what it’s like to be in love. The first few months are pure heaven, you can hardly part ways and when you do, you already miss the other one the minute they leave you.”

“Really now. Sounds, uh... pathetic, actually.” Daryl scoffed.

“What?” Patti blinked in disbelief. “What are you talking about? It’s just the way these things are! I mean, you have been there, right?”

Daryl looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’ve been there?”

“Wait. You’re not tellin’ me that - you never -”

“No, never.”

“No way. You must have been in love at some point?! You never met a, dunno, cute science girl or so?”

“Couldn’t you think of a better cliché?” Daryl groaned.

Patti rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I’ve actually had a cute science girl once.”

“There you go? And?”

“Spent some amazing nights with her. Wasn’t in love with her, though. ”

“Daryl, that’s sad.” Patti blurted out.

“Psh. Why? Because I didn’t turn into that guy over there?” Daryl pointed at Mick again. “I’m sure I’m not missing out. Hey, you do know that it’s all just chemicals in your brain goin’ wild anyway, right?!”

“So? It still feels great?” Patti smiled.

“Whatever. This is not about me. Thing is... okay, how am I supposed to say it without sounding like an arsehole?”

“Just say it? I’ll try not to think of you as an arsehole, I promise.”

“Mick is stupid.”

“Wow, ouch. Arsehole!”

Daryl laughed. “Ah no, not stupid, y’know, as in ‘dumb’? He just doesn’t think shit through. He’s gaga. That’s it, that’s the word. Gaga. And he’s even more gaga when he’s driven by hormones.”

“Everyone is gaga when driven by hormones.”

“Yeah, right, maybe, but you haven’t known him for as long as I have. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you all this anyway... whatever, I think he’s just one breath away from going mental.”

“What?” Patti frowned and looked at Mick again. “He looks perfectly happy to me?”

“No! No, you don’t get it. It’s not about here and now.” Daryl sighed and he paused. “If he takes one more blow to the heart, he’ll crack. I don’t want him to crack.”

“Maybe he won’t. Maybe the two are good for each other. Only time can tell.” Patti shrugged.

“Whatever you say, Pat. I’ll stick to what I said. He should get some shit in order before the two go off and pick wedding decorations.” Daryl crossed his arms, resembling a schoolboy who just got punished with detention.

Patti snorted. “I think you should stick to Biochemistry. You’re paranoid and cranky.”

“Huh. That be it, then.”

“I’m sorry. I’m cheeky.”

“Yup. You better stay that way, it’s fun.” Daryl smiled.

(... to be continued!)

#patti #daryl #writing these two is fun?!?!#I also HIGHLY enjoy the thought of mick and mina getting on everyone's nerves with their crap #orla will soon come in and voice her opinion lol #looking forward to writing THAT lol #I'm also living for feisty rosamund #I missed throwing out these blurbs :D

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Friends.

Declan and Mick, some drinks, a heavy subject and, finally, a reconciliation.

***

“Can I get ya anythin’ else, Sir?”

The young and cheerful waitress, armed with pen and paper, cocked her head a little and she put on a bright smile, ready to get him anything he wanted, but Declan once again shook his head.

“No, thank you!” he replied politely.

It was the second time she had asked him whether he wanted anything else than just a drink and Declan could read her bewildered expression quite well: How am I supposed to be a good server when service is denied? The girl was really young, eighteen at most, and she had probably just started training or maybe she was even still at school, trying to earn some extra money after class.

School... how easy life had been when they had all still been students. Declan’s mind drifted off again but only for a few moments until the girly voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I can go back and get ya our menu with the specials? Maybe ya just need a lil’ inspiration, eh? Just take a look, ya might find somethin' that strikes your-”

“No!” Feeling that he might have interrupted her a little harshly, Declan smiled at the girl, glancing at the little nameplate over her chest. “No, thank you... Rosalie. I’m waitin’ for someone, I’ll order later if that’s okay with you.”

Rosalie cocked her head again and she eventually sighed and shrugged, putting her little stationery as well as her pen back into the little pocket of her apron. “Fine with me? Just do a little wave or somethin’, and I’ll be right back!”

“Thank you!”

Declan appreciated the young girl’s enthusiasm and kindness but he didn’t feel like talking to anyone just right now. He nervously looked around the little diner and while he really missed the familiarity of The Dirty Deed, he had figured that it would be for the better to do this on neutral ground, without any inquisitive eyes around them.

He checked his phone for the time and realised that Mick was a little late. That wasn’t unusual - he had always been a somewhat confused soul. They both were - Declan was well aware of his own chaos - but Mick had this special kind of absentmindedness that could both be endearing and irritating but when he thought back to all the situations caused by said absentmindedness now, Declan merely smiled to himself. He had never fully realised how much he had liked Mick’s little quirks until he had decided to be no longer a part of his life.

It has been six very long months at this point. Far too long, Declan thought, but he was hoping that the situation might change for the better today.

About five minutes later - just when he pondered the idea of waving Rosalie over anyway - the diner’s door opened, causing the little doorbell to happily chime, eagerly announcing the new guest and when Declan spotted the familiar figure walking in, he could feel the little lump in his throat growing bigger. He swallowed hard, feeling even more nervous than before and his mind suddenly worked hard to come up with the weirdest thoughts.

What if he’s in one of his weird moods? What if he pulls me right over the table and knocks me out?

Nah, don’t be ridiculous, he has already kind of done that, remember? It just ain’t that much fun the second time.

But what if he doesn’t listen anyway? What if he only comes here to enjoy the sight of me being in agony?

Oh come on, don’t be an arsehole again. He’s not a sociopath. Even if he still hates you, he cares about Ash. Give him more credit already!

Fine. I’ll just wait and see, I guess.

Wise decision.

Declan was so caught up in his thoughts that, when he looked back up, he had lost sight of Mick but his confusion didn’t last terribly long - his former friend just slumped into the seat across from the little table between them, shrugging off some of the cold from outside when he took off his jacket, tossing it on the empty chair next to both of them, on top of Declan’s.

Oh god, what do I even say now? I think I’m panicking. Quick, mind, come up with something to say! Something smart. Hurry! I can’t just say hi, that’s too-

“So.” Mick interrupted his thoughts, putting his forearms to the armrests of the chair, shooting him a challenging glance. He looked different than the last time Declan had seen him - less neat, the most notable change being his unusually long light hair - it had grown out to almost shoulder length.

Declan thought that he looked a bit like a deranged elf and he found the thought oddly amusing although the situation wasn’t funny at all. Looking closer, he couldn’t help but feel that Mick’s deranged-elf version looked a wee bit menacing but that was probably just his own perception, because in this moment he felt utterly terrible for everything he had ever done to him, that he had every right to look at him like he did, and it was the moment when he eventually understood that this hasn’t been about a woman between them in a long time.

This was about them - two grown up men and formerly best friends - having grown apart somewhere on their way, neither of them really knowing why and when it had happened and Declan realised that, whatever the outcome of today might be, things would never be like they used to be again, either way.

“Uhm.” Declan swallowed again, frantically searching for the last bit of his confidence but it had probably bolted once Mick had entered the diner... whatever.

“Ya look like shit, y’know.” Mick cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

Ouch. Well, at least it doesn’t look like he’s gonna kick my arse.

“Yup, I know. I thought I’d make my appearance match my mood.”

“Hm!” Mick pursed his lips now, giving him a little nod of approval. “Kinda worked.”

“Thank you!”

It was so odd - they had only exchanged a few words at this point, not even the nicest of all words, and Declan had already cheered up heaps. Just having Mick sit here with him felt like such a relief, even though he didn’t know whether they would ever find a way to become friends again.

When Mick didn’t say anything for a while, Declan could no longer hold it in.

“The hell is goin’ on up there, man?” he asked, tipping a finger to his own head, referring to the new look that Mick presented today - he was usually really fussy about his appearance and he always made sure to wear his hair in some neat ‘do but nothing was left of that today.

When Mick realised what Declan was talking about, his eyes went wide in disbelief. “Yer not seriously talkin’ about my hair now, are you?”

“Nah, I just think it’s-”

“What?”

“Woah, don’t gimme the death glare now, I was just saying-”

“Shut up.”

“But-”

“No!”

“Kurt Cobain would be proud!?”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry!” Declan cried out. “I just wasn’t prepared for that sight, that’s all!”

Mick made a face and casually crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “Look who’s talkin’, man. You look like y' just crawled outta the next dump.”

“Yeah, but I’m depressed!”

There was a pause. The banter was over, the ice was broken, Declan could feel it.

“Aye, I bet y’are.” Mick merely said after a few moments and Declan could literally watch him lowering his guard a little. There were a few more moments of silence before Mick went on. “So, it’s, really... y’know...?”

“Yeah. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia, or something like that.”

“Well, shit.”

Declan nodded. “It’s still in an early stage, as it seems. They’re running a few more tests these days, chances of recovery are good but still...”

“It’s a huge pile o’ shit.”

“Yeah. I mean, he still has to go through treatment hell, man. Chemotherapy, radiation... I don’t even wanna think about it.”

Mick merely looked at him, biting his lip. There was concern in his eyes, it was obvious, it was genuine and Declan took it as a silent encouragement to go on.

“I feel sick when I think about it. I mean, I know you’ve seen some hospitals from the inside but have you ever been to a pediatric cancer ward?”

“No.” Mick shook his head.

“That’s the most depressing shit I’ve ever seen. The only way I can picture my kid is happy and healthy. I don’t think I can handle that, man. I know I have to but I don’t know how. I feel so goddamn fuckin’ useless.”

A few more moments of silence until Mick cleared his throat. “I, uhm. I dunno what to say, to be honest.” He looked down to his folded hands on the table.

Declan smiled a faint smile, actually appreciating the fact that Mick was lost for words as he had quite a few people coming up to him within the past few days, people he had met in the hospital only minutes ago at the time, people who didn’t even know him and who felt the need to tell him to “think positive” or that “everything will turn out just fine” and while he knew that they didn’t mean any harm, quite the opposite even, they had still made him want to snap some of their bones, preferably one for each empty word they had uttered.

Today wasn’t about random people with useless advice, though. It was about winning back a lifetime friend. Declan took a deep breath.

“Look, man, I can’t undo what I did, okay? I want to. So bad. You have no idea. This is not me trying to pull at your heartstrings or something but... please stick around for a while, okay? ”

“Dipso-”

The use of his old nickname surprised Declan a little but he couldn’t be sure if it was really a good sign, so he went on.

“No, honestly - I’m begging you. You don’t even have to do this for me, y’know. Do it for him, okay? Because for some weird reason that kid loves you. Personally, I can’t think of any reason why but he does. Just... consider it for a bit. It’s all about him.” Declan could feel his voice trembling so he stopped right there.

The voices in his head had long stopped making silly noise, too, as they were now tense with fearful anticipation.

It was the moment. I hope he still knows that this is our way of saying that we miss him and want him back.

Mick shot Declan an uninterpretable glance before he let out a little sigh. “Y'know what? I’m starvin’. What about you?”

Okay, what the hell? What is wrong with this man? I thought we were having a moment here!

“Erm, wh- I- what?” Declan blinked.

“I can‘t stick around while I’m starvin’, man!”

“You’re enjoying this, aren‘t you?” Declan grumbled but he wasn’t mad at all.

“A bit?” Mick smiled. “Sorry.”

Declan smiled back briefly before he realised that he was hungry.

“Actually... now that you mentioned it, I could eat? My appetite hasn’t been grand lately but right now...?”

“Right. Food, then.” Mick looked around the diner. “Are actual people workin’ here or what?”

“Yeah, wait, I got this.” Declan said as he looked around the place, too, and when he found the person he was looking for, he raised his arm.

“Hey, Rosalie!”

***

(... to be continued.)

#declan #mick #just a little thing that came to my mind #looking forward to writing the 'main part' of this #I really love when these boys aren't silly idiots for once #will also edit and polish at some point #I hope I can continue it very very soon #and all the other blurbs as well #ONE DAY I'LL HAVE THEM ALL FINISHED!#the title is still to be changed #I need to think of a better one but it's 1 am and I wanna sleep lol

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Fate and fortune.

When Mick can’t get Mina, the fortune teller, out of his head the day after he met her, he decides to get a little support from a friend.

***

“I still can’t believe I’m up at this time on a Sunday.” Daryl groaned as he and Mick slendered past the colourful booths and trailers, breathing in the smell of roasted almonds and cotton candy. “Have you ever heard of ‘sleeping in’, man?”

“Aye, but you were so pissed ‘cause you couldn’t come yesterday, so I thought you might wanna join me today.” Mick replied cheerfully as the two now made their way through a little crowd of excited children, careful to not step on any little feet.

“Yesterday was Saturday!” Daryl moaned. “I would’ve hit up some beer cart, get pissed and have a great time, knowing I wouldn’t have to be at work the next day.”

“You have a serious problem, man. Try and enjoy yerself for once without a drop of booze or whatever-the-fuck-you’re-on-at-the-time some day, aye?”

“Yeah, maybe just stick your holier-than-though attitude up your arse, ‘cause if I remember correctly, you were pretty into whatever-the-fuck-I’m-on when-”

“Not the point.” Mick smiled lazily.

“My life is hard, Mick.” Daryl sighed dramatically. “Damn kids at university make me realise that I’m gettin’ old.”

“Yer twenty-six, hardly older than all of them. And I’m takin’ a wild guess here, maybe, but I think it’s yer hangover that makes you feel old right now.”

“It’s not a hangover!” Daryl sounded appalled. “I was at work yesterday, mind you. Only had a few beers with colleagues afterwards. You just don’t understand what it feels like not to be healthy and in shape like you are.”

“You’re cranky. Stop that, it ruins my mood.” Mick smiled to himself, his friend’s whining amused him greatly.

“It’s Sunday morning, what else could I be but cranky?” Daryl moaned as he looked around the place. “Where are we heading at, anyway?”

“Ah, nowhere. Just lookin’ around, y’know.” Mick shrugged and put his hands into his pockets.

“Nah, you’re not, you’re looking for something.”

“What makes ya think so?”

“You’re not even really looking at anything? You seem awfully determined.” Daryl nagged.

“Okay, I’m lookin’ for somethin’ then. Better said, someone. Here, wait.” Mick stopped right next to a little coffee cart and reached into the pocket of his jeans for his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a piece of pale pink paper, handing it to Daryl who unfolded it, read it and drew his eyebrows together.

“What’s this? Who’s Mina?”

“A fortune teller at this fair.” Mick replied a little absent-mindedly, as his eyes now wandered around the fairground.

“That raises a lot more questions than it answers, man.”

“What? Oh, yeah.” Mick snatched the note out of Daryl’s fingers again. “Declan had a funny moment yesterday and he dragged me into this fortune teller’s trailer.”

“What the hell?” Daryl raised an eyebrow. Declan wasn’t exactly known for believing in the fine arts of divination.

“Aye, that’s what I thought. Anyway, kinda expected some wrinkled old eerie hag inside, yanno, but she was young and cute. We talked, she told me some really weird things about myself and when we went back out, I found that paper in my pocket.”

“You wooed a fortune teller? Okay, that’s kind of cool? What weird things did she tell you about yourself that you didn’t know yet?”

“I’ll be damned if I know, didn‘t get half of it, to be honest, but the note says she wants to see me again and-”

“Wait. Are you saying that you’re taking me on a DATE with you?!” Daryl’s eyes went wide. “Mick, what the fuck?”

"It’s not a date!?”

“Oh god, do I really have to tell you how fucked up that is?!”

Mick rolled his eyes at his friend. “It’s not a date!”

“I wanna go back to bed!”

“It’s not a date, Daryl, just hear me out!”

“Do you need a chaperon for your first date? What the hell, why-”

“It’s not. a. date! ” Mick repeated impatiently. “I mean, there might be one, maybe but-”

“But you thought you’d take me first and... well, do what exactly?!”

“Do nothing. This is not a date and you’re not supposed to be a chaperon.”

“So you’re just taking me to randomly look at some hot woman or what?”

“You don’t even know what she looks like?”

“Oh c’mon, I know she’s hot. You always get the hot ones.” Daryl shrugged and crossed his arms, looking up and shooting his friend a challenging look.

“I didn’t get anyone. That's not what this is about.”

“Is it that you saw her in twilight yesterday and now you wanna make sure she’s also hot during daylight before you ask her out?”

“What, Daryl-”

“ And when she’s not, you’re gonna introduce her to me?”

Squinting in disgust and also lost for words a little, Mick looked down at his friend. “You. are. sick."

“No, you. are. weird. Bringing me along to your dates now - yeah, yeah I know, it’s not a date. Just tell me already what I’m doing here, Michael!”

“Okay, alright!” Mick rolled his eyes. “Well, uhm. That’s a bit- well. Okay, I promise that it ain’t gonna be weird or so, just come an’ look at her for a bit, maybe?”

“Why?” Daryl shrugged. “You want a stamp of approval? I’m sure she’s smart and beautiful, they all are.”

“Exactly!”

At this point, Daryl was completely lost. “Okay, now you’re no longer making sense. Not that you ever do but-”

“That’s exactly the point, man! A smart and beautiful woman slips me a note, askin’ to see me again.”

“So...?”

“I can’t handle that. Y’ know my dating history is fucked up. It’s too much. I shut down, I need help.”

“Oh wow, so... basics, eh? Alright, when a girl and a boy like each other, they sometimes-”

“Daryl.” Mick sighed, closing his eyes in exasperation.

“Oh my god, sorry, I just can’t believe that you’re being so... I mean, are you trying to tell me that you’re...”

“Am what?”

“You’re insecure?! About a situation that’s so plain simple?”

“Hell yeah, of course I’m fuckin’ insecure!?”

“I don’t believe it.” Daryl let out a baffled laugh. “Elvenlike, six-foot-five pretty boy Mick O’Loughlin is insecure.”

“This ain’t about looks, man. It’s about...well, this.” Mick wiggled the note between his fingers. “When do things like that ever happen, eh? They certainly don’t happen to me? You know that. It’s a spoof, it must be. She’s a stunner and she was nice. What would she want with me? Huh? Maybe she was just takin’ a piss outta me yesterday!”

Daryl shot his friend a confused look. “Why would she? I mean, what reason could she even have?”

“I dunno! That’s the point, I don’t get women! Just come with me for five minutes, say hi and later tell me if ya think she looked genuinely interested or not. Can’t risk and judge the situation all by myself. I’m stupid. Ya know I’m stupid!”

“Well? You’re kinda giving off some really pathetic teenager vibes right now, I’ll give you that?”

“Aye, I know! How could I not? I can’t see any reason why any gal would do such a thing with me, okay?”

“Mick, what the fuck, that’s- that’s so sad, man.” Daryl sighed. “Maybe just think about it for a bit. She managed to slip a note into the pocket of your jeans without you noticing. That takes guts and some effort. Of course she’s interested!”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah! Besides, it’s usually you who’s good at reading body language. What’s wrong, are you broken or something?

“Somethin’ like that, aye?”

Mick let out a heavy breath, his eyes still wide in panic and Daryl realised that his friend was genuinely freaking out. There was a little pause and that’s when he understood.

To say he was truly broken was probably quite an overstatement but after all that happened to him in regards to dating matters, it was probably just a logical consequence that Mick felt as anxious as he did. Daryl still didn’t quite get behind the self-doubts but if it made his friend feel better, he would do him the favour, that was out of question.

“You like her, then?” he eventually asked.

“I dun’ know her but I liked the way she talked to me? Little weird, sure, but sweet. And she read my palm and what she read wasn’t all to bad, apparently, ‘cause she didn’t throw me outta her house. Uh, trailer, I mean, I dunno if she actually lives in that thing?”

“Makes sense.” Daryl nodded, suppressing a laugh. “Just one more thing. Taking me on this expedition and not, let’s say, Orla or someone who actually knows something about women... you’re desperate, huh?”

“Orla is busy with that weirdo Pete, Jessie is spending the weekend with Ann and I’m kinda fuckin’ desperate, aye.”

“I’m the last resort.” Daryl closed his eyes and put his hand over his heart. “I’m swooning with friendship feelings.”

“Nah, I’d still prefer ya over Declan in those matters, if that’s any consolation?”

“Yeah, he’s the worst, I gotta give myself that credit.”

“And hey, I don’t plan to go on any date today so we can later see him and Ash in the hospital and maybe hit up Rosamund’s afterwards.”

“Now we’re talking.” Daryl nodded again and gave Mick a pat on his shoulder. “Okay, I’m in. Let’s go and look at your lady and pretend we’re just passing by.”

Mick closed his eyes and let out a relieved sigh, putting his hands together and bowing slightly. “Thanks.”

“Hey, if you blow this again, can I have her?”

“Not funny.”

“Too soon? Sorry. C’mon, let’s find her.”

***

Mina Malone sat in her rocking chair on the little front porch of her mother’s old trailer. It had just started raining, just a little, but the large and colourful parasol that was fitted to the porch’s railing served her as reliable rain protection and the slight breeze made the little windbells over the trailer’s entrance door chime and the lovely sound of it as well as the soothing bickering of the raindrops made Mina feel very content and peaceful. She had always liked the rain and it’s sound, and she could never quite comprehend why most people avoided going outside on a rainy day while it could be so refreshing.

Of all seasons, Mina had always loved autumn most and there was a chance that her favourite time of the year could even get a little more exciting this year than she had anticipated so far. Her mind wandered back to the handsome stranger who had visited her trailer yesterday, together with his friend. Smiling to herself, she turned the page of the magazine she was reading, wondering if he had already found her note. He must have; she had made sure to slip it into the pocket where he kept his cigarettes. (Unless he had made the decision to quit smoking the moment he left, but Mina highly doubted it.)

While his friend seemed to be of the loud and attention-seeking kind, the young man she had laid her eyes on striked her as unassuming, quiet and thoughtful, despite his impressive stature. He was very tall and lean and he had an unusual, handsome face and the colour of his eyes was out of this world. She wondered whether he was aware of his charisma. Probably not; he seemed generally confused when she addressed him; as if he was used to people going for his outspoken friend first, which she couldn’t comprehend at all. Not to say that the friend left a bad impression but it was certainly not him who had drawn her right in.

A man’s husky voice interrupted Mina’s thoughts.

“Excuse me? Miss? Are you the hot fortune teller?”

“Daryl, what the fuck?” another man’s voice hissed. A slightly deeper, fuller voice which startled her - she had heard the voice and the accent not too long ago.

Frowning, Mina looked up from her magazine and turned her head. She spotted two tall figures standing several metres away from her trailer, huddling together under a black umbrella and expectantly looking up at her. One of the two had an unruly mane of bright red hair and he was all clad in black and when she eventually recognised the other man, her heart skipped a beat.

It was him. Her green-eyed stranger from yesterday.

Thank you, fate, I owe you big time!

Trying to hide her excitement, Mina put her magazine away and stood up from her chair. When she leaned on the porch’s reiling, she smiled down at the two. “Who wants to know?”

“I do! Oh, and I brought back your boyfriend!” the redhead pointed to his friend, who closed his eyes in what seemed to be embarrassment.

“Oh my god.” he groaned and Mina had to swallow down a laugh.

He looked just as adorable as she remembered him.

“Well, I am a fortune teller!” she eventually said. “Not sure about the ‘hot’, though.”

“Well, I was brought here to confirm that you are.” the redhead nodded, and he held up his hand, his thumb and index finger forming an ‘O’ which earned him a firm slap to the back of his head from his friend.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Handsome Stranger hissed.

“Ow, what? Isn’t that why you brought me here in first place-”

“You were supposed to look, not fuckin’ talk!”

“I always talk, what exactly made you think this would be an exception?”

Mina crossed her arms in amusement as she watched the two guys banter for a while until she decided to chime in again. She leaned forward on the reiling.

“Can I help you two with something, maybe?” she beamed. “Some palm reading? Tarot cards? Meditation? I’m not so good with crystal balls, but they’re not reliable anyway. Too foggy.”

The ginger man laughed at the remark but Handsome Stranger still seemed reluctant.

“I dunno, I just kinda-” He paused, apparently at a loss of how to go on.

“You just kinda came by to say hello?” Mina suggested with a warm, inviting smile, leaning a little further over the reiling.

He smiled back. “Aye, I guess?”

“You could’ve called? I left you my number. In a really old-school manner that I’m very proud of, by the way.”

“Aye, I know. It’s just that...” Handsome Stranger bit his lip and looked over to his friend, then back up at her. “Uhm. Don’t- please don‘t make me explain that.”

How cute can someone even be? “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m happy you’re here! You two want a drink? I just made some tea!”

“Actually,” the redhead said, “I still have a few things to do.” He turned to his friend. “How about I go and see Declan and we meet in the bar later this evening?”

“I dunno, I said I would join you-”

“Mick, I am being your best friend in the world right now. Don’t be stupid.” The ginger friend smiled and reached up to give her stranger - Mick - an encouraging pat on the back. “Later then! ‘t was a pleasure, Miss Mina!” he called up at her before he snatched the umbrella out of Mick’s hand, waved the two goodbye and took off.

Mina and Mick looked after him for a few moments and when he eventually turned around again, Mick let out an apologetic sigh.

“I’m sorry, he’s a bit of a, uh... a bit of a weirdo.”

“He seems kind of eccentric, yeah?” Mina laughed and nodded. “I like that.”

“Well, good for me, I guess?”

“So. Mick. That’s really your name?”

“Michael, actually. Everyone calls me Mick, though. Please- please do. Any time someone calls me Michael, it feels like my mother calls me out for some shit I did.”

Mina let out a hearty laugh. “Okay? It’s cute, I like it. So, you wanna stay down there and get soaked or do you wanna come up and keep me company?”

“That depends.” Mick bit his lip as he eventually approached the porch and casually put his arms up on the reiling. “Uhm. Seems like you got cozy on yer porch but, I dunno, would y’ join me out there? At the fair, I mean?” He pointed back into the direction he came from.

“So, you don’t wanna talk to me?”

“Nah, yeah, I do, it’s just that I’m much better at these things when I don’t have to sit still and focus.” Seeing Mina’s slightly confused expression, he quickly added: “Okay, well, uh, that came out wrong, it’s not that I don’t wanna listen to you, it’s, uh, well...” He eventually let out a little sigh. “Okay, let’s just say I’m eccentric, too.”

“Funny, I had a feeling right away.” Mina replied with a little smirk. “Well, I think I can close the trailer for an hour or so? It’s almost lunch after all and it doesn’t take a whole lot to foretell that I’m gonna be hungry soon... alright, I’d love to join you for a little stroll!”

“You have an umbrella?”

“Won’t need one.”

“But it’s raining and Daryl - I mean, my weird friend - just took mine.”

“It’ll stop in a bit, I’m sure. And I have a hood, see?” Mina turned her back at Mick for a moment, showing off her purple hoodie.

“Well, that should do it.” he smiled, secretly admiring her shape. “You come down here?”

“Of course.”

Mick held out his hand to her. Being smitten with his little gesture of chivalry, she placed hers in it and lightly hopped down the few stairs.

“Take me away, stranger!”

***

The Dirty Deed was about half full at six thirty in the evening. Busy murmur as well as the cheerful clinking of glasses filled the air and Daryl had been half-listening to his fast-rambling friend for a good while now. Orla was pouring her heart out to him about her current... he couldn’t quite remember as what exactly she referred to him, probably ‘boyfriend’, but he couldn’t be sure. It was hardly a real conversation anyway, Orla did most of the talking, while he just nodded and “Hmm!”ed in the what he hoped to be right moments and while Daryl usually enjoyed Orla’s views on men and, above all, her insight into the female mind a lot, his mind just kept drifting off today.

“... and well, I guess Peter and I are kind of official now?”

“Hmm.” Daryl nodded.

“I mean, I dunno. Would you say we are?!”

“What? Uhm, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

“Yeah, sure, it’s just-“ Orla stopped and made a face when Daryl picked up his phone for the umpteenth time today and she had to admit that she was a little irritated by his lack of attention by now.

“Why are you checking your phone every five minutes?” Orla nudged Daryl’s side, trying to get a glimpse at his phone’s screen.

“Waiting for a message.” Daryl replied, holding the phone out of Orla’s reach as she tried to snatch it away.

“Yeah, d’uh, I figured? A message from whom?”

“Mick.”

“Why are you wating for a message from Mick?”

Daryl looked over to Orla now. “Why are you asking stupid questions? he’s my friend, he’s allowed to message me?”

“Yeah, I know, I’m friends with him, too, but I’m not waiting for him to randomly message me on a Sunday while I’m talking about stuff to another friend?!”

“Who said it’s random? I just wanna know how his date went, that’s all.”

“What? What date?” Orla frowned.

“Did someone say date? Who’s on a date?” Rosamund called as she hurried over from the other side of the bar, where she had just handed a few other guests their drinks. She leaned on the counter, very eager to absorb every bit of gossip from her favourite young guests.

“Holy shit, her hearing ability is insane.” Daryl muttered but Orla wasn’t going to drop the subject.

“No one’s on a date?” she said to Rosamund. “I mean, I’d know if Mick was dating, wouldn’t I?”

“Not if he only met her yesterday, after you took off!”

“Mick is dating?” Rosamund exclaimed cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“He’s not dating!” Orla insisted. “He’d tell me first!”

“Yeah well, maybe he didn’t want to disturb you while you were busy fucking Pizza Pete last night.”

“Daryl, that’s-”

“Oh my god. I need to know everything!” Rosamund blatantly interrupted Orla. “Who is she? How did they meet? Was it love at first sight? Oh wait, you guys have been to the fair yesterday, right? He didn’t even tell me that he met someone while he was here last night!”

“Because he hasn’t!” Orla interfered firmly but Rosamund didn’t pay attention to her.

“Oh my god, did they just bump into each other in front of a balloon cart? Did their eyes meet? Oh damn, it would take a really tall girl to meet Mick’s eyes just like that. Is she tall?”

Daryl made a face at the barkeeper. “You seem particularly interested in Mick’s love life. No offense, Rose, but that’s extremely weird.”

“Ah, no, come on, lad, you’re weird.” Rosamund snapped. “All I’m sayin’ is that he deserves being happy for once. Don’t you think? He’s too precious to die alone.”

“Like he can’t be happy on his own!?” Orla grumbled. “Alright, enough of this nonsense. Daryl, once and for all, if Mick was really dating, I’d be the first to know! He’s my best friend, mind you.”

“And I’m telling you that, for once, I happen to know more than you do!” Daryl grinned at his friend, speaking slowly, savouring every moment of the - admittedly - rather unusual circumstance.

Just when Orla tried to come up with a clever comeback, Daryl’s phone buzzed. All three simultaneously turned their heads and stared at the device on the counter. Daryl picked the phone up and unlocked it and when he saw that the two women were still curiously staring at him, he frowned.

“Some privacy, please?!” He turned around on his bar stool, away from Orla and Rosamund. “You two are worse than my mother, Jesus Christ.” he muttered, only to let out a pretty un-daryl-esque squeal of joy in the next moment. “Hah! It’s him. He’ll be here in a minute. Ask him yourself when he gets here, I already said too much anyway.”

“Yeah, and once he gets here, we’ll all see that you’ve been trying to wind us up with this whole ‘Mick is dating’ crap.” Orla snorted, picking up her empty glass and holding it out to the barkeeper.

Rosamund took the glass and dug out the bottle of ginger ale from under the bar.

“Orla dear,” she began as she poured her guest a new drink, “you’re not suggesting that our boy can’t find himself a lady, eh? ‘Cause that would be kinda cruel, considering that the two of you are oh-so-best friends and supposed to see the best in each other?”

“Ah, come on, that’s not what I meant?” Orla replied. “It’s just... I know he doesn’t open up just like that. Not right after he met someone. It took Leila weeks to win him over!”

“Yeah, that was because Leila is Leila.” Daryl said. “You know better, Orla, and you know it just takes the right person sometimes and, I dunno, correct me if I’m wrong but I’m kinda getting a feeling here that you merely... well, how am I supposed to say this - “ he made a dramatic pause, “- hate the thought that he might open up to a lady who is not you?”

Rosamund snorted as she handed Orla back her freshly filled glass.

“Whoa, that’s bullshit?” Orla snapped back and also shot the barkeeper an offended look. “If he found someone like that, well... I’d be happy for him, of course!”

“Well, here’s your chance to tell him just that!” Daryl said as he stretched a little to look over Orla’s head through the hallway to the pub’s entrance. He waved over to Mick who had just stepped inside, shaking off the rain and taking off his jacket, hanging it up on one of the little hooks in the hallway.

“Fuckin’ rain, man.” Mick grumbled as he hurried inside, leaning over the counter to Rosamund who greeted him with a kiss to his cheek that he returned.

“Ugh, you’re soaked.” the barkeeper shuddered but eventually smiled warmly at him. “Why, hello handsome. The usual?”

“Nah, I’ll have a coke.” Mick answered as he also gave his friends some heartfelt hugs and he took the seat on the right next to Daryl.

“Sorry I took your umbrella earlier.” Daryl said sheepishly as he looked at Mick whose hair was really dripping wet.

“Aye, that was a bit of an arsehole move.” Mick nodded and he thanked Rosamund as she handed him his drink, raising the glass and taking a large sip. The glass still at his mouth, he looked around and noticed that the three of them were staring at him expectantly for some weird reason. He frowned and lowered his glass a little.

“Why are y'all lookin’ at me like that?”

“Nothing? Drink up, laddie.” Rosamund said.

“Yeah, it’s nothing!” Orla shook her head, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Just happy to see you.”

“Ugh, no, come on.” Mick groaned, rolling his eyes at Daryl. “You told them.”

“I, uh, kind of did, yeah.”

“Why would you do that?!”

“They made me do it!” Daryl shrugged, and both Rosamund and Orla gasped.

“OY, don’t blame this on us, y’ nasty little fucker?!” Rosamund protested.

“Yeah, you could’ve thought of an excuse when I asked you what you were doing with your phone earlier? Instead you just-” She paused, looking like she just got hit by a truck. “Wait. Does that mean- wait, so you actually met someone?” she asked Mick.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Mick groaned, lighting himself a cigarette. “I just got here, lemme have my drink in peace.”

“Please tell me you two screwed your brains out, ‘cause she totally looked like she was up for that!” Daryl said.

“What is wrong with you?!” Mick shot back, sounding exhausted and looking like he was battling a giant headache. Daryl could have that effect on people at times.

“It’s why I left you guys alone, man, she was looking at you like she was ready to-”

“Please, for fuck’s sake. leave me alone. All of you.”

There was silence for a few moments and, surprisingly, it was Mick himself who broke it again.

“Okay. Y’all listen. Aye, I met someone. Yesterday. No, we did not screw our brains out and yes, I’m gonna meet ‘er again. On Tuesday, to be exact. She seems really great and I don’t wanna blow it before it even started and that’s all I have t' say for now.”

Rosamund clapped her hands again, looking more than statisfied. “That’s some good news, laddie. I’ll drink to that later. Oi, I can’t wait to tell Elias-”

“Nah, yer not gonna tell anyone, especially not Father Moore. Any time I date, or try to date someone, happens seldom anyway, he always looks at me like I’m gonna pull a Declan and get meself some illegitimate hellspawn, just because it’s cool.” Mick paused and bit his lip again. “... and that sounded really horrible, y’know, given the circumstances. Dammit.”

“It’s alright, lad. We know you didn’t mean it like that.” Rosamund assured him. “The wee one will be back on his lil’ feet in no time, we all know it.” she insisted, her voice firm, as she poured all three of them as well as herself new drinks. “Hey, you’re awfully quiet, dear!” she eventually said to Orla.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I just... sorry, I was lost in thoughts.” Orla smiled and raised her glass. “To Ash, eh?”

“To Ash.” the other three nodded in agreement, clinking their glasses together.

There was another moment of silence until Rosamund decided to approach the lighter subject again.

“Alright, just one more thing!” she looked back at Mick who already prepped himself up to utter some more heartfelt protest. “No, don’t roll your eyes at me, this is important. Did you at least kiss her, laddie? ‘Cause, if you ask me, that’s a must in the early stage of dating. You can’t date someone without knowing if you click in that area?!”

Caught off guard by the question, Mick let out a surprised laugh. When Rosamund and also Daryl kept looking at him expectantly, he merely gave a little shrug and smiled down into his glass.

(... to be edited/polished/continued! Just had to get this off my chest now ‘cause I was in a mood. :3)

#mick #mina #daryl #orla #rosamund

1 note · View note

tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Sleepless.

It’s Spring 2013. Orla can’t sleep because of a late night drawing session. But also because she has things on her mind.

***

4:02 am.

Orla O’Connell lay wide awake on her back and let out a faint but rather dramatic sigh. The room around her was mostly dark, only a bit of moonlight fell through the blinds, creating a striped pattern on the walls. She had counted those stripes for the umpteenth time now, instead of sheep, but there was no use. Sleep was out of question.

‘I should’ve known better.’ Orla thought and rolled her eyes at herself. ‘As if picking up my damn sketchbook late ever ends in a good night’s sleep.’

Mick had already gone to bed around eleven (which was a bummer because Orla had other plans) but it was only Friday - well, Saturday now - and she was about to spend the weekend at his apartment and she was pretty tired herself a few hours earlier after all. The last week had been really exhausting; her current art school projects ate up most of her free time as well as her energy and Mick’s week hadn’t been very enjoyable either, judging from the few bits he had told her during the week. They haven’t had much time for anything else but occasional phone calls and text messages which only added to their overall grumpiness - they had missed each other terribly.

Although both were certainly wiped enough, neither Orla nor Mick wanted to go to bed at seven already so they ordered in some food and just crashed on the couch together, tackling the newest episodes of their current favourite guilty pleasure show and it somehow turned out to be a perfect evening nonetheless and so Orla figured that there wasn’t anything to complain about at all - they had each other back now and there were no regrets, merely two full days to look forward to.

The world was in balance again.

At least until Orla made the mistake of getting out her sketchbook when Mick was just about to go to sleep, “Just for a few minutes, I’ll be with you in a bit!”, and the worst part was that he had warned her as well, “Nah, don’t start drawin’ now. Just don’t. You know what happens when y’do.”, but seeing that it was too late already (and knowing that arguing with her was pointless anyway), he just groaned and rolled his eyes before kissing her goodnight and disappearing into his bedroom. Orla could’ve sworn that he mumbled a rather unflattering remark regarding her state of mind on his way out but she didn’t really care, her latest sketch already had her full attention.

That way she could also finally pay attention to all the thoughts that had been coming to her mind over the week. There were quite a few of them. In fact, there were so many that she was forced to take them to bed with her and here she was - sleep-deprived and caught up in incoherent thoughts.

Orla sighed again. Normally she loved that Mick knew her so well but right now? Not so much. He would get up well rested in a few hours after all, while she wouldn’t feel and function (and look) significantly better than an average lower class zombie. She looked over to her right side. Mick was apparently sound asleep, looking unusually peaceful.

‘Yeah, great. Just play Sleeping Beauty, I get it.’ Orla thought, rather miffed and she looked back to the ceiling, crossing her arms over her chest. The prospect of spending the next few hours like this had no appeal at all to her and Orla couldn’t see any good reason why she should spend her sleepless misery all by herself. She didn’t really want to wake Mick up just like that, though. There had to be things she could do that would make him wake up sooner or later and that she could later pretend to be entirely oblivious about.

Orla bit her lip and after a little while she had an idea. She slid out of bed and stomped into the living room, not bothering at all to be quiet (maybe shutting a door not so quietly would already do the job), digging for her tablet in her bag and when she found it, she hurried back. She flopped on the bed, rustling the bedsheets a little longer than necessary before she crept back under them, arranging the pillows behind her so she could sit up comfortably.

Another expectant glance to the other bedside. Nothing. Not even the slightest movement. ‘Jesus, O’Loughlin, what are you, dead?’

Orla switched the tablet on and turned the volume up. She had already thought of the perfect movie with the perfect opening sequence to watch. It took her a moment to browse through her files, hoping that she hadn’t already deleted Declan’s stuff from the hard drive as planned but she was lucky.

“… aaaand there it is. A New Hope.” she mumbled and double clicked the file. “Do your best, George Lucas.”

Only a few moments later the all too familiar tune blasted from the device, just as Orla expected, and she hummed along for a while, checking every few moments if her sleepy boyfriend would finally deign to wake up and keep her company. The sound wasn’t ridiculously loud, that would be too obvious, but, combined with the light coming from the iPad, it certainly had potential to wake someone up and her method turned out to be quite effective indeed: Mick wrinkled his nose a little and let out a little disgruntled noise of disapproval. After a few moments he reached out, eyes still closed, clumsily groping around in the dark, apparently trying to figure out the source of the noise so he could turn it off.

Success. Orla turned down the volume again quickly. When Mick’s hand landed on her arm, she put her own hand on it.

“What’s up, baby? Oh god, sorry, I didn’t wake you up, did I?” she murmured, not able to supress a smirk that she knew he couldn’t see.

“Mmmmmh…” Mick murmured.

“What was that?” Amused, Orla now put the tablet away and leaned over him, her lips almost brushing his ear.

“Whaddayadoin…”

“I… didn’t mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep so I thought I could watch a movie, maybe…” Orla replied, stroking his hair and, above all, making sure to sound as innocent as possible.

“Ugh…” Mick now drew his arm back, covering his face with it.

“I’m sorry.” Orla said. “But hey, now that you’re awake, we can watch it together.”

“Why?”

“’Cause watching movies is fun?”

“No. Yah... no. What have I ever done to ya?” He sounded so hilariously dazed that Orla had to laugh.

“You haven’t done anything!”

Mick rolled over now, scooting closer and snuggling up to his girlfriend, putting his arm around her hips and resting his head on her lap. Orla smiled and happily ran her fingers through his hair again. Yep. That was kinda what she had in mind.

“I don’ wanna watch Star Wars. Not ever.” Mick murmured before his gaze eventually fell on the alarm clock on the little bedside table. He raised his head again and blinked in disbelief. “Are ya outta ya mind? It’s almost four fuckin’ thirty!”

“I told you I couldn’t sleep!” Orla cried out.

“Oh my god!” Mick flopped back into Orla’s lap. “I told ya not to pick up that fuckin’ sketchbook!” His voice was muffled.

“Yeah but-”

“Did I tell ya not to draw? Did I?”

“You did. Don’t be dramatic now.”

“I jus’ wanna sleep. It’s 4:30, I got ev’ry right ta be dramatic at 4:30.”

“Ah no, that’s such a waste of energy.”

“What energy, I’m out of energy.”

Orla giggled a little at his remark as he still sounded somewhat dazed. “Hey, weirdo, now that you’re awake…” she lightly patted his head, ”you can entertain me! How’s that?”

“I can hardly keep my eyes open, can’t possibly do that now.” Mick rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Gimme ten minutes.” he added quietly, a few moments later.

“Oh my god, you’re terrible!” Orla laughed. “Wasn’t talking about that. I mean, I dunno. Let’s just talk for a moment? I’ve been thinking a bit lately.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno. Things.”

“What things?”

“About us.”

Despite the soft voice that Orla was using, the statement jolted Mick a little further out of his sleepy state. He opened his eyes in the dark again and frowned but Orla couldn’t see that.

“What about us?” he asked quietly.

“I dunno. Nothing in particular. Or, well. There’s something, I guess?”

“So, what is it?”

Orla sighed. “Maybe it sounds silly but... doesn’t it ever feel weird to you that we, y’know, never fight?”

Startled at the unexpected sentiment, Mick let out a little laugh. “Wait, what relationship are you in? We fight all the time! We just did, kinda?”

“Nah, that’s not ‘fighting’, that’s usually foreplay.”

“Fair enough. Still. We do fight. I mean, I’m sure we fight?”

“No, we don’t.” Orla caressed Mick’s upper arm by tracing little circles on it. “Jessie said it. Ever since we became, y’know, this, we’ve been in such harmony. Inseparable. Almost, like, synched.”

There was silence for a few moments. Just when Orla feared that Mick had fallen asleep again, he turned his head to face her and propped himself up a little.

“So... ya want us to shout at each other every day or what?” he asked carefully, still not quite sure why Orla would bring this subject up in the middle of the night. Or, better said, the very early morning hours.

“Of course not.” Orla rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly now.”

“I mean, we’ve been datin’ for, like, what? Four weeks?”

“Five.”

“Yeah, either way, that’s not exactly what one would call long time commitment, eh? Ya really want us t’ be miserable so soon?”

“I don’t wanna be miserable, silly, I just... I dunno. I feel that real relationships should have more fighting.”

Mick looked at Orla for a few moments, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“... ‘kay, I’ll try my best to piss y’off more often from now on.” he eventually shook his head a little before he laid back down to rest in Orla’s lap again.

“You’re not taking me seriously at all, are you?!” Orla rolled her eyes again and gave Mick a light slap to the back of his head.

“Ow!”

“That can’t possibly have hurt. Like, at all.” she scoffed but began to stroke his hair again, as if to make up for the slap she had just given him.

“My head hurts from yer ‘We should fight more!’ shit. I mean, Orla, c’mon. Who cares what Jessie says?”

“I’ll tell her you said that!”

“Or what anyone else says in that matter.” Mick groaned. “Ya know what I mean. None of our friends is exactly an expert in the field, don’t ya think?”

Again, silence. Mick closed his eyes again, hoping that Orla would eventually let it go so they could get at least a few more hours of rest.

“Are you mad now?” Orla asked after a few moments, grinning, lightly pulling at a strand of his hair.

Okay, so much for ‘rest’, Mick thought to himself.

“C’mon, you wanna fight now? I made you mad, we have to fight now!” Orla insisted and she clearly was no longer tired.

“I’m not mad, you’re just annoying.”

“Aw, now we’re definitely gonna fight, you said a mean thing!”

“I did not-”

“Finally. Our first fight. Prepare for some cliche phrases.”

“Orla, what the hell?” Mick laughed. Screw it. She wants to play, let her play. He was no longer tired anyway.

Orla was relieved when she heard him laugh.

“You never listen to me!” she suddenly cried out, using a tone of mock dispair.

“Oh my god.” Still laughing, Mick rolled over on his back. “Get away from me.”

Orla joined in laughing and she scooted closer, slowly crawling on top of him.

“You never take me seriously either!”

“No, I certainly don’t.”

“You don’t care for me-”

“- ah, c’mon, that’s debatable-”

“- and I always I have to do all the apartment cleaning by myself!” Orla finished her little mock outrage and bent down to Mick, kissing him sweetly.

“You never cleaned my apartment so far.” he murmured against Orla’s lips, placing a hand to the side of her neck and pulling her into another deep kiss. “Hey, ya wanna do that later? I have a new mop!”

“Woah! Sexist much?” Orla gave Mick another light slap to his head, sat up and crossed her arms. She knew he didn’t mean what he had just said but she felt playful.

“Ya don’t need to wear any clothes, by the way.” He put his hands to her hips and squeezed them a little and the somewhat firm touch sent a little shiver down Orla’s spine.

“See? You’re terrible.You deserve to be shouted at.”

Mick looked up at Orla and bit his lower lip, lightly tugging at the hem of her shorts. “Hey... come back down here for a moment.”

Orla did as he asked her to, curious as to what was on his mind. “What is it?”

“Do ya really- I mean, ya really think it’s a bad thing that we don’t actually fight?”

“I was just saying-”

“‘Cause I think that’s a good thing, y’know?” He cupped her face in both of his hands and gave her another kiss. “Call me a softie or anythin’ but I’ve never believed in all those bullshit cliches. That couples have to be miserable and irritated with each other. You don’t want that kind of relationship. I don’t want it.”

Orla pushed a lost strand of hair out of Mick’s face and smiled at him. “No, of course not. It’s just... it’s just all I know. Like, I don’t have a whole lot of reference where there was no fighting involved.”

“Yeah, and how did that work out for ya?”

“It didn’t.”

Mick played with a strand of Orla’s hair, curling it around his finger and letting it go again. “I can do without the fighting.” he eventually said.

“Chloe and Malachy fight, but they handle it somehow? They’re perfect for each other. So it’s maybe not only a bad thing after all.”

“Aye but Chloe’s a hothead and Malachy is, well, uh... Malachy. We’re not anything like them.”

“You are a hothead.”

“Not really.” Mick shook his head.

“Hey, I’ve known you for much longer than five weeks, okay? You, sir, are a hothead.” Orla insisted.

“I’m not. Not with you.”

“Not with me, no.” Orla smiled. “Still. I don’t think fighting is just bad. I mean, how do they say? Friction causes heat. And heat eventually turns into warmth.”

“Aye, okay, I’m not sayin’ we won’t ever fight but it doesn’t have to be and if we don’t, ya shouldn’t worry ‘bout it.” A thought crossed Mick’s mind and he propped himself up on his elbows. “Wait, what, are y’ bored already? Is that what this is all about? Oh my god!”

“Oh god, no, I’m not bored!” When Mick just kept looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, Orla had to laugh. “I am not. bored., you weirdo. Anything but that, trust me. Actually... “

“What?”

“No. “Orla shook her head. “It’s silly. And sappy.”

“Orla, y’ can’t just start sentences and not finish ‘em.” Mick sighed and laid back down again. “That’s what I do.” he added with a smile.

“Yeah, and you must stop that, by the way, it’s annoying and the ‘It’s cute ‘cause I’m sleeping with you!’ bonus will expire one day.”

“Don’t change the subject. Tell me what ya think.”

“No. Gives you way too much power.” Orla smirked.

“Orla, please.”

“Alright.” she sighed. “It’s so dumb. Don’t take this the wrong way but... I think I’m scared sometimes.”

“Scared? Why that?”

“I mean, aren’t you? We’ve been together for such a short time only and sometimes it freaks me out how much it unsettles me when you’re not around.”

“What do ya mean?”

“Okay, look. Just think of last week. I was literally on the edge of my sanity ‘cause we couldn’t meet up for even five fuckin’ minutes. Apparently I’m that kind of girl now and I hate it.”

“What kind of girl?”

“The kind of girl who needs her stupid boyfriend or otherwise she’ll freak.”

“Oy, watch it.” Mick pinched her side a little but he was smiling.

“Sorry. Got carried away, y’know. Feelings.” Orla smiled right back.

“But seriously, why d’ ya hate that? I feel the same, I was close to murdering my co-workers and once ya got here, my bad mood was like... poof. Gone!”

“Okay, that’s kind of cute... except for the murdering-your-co-workers part. Please don’t do that.” Orla raised an eyebrow.

“Figure of speech. If I killed them, I’d have to do all that work alone.”

“I’m sure they appreciate your motives for letting them live.”

“This is not about them.” Mick caressed Orla’s cheek with his thumb and she closed her eyes at his gentle touch.

“I know. I dunno. It’s not that I don’t enjoy things as they are. I do. It’s just... what if-”

Reading her thought, Mick just closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. Don’ even think that, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“‘Cause I am.” Realising how weird he probably sounded and that such a statement based on a simple feeling probably wouldn’t convince her, Mick tried to think of something that would back up what he had just said but he couldn’t think of anything reasonable. He realised that, in a way, Orla was right. He couldn’t be sure. It really was just a feeling, but the feeling was strong enough and for some weird reason Mick had always been better off trusting his guts so far and so he shrugged. “I dunno. I just am.”

It looked like Orla didn’t need any reason as she smiled right down at him. They looked at each other like that for a few more moments and while nothing they had just said made any sense, their little world was still perfect

Eventually Orla pulled back and sat up again, her expression curious.

“So you’re a fortune teller now?” she asked.

“What?”

“Well, apparently you can now predict the future. That’s good, that way I’ll never have to worry about anything anymore, I can just ask you about how things are gonna turn out.”

“Well, if it makes ya happy?”

“Yeah! So, what else can you tell me? Am I going to be rich? Famous?” Orla lowered her voice. “Clearly I’m already drop dead beautiful.” She did an elegant hair flip and smiled down at her boyfriend.

“Aye, y’are.” Mick smiled back and nodded. “Well, I can tell ya that my neighbours will be up very soon.”

“Really? Why would they, it’s barely 5. Is that something you just know as well?”

“Aye.” Mick bit his lip and put on a playful grin. He put his hands back to Orla’s hips, pulling her a little closer. “Ya be screamin’ my name in less than, uhm... let’s say thirty minutes, it’ll wake ‘em up.”

“Aw, I hate you when you’re cocky like that.”

“Nah, ya don’t.”

“Nah, I don’t.” Orla grinned and she let Mick pull her into another kiss - one that didn’t leave too much room for interpretation but a few moments later she sat back up again as she got hit by another thought.

“Hey, so we never really finished that discussion about fighting.” Orla noted, out of breath, her smile wide.

“Oh my god, are ya fuckin’ serious?”

“Just listen to me!”

“Now? No way, I got other stuff on my mind now, come back down here!” Mick used both hands to wave Orla nearer.

“Alright, in a second. Just promise me you’ll at least consider provoking a fight every now and then!”

“God, what? Why?”

“Just three words...” she teased, as she slowly pulled down the straps of her tank top.

“Huh?”

“Make up sex.”

***

#orla #mick #orla x mick #orla's pet name for mick is indeed 'weirdo'#along with others #elsa inspired that #WHO ELSE lol #I find that cute #even a casual 'hey weirdo!' warms this boy's heart

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Random untitled draft - I

It’s an unusually slow Friday evening at the Dirty Deed.

(Just a little somethin’ featuring Mick, Rosamund and good ol’ Father Moore. For fun only, not to go anywhere in particular… it’s just me messing around with my beloved peeps and their everyday behaviour, don’t mind me. :D)

***

“Here y’go, handsome. Cheers.”

Rosamund placed a large glass in front of her young regular, smiling sweetly, but Mick merely gave her an uncomprehending look when he saw that the glass did not contain the familiar golden liquid he expected but a weird pale pink brew instead.

“That’s, uh, no beer.”

“Well spotted. Eyes like an eagle.”

“Pf, I wish.” Mick mumbled. “I ordered beer, Rose.”

“Ah well, and now you get this. Life’s full of surprises. Enjoy.”

“I dun’ want this. What is it even?” Cocking his head a little, Mick took the glass rim between his thumb and finger, gingerly turning it on the spot and wrinkling his nose at the ominous beverage before he eventually looked back at the woman behind the bar.

“Y’know, it’s a bit like apple cider… well, uhm, with the little twist that it’s pink grapefruit flavoured. It’s called Sweet Sin. It’s grand, just try it already!”

Mick kept looking at her, never changing his mildly disgusted expression. Apparently he wasn’t keen on trying the drink and the look on his face clearly told Rosamund that he demanded an explanation.

“My supplier fucked up, okay?” she groaned and dropped her shoulders. “He left me with a dozen boxes of this” - she gestured at the drink - “instead of apple cider and for some weird reason they won’t take the supply back since I already opened three of the boxes before I realised I got the wrong stuff.”

“What? I mean, I’m no expert but since when is that a problem?”

“Beats me. Probably had an intern on the hotline or somethin’. Anyway, apparently I can only get a discount on my next supply of cider and until then, I must get rid of all the Sweet Sins and somehow not make a loss.”

“How can y’ not notice that ya got this shit instead of apple cider anyway? It’s pink, it doesn‘t look anythin’ like apple cider!”

Rosamund put her hands to her hips. “Ha! Aren’t you a little smartarse?” she scoffed. “Drink up, laddie, and when you leave later, you better tell all your little friends how amazing this stuff is and my little problem will be solved in a heartbeat.”

“That’s grave coercion, Rose.”

“Nah, come on, it’s just your favourite bartender asking a little favour from you. C’mon.”

Mick didn’t move.

“C’mon, give it a shot! You might be surprised!”

When Mick still didn’t touch the drink and merely raised an eyebrow at her, Rosamund groaned again. “What is it?”

“Don’t I get a straw?”

“Aaah. As many as you want, handsome.” Rosamund winked, pulling a little box with straws from under the counter and handing it to Mick. He bit his lip in concentration and eventually picked a pink one.

Rosamund nodded approvingly. “Goes well with the drink.”

Mick merely clicked his tongue and smiled at her. Just as he did, the front door opened and a tall man clad in black entered. At some point it had started raining - the man shuddered and let out a disgruntled little noise before he took off his wet coat, trying to find a good spot on the wall where he could hang it up.

“C’mon in, Elias, just take the coat with you.” Rosamund called at her new guest.

“Ah, but it’s dripping wet, dear, that’s hardly a good idea.” Father Moore replied as he eventually hung up his coat. “Unless you want to provoke some serious injuries caused by people slipping, that is.” he added, brushing off some last drops from his neck and shoulders before he entered the main room.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ on his holy bog, that shit’s disgusting!” Mick cried out only a moment later, swiftly putting a hand to his mouth and glaring at the drink in front of him.

“It’s good to see you, too, Michael. I’m relieved to see you never lose your spirit.” the pries sighed as he sat down next to the younger man, moving his bar stool a little closer to the counter.

“Evenin’, Padre. Uhm, sorry ‘bout, y’know. What I just said.”

“It’s alright, son, heaven knows you’re a good one deep down inside.” The older man now looked at Rosamund who did her best to suppress an amused grin but failed horribly. “ I’ll have the usual, dear.”

“Don’t even bother, you won’t get what you want anyway.” Mick now glared at the bartender as if she had meant to poison him.

“Is that so?” Father Moore raised an eyebrow when he eventually spotted the pink drink. “That’s a rather unusual colour for a beer.”

“Beer me arse, here, want a sip?” Mick pushed his glass over to the priest who backed away a bit at the unexpected action.

“Ah come on now, laddie, have some respect for our good Father. Here’s your Guinness, you earned it.” Rosamund laughed as she finally handed Mick the nice cold pint he had ordered about fifteen minutes ago. A few moments later, she handed Father Moore the very same.

“What? Why does he get what he wants?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I can hardly expect our Father to have a drink called Sweet Sin. You, however, look like you’d enjoy one every once in a while.”

“That is the worst bullshit I’ve-”

“Alright, alright!” Father Moore interrupted, apparently not keen on listening to another one of Mick’s tirades of foul words. “Let’s just move on to lighter subjects now. How’s the family doin’, Michael?”

“How’s that a lighter subject?”

“Just answer my question, son.”

Mick took a sip from his beer and sighed. “Well, we pretend that Ma’s better than she actually is and I think that kinda does make ‘er feel better in the end.”

“So, her arthritis is acting up again?” The priest sounded concerned.

“Aye.”

“I see. Well, it has been a while since I last visited your parents. I should stop by and have a chat again soon.”

“Aye, I guess she’d like that.” Mick nodded and took another sip.

“Any news from the road from Declan and the Australian? What is his name again?”

“James. And no. No news. I mean, I dunno. Ya might wanna ask Orla or Sarah or Sean next time ya see ‘em.”

Father Moore let out a little sigh and Mick couldn’t help but think that he sounded disappointed.

“I take it that you and Declan are still fighting?”

“Nah, not really. Just, y’know, not talkin’.”

“Yeah and that’s because the two of you are daft as heck.” Rosamund interfered in the middle of her way back from the other end of the bar where she had just handed one of the other few guests a new drink.

“Rosamund.” Father Moore warned and shot the bartender a stern look.

“What? Like it ain’t true? You said it yourself!”

“Oh, did ya?” Mick turned around on his bar stool so he could face the Father who merely pressed his lips into a thin line, looking at Rosamund as if to say something along the lines of “Did you have to?”. She merely shrugged and proceeded to wash some of the glasses.

“Of course I did not use those words.” Father Moore insisted. “However, son, I asked myself a while ago if there really isn’t any way for the two of you to eventually resolve that unfortunate situation you’re in?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, perhaps he will have made up his mind by the time he comes back?”

“I dunno. Dun’ think so.” Another sip.

“Michael, I may be mistaken but I am getting the impression that you are no longer concerned about how things will play out for the two of you which I find, well, a little alarming, to be quite honest.”

“Look, I appreciate that concern but maybe it is for the better, okay? I dunno. I dun’ care.”

“Psh, yeah, sure, you don’t care.” Rosamund chimed in.

“What? What are you on about now?” Mick was no longer able to hide his irritation.

“Just like you don’t care about Orla and her new beau. You’re so bad at pretending to not care, kid, it’s ridiculous.” Rosamund scoffed.

Father Moore closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Rosamund, please.”

Mick bit his lip, looking back and forth between the priest and the bartender for a few moments. “I think I’m gonna leave.” he said curtly, reaching for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Oh no, sweetheart, please, there’s no need to leave, I’m just messin with you-” Rosamund began but Mick had already gotten up and interrupted her.

“Nah, y’know what, I should be goin’ home anyway.” He dug a few coins out of his wallet and gave the two a faint smile. “Thanks for the pink-shit-experience, Rose, that was life-changin’. See ya guys around, eh?” With a swift movement, Mick took his jacket from the back of his bar stool, put the money on the counter and hurried outside the room.

Father Moore and Rosamund looked after him for a few moments.

“I don’t believe this, Rosamund.” the priest chided once Mick was out of sight. “Why would you unsettle the poor lad like that?”

“Because I’m right and you know it and it’s about time someone tells these little idiots that they’re being, well. Idiots.” Rosamund crossed her arms and the posture as well as her defiant expression once again made her look like a stubborn teenager.

Father Moore merely raised an eyebrow.

“Besides, I love the look of terror on his face when someone mentions Orla to him in a possible romantic context. I haven’t done that in a while, y’know.” she added.

“I highly doubt that strategy of dealing with your customers is good for your business in the long run, dear.”

“Ah.” Rosamund dismissed the sentiment with a little wave of her hand. “He always comes back after all!”

“I am- I don’t know what to say.”

“Whatever you say, Elias, you won’t be able to deny that I’m right.”

“Why don’t you just leave these kids alone, dear?”

“Excuse me? Wasn’t it you who just voiced their concern about the situation? That’s not exactly ‘leavin’ someone alone’ either. Besides, they’re no longer kids, Elias.”

“Well, they sure act like kids at times.”

"True.” Rosamund chuckled.

“I’ve known them all for so long. It’s just really painful to watch them running into all these walls over and over. One would assume that they all have severe headaches by now but-”

“They’re thickheads! My point exactly!” Rosamund exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

“Ah, please don’t say that.”

“You’re smiling.”

“I am not.”

“You are so smiling, Elias. I’m right and you know it.”

Elias now laughed and shook his head a little. “You’re really one of a kind, Rosamund.”

“And don’t you forget that.”

(… to be continued… probably.)

#mick #rosamund #father moore

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

The hard road home (WIP/very rough)

James and Declan have an argument in the car on their way home from Northern Ireland.

(This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, along with some other things, and I really just wanna post this ‘cause it’s kind of happening just now in the timeline! I will get back to it at some point, to edit and polish! It’s horrible but hey, it’s late and I’m tired and I don’t have a whole lot of energy to edit all of it just now, haha.)

*****

(...)

The headlights of the many other vehicles got more and more glaring as the sky surrounding them got darker and James had to turn his head a little so he wouldn’t get blinded too badly by an oncoming truck. He and Declan had just left Armagh and the GPS now told them to stay right on Monaghan Road and it was a long road to go down, quite literally.

James started feeling a bit tired. He had suggested to stay in a Bed & Breakfast for the night as they had passed one a little earlier, to get some rest and some better food than the poor remains the two had left in their VW bus but Declan had refused. Their road trip had come to an abrupt end when he had received an unexpected call from Galway. Lauren had the most worrisome news for him and while James could understand that Declan wanted to get back to Galway as quickly as possible now, he decided that he would bring up the subject again later. Car crashs really aren’t that much fun, James knew too well from experience, and if all else failed he would find a nice place to stay for a day or two, to recharge and get his thoughts in order and he would put his friend into the next train home.

A truly tempting thought, James figured, as Declan really hadn’t been the most enjoyable company for the past few hours. Again, understandable, but James couldn’t help but feel irritated nonetheless. He could now see what Kieran had meant just before they were about to leave Dublin - he had given him a slight pat on his upper arm, telling him that Declan could be a real pain to deal with when in a bad mood and James knew that he had said it all in good fun but he was right. Oh, so right.

As if he could actually hear his thoughts, Declan now sighed impatiently, probably for the tenth time within the last hour. “Can’t you just turn that thing off already?”

“What, you mean the stereo?”

“No, the voice inside your head.” Declan groaned. “Of course the stereo, what else could I possibly mean?”

James frowned. Don’t. He’s upset. he told himself. “Sure.” he sighed as he pressed the power switch. Dammit. Music was that very last bit of joy he could cling to so he wouldn’t have to face Declan’s bad mood.

“You alright, man?” James asked after a few moments of silence.

“Livin’ my best life over here.”

“You hungry?”

“Nah.”

“Thirsty?”

“Nah.”

“Need to take a piss?”

“What?” Declan slowly turned his head and made a face. “Nah.”

“So, you gonna talk eventually or are you just gonna keep snappin’ at me like some fuckin’ pre-teen?”

“There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

“I dunno, mate, I feel you got a shitload to talk about.”

“And then what? Huh? Look, man, no offense but you’re not exactly the person I wanna talk to about all this.” Leaning back in his seat, Declan crossed his arms and closed his eyes, apparently trying to insinuate that the conversation was over.

James sighed again. He wouldn’t let it go that easily this time. “Fair enough, but see, I’m kinda the only person around for the next few hours and I’m really gettin’ sick of your snapping.”

“Oh why, sorry, but I’m really not in the best mood here.”

“You don’t say. That’s why I’m offering to listen, smartass.”

“I don’t wanna talk. Besides, what kind of advice could you possibly have?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, man? I give great advice! Besides, I have a kid, too.”

“Which you refuse to let into your life.”

James opened his mouth, dying to make a good comeback, but he merely breathed out as he clearly couldn’t argue with the sentiment. “You, uh, kinda have a point there.” he gave in and bit his lip.

Neither of the two said anything for another while; James merely concentrated on the traffic but after what felt like an eternity of silence, Declan spoke again.

“Why is it?” His voice was calm all of a sudden, and there was a tone to it that James couldn’t figure out right away.

“Why is what?”

“Why are you floatin’ around like you do instead of being with Victoria?” Declan inquired and when James didn’t answer right away, he went on. “I mean, you could have a really great life. I’m probably not the first one to tell you but man, you have no idea what ya missin’ out on.”

“It’s not that simple.” James said quietly.

“I think it is. It’s that simple. Instead of watching your little girl grow up, you keep doin’ this.”

“Doin’ what, exactly?”

A line of oncoming vehicles passed their bus now and James squinted. He wasn’t entirely sure if he liked the direction this conversation was taking.

“Y’know. This.” Declan patted the dashboard. “Bein’ restless, movin’ around. Switchin’ countries every two months ‘cause you can’t make your fuckin’ mind up about anything, not even about where you wanna live. You go on road trips with your ex-girlfriend’s brother-”

“That was your idea.”

“I know it was my fuckin’ idea, man, that’s not the point.” Declan hissed. “My point is that your life is a goddamn joke and you don’t even realise it.”

James let out a dry laugh. “Gosh, aren’t we a fuckin’ ray of sunshine today.”

“It’s true.”

“What makes you think I don’t realise it anyway?”

“‘Cause if you did, you’d at least try to change directions, eh?”

‘Thanks to whomever for my thick skin.’ James thought to himself. He couldn’t recall a single time when Declan had sounded as pugnacious as he did now and while he could not begin to understand how he really felt, James began to realise that he probably needed this. Declan was likely feeling helpless and needed to fight something.

James still didn’t feel like letting him walk all over him just yet. Besides, Declan’s observation wasn’t entirely off and as much as he hated to admit it - hearing the truth from someone else stung.

“It’s really not that simple, man.”

“Why not? Shit was handed to you on a silver plate your entire life. You can just make a choice, you had every fuckin’ possibility others could only dream about.”

James laughed and shook his head. “Nah. I mean, maybe I could’ve had them, if I had grown up with a family as supportive as yours but unfortunately I grew up with mine.”

“Yeah, no, we’re not exactly the Waltons either, nice try. It is us who choose who we are, not our parents or anyone else in that matter.”

“You have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.” James said quietly, slowly shaking his head again. “So, would it make you feel better about yourself? Me tellin’ you that I’m just that close to hitting the turps at certain times?”

“Why would that make me feel better about myself? This is not about me-”

“This entire conversation is about you, man. It’s not me who has to face their entire world as they knew it blow up once I’m back home-”

“All I wanna know is why it is so hard for you to be a part of your daughter’s life when she’s clearly the best thing you have ever done in your entire life?”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again, man. It is not. that. simple.”

“Sorry man, I'm just not buyin’ your Poor Boy bullshit.”

“Fine, then don’t!” James blurted out, his patience suddenly getting thin. It was the undertone of Declan’s voice that bothered him deeply - he was being condescending. James could deal with upset and angry but he really didn't feel like putting up with his friend playing high and mighty. “Don’t need a spoiled Mama’s boy up my arse anyway.”

“I am not a-”

“Oh, you’re the worst Mama’s Boy I’ve ever met, man.” James insisted, now striking a combative tone, suddenly feeling quite argumentative himself. “You are a spoiled rotten brat and that’s something you should wrap your head around at some point so you can actually start to try and become the great guy you think you are.”

“Ha! That’s fun, though, ‘cause last time I checked I am not the one running away from my responsibilities!"

“No, you’re someone who fucks his best friend’s woman without feelin’ the faintest bit of remorse-”

“Oh, watch what you’re sayin'-” Declan hissed under his breath

“Isn’t that what happened? Don’t pretend that it isn’t what happened!”

“So what? It happened, it’s not like I could do anything about it now?” Declan shot back. “Since when are you Mick’s biggest fan anyway?” he added, his voice snide.

“I am not his fan.” James rolled his eyes. “But you ripped out that poor bloke’s heart, and all you did afterwards was whine about how he had the audacity to not forgive you right away.”

Declan let out a dry laugh. “You are, once again, missing the point-”

“I’m not missin’ anything, I’m just stunned 'cause you’re actually tryin’ to tell me that you’re a better guy than I am. I got news for you, man, you are not, and maybe it’s about time you get kicked off that high fuckin’ horse of yours.”

***

(... to be continued, probably. :’D)

#james #declan

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Messages. (WIP/unpolished)

:: updated on 07/18/2019 ::

The day after the party. Orla is thinking many thoughts.

*****

It had been a bit more than six hours since he left and when she closed her eyes, she could still feel his hands on her body as well as his unsteady breath against the skin of her neck and how strands of blonde hair had tickled her face every now and then.

What truly made her stomach flutter though was thinking back to all the brief moments when his eyes had met hers, when they shared sweet looks, to make sure the other one was feeling just fine, comfy and secure.

Biting her lip, she couldn’t help but smile to herself for the dozenth time that afternoon. Sleeping with someone wasn’t new to Orla and while she wouldn’t call herself an expert in the field, she had more than a basic idea of how these things worked and how to make them enjoyable for both parts. Last night, however, she had found out that sleeping with a friend was in no way comparable to anything she had experienced before and she also had to realise that the things she knew weren’t exactly helpful in that matter - she had felt like a clueless, giggling idiot anyway.

It hasn’t been bad, though, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually, but Orla couldn’t stop asking herself if people writing books and movies about friends falling in love had ever fallen in love with a friend themselves - there were usually big talks about how knowing each other inside out makes these things oh-so-much easier and friends would just switch to being lovers as if it was the most natural and uncomplicated thing ever and Orla couldn’t comprehend it at all. What happened last night was probably the most exciting and amazing moment of her young life so far and nothing made perfect sense just yet - it had all happened so fast after all.

That was not the only thing on her mind, though. There was something else, something far more essential.

She lay flat on her bed and stared at the ceiling and she had been doing that for the entire day, more or less. Ever since Mick had left the house she had been wondering. Wondering if what they did was right, if they should have waited until they had figured out at least SOME details (considering the well-known fact that sex had also great potential to mess things up), if they would do it again, when they would do it again and, most importantly, what they even were now, because if there was one thing certain it was that they had left their strictly platonic friendship behind.

Before he left, Mick had kissed her goodbye and he had also promised that they would meet up tonight but there hadn’t been any sign of life from him ever since and Orla had long started wondering if he had given it a second thought and maybe - she cringed at the mere thought - even changed his mind.

She reached for her phone for the umpteenth time (the last time was about five minutes ago) and unlocked it, only to feel the familiar little sting as she couldn’t spot the highly anticipated red little bubble that alerted her any time she had new messages.

Instead, she got the impression that her messenger merely laughed at her now:

No new message, girl.

Nope.

Not a single one.

Stop waiting.

He doesn’t care.

Just accept it already.

Orla sighed and tried to shake the weird thoughts off as she snuggled into her pillow a little more. She was being silly and she knew it. Those might be legit worries if it was any other guy she had just met the other night but the guy in question was Mick and Mick wasn’t like that. He was always true to his word and as she knew that he had some things to do today - and she knew that way before that unexpected and pleasant turn of events last night - she figured that she would just have to be patient.

How about you just text him, Dummy? her messenger now suggested, probably as a little gesture of reconciliation for sparking her mopey thoughts a minute ago. Or maybe just call him? It’s 2013, gals no longer sit around waiting for a man to make a move, we make shit happen!

Orla pursed her lips as she opened the messenger again. She didn’t even have to scroll; Mick was the first to show up in her chats as they had send each other a few texts at the party last night while they were wandering around apart from each other, trying to find a private spot where it would just be the two of them but they hadn’t been very successful.

She chuckled as she read his last few lines again.

SAT, 03-16-2013

1:17: kitchen again?

1:18: NO DONTCOME hERE someone puked in here

1:19: Im gonna go upstairs

1:25: where are you

1:25: WHERE

1:25: are

1:25: YOU

1:26: thou shalt answer

1:27: Im desperate

1:29: IM LOST 😂

1:30: this house is HUGE

1:30: almost LIKE oUS

1:30: OURS

1:32: oRLAA

‘Adorable’, Orla thought, smiling. They had found each other just a bit after that last message and they had managed to share at least one more passionate kiss before they had to jump apart once more as they got disturbed by a little group of drunk idiots - she couldn’t even remember who - staggering into the room.

She chuckled as she began typing.

Hey handsome 😘 I was just wondering whether we could

She stopped. Too casual. This wasn’t asking for getting a snack during lunch break after all. Orla hit the delete button and pressed her lips into a thin line. ‘Maybe I should google for some reference’, she thought. ‘How to properly address your childhood friend with whom you had sex last night.’

Or, well, maybe not.

I just saw this ad for porch swings and I thought I could get one so we can

God, no.

You like big butts and you cannot lie… 😜

NO! (She could very well imagine the face he would make if he read that one, though.)

If choosing what to wear is what’s taking you so long to get back to me I’m happy to inform you that I fancy the kind of activity which doesn’t require any apparel at all so stop making a damn fuss 👀 💋

Smart. Playful. Sexy.

But no.

Please don’t change your mind about us and come back here, I miss you!

Woah. Needy, much?

“Aaaaah!” Orla cried out in frustration as she tossed her phone to the side, slumping back into the pillows. “This sucks.”

Only a few moments later she had another thought. Couldn’t it be that Mick was going through the very same thing right now? That he was sitting on his bed or his couch, or maybe in his kitchen just in this moment, long legs up on the other chair, chainsmoking, like he did so often when he felt lost, typing some words into his phone every few moments, only to delete them again because nothing he came up with felt appropriate?

Maybe Mick was just dying to hear from her all the time. Maybe he was just as insecure as she was and when she thought back to the party as well as to what happened after it, right here, she suddenly felt very silly for even thinking that he might want to back out. The way he had looked at her as well as his body language had spoken volumes after all.

Orla swiftly reached back for her phone and opened the messenger once more. Sometimes the best way to overcome awkward situations was to be honest and straightforward. Once she was done typing, Orla hit the send button and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath.

*****

“I can very well remember the last words Ethel said to me and they were sure words to live by.”

Terry Irvine, a stocky, balding man in his fifties, made a pause, heavy with meaning, as he looked around the tastefully decorated room, feeling deep satisfaction as he saw that everyone was listening to his words with rapt attention.

“She said ‘Lives are like rivers, Terry:” he went on, “Eventually they go where they must. Not where we want them to.’(*)“

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what she said.” Connor O’Loughlin scoffed quietly. “A mean old bitch will suddenly start crackin’ wise proverbs after she spent her lifetime just spattering shit at any given occasion.”

Mick bit his lip as he tried not to laugh at his younger cousin’s remark and he wondered whether anyone in his room actually liked ‘Aunt’ Ethel as the few memories he had of her certainly weren’t the best. She had sometimes looked after him when he was still a kid and as far as he could remember, she never allowed him to do anything besides sitting still while reading bible verses together and she also made him eat the worst, greasiest porridge that the world has ever tasted and the mere memory of it made his guts turn.

Friends and family were gathered together today, mourning Ethel’s recent death, but Mick felt rather indifferent about her passing; he was merely here to do his parents a favour who claimed that they had always been particularly fond of the old hag and while that might even be true, he couldn’t help but feel that they also wanted to represent the family business which, considering the estimated average age of the majority of people in the room, was actually a clever stroke.

“... and I’m sure that Ethel is smiling down upon us just now, as she sees all her friends and family joined together in love and harmony, thinking of her and the wonderful things she has done for each and everyone of us...”

Not only was he not listening, Mick also still had other things on his mind. Far more important and definitely nicer things. (No offense, Ethel.) He made a little step back and once he was sure that no one was watching, he reached behind his back and grabbed a handful of bread cubes from one of the bowls on the buffet table, still looking at Terry addressing his audience with his pompous speech as well as his grossly overstated gestures and expressions. That speech would last for an eternity, Mick just knew it, and he didn’t feel like starving, especially not now that his life had seemingly taken a really great turn.

“... I ask you now to observe one minute's silence as a token of our respect and sympathy for our sweet Ethel...”

Mick pushed the image of Ethel’s wrinkled and actually not-so-sweet face aside. Happily munching his bread cubes, he now recalled the memory of a pair of pale blue eyes looking at him from under the longest lashes he had ever seen. Orla O’Connell’s gorgeous, freckled face became clearer and her red-tinted lips smiled sweetly at him as Mick’s mind once again drifted off to last night, to their very first kiss on the porch swing and the ones that followed, to the moment when he had brought Orla home and when she had insisted on him staying and when she had started undressing him in the hallway and how they had barely made it to her room where they would eventually-

“Oy, creep, what are you grinning at?!” Connor’s sister, Delilah, now hissed at him, interrupting his pleasant thoughts and nudging him with her elbow a little harder than necessary. “Stop eating!”

“Ow! I’m hungry, fuck off.” Mick spat back. “Terry’s at the top o’ his game, it’ll take ages until they open up the buffet.”

“Disrespectful freak.” Delilah muttered, shaking her head and crossing her arms. She was usually all bark and no bite, Mick knew, but very irritating nonetheless.

Terry now directly looked into Mick’s direction and cleared his throat. Mick stared back at him, swallowing down his bread crumbs, suddenly seeing the many irritated faces staring at him, among them the horrified expressions of his parents.

Oh.

It was actually the second time that day someone had caught him with food and he usually would have laughed at the coincidence but considering that he was at a memorial service, he decided against it.

“Sorry!” he called.

Terry closed his eyes and sighed. “Now, one minute’s silence, please.”

Mick bit his lip. Thanks, Delilah. While he usually hated being made look silly, nothing could ruin his mood today, not even his uptight cousin. Granted, it probably was a little inappropriate to think of the things he had just thought of again at a memorial service but then again, no one could read his thoughts and wasn’t death also about celebrating life, after all?

Just as Mick’s mind wandered back to all the moments he had celebrated life with Orla last night he could feel his phone buzzing in the pocket of his suit jacket. Making sure that everyone else was still busy remembering Ethel, Mick stuffed the last few bread cubes in his mouth, pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and when he saw that the new message was from the person he hoped it would be from, a stupid-but-blissful smile spread across his face. He unlocked the screen.

I want dinner and I want to see you. Not necessarily in that order. And yes, this is me asking you out on a first real date. 💖

Swiftly scanning the room for possible watchers again and seeing that everyone was still caught up in one minute’s silence, Mick eventually looked back down on his phone, hit the reply button and started typing.

hi gorgeous

kinda in the middle of sth here but Im gonna call ya once I get out

He pressed the ‘send’ button. Not keen on provoking another awkward situation like the one that had just happened, Mick wanted to put his phone back but as he felt another buzz, he was too curious.

What kinda thing? Was that a ‘yes’, by the way?

ethels memorial service

What, Ethel died??? 😱 😱 😱

yeah last monday

You could have mentioned that at some point?!?! 😨

its fine no one actually liked her and she was old

OMG MICK WTF!!!

Torn between the excitement about meeting Orla later and the fear of getting another weird look from Terry who had just picked up his speech again, Mick eventually decided to put his phone away for now.

what

its true

talk to you later

It just occured to him that he still hadn’t let Orla know what he thought of her suggestion. Rolling his eyes at himself, he dug out his phone once more.

and yeah

that was a yes

😘

*****

Some miles away, Orla frowned at her phone’s screen, feeling mild irritation but, above all, a great rush of joy. She would call Mick out later for merely casually mentioning that he was going to be at the memorial service of a family friend that day (and also for that rather insensitive remark about no one liking said family friend, no matter how much of a truth it was) but joy had overwhelmed her. He said yes. He wanted the date.

*****

(to be continued…!)

(*) A proverb by Richard Russo, author and screenwriter.

#orla #mick #orla x mick #just a little silly drabble before bed #don't mind me I'm trash for these two lol #will polish and edit when I feel like it #*tossing out the WIPS like nothing else*#one day I will update and finish all the crap I have here #as well as all the crap I still have flying around in my drafts haha #but now off to bed!#mick sucks at texting btw #he's the annoying kind of person who writes sixteen half sentences in a row instead of writing a proper text #orla finds it adorable though #especially now that she has heart eyes for him #annoying stuff becomes endearing in that phase after all haha #ANYHOO BED #GOOD NIGHT #looking forward to writing more about my idiots SOON

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Of porch swings and trampled flowers. (rewritten scene/WIP)

It has been two rather weird months for Orla and Mick and both are trying to make up their minds about that new unspoken thing between them while they’re also trying to have a great time at their friend’s birthday party.

(TW: several mentions of very! irresponsible alcohol abuse)

******

It was only nine thirty in the evening but the party was in full swing already. Orla O’Connell made one careful step after the other through the room full of people and eventually the narrow hallway, balancing some empty glasses on a tablet, hoping that she would get them to the kitchen safely and she was relieved when she saw Damien waiting for her.

“Made it!” she laughed. “There you go, quite a big haul, eh?”

“Ah! You’re a gem!” Damien said, taking the tablet from her. “I dunno, man. Was ‘Please put your empty glasses back in the kitchen!’ too much to ask?”

“I guess, yeah. People be people.” Orla shrugged and followed her friend into the kitchen. “Are you enjoying your party?”

“Yeah, it’s been great so far! Best thing is that I saw about ten people already whom I have never met before.”

Orla laughed and she gave Damien a little pat on his shoulder. “That’s amazing, your reputation precedes you!”

“Heh!” Damien laughed. “What reputation are you even talkin’ about?” He placed the tablet next to the sink and started putting the glasses into the dishwasher.

“That you throw great parties?”

“Aw, you’re cute! However, that would rather be Mick, not me, eh?”

Orla could suddenly feel her heart beating a little faster and she tried her best to hide her excitement about the mention of Mick’s name. She merely bit her lip and nodded and let out a little laugh, doing her best to look and act entirely casual. She knew she was being silly - it was nearly impossible for Damien to have the slightest idea about her feelings, as it was for everyone else.

“Have you seen him, by the way? I know he’s here but he kinda just showed up, said hi and I haven’t seen him ever since and... ”

Orla didn’t answer. She had just stopped listening as her thoughts started wandering off like they had so often in the recent past. Her feelings for Mick had changed a little over two months ago - at the New Year’s party, to be exact. Something had happened between them that evening. Well, at least something had happened with her. Orla hadn’t been able to figure out where exactly it came from; all she knew was that there had suddenly been a moment when, for some inexplicable reason, she had the strong desire to kiss her friend.

Orla remembered the moment well - they had sat in a round with some others and everyone laughed about a little anecdote that one of their friends had just told and Orla and Mick had looked at each other for a few moments, and she had been entirely startled by her own thoughts and she couldn’t help but feel that he had noticed and maybe even felt the same.

There was the catch, though: Orla had no idea at all if Mick felt the same. There had been times when she was almost certain that he did and there had also been times when she was certain that she was merely imagining things. There had also been times when she questioned her own feelings, when she asked herself whether she was maybe just particularly fond of the idea of him and her together, that her feelings weren’t real and that she was just projecting. She had always thought of Mick as exceptionally good-looking after all. He was also cute and surprisingly sensitive, and while he could be a handful (and there was just no way around admitting that) he was always very gentle with her. A gal can get carried away so easily. Especially this gal. Orla was more than aware of her tendency to crush on every handsome lad that would cross her way and she could usually shrug those moments off with a smile.

This whole situation felt different, though, and no matter from which perspective she tried to look at it - something had definitely changed. She could no longer be in the same room with Mick without feeling like she did and she figured that it was about time to do something about it albeit she still had no idea what that something could be. She could feel frustration rise up every so often and she was afraid that this weird state would somehow affect their friendship in the long run. Whatever the outcome may be, she needed to put an end to her pathetic secret pining... although she really preferred the outcome in which he would just smile at her and bend down so their faces would be close and-

“Orla?” Damien asked, gently poking her shoulder. “Hey, you still there?”

Startled, she turned her head. Oh. “Hm?”

“Where have you been?” Damien asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uhm, sorry, kinda just drifted off for a sec. What is it?”

“Have you seen Mick?” Damien repeated his question. “I’m wondering where he went and you guys usually stick together and-”

“We do?!” Orla’s eyes went wide. “Is that what you-? Erm, I mean- I dunno where he is. Sorry. Haven’t seen him.” she said quickly and after a few moments she added “Probably somewhere outside with Declan, Ryan and Daryl. Doing something stupid, as usual.”

Damien gave her a weird look. “Okay then?” he mumbled. “Guess he’ll show up sooner or later, eh? Well, anyway, thanks for getting me those glasses back.”

“Any time. Let’s just try and make sure those idiots out there don’t wreck your entire house. And hey, my offer still counts. If you need help cleaning up tomorrow just gimme a honk, right?”

“Aw, you’re the best. It’s fine, though, my parents are only coming back in a week and Jake and Jessie already promised to help. You just go and have fun! Hey, we’re gonna have a drink and a chat later, eh?”

“You bet we are!” Orla grinned, hoping that her little awkward moment would quickly slip Damien’s mind again. “I’m gonna have a stroll ‘round the house. Just yell ‘GIN TONIC!’, and I’ll be right with you!”

“Attagirl.”

*****

It was rather unusual that Mick would disappear from a friend’s party just like that and as she left the kitchen, Orla had already made the decision to look for him. She let her eyes wander around as she walked through the rooms but there was no sight of her friend. Not anywhere. It was rather impossible to oversee him after all so it seemed that he really wasn’t here and Orla began to feel really sad and disappointed.

Could it be that he had left already? That short after he showed up, just like that, without saying goodbye?

‘Nah, he wouldn’t.’ she thought to herself, and when she came back to the hallway once more from what felt like her fifth round around the house, she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, huffing in frustration. There they were again - the doubts. The self-consciousness. The insecurity.

There was still a chance that Mick was simply avoiding her after all. Maybe he had somehow sensed her feelings. He was good at perceiving moods and other little things and as much as she cringed at the thought - it was most certainly a possibility. Maybe the thought of being with her had put him off so bad that he could no longer stand being around her. Orla let out another heavy-hearted sigh as a loud and familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“ORLA! Oh god, there you are! Get your phone ready, this is gonna be fun!” Declan called, jogging across the hallway over to her. He was a bit out of breath and needed a moment to rest, leaning against the wall by putting his hand to it and taking a deep breath before he went on. “Do us all a favour and film this. It’s grand, it’s shocking-”

“What is it?!” Orla batted Declan’s hands away as he started fumbling around with her handbag.

“Daryl just ate half a fuckin’ glass of Russian Pickled Cherries!” he told her, slightly appalled because she wasn’t as excited about that fact as he was.

“Ew, what?”

“And now he’s about to drown a bottle of whiskey for good measure. It’s gonna be so much fun, just come!” Declan took his sister by her shoulders now and pushed her through the hallway towards the living room.

“Not again! I can’t believe you guys still encourage him to do that shit, y’know, considering-“

“Aw, we’ll look after him, as usual.”

“One day, one o’ your stupid little ‘jokes’ will go wrong and put his life in-”

“I said we’ll look after him.” Declan interrupted. “We always do.”

Orla sighed. “And why can’t you use your own phone?”

“Dunno where it is, left it somewhere, just come on now! To the living room!”

“Why can’t you ever look after your things-”

“Now come!”

Just as she was about to protest some more, Orla gave it a second thought. Her little remark to Damien earlier didn’t come out of nowhere after all - if there was anything remotely stupid happening, Mick usually wasn’t far away and Daryl McKenna’s next attempt at drowning an entire bottle of whiskey while everyone was cheering for him was the epitome of stupid and while she didn’t enjoy the thought of it (or better said, the thought of what was bound to happen about half an hour later), Mick most certainly would.

The thought gave her hope. He had probably spent the last thirty minutes with Declan and Daryl and she was certain that she would eventually spot his face among the others in the living room. There was no way Mick O’Loughlin would miss a friend making a fool of themselves.

“Alright, alright, just get your hands off me already!” Orla hissed and freed herself from her brother’s grip. She eventually followed him back to the living room and she found that Declan hadn’t promised too much: most of the guests were already looking expectantly at the slightly chubby guy with the horn-rimmed glasses and the long and tousled red mane in the middle of the room, holding a bottle containing a clear golden liquid into the air. Daryl was putting on a little show, as usual, and even Orla couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him. Daryl had a good portion of charisma, she had to give him that. He knew how to entertain people, it was something he had in common with her brother.

Among the watchers was also Damien, of course, apparently torn between amusement and concern. “My parents just refurnished this room so if you gotta puke, do it outside!” he called but Daryl merely laughed his remark off.

“Get your phone out already!” Declan urged, pushing Orla a little further into the room. She rolled her eyes and pulled her phone out of her handbag, unlocking it and handing it to her brother.

“Here. Do it yourself if it’s that important to you! And don’t you dare losing or breaking it!”

“Neat!” Declan beamed as he took the phone and Orla took the opportunity to look around the room again.

There were many familiar faces but she still couldn’t spot the face she was looking for. ‘How can that be? He must be here!’ she thought, and she felt her body becoming tense.

As Daryl did his thing, the crowd cheered, as excpected, and Orla watched him with a mix of disgust, concern and also deep respect for a few moments. She smirked, as she knew he would never make it. Drowning a bottle of whiskey without facing the worst consequences was nearly impossible for anyone and not even Daryl was careless enough to take a risk like that. He would give up soon, she knew him well enough and he had done it like that before. He was usually all hot air with nothing behind it, he would pretend to have a coughing fit or something and he would put the bottle down, leave the room in a hurry and hope for the best.

At some point Orla didn’t feel like watching any longer and she certainly didn’t feel cheerful either.

“I’m out of here!” she called and patted her brother’s shoulder but Declan didn’t even take notice of her as he was concentrating on capturing the rather disturbing scene on film, probably already thinking of ways to make it go viral and Orla scoffed before making her way out of the room.

She eventually found herself back in the large kitchen. Damien had switched the lights off and Orla could now see all the little lights outside in the garden that lit the way to the Callaghan’s back porch.

Perfect. A little bit of fresh air, a smoke and some solitude would certainly help her to feel more relaxed again. She took another can of beer from the freezer, carefully opened the glass door and stepped outside, taking a deep breath. It was surprisingly warm for an evening in March and Orla strolled along the way to the back porch, enjoying the little rush of fresh air and as she gazed into the clear sky, she couldn’t help but smile at the twinkling stars.

The porch was lit by a few lights on the ground. As soon as she reached it, Orla could hear a faint creak and she drew her eyebrows together in confusion but when she saw what, or better said, who had caused the noise, she let out a surprised laugh.

*****

“There you are!”

Mick O’Loughlin sat on the porch swing all by himself, slowly moving it back and forth with his legs. When he heard Orla talk, he looked up but his expression was difficult to read. He didn’t say anything and merely shrugged.

“You’re missing all the action, y’know.” Orla tried again after a few moments.

“What action?”

“Daryl emptied an entire glass of Russian Pickled Cherries and now he’s attempting to drown an entire bottle of whiskey.”

“Again?”

“He’s Daryl. We always knew he’d try it again at some point.”

“True. He’s stupid.”

“Yeah, he is.”

Silence.

“What’s it with you today?” Orla eventually asked, moving a little closer to the porch.

“Nothin’.”

“You been sitting here all night or what?”

“Kind of.”

Mick still didn’t really look at her and Orla felt the frustration rising inside her again. She began to worry whether he even wanted her around.

“I brought beer! Can I sit with you for a bit? Or do you want me to go?”

“Mh-mh.” Mick shook his head.

"You don’t want me to sit?” Orla asked carefully. He was obviously in one of his weird moods.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Orla smiled and instantly felt a little better.

“Okay then. Move over.”

At least he could stand being around her so his mood probably wasn’t about her. She stepped on the porch and sat down next to him, looking at his profile for a few moments. Still curious about what had caused his mood, she took the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers and took a drag.

Together they moved the swing back and forth in silence a few times before Orla dared to speak again.

“What’s up with you?” she asked, her voice soft now.

“Nothin’.”

“It ain’t nothing! I’ve known you since forever, don’t you forget that?”

“Just not really in a party mood, I guess.” he sighed.

“You’re still here, though. What’s keeping you from going home if you’re not feelin’ it?”

Mick now looked at her, raising an eyebrow, and Orla facepalmed herself in her thoughts. “I mean, I don’t want you to go, of course, but, I mean, you could?” After a few moments she added: “I’m sure everyone would understand.”

Again, silence.

“Hey, I’m worried. You’re being weird!”

Still no answer.

“Come on, you gotta give me something to work with, Mick!” Orla now cried out impatiently, half-amused, half-desperate.

Mick now groaned and leaned back, stretching out his long legs. “It’s nothing!” he insisted and snatched his cigarette back from Orla’s hands, taking one last drag before flicking it away.

“I don’t believe you! You’re so bad at lying, it’s ridiculous!”

“Well, fine, there’s somethin’ but I dun’ - I mean. I dunno how t’ bring it up without soundin’ like a total fucktard.”

‘Fine, we’re making progress’, Orla thought. “Hey, you’re talkin’ to me and you never cared about that before. Speaking fucktard is what we do, it’s our thing!” she laughed.

“Not this time, though.”

“Why not? Just tell me what’s wrong, please!” she pleaded again, starting to feel really worried.

“ Orla, I- god, it’s so stupid.” Finally, he looked into her face. “Did I, like... do anythin’? Have I somehow pissed y’ off or so? Have ya been avoidin’ me?”

Orla frowned. The question took her by surprise. “What? What makes you think so?”

“I dunno either, it’s just -” Mick bit his lip. “I dunno, I feel y’ have been tryin’ to avoid me.”

“Wha- no. What? No! No, I-” Orla stammered. This conversation had just taken an unexpected turn. “To be honest, I was- I was wondering the same. About you, I mean. That you’ve been avoidin’ me! At least sometimes.”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Well, why would I?”

They looked at each other for a few moments, dumbstruck, and Orla’s heart started beating faster again. She still didn’t know what to make of this moment but at least it seemed that she hadn’t been the only one noticing that something was very, very different.

“I dunno.” Mick sighed, looking back to his hands in his lap. “Shit’s been hella weird since New Year. Right? Tell me I’m not just seein’ things, please.”

Alright. Now was the moment. Orla felt an odd rush of relief washing over her and she moved a little closer - no matter what, they would settle this now and she would finally be able to move on.

At least that was what she hoped.

“You’re not seeing things.” she admitted. “I dunno either but... oh lord.”

Orla looked into Mick’s eyes. The porch was lit just enough so she could see a little spark in them and her little wave of relief instantly faded and the sheer nervousness was back.

This was probably the hardest thing she would ever have to do.

She took another deep breath. “I’ve been... getting lost in thoughts every now and then, y’know. About you. And me. And what I would like to do but... can’t because I’m an anxious wimp.”

“Thoughts? Y' mean... ?” he asked, surprised, but otherwise his expression was once again hard to read.

“Ugh, I don’t know, okay? I just- I’ve been wondering if we could maybe- I don’t know.” Orla looked away again and closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking. No, her entire body was shaking. She was really close to having a panic attack now and, all of a sudden, the prospect of a few more months filled with secret pining wasn’t all too bad.

This particular moment had been so much easier in all her wild theories. Also, much more elegant. She felt like an idiot - this was huge and she didn’t feel ready at all. “Just forget about it, okay? Maybe we should just go back inside and see what-”

She stopped mid-sentence because Mick had just reached over and taken one of her hands in his, intertwining his fingers with hers. Her heart skipped a beat.

Oh my god! she thought. What is happening? Is this really happening?

“If I’m guessin’ right now, well.” he shrugged. “I’ve been a fuckin’ wimp, too.”

“How can you be so cool and calm about all this?” Orla gasped, still not believing that this was actually happening.

Mick now let out a laugh, sounding baffled. “Wow, what? I’m not. It’s just- it kinda makes sense now, doesn’t it?” He gently brushed her thumb with his and squeezed her hand gently.

Orla closed her eyes again, breathing in and enjoying the affectionate little gesture. This was all new territory now. It didn’t even feel wrong. In fact, it felt very, very right.

“So I take it you’ve been, well... wondering, too?”

“Aye, I’ve been wonderin’.”

Could it really be this easy? Was this really the way to solve the issue? Shouldn’t there be more talking and elaborating? A battle plan or maybe at least a little bit more of thinking it through?

“I still don’t know if this- if we- if this is a good idea.” Orla stammered. “We’ve been friends for so long now, don‘t you think it’s weird? At least a little bit?”

Mick shrugged before he eventually tilted down his head a little, leaning in for a much anticipated kiss and although her heart (and lips) had been longing for this moment for weeks now, Orla wasn’t quite convinced yet.

“What if this goes wrong? I couldn’t stand to lose-” she breathed out but as her lips accidentally brushed his now, she was unable to go on. Her eyes were still closed and her lips slightly parted.

“Why would it go wrong?” he murmured back, putting his free hand to the back of her neck, gently tickling it. “Please dun’ leave me hangin’ now.”

Orla let out a funny little whimper, somewhere between fear and excitement. She knew there was no going back now anyway, too much had happened between them within the last five minutes alone, and so she finally let it happen.

The kiss was everything she had hoped it would be and more; sweet and full of longing and it tasted like so much more and she could feel an entire army of butterflies going wild in her stomach and after a little while, Orla drew back her hand that was still in his, reaching up and cradling his face in both of her hands now, losing herself in the bliss of the moment.

When they broke apart, only a few inches, after what felt like five hours later, merely to catch some air and not actually letting go of each other, Orla chuckled, playing with Mick’s hair at the back of his head. “Shouldn’t we go back inside?” she managed to say, her breath shaking and her heart still beating fast.

“Ya wanna go back inside?” he murmured against the side of her neck, nuzzling it, sending a tingling sensation down her spine.

“If you keep doing this, I’d rather drag you into that garden shed over there and do a little more to you than this.” she gasped.

“Temptin’.” Mick smiled against her skin as he proceeded to gently tilting up her chin, giving her another kiss and biting her lower lip.

‘Holy shit, where did he learn that?!’ Orla thought to herself, eventually pulling him into another kiss, a rather hot one this time. Her hand crept under his shirt and when he didn’t object (not that she expected him to), she let the other one follow, enjoying the warmth of his skin against her.

“Damien already asked about you.” Orla murmured after another little while, in between heated kisses.

Mick eventually pulled away and looked at her in disbelief. “What? We’re kinda in the middle of somethin’ here and y' think about Damien?”

“Nah, I just- it’s kinda rude, isn’t it?” Orla shrugged, biting her lip now. “He’s our friend and it’s not even close to midnight and we’re party guests after all... I dunno, I think we’re being rude.”

“Eh, so I guess that means ‘Bye bye, garden shed.’” Mick moaned in utter dismay, leaning against the backrest of the swing again and letting out a dramatic little sigh, but Orla knew he was only mocking her.

“You’re a horrible person, O’Loughlin. Alright, five more minutes. Go!” she encouraged him, making a little gesture with her hands that told him to come closer again.

“Naw, y' can’t just switch me on and off and on again, like fuckin’ television?”

“Why are you being weird now? Just do what I say for once?” Orla reached for his face again, cackling and trying to pull him close.

Mick chimed in laughing now, pulling away from her as far as he could. “I’m a human being, I have feelings!”

“Stop fighting and. Make. Out. With me. NOW!” she urged, laughing and making a silly kissy face at him. “I know you wanna! MWAH!”

“Not when ya make that face!” Mick now tried to push her face away with one hand (as carefully as he could, of course - he didn’t want to hurt her after all).

“You’re terrible, I hate you!” Orla giggled.

“Naw, ya don’t- OW, fuck OFF!” Mick cried out and swiftly pulled his hand away from Orla’s face - she had just bitten his thumb. He looked at his hand and then back at Orla, eyes wide in shock.

“That’s what you get for being like this, arsehole? You can’t win this anyway, just give in to me and my charming advances.”

“Tsk.” Mick scoffed but he was all too happy to oblige. Orla scooted closer, pulling him into another kiss, sweet and gentle again and she wondered why she even brought up the idea of going back inside and joining the party again - she didn’t really feel like it after all.

Just five more minutes. she thought. Maybe ten. Maybe sixty.

Just as she was getting lost in the moment again, a loud noise pierced the air. The sound of what appeared to be shattering pottery had both of them jump apart in shock but that alone was nothing compared to the following howling of some very familiar voices and both Orla and Mick looked over to where the noises were coming from.

“AYYEE, SORRY BUD. Didn’ see ye over there, man!” Daryl cried out, failing to supress a laugh.

“YOU BROKE A POT!” Ryan Boone, Daryl’s best friend, stated the obvious.

“SHHHH I KNOooOOoooOW!” Daryl hissed, still not able to stop his giggling. “We can’t let Damien know, he’ll be MAD!”

Orla and Mick looked at each other. As much as both would’ve loved to keep their moment up - the mood was definitely ruined for now.

“I dunno know about you, but I really dun’ need these two idiots seein’ us like this.” Mick mumbled, biting his lip.

“Me neither.” Orla sighed. “Okay, you go and look what those morons are doing over there and I sneak my way around the bushes and pretend to come out of the house, how’s that?”

“Sounds good.” Mick agreed and as Orla was about to get up, he held her back. “Eh, Orla?”

“Mh?”

“One for the road.” He pulled her down into one last kiss. It may have been the shortest of the few they had shared until now, but it was the one that almost knocked Orla off her feet and left her breathless and dizzy and for a second, the garden shed option came back to her mind but she did her best to brush it off. Not now. It was all going so fast and while she hated the interruption, she decided to take the chance to recollect herself a little. Couldn’t hurt.

“Now go, I see ya in a minute.” Mick stood up and gave her one last smile before he darted around the corner.

*****

“What the fuck are you doin’ here, man?” Mick called at his two friends as he stepped around the corner.

“HE’S ALIVE!” Daryl roared as he recognised the tall and slim figure walking their way. He stumbled towards his friend, arms wide open.

“No, Daryl, NO, you’re too drunk to walk, come back!” Ryan called after his friend. “Oh my god, just listen for once. Seriously, though, Mick, where have you been?”

“Didn’t feel well, needed a minute.” Mick answered as Daryl flung his arms around him. “So I heard ya did the whiskey thing again, how’d that go for ya?”

“He’s drunk and broke a pot.” Ryan pointed at the pile of fragments to his feet.

“YeahIdid.” Daryl slurred, eyes closed, quite obviously not feeling all too well.

Looking at the mess at Ryan’s feet, Mick bit his lip, now dragging the drunk Daryl with him who was still clinging firmly to his waist. “Yeah, you did.”

“I didn’ meanto...” Daryl murmured, apparently having a hard time to stand on his feet.

Mick patted his head a little, trying his best not to laugh. “Naw, ‘course not.”

“What’s going on here, guys?” a familiar female voice called from across the lawn. Orla quickly walked over to the three of them, her eyes narrow in confusion. She looked at the scene, putting her hands to her waist and letting out a sigh.

“Daryl’s drunk, Ryan’s desperate and that pot down ‘ere is fucked.” Mick curtly explained the situation to her. He couldn’t help himself - he flashed her a little smile which she returned. It’s not like Ryan or Daryl had any clue about what had happened between them just a few minutes ago.

Orla felt it would be wiser to get back to acting like nothing happened, though, so she regained her posture and when she looked around the garden, something else caught her attention. “Oh NO, Daryl, you trampled all the flowers!” she cried. “Damien will be pissed, why do you always make such a huge mess wherever you go?”

“Idin’meanto!” Daryl whined. Apparently he had just reached the stage in which he could merely let out weird noises.

Orla sighed. “Declan’s drunk as well. I don’t know how he did it within the short time I let him out of sight but he’s singin’ along to Queen with Jessie-”

“DECLAN! I’M COMIN’!” Daryl suddenly cried out, eventually letting go of Mick and stumbling towards the house with flailing arms. He looked hilarious.

“Daryl!” Ryan called after him again in despair. “Watch out- ah, fuck it, you never listen anyway.” He looked at Mick and then at Orla, and his face lit up as he took a giant step over to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “You look ravishing as usual, Miss O’Connell. You’re free tonight?!”

“What-” Orla grimaced but Mick already stepped in.

“Alright, time to get back in and take care of Daryl and Declan!” he said firmly, squeezing himself between the two, putting an arm around each of them. “C’mon, let’s go! Go!”

And as they made their way back to the like that, Orla couldn’t help herself. To let him know that their moment wasn’t over just yet, she slid her hand into the back pocket of Mick’s jeans. He didn‘t look at her but she could see him smile and as she felt his finger brushing the side of her neck she was certain that the remainder of this evening was going to be just grand.

*****

“So, Damien and I put Daryl into the guest room. He’s sound asleep.” Mick told Orla as he took her by her upper arm, guiding her around the corner into the kitchen.

“Thank god.” Orla sighed. “He should really stop acting like that.”

“Aye, he should, but what can ya do. Any news from Declan?”

“Well, Jessie said he’s cradling his Jameson and has regressed to some weird toddler state. He squeaks and cries any time someone tries to take his bottle away.”

Mick closed his eyes and bit his lip as he tried not to laugh. “Beautiful.”

“However, I regret to inform you that Ryan and Jessie have now claimed the garden.” Orla sighed. “I don’t know what exactly they’re doing over there but it looked like some sort of a séance or so. They’re whispering really weird incantations together.”

“What the hell?”

“Just... don’t ask.” Orla shook her head.

“Jessie’s so cute when she’s drunk.”

“I know, right?” Orla laughed and she looked back up to Mick again. “Well. I’d love to pick up where we left off earlier but all the rooms are full of people.”

“Yeah. Ya never know who’s watchin’.”

“The kitchen is empty, though.” Orla smiled. She looked down and up again, taking the chance to grab Mick by his belt and dragging him further into the kitchen.

He played along and followed her with a little smirk but nodded at the glass door, towards the garden where Jessie and Ryan were currently having what looked like a serious laughing fit. “What about those two out there?”

“Ah, they’re busy necromancing.” Orla shrugged, letting her hands wander up his chest before standing up on her tiptoes and putting her arms around his neck.

“They could still see us?” Mick noted but he found himself not really caring that much as he pulled Orla a little closer now.

“The kitchen light is off and hey, if they should see anything, we can still tell them that they’ve been seeing ghosts.”

“Hm!” That was enough for an answer and Mick threw his doubts overboard with a little shrug before he smiled and bent down to kiss Orla once more and just before the two could get lost in the moment again, they heard someone howl nearby.

“WOW, it’s dark in here!” a female voice cried.

Orla and Mick jumped apart again, quick enough before the intruder turned on the light, both letting out a faint-but-exasperated groan.

“Oh my god...” Mick moaned and he and Orla both shielded their eyes from the light. “What the fuck, who are you?”

The girl let out a stupid laugh. “I’m Linda. I’m Damien’s classmate. And yoouu... are incredibly cute. A little rude, but cute.” Linda slurred as she made a step towards Mick, who merely frowned and backed away.

“And you and I need to leave,” Orla interrupted her. “You’re drunk and you should sit.” she added, trying to put on her nicest smile as she grabbed Linda by her shoulders, pretending that she was just a gal worried about another gal in solidarity. As she guided the girl out of the kitchen, she turned around to Mick who merely put on a slightly disgruntled expression that told her “Go off, it’s fine.” before he crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

Orla tried to mouth the words “I’ll be right back!” at him but when Linda made a weird retching noise, she made a face in disgust, “Eugh.”, and darted out of the kitchen to the next loo as quickly as she could, pulling the drunk girl with her.

*****

“Alright, I guess she’s fine, I put her into the room where Daryl is and-” Orla looked around the kitchen that was still lit but Mick was no longer there.

“Shit.” she grumbled as she let her shoulders drop in frustration, putting her hands to her hips and pressing her lips into a thin line. The Callaghans had a large house and yet it was practically impossible for two people finding some privacy.

“Damn you, Linda.” Orla muttered and she turned off the light as she left the kitchen, eager to look for Mick a second time this evening.

*****

(to be continued)

#orla #mick #orla x mick #made some minor edits and will maybe do some more later once I'm home #god I love my idiots so much lol #I could write six books about them and the side idiots alone

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