Post by Jewel on Dec 20, 2015 23:32:07 GMT -5
((Ventia))
Her mother set the appointment.
"Tasting cakes is tradition, mija," Maria said when Brooklyn complained for the third time. "This is where you find how sweet of a sweet tooth Killian has." Her wrinkly hands straightened her daughter's blouse purposefully. Then one of them patted her cheek. "Besides, I don't see him complaining."
They were at a local bakery, sitting at a conference table. They had just talked to the baker – well, Killian and Maria had; Brooklyn sat there silently, remembering that day Killian comforted her as she had a rare mental breakdown – to which they stated their preferences. Traditional, yet not.
Now they sat in a sort of triangle (after Maria fixed Brooklyn's minor clothing catastrophe) with Brooklyn in the middle of her mother and "fiancé". She tapped her left hand impatiently, ring finger bare of any gem or metal. Killian had explained (lied) to the family that the (nonexistent) ring was being cleaned, since it had been one of his ancestor's.
That's why she was complaining about coming. It wasn't because of work or that Gyro was better company that sweet-smelling pastries. It was because … after the threat hanging over her head was gone … Killian and she had to "break up". She didn't know why, but it upset her. Maybe it was because this engagement had been a big ol' lie, and she didn't want to get her family's hopes up. Or because she …
Brooklyn clenched her left hand into a fist.
She was falling for him.
It was hard to admit it. Her coworkers were right in their teasing. She was going to end up falling for this man. Brooklyn knew his ways. His flirtation and appreciative looks and innuendoes. This man was unattainable. That's probably why the future end to this false engagement made her sad.
After months of living there, when he was gone her house would feel empty.
They would have to go back to having a relationship of cop-and-citizen instead of confidant-and-confidant.
She would have to put up her walls again. Pretend she never told anyone what happened to cause her to have such a undeserved medal.
With her right hand, she entangled her fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp, her mother unknowing of the inner turmoil within her. With Killian, it was possible he would know something was wrong. They had grown close, those two. She liked to believe that they knew each other's body language at least.
Then the baker came in, making her to open her eyes and look up at the various types of cake on her tray. "Is that all of them?" Brooklyn joked, forcing a small smile.
Her mother set the appointment.
"Tasting cakes is tradition, mija," Maria said when Brooklyn complained for the third time. "This is where you find how sweet of a sweet tooth Killian has." Her wrinkly hands straightened her daughter's blouse purposefully. Then one of them patted her cheek. "Besides, I don't see him complaining."
They were at a local bakery, sitting at a conference table. They had just talked to the baker – well, Killian and Maria had; Brooklyn sat there silently, remembering that day Killian comforted her as she had a rare mental breakdown – to which they stated their preferences. Traditional, yet not.
Now they sat in a sort of triangle (after Maria fixed Brooklyn's minor clothing catastrophe) with Brooklyn in the middle of her mother and "fiancé". She tapped her left hand impatiently, ring finger bare of any gem or metal. Killian had explained (lied) to the family that the (nonexistent) ring was being cleaned, since it had been one of his ancestor's.
That's why she was complaining about coming. It wasn't because of work or that Gyro was better company that sweet-smelling pastries. It was because … after the threat hanging over her head was gone … Killian and she had to "break up". She didn't know why, but it upset her. Maybe it was because this engagement had been a big ol' lie, and she didn't want to get her family's hopes up. Or because she …
Brooklyn clenched her left hand into a fist.
She was falling for him.
It was hard to admit it. Her coworkers were right in their teasing. She was going to end up falling for this man. Brooklyn knew his ways. His flirtation and appreciative looks and innuendoes. This man was unattainable. That's probably why the future end to this false engagement made her sad.
After months of living there, when he was gone her house would feel empty.
They would have to go back to having a relationship of cop-and-citizen instead of confidant-and-confidant.
She would have to put up her walls again. Pretend she never told anyone what happened to cause her to have such a undeserved medal.
With her right hand, she entangled her fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp, her mother unknowing of the inner turmoil within her. With Killian, it was possible he would know something was wrong. They had grown close, those two. She liked to believe that they knew each other's body language at least.
Then the baker came in, making her to open her eyes and look up at the various types of cake on her tray. "Is that all of them?" Brooklyn joked, forcing a small smile.