#––– ❛ birdee price 【 featuring henry logan. 】

[stigmvtas]

( @brightstvrlights )

"Do I look stupid?" Asked one time too many - Birdee inwardly cringed at herself for letting her insecurities pass by her; for letting them known - but she couldn't help it. The ball made her feel incredibly out of her element, like she didn't know what to do with herself anymore. "Never mind - don't answer that. I look fine." She repeated that mantra inside her mind for a few more moments, before looking down at Henry. "I don't think I've ever seen you in a suit before, it's kind of weird. Not that you look - weird, you don't - it's just, weird. You've probably never seen me in a dress either, unless you count my Easter recital when I was five."

[stigmvtas]

"Knowing him - think he'd rather go full commando than get anything but lottery tickets." Her brother clung onto the hope that there was something better out there for them - better than their little farm, and their hoarding mother - and their father who hadn't spoken in years. Be damned if he worked for it, though - relied too hard on the bottle and his narrowing stroke of luck that kept him alive. It was hard enough on Birdee to care for their mother - to care for the junkpile she called her home, now; but him, too? When he was supposed to be the one stepping up? She picked at the fraying fabric of her gloves, a few paces away from Henry as he prepared to leave. "Yeah - I don't... heed the opinion of others much often - especially not other girls, but - I don't know. It's stupid - forget it."

"Yeah when she wants to be," Henry mused, casting his eyes to his truck, watching Betty munching away with not a care in the world. "Sorry 'bout your brother's boxers, she's got no manners I swear. But I guess now you know what to get him for Christmas." He turned to walk back to his truck, lifting the back of the tray and closing it, making sure the goat was secured before getting ready to leave; Birdee's comment stopping him before he opened the driver door. "Are you talkin' bout the group chat? That Tallulah girl?" @stigmvtas

[stigmvtas]

Grief handled by the Prices is grief buried several feet deep, never to be spoken about again. Birdee's never been good at it - grieving - emotions held in the palms of her hands like a bird that's too far gone, and all she can do is cradle them close to her chest until its feathers stop quivering, until she can bury it inside a shoebox in the field outside her bedroom window. That's where all her feelings fled - across the field to the left - most corner of their farm, to the graves marking Buck and Jay; buried just as deep as them. She's nursing that grief - feathered bird now, an awkward - necked little thing whose chirps sound more like croaks; grieving for a man she barely knows, but has known of her entire life.

"Henry?" Her confusion is evident on her face - it's late enough into the evening that the rollers have already made a nest in her hair, the spitting image of her mother 30 years prior - a hoodie that still smells of smoke clinging to her shoulders and hanging down her knees. "M'fine -" Birdee's brows furrowed in confusion, before recognition takes hold in her gaze - eyes dropping down to his wet boots, then back up to his greening face. " - d'you want to come inside? I'm heating a kettle right now - it's cold outside. Tea might do you some good."

closed for: @stigmvtas

location: outside Birdee's home

Henry's hands fidget in his pockets as he walks the long path that links the Holm farm to Birdee's residence, the crunch of his boots on dirt and gravel barely drowning out the cacophony of thoughts in his head. He wasn't unfamiliar with guilt; he'd felt its grip many times growing up when he'd acted out for reasons he couldn't explain or accidentally broken things in the antiques shop and then forced to endure the tired looks on his grandparents faces. But this time it was different. Rationally Henry knew Sebastian's death was not his fault, but he couldn't push away the little voice in the back of his head that told him it was. You should have checked in when you didn't see him in the field. When he didn't answer the door. You just left.

The thought is still making his stomach turn when Henry knocks on Birdee's door, rocking on his heels until she answers. It's then he realises he doesn't really have a reason to be here, he just started walking. Does he need an excuse? Shit. "Um hi," he greets when the door swings open. "I er, just came to check on ya."

[stigmvtas]

"It's no problem - she's a sweet little gal," Birdee shoved her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her forehead with a small grin and a nonchalant tone, eyes skipping over Betty to look over at Henry. "Nah - none mine, at least - chewed a hole right through my brother's boxers, though. Don't think he owns another pair." Her arms crossed over one another; lengthy fingerless gloves sewn from scraps found within her mother's clutter in place of a real jacket - despite how cold it'd been, skin prickling - "You don't think I was being unreasonable, last night - do you? Am I really a cunt?"

closed for Birdee @stigmvtas

"Thanks again for looking after this dumbass overnight," Henry said, motioning to Betty the goat happily eating hay in the back of his truck. "I know she can be a handful. Hopefully she didn't get to any of your socks."