nobody's fool .

[aisha van buren]

Laughter spills forth and he can't keep the grin off his face, his naturally optimistic nature enflamed in her company. The idea of sharing with Ethan was not as reprehensible as it might have seemed - Caesar had forever longed for a son, even as a self-obsessed teenager the idea of having a mini me around to bring up had been a desirable one. He supposed that that was probably a manifestation of his self obsession, now that he thought of it. But since having Tate he had realized how difficult it was, how he felt the burden to keep him on the straight and narrow that tiny bit more than he had with the daughters that came before. Maybe that could be attributed to the fact that he was a parent of three by the time Tate came along, but somehow he didn't think so. "I think he'd get bored of me as soon as he realized how intellectually inferior I am," he said, intending it as a joke but meaning it too. Ethan was a studious, intelligent kid, very much Sam's son. Tate had always cared more about Lamborghinis than rockets.  Her washing up protests fall on deaf ears as the man deftly takes the crockery from her hands. Really it wouldn't take long for her to rinse and clean the few plates, but the principle offends him, the idea that she would spend even a few precious moments of their exclusive time together on washing up is unbearable to contemplate. "Alright, you can do the washing up," he said, taking the tea towel away from her, "just not while I'm still here. How rude Vegas, I'm a guest." Soon they're close, his arm enclosing her against the island, her head suddenly against his chest. His heart is pumping so hard against his chest it feels as though it's about to burst though. Her fingers find the back of his neck and send goosebumps across his skin, her breath tantalizingly warm against his cheek as she speaks... then she's pulling away, and Caesar audibly groans. "I'm no such thing," he lies, pouring her a hefty helping of her boozy tea. He puts a firm hand on hers as she closes a tupperware carton, urging her to stop. "I promise you haven't missed me as much as I've missed you." ......................... notes: n o t h i n g , can I blame my severe toothache? music: silence

[charlotte lemeir]

She's sympathetic for him when he mentions he interior he is compared to Ethan, “awh, babe. That's okay, we all are.” Ethan was a mix of the better qualities of her and Sam. He took his level headedness, leaving her hysterics behind. But he also took her patience and left Sam's ability to become frustrated over mistakes. While Charlotte took both her and Caesar's bad and good qualities (she was over hysterical over little things and petty as hell), Ethan was good right down to his core. Then, he was only ten and there were still upcoming years of teenage hormones for him to figure out what made him tick. The two children she attained from her past relationships were similar but different, extracting qualities from their parents and upbringing. She'd always wondered how Charlotte could have been if they'd stayed a family, but these thoughts would quickly be put to rest when she remembered how thankful she was for her other child. Vegas smiles through his protests and waving his hand off hers, “it'll take five seconds.” She compiles the bacon in one container and eggs and pancakes in a separate one – as recently vegetarian Ethan would be the type to squirm over bacon touching his food. She moves the containers into the fridge and leans against it as she closes it, “there. Five seconds, I told you. Her hand closes around the cold glass and she brings the rim to her plush lips. The alcohol has lost it's initial shock and is smooth on her tongue; dangerous under supervision of the tanned blonde. “Ooooh, twenty-somethings aren't cutting it anymore?” She cheeky, leaning over the counter and pulling the jug of booze toward her. “I missed everything, tell me what you missed? Specifics, flatter me,” her words fade as she leaves the kitchen and enters the living room, taking the jug of booze with her. She plops her thin frame onto the couch and places the jug in the middle of a chess game, “tell me what I have that Miss Playboy Bunny didn't.” ......................... notes: I'll never be not rambly. FEEL BETTER. music: Jesse Hughes interview.

[aisha van buren]

He watches as her cautious hands separate the food and stow it away in the refrigerator. It was incredible to think of those same hands performing intricate heart surgery, those hands saving lives, the hands that had mopped his daughter's brow, the fingers that he had intertwined his with as a teenager. She was truly a remarkable person and always had been, it was no surprise that her children had wound up the same way. Everything about their relationship was something of a contradiction - he couldn't imagine his life without her, and yet he couldn't quite believe that their lives were still so intertwined, that through all his fuck ups she remained a constant. He had said it to her and she hadn't believed him but it was true, every minute she had spent being his better half was a minute he was grateful for, surprised by, and expected to be the last. This was in stark contrast to Daisy, who was so much more erratic in her attitude to him and yet he had always assumed would be a permanent fixture in his life. If he could tell his young self that Vegas would still be around now that he was most definitely in middle age, not just tolerating him but even seeming to enjoy his company, his younger self would never have believed him. And yet here they were. "Oh, twenty somethings have a lot to offer," he said, swiping her glass to take a sip. "But no, nothing on you." Following her into the other room, he's contemplating how honest to be... he decides fully, because a) he's not a man to do things by halves, and b) he was certainly not a man to do things by halves when drunk. Flopping himself down beside her, he let out a dramatic groan, making a big show of pretending to think. "Let's see, let's see. I mean, she did have DDs. Natural, too. Fake lips, an accommodating nature..." he drifts, pretending to be lost in a pleasant trip down memory lane. Finally he looks at her, a smile on his face though he looks her in the eye, clearly readying himself for a dose of honesty. "It's hard to know where to begin. You're the mother of my child, and you've done such an incredible job, Lottie's my pride and joy and an absolute testament to her mother. Beyond that, you've got this whole galaxy of small things that amount to making you a remarkable person... When I was younger I used to love getting messages from you, but not in the usual way, not 'cause I was satisfied that you were interested enough to get in touch. But because I actually wanted to talk to you. That sounds so minor, but remember me at seventeen! You read me like a book, and not just me, you inspire the people around you to be the best versions of themselves. You're strong but so forgiving, kind but firm, driven but empathetic. All these perfect contradictions." He cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. "But I mean, Scarlett gave one hell of a blowjob, so it evens out." ......................... notes: I. LOVE. THEM. music: silence.

[charlotte lemeir]

Vegas curls her legs beneath her and props her arm up on the back of the sofa, turning to face him. Her head falls to rest on the crook of her arm and she's almost childlike as she listens to him. She shakes her head and laughs a little when he tries to defer the subject. Her heart turns warm when he becomes sentimental, her long lashes batting gently as she watches him speak. The fern in front of the window casts an artistic shadow on his features, it's long leafs stripe his cheekbones while the golden light of the sun hits his greying facial hair. Her drink hits the halfway point and she's beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol. Her pale cheeks are a rosy pink and her filtered laughter is turning into giggles. The glass is cool against her lips and slick with the condensation of a cool drink. Caesar talks and she feels herself bursting with all sorts of affection. She wants to reach and touch, to talk and to hold. It's the good kind of alcoholic buzz and a good one to iron out the awkward tension that previously existed. “I know it's been twenty years, but how could you forget the gifts these lips gave?” she grins, looking down and raking her hand through her dark hair. “It's funny how you say that, because I think this version of myself is an after effect of you. I try to be all those things, but with you I never really had to try... probably because you gave me so many opportunities to forgive,” she twirls her drink in her glass and grins mischievously, “I'm kidding.. sort of.” She sips away and thinks for a minute, her eyes looking outside at the blue sky. “It's funny how I shared my life with two very different men. I went with Sam because he was the polar opposite of you, but here we are sharing drinks and breakfast like when went to bed last night and had a twenty year dream.” ......................... notes: rlly my favourites music: nothing.