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Neutral
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Adelaide watched as he unceremoniosusly stripped her shirt, fingers shaking as they fumbled with the fabric. Her brow quirked as he began to fiddle with the strings of his sweatpants, seemingly debating stripping entirely. She refused to look from his face, despite the tantalizing stretch of skin now at eye level. She didn't miss the flair of annoyance in his eyes - at her, maybe? Not that she cared much now. She had downed the glass far quicker than she should have, and already the satisfying buzz of expensive wine was reaching her head. Once Beaudan spoke, though all traces of alcholic lightness vanished. His voice was weak, nearly broken, and she instinctively reached out, a sympathetic hand placed on his arm. Soft, delicate kisses trailed up her neck, and she sighed as she allowed her hand to rub soothing lines in his skin. Perhaps all was not unsalvageable, then. She had believed he was apologizing to her, at first. In his drunken haze, he may very well have been, but his thoughts soon ventured into territory she was unsure of. The unmentioned sister - Eden, then. Eddie must be a family nickname. His comment of two siblings threw her off, though. Eden had left, that much was certain to her. Taken off, started a new life away from the estate, most likely. She knew the brothers were attached to her, knew that her loss had cut deep within them all. Though she wasn't around them at all hours, she'd not heard a phone call, despite the tension that resurfaced every time Eden was mentioned. Adelaide knew that feeling all too well. The sudden shift in emotion, coupled with Beaudan's sudden slump against her, threw her off momentarily, and the words he spoke almost didn't register. Her hand tightened on his arm as she let out a puff of air, brow furrowing. Death? The family rarely mentioned Eden, sure, but there had been no indication of a fifth sibling. No pictures that she had seen in the estate, at the lodge. She hadn't had time to explore this home yet, but she was almost sure she wouldn't find any new faces here, either. "Beau," she whispered, the word feather-soft as it puffed across his skin. Her hand abandoned his arm, reaching to cup his face instead. She didn't attempt to guide his eyes to her, didn't attempt to lift his head. She simply allowed her hand to exist, pressed into his skin as her other arm came to wrap around his waist. The angle was slightly uncomfortable, his extra inches causing his spine to bend slightly, but she held on nonetheless, allowing his emotions to rage as he drunkenly processed whatever war he was waging in his mind. She felt her own eyes sting, throat closing tightly as she prepared herself for the onslaught that may or may not come. She was learning that Beaudan either allowed his emotions to flow, or locked them deep within, and she wasn't sure which would reward her prying. Regardless, she tried. "Beau, baby," she cooed, gently coaxing him. "What do you mean? Who died? Eden's still alive, isn't she? She's still here, just off on her own." Her hand moved, carding through his hair in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. She wasn't quite sure what to do - hadn't been close enough to anybody to manage their emotional baggage in years. Even then, she had never been good at providing comfort. Still, she tried, gently brushing his hair back from his face, peppering kisses along his forehead as she allowed him to express what he needed to. - After he was done, properly drained, she reached for his hands. "Okay, okay. It's okay. You're drunk, and very tired. Let's go to bed, yes?" Carefully, she pulled his hands, urging him to follow her as she coaxed him into the foyer, up the stairs, to his door. She pushed it open gently, pulling him in and pushing him softly to his bed. She perched on the edge, still petting his hair as she tried to think through the emotional turmoil he was carrying. "Alright, baby. Get some sleep. We can talk more when you're rested and sober, yes? Sound okay to you?" |
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Darkseeker
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Beaudan's thoughts drifted, scattered like fallen leaves caught in the wind. His attention span, already tenuous on his best days, was utterly fractured by the wine coursing through his veins. The dull ache in his body—the bruises on his torso, the faint sting of the marks on his neck from Splat—blurred into the background noise of his misery. He couldn’t remember when it had happened. Last night? Two nights ago? It hardly mattered. Time had lost meaning. He felt like a crumpled piece of paper, folded and refolded into something grotesque, never to return to its original shape. A soft hum escaped him as his fingers trailed along Adelaide’s sides. Her skin was warm and pliant beneath his touch, and he pressed his fingers higher, finding the ridge of her ribs, lingering there as if the physical sensation could anchor him. He nosed into the dip of her collarbone, his lips clumsy with alcohol, leaving sloppy, uneven kisses in his wake. “Edie’s fine,” he mumbled, though his voice lacked conviction. “Just gone. Gone to LA ‘cause Mummy wouldn’t stop harping on her.” He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “S’a shame she didn’t see that one coming.” His words stumbled into the air, barely coherent, as he tried and failed to stay on topic. But his mind was a treacherous place, full of jagged edges he didn’t want to touch. It was easier to stay here, in the warmth of her presence, letting his body speak where his words failed. Yet Adelaide was clearly losing patience with his unwillingness to be open. He could see it in the stiffness of her shoulders, in the way she pulled away, the scent of wine and sweat no longer enough to keep her close. He followed her anyway, like a puppy too drunk and too tired to understand its own boundaries. His shirt hung loosely from his fingers, barely hooked on the soft tips, and he padded down the hall behind her, barefoot and blinking sleepily. He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers with a laziness that belied his desperation. “You are lost and gone forever,” he murmured, the line half-sung, his voice soft and plaintive. “Dreadful sorry, Clementine. She had blonde hair, you know. Strawberry blonde. The water…” His voice trailed off, a shadow passing over his features as he shook his head ruefully. “And now there’s only four of us. And Aunt Zara misses her.” When they reached the bedroom, Beau collapsed onto the bed with his usual lack of grace, sprawling across the sheets like a starfish. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the room spinning lazily around him. He was burning up, his skin slick with sweat, and yet the heat felt like it came from within, impossible to escape. Adelaide settled beside him, and he immediately nuzzled closer, seeking comfort in her nearness. The alcohol amplified everything—the desperation, the sorrow, the aching need for something to distract him from the storm raging in his mind. “Can I take sleeping pills?” he slurred, the words tumbling out in a garbled mess. He rolled onto his side, his damp skin pressing against hers, his fingers curling weakly into the fabric of her shirt. “It’s so hot. Edie, please. Let us swim in the fountains.” His voice broke on the last words, childlike in its pleading. His mind had retreated into memories and fragments of longing, reaching for something he couldn’t quite name. The past, the present, and the future blurred together, and all Beau could do was cling to Adelaide, hoping she’d hold him together when he couldn’t do it himself. |
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Neutral
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Adelaide wasn't entire sure what to do. She stood, one hand still gripping Beaudan as she used the other to shakily rummage through his bag, digging until she found a prescription bottle with sleeping pill in it. She read the direction, nodding to herself. "Ill be right back, Beau. I just need to get you some water, okay?" Her steps were quick as she descended the stairs, flying into the kitched and opening cupboards until she found a glass. She filled it with tap water, wincing at the faint smell of chlorine - it would have to do for now, she decided. Beaudan would hardly notice the taste. The tap on the fridge would have gone too slow for her liking. Carefully, she balanced the glass and the pills in one hand, using the other to grip the railing as she ascended to his room. He was half asleep, still muttering delirious thoughts to himself as she twisted the cap, dispensing one of the pills. "Here, baby," she murmured, holding the glass for him. Once he had taken the pill, she shuffled to the edge of the bed, tracing circles on his calf as she waited for him to fall asleep. As she sat, she began to unravel the mess he had lay before her. Someone dead - that much was clear, though he had mentioned his Aunt Zara, so she wasn't able to discern whether it was actually a sibling, or if his drunked haze was muddling the details as they escaped him. He had mentioned the water a few times now, and she shuddered to think of what the correlation was. Drowning had always been an irrational fear of hers - she could swim, rarely entered the ocean, but it still clambored for space in her mind every time she entered a body of water. Now, it seemed, perhaps her fear wasn't so irrational. Of course, she couldn't take his words at face value now, she knew, and she hoped that he was simply meshing stories together. In addition to the shocking revelation, she had learned more about Eden than she believed she ever would. Not by words alone, for Beaudan still spoke little of her, but by the emotion he expressed when he spoke her name, when his fragmented memories brought her to light. He adored her - loved her more than Adelaide had seen him love either of his brothers thus far. Another piece for her to add to the growing puzzle that was Eden. More than ever, Adelaide desired to meet her, to see her in the flesh and talk to her. She wanted to know Eden. The factor in Beaudan's life was a strong portion - Adelaide wanted to know everything he knew, wanted to be able to love everything he loved. She was quickly realizing that Beaudan was the deep end of the pool, and by entangling herself with him, she had jumped headfirst. More than that, though, she wanted to know if her assumption was correct. If Eden was like her own sister had been years ago, long before Adelaide split from her family. Wanted to experience the enigmatic personality that had torn a void in the boys she was now surrounded by. Maybe she wanted to fill a void in her own heart, replace what once was with what could be. That was too complex of a thought, though, and she pushed it to the back of her mind as easily as she pushed herself up against Beaudan. encircling him with her arms. His breathing had evened, no longer erratic, and she felt her own heart calm in response. As her eyes flickered shut, her last thoughts were of a strawberry blonde head disappearing beneath the waves. |
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Darkseeker
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A pounding headache dragged Beau from the abyss of sleep, a relentless thrum in his skull that seemed to match the rays of sunlight assaulting his senses. Even the frescoes on the wall across from him, usually a source of passive beauty, now seemed gaudy and offensive in their brightness. He groaned, rolling onto his back to escape the light pouring in through the window. The heat of another body beside him startled him, his mind briefly jumping to the worst-case scenario. The last thing he needed was to turn over and find wide, innocent dark eyes and messy curls—a familiar and unwelcome sight he could never live down. But when he glanced over, relief washed through him. Feminine, but not like Hollis. He sighed, wiping sleep from his eyes, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together the previous night. Fragments of sadness floated in his memory, the bitter tang of wine clinging to them. Two bottles? Maybe three? The throbbing in his head and the taste of regret in his mouth suggested he’d overindulged far more than he could afford to. Untangling himself from the sheets, Beau cringed at the sticky feeling of sweat and the lingering haze of alcohol in his system. He padded to the bathroom, the cold water of the shower shocking him into a semblance of wakefulness. It didn’t do much for the sour taste in his mouth or the emptiness pressing against his chest, but the fresh clothes helped him look a bit more like himself, even if he felt like a stranger in his own skin. The house was eerily quiet. Too quiet. His brothers were likely still sleeping, oblivious to the chaos that had bloomed in him overnight. Beau wandered into the kitchen, his eyes immediately landing on the empty wine bottles still on the counter. The sight stirred a mix of guilt and self-loathing. He’d polished off both bottles on his own, hadn’t he? At least mostly. A glass of water helped dull the sharp edges of dehydration, but it wasn’t enough to calm the gnawing ache in his head or the deeper one in his heart. Eden. Her absence felt like a wound that wouldn’t close, and his fingers twitched toward the phone lying on the counter. Her number was etched into his memory, as familiar as breathing, but he hesitated. What could he even say? Beau shoved the phone into his pocket, pressing his hip against the counter as he poured another glass of water. His stomach churned ominously, a feeling he stubbornly ignored until it became unavoidable. The nausea hit like a wave, sending him stumbling to the sink. He barely managed to push his hair out of his face before the contents of his stomach emptied into the basin. The sharp, acidic sting in his throat was unpleasant, but his mind latched onto an irrelevant detail: his hair was too long. It brushed against his face when he bent forward, a tactile reminder of how much he looked like the boy in the old portraits lining the halls. Without thinking, his feet carried him to that familiar corridor. The sibling photo loomed large, a snapshot of a time when things were simpler. Eden’s arms were slung around his neck, her laugh frozen in time as his own joy mirrored hers. His hair had been nearly shoulder-length then, curling slightly at the ends. Callum stood tall, wearing a rare genuine smile as he pinched Dallas’s shoulder, coaxing a laugh that made the picture feel alive. And in the corner, a blur of a moving person, a waving hand, a flash of blonde hair. Beau pressed his forehead against the cool wall, his eyes closing as a wave of longing overtook him. He’d never missed his siblings more. The ache for them was primal, an unspoken need for the kind of love only they could give. "I’d give anything to have us all back here," he whispered to the empty hall, the silence answering him with its own kind of empty sadness. |
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Neutral
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Adelaide woke to the sound of the door closing, and she reached over to feel the rapidly cooling covers beside her. Beaudan had left, and a bitter pang struck deep in her chest. Was this how he had felt when he woke to her gone two mornings ago? The thought was upsetting. She allowed him a bit of space, taking her time as she roused from the bed. Before she left the room, she remade it, tucking the corners nicely, and looked at Beaudan's bags before deciding against it. She had always stress cleaned, had since she was young, but she didn't feel as though she was in a position to disrupt Beaudan's belongings. Instead, she made her way to her own room, finally unpacking the things she had brought. Luckily, she had yet to lose anything in their travels, and she was grateful as she pulled out her change of clothes - a pair of shorts and a soft sweater. The weather had been warm yesterday, but as the seasons faded to winter, she was thankful for the warmth of sleeves. When she entered the bathroom, she was met with no steam, but a dripping faucet to indicate someone had been here. She showered quickly, dressing in her clothing before padding down the hall. As she rounded the corner, she found Beaudan, face pressed into the wall, absently staring at the portrait beside him. He didn't seem to notice her presence, didn't react as she took a few steps closer to examine the image herself. Finally, she was greeting with a picture of Eden. She was beautiful, a masterful combination of all of the boys, radiating joy even through the stilled frame. Adelaide smiled at the picture as her eyes fell to the younger Beaudan - hair slightly longer than it was now, his chiseled face round with younger years. All of them, she thought, looked much younger than they did now. The portrait wasn't terribly old, she could see the lines in Callum's face still, but the boys looked freer than they had since she had known them, a bittersweet image. "She's beautiful," Adelaide murmured aloud, taking another step closer to Beaudan. "I haven't seen her yet, around the houses." She looked to him then, eyes latching onto his face, to the swirl of emotion that he couldn't quite seem to grasp. Despite the nearly twelve hours of sleep the two had gotten, he looked tired, the bags under his eyes more pronounced. His hair, still wet, clung to his features, and she began to reach out to brush it away. Something in his expression stopped her, though, and her hand dropped to her side quickly. "How are you feeling?" The question was short, relatively clinical. She could feel the walls Beaudan was building, could feel the tension radiating off of him. He didn't seem in the mood for light chatter, that much was clear, and she sighed as she turned away from him, stepping to the staircase instead. "I'm going to make breakfast," she called over her shoulder. "If you want anything, feel free to join me." She descended the stairs slowly, savoring the warmth that flowed through the stained glass windows. Still, she felt as if she couldn't quite take in the beauty of the house without a sour tang, and she wondered now if she would be able to again. The kitchen, to her surprise, was occupied. Callum stood at the stove, and she smelled the sizzling bacon he was flipping with a growl from her stomach. At the table, Dallas was drinking a mug of coffee, eyes still half-closed from sleep. And leaning against the fridge, chattering to Callum, stood Hollis, dressed to perfection. "You've got to be kidding me," she mumbled before schooling her expression into something chipper. "Good morning, boys!" |
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Darkseeker
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Beau mumbled the necessary responses, giving just enough to pass for participation. "Yes, I’m fine now."
"No, Mummy took most of the photos down after Eden left the family."
"Okay, I’ll be in soon." The dull tone of his voice grated even on him, but he couldn’t muster the energy to fake cheerfulness. Not with the way his head throbbed and his throat felt like sandpaper. He considered pouring himself another glass of water to make himself feel marginally better. Maybe then he’d brave the living room and try for a more convincing act. But the soft, unmistakable greeting from Hollis, who was clearly in the kitchen, stopped him in his tracks. His entire body tensed, a groan escaping him as he pressed his forehead against the nearest wall. He silently cursed the universe. Couldn’t he have one peaceful morning without being confronted by Hollis? Facing him while hungover sounded like a nightmare tailored specifically to torment him. He had no choice, though. Hollis was here, which meant there was no escaping whatever chaos his presence would inevitably stir. With a resigned breath, Beau dragged himself into the kitchen. And, of course, Hollis was there looking unfairly good. Damp curls framed his face, catching the light in a way that made them gleam like polished onyx. His dark eyes were bright, searching, locking onto Beau’s with a kind of intensity that made Beau’s stomach clench in ways he refused to acknowledge. But what really caught his attention was what Hollis was wearing. A Harvard crewneck. Beau’s Harvard crewneck. Or at least, it had been, before Hollis had taken it upon himself to turn it into a ridiculously cropped version of itself. Beau froze, his lips parting in frustration as he got an unwanted eyeful. The honey-toned skin of Hollis’s stomach was completely exposed, catching the warm glow of the kitchen lights. Low-slung jeans completed the picture, clinging to slim hips in a way that should have been illegal. Beau’s gaze betrayed him, flicking to the sharp dip of Hollis’s hipbones before he forced himself to look away. Not now. Not today. His eyes darted to Adelaide, who was perched by the counter with a look of thinly veiled irritation aimed at Hollis. And just like that, an idea struck him. If Hollis wanted his attention, fine. Beau would give him something to stare at. Ignoring Hollis completely, Beau strode over to Adelaide, his movements easy and fluid. He leaned into her space, brushing her hair behind her ear with a practiced intimacy. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice low and warm as though he hadn’t ignored her in the hallway less than five minutes earlier. "That’s my pretty girl." He knew Hollis would be watching. And it worked. Out of the corner of his eye, Beau caught the sharp shift of Hollis’s gaze. Without hesitation, he bent to kiss Adelaide, long and deliberate, with just enough heat to make a statement. Dallas choked on his coffee audibly behind them, and Callum’s irritated huff was as predictable as it was amusing. Beau ignored both of them. He finished the kiss with a soft smile, letting his thumb trail down Adelaide’s jaw, tilting his head slightly in mock innocence. But only for a moment. With a deft movement, he snatched Dallas’s coffee—earning a sputtered protest—and stalked off toward the garden before anyone could stop him. The cool morning air hit him like a balm, cutting through the lingering fog in his head. He finished the stolen coffee in one long sip, tossing the empty cup onto a nearby table before making his way to the large stone fountain at the center of the garden. Swinging his legs over the edge, he let his feet dangle into the still water. It was shockingly cold, but it woke him up in a way nothing else could. The water rippled around his calves as he moved toward the center of the basin, his fingers trailing over the ornate carvings along the fountain’s base. He knew there was a hidden latch somewhere, a tiny compartment built into the structure. He didn’t care that it was empty—he just needed to feel the small thrill of finding it. His fingers skimmed the surface, searching for the imperfection, a place where the stone gave way. The latch clicked under his fingers, and Beau smiled faintly. At least something was going right. |
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Neutral
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Adelaide leaned into the kiss without thinking, pressing herself into Beaudan's touch. Her hand came up to his chest, curling into the fabric above his heart as his fingers traced down her jaw with practiced precision. As he leaned away, snatched the mug, and swiftly left the room, she was caught blankly staring at the spot he had occupied, a faint blush rising on her face. "What the-"
"Dallas," Callum whispered sharply, and Adelaide looked up in time to find him shaking his head in warning. He met her eyes with an unreadable expression, but she didn't miss the hint of irritation, not the growing swell of discontent. Callum did not approve, then. Whatever. "Sooo..." Hollis began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "You and Beau are together, then? I wasn't sure yesterday, what with him in a mood because of you and all." "What?" Adelaide stared dumbly at the boy, brows quirked in confusion. "Because of me- which one of you dimwits told him that?" Her snarl was now directed at Dallas, who flinched, and Callum, who held his hands up in mock surrender. She rolled her eyes, waving the two off with an irritated huff before returning her attention to Hollis once more. "It's complicated. And none of your business," she threw, glaring at him as she strode to the coffee pot. He laughed, shaking his head as he reached into a cupboard above him for a mug. The action caused his already short top to ride up higher, exposing an expanse of ab that she had no desire to see. He handed her a mug with a smile, staring at her with an odd expression that she wasn't able to place until his next sentence. "Guess I probably shouldn't still be wearing Beau's clothes, then." That look. A bit of temper, a lot of longing, and just enough jealousy to send her over the edge. She snatched the mug, laughing as she poured her coffee. She didn't bother with creamer, pulling the mug to her chest as she departed the room with a haughty sway of her hips. "No," she threw over her shoulder, "you shouldn't. Feel free to stay and watch though, if you haven't seen enough. I've always thought voyers were interesting." She exited the house with a newfound bounce in her steps. The whoreish boy was jealous! If he could look that good and still be jealous of her, maybe she meant a bit more to Beaudan than she had thought. She found Beaudan fiddling with something on the ornate central piece of one of the fountains in the garden. Perching on the edge of the sill, she tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned to stare at his back. He would feel it eventually. When he did finally turn around, she met his gaze defiantly, anger burning hot beneath her skin. "Don't ever use me to make your boy-toy jealous again. I know he still means something to you, and that's fine. But if you're going to kiss me in the mornings, do it because you want to." As an afterthought, she added, "Do it more, too." She dipped her fingers into the water, shivering at the cold. How Beaudan was knee-deep in it, she couldn't guess. The sun was already high in the sky, and though she was thankful for her shorts as it beat down on her skin, the wind carried a gusty chill that she wasn't a fan of. Italy was supposed to be warm all the time, not just room-temperature. "What are we going to do today? I'd like to see the city at some point," she rambled. "Though, I'd like to see the rest of this estate as well. Ooh, maybe we could find a trail and go on a stroll. Really, I've no desire to see what more Alistair has in store for us. Unless you want to, of course, but I think we've both had quite enough drama for the week. Do you think we could go alone, or would Dallas be upset that we excluded him?" Her thoughts were erratic at best, and she knew she must sound insane as she voiced them. She couldn't keep the jealous ire from sinking into her skin, though, and she wanted to get as far away from the angelic boy in the house as possible. Adelaide knew she couldn't negate whatever feelings Beaudan still kept locked away, but she could stave them off for as long as possible. Hollis was simply an obstacle, a roadblock that she needed to remove if she wanted to securely start courting with Beaudan as she desired. If he thought he could win Beaudan back with cropped shirts and niceties, he was in for a treat. She wasn't going to let him win. This was her victory to secure. |
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Darkseeker
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Beau lingered with his back to her, his stubbornness on full display as he feigned intense interest in the villa’s sun-dappled facade. He’d heard her approach—he always did—but his foul mood made him drag it out, staying silent to see if she’d break first. When he finally turned, he was ready to offer some sort of half-hearted apology for being insufferable all morning. But the sharp edge in her voice made his mouth snap shut, his attempt at contrition evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. Instead, he stood there silently, letting her words wash over him like a tide. It wasn’t that he didn’t know she was right. She always was, irritatingly enough. But Beau didn’t care. Hollis needed to get the message, and if making out with Adelaide in front of him had to be the sledgehammer to drive the point home, so be it. Still, the annoyance flickered across his face when it became clear Hollis hadn’t entirely gotten the hint. Beau yanked a hand through his already-disheveled hair, his frustration bubbling just under the surface. He didn’t let it show for long, though. With practiced ease, he donned his best mask of regret, eyes softening as he adopted a look of windswept, tragic vulnerability. Moving back across the basin, the water rippling around his calves, he stood in front of her, radiating contrition—or at least something that looked convincingly close to it. "‘M sorry," he murmured, catching her lips in a kiss that was more placating than heartfelt. "I’ll make it up to you, I promise." Her suggestion about going into town made him wince inwardly. Public outings meant cameras, whispers, and endless scrutiny, none of which he could stomach in his current state. He hated the thought of his hangover plastered across some tabloid alongside a blurry photo of him looking disheveled. The last time he'd gone out without the press's prior knowledge, they'd run a two page article on his ass, and he wasn't really looking for a repeat of that incident. "There’s practically nothing to do in town," he said dismissively, fingers tracing idle patterns along the fountain’s edge. "Wouldn’t you rather stay on the property?" He knew the suggestion would fall flat. The villa, no matter how beautiful, could be suffocating, and the charm of the nearby village was undeniable. But the thought of parading through quaint cobblestone streets while feeling this miserable was enough to make his skin crawl. Then, as if struck by inspiration, his face lit up. "Hey," he said, his voice shifting into something almost conspiratorial. "There’s the stables. We could ride the perimeter of the property, maybe head down to the beaches. And when we get there, we could go swimming. Doesn’t that sound better?" He didn’t wait for her response before continuing, the enthusiasm in his voice barely masking his ulterior motive. "Dally loves cliff-diving—he’ll come with us. It’s practically a family tradition. We always find something dangerous to entertain ourselves with, no matter where we are. We get bored too easily. And when we get back," he said sweetly, "I shall simply have to drag you off to my room. What better way to prove that I've movd on. I know how Hollis irks you, love." He conveniently left out the likelihood of Hollis joining them. For now, it was a suggestion that sounded like the perfect escape—a bit of adventure, a bit of nostalgia, and maybe even a bit of distraction from the mess that had been made of the morning. |
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Neutral
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Adelaide felt his hesitation at entering the town. She understood it, to an extent - her family was constantly in the public eye. She continued to be a staple figure despite her estrangement, much to her chagrin. She didn't care much for it, rarely payed attention to the viles lies the news outlets decided to spew about her whenver she deigned the outside world with her presence. But she understood. Being the center of attention could be fun, in the right setting and with the proper crowd. Being the center of attention for millions of gossip-hungry souls that clambored for anything to sink their teeth into - that was something that weighed on her from time to time, no matter how often she pretended it didn't. She had seen the headlines for the Morcant family - constant lies, belittling comments, anything to drag them down and cause drama within the elite world. More often than not, they were being judged for their appearance, who they were with, even how they dressed. Judgements that were typically false, but stung nonetheless. At the mention of the stables, Adelaide perked up. She loved horses, had loved them since she could remember. Her father had a stable of beautiful arabians that she absolutely adored. That had been one of the hardest bits to leave behind - countless mornings spent grooming the nickering mares, tacking them for her and her siblings to ride around the estate. The mention of the water caused her to cringe, but she covered it with a cough, too excited at the thought of seeing the horses to allow herself to be derailed. "That sounds lovely," she murmured, brushing her hand against Beaudan's. "I'll go get ready, then. Meet you here in twenty?" - She dressed quickly, throwing a pair of loose jeans over her swimsuit. She didn't bother with a shirt - let Beaudan see her in the cut suit, give him a taste of their night later. She met him at the front of the house and they walked to the stables in amicable silence. She was too excited to speak, practically skipping the entire way as she prepared to shower the horses with love. The stable was magnificent, as the rest of the property was, ornately designed with horses and riders in various motions. What drew her eye, though, was the fresians within the barn. Most of them were black, as was typical for the breed standard, but two were deep chestnut, gleaming red in the light. Adelaide squealed quietly, clapping her hands together as she left Beaudan in favor of the two mares, bright as the sun. "Well hello beautiful girls," she cooed, gently running her hands along their noses. The mares nickered, tossing their heads slightly, and she turned to Beaudan with a splitting grin. "What are their names? Can I ride one of them? Chestnut fresians are so rare, I've never seen one in person! You are just divine!" The last sentence was directed at the mare closest to her, who pushed into her hand in search of treats. The other lost interest quickly, turning to the hay bale hanging from the stall door, but Adelaide only had eyes for the mare before her. At Beaudan's confirmation, she pumped a fist in the air, before racing into the stable to find the tack. The tack closet was placed in the center of the stall, much to her pleasure, and she quickly grabbed the gear and brushes before returning to her horse. While cooing and petting the mare, she brushed her coat, removing the debris that had gathered before throwing the saddle pad over her withers. To her pleasure, she had gotten lucky with the first belt, and it fit perfectly, snug around the mare's chest. Within minutes, she was done, and she quickly swung herself onto the back of the mare before urging her into the main corridor of the stable. Her smile fell as she was met with the faces of Dallas and Hollis. Callum was nowhere to be found, either tacking his own horse or choosing to stay at the house. Dallas was reaching into the tack closet, handing Hollis various pieces as he stood, inspecting the stable with familiar ease. His head turned when Adelaide entered the corridor, and he whistled lowly at her appearance. "I can't believe you managed to saddle Astoria. She's an absolute menace. Won't let me or Dallas near her, only Beau when she's in a good mood." Adelaide felt a smug satisfaction settle over her at his words, chest puffing slightly. "She was a darling for me, came right up. I've been around horses all my life though, maybe she just knew." Hollis made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, eyeing her once more before turning to grab the piece of tack that Dallas was now waving in his direction. "Well, Dallas and I've just got to saddle Honey and Luna, and then we'll be ready. Don't forget about us," he said with a flirtatious wink. Once his back was turned, Adelaide threw a gesture at his back, rolling her eyes dramatically. She turned Astoria, urging her to the outside world, and took a deep breath. She was going to go to the beach, and she was going to enjoy it. Hollis wouldn't ruin her good mood, nor would the ocean. Today was going to be a good day. |
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Fall 
Day 
Light Rain
