#✧ . re: 𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗲.

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ closed to @violentdelightstheseviolentends ( 𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙺 𝙱𝙰𝚈  )

✧ .   𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙳𝙾𝙾𝚁  𝙸𝚂  𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙳.   thankfully,   that's  never  been  an  issue for him  before.   the  spare  key  used  to  be  under  the  third  rock  to  the  left,   but  gaston  had  given  cenk  a  STERN talking-to  about  the  security  issues  with  that  placement.   and  now  it  was   — —    "in  a  lockbox  under  the  flower  pot,"   he  mumbles  aloud,   shifting  his  weight  around  to  hold  both  coffees  and  the  takeaway  bag  with  one  arm,   the  other  rolling  the  combination  into  the  key  lockbox.   it  clicks,   and  the  spare  key  pops  out.   every  victory  is  a  victory,   regardless  of  the  size,   and  gaston's  mouth  curls  up  into  a  gleaming  PREDATORY grin.   he  slides  the  key  into  the  lock,   then  pushes  the  door  open  with  one  foot.    "CENK!"   he  bellows,   letting  himself  into  the  dim  house.   "i  know  i'm  a  little  early."   head  pokes  into  one  dark  hallway  inquisitively.   "are  you  awake?"    he  nearly  forgets  to  take  the  key  out  of  the  lock  and  shut  the  door  behind  himself.   louder,   cupping  his  free  hand  around  his  mouth,   he  tries  again:   "i  brought  breakfast!"

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ @violentdelighstviolentends ( 𝙳𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙰𝙽 ��𝙰𝙳𝙽𝙰 )

✧ . 𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴  𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂  𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂,   𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽  𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂.   it's  not  that  he's  afraid  of  the  mayor,   per  se.   gaston  isn't  afraid  of  anyone.   the  word  'fear'  isn't  even  in  his  vocabulary.   his  father  made  sure  of  that.   no,   it's  not  fear,   but  rather  the  disdain  which  comes  from  suppressed  fear.   "sir."   he  nods  in  greeting,   peeking  into  the  office  from  behind  the  door.   "i'm  afraid   i've gotten  more  than  a  few  inquiries  about  the   —   event  after  the  festival.   i  need  something  to  tell  people."

Well the festival had seemingly gone ok. Was all a little twee for his liking, but if it kept people on side, that was all that mattered. Give people what they wanted, and didn't focus on anything else. Silly game really, but one he was excellent at controlling.

Hearing the door he sighed, wasn't the point of this building that there was several people who'd stop anyone barging in here. Evidently not. "Yes, can I help you?"

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ closed to @lvndersbloom ( 𝙶𝙰𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙻𝙰 𝙱𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚂 )

✧. 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽  𝙷𝙴  𝚆𝙾𝙺𝙴  𝚄𝙿  𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶,   gaston  had  no  indication  the  day  would  be  unusual  in  any  way.   his  alarm  clock  ripped  him  from  yet  another  of  these  infuriating  dreams,   he  stumbled  out  of  bed  and  to  the  coffee  pot,   and  then  the  bathroom.   and  so  on  and  so  forth.   but  the  day  had  barely  begun  and  already  gaston  was  sure  his  life  would  never  be  the  same.   a  steaming  cup  of  coffee  in  hand   —   his  third  of  the  day,   or  was  it  fourth?   —   he's  walking  down main street  after  dropping  in on the hospital to deliver some paperwork for a case.   some  such  nonsense  that's  certainly  below  his  pay  grade,   but  you  do  what  you  must  with  such  a  small  department.   so  little  of  the  day  has  passed  that,   when  he  sees  her  across  the  street,   he's  immediately  sure  he's  still  dreaming.   it  wouldn't  be  the  first  time  someone's  dreamt  a  false  start  to  their  day.   but  she  looks  so  different,   surely  this  is  real  life.   "it's  you."   he  can't  stop  himself  from  speaking  the  words  aloud,   under  his  breath.   in  a  daze,   he  watches  as  she  steps back inside the florist's shop.   suddenly  she's  right  in  front  of  him   —   did  he  walk  all  that  way?  his  mouth  is  parched  and  his  mind  blank,   the  coffee  burning  a  hole  into  his  hand.   all  he  can  manage  is  a  breathless,   enthralled:  "h   —   hello."

[perfectoffering]

╰     cis man, he/him/his     ☆     𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 …   we’re introduced to HUNTER GASTON BOUCHET , the THIRTY EIGHT  year old SHERIFF at ENCHANTED FALLS SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT from enchanted falls who bears a striking resemblance to LUKE EVANS. the whispers in the wind tells us of their PASSIONATE and SELF-CENTERED reputation, that’s why the townsfolk often are reminded of weekends  spent  at  a  self-decorated  hunting  lodge  covered  in  antlers  and  animal  skins,  cigarette  and  whiskey  stained  blue  jeans,  a  wolfish  and  sharp  grin  which  makes  plain  an  intention  to  live  fast  and  leave  a  pretty  corpse.  they are often haunted by dreams of a life lived as GASTON LEGUME ( BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ) .

i. what he's told is his family has french roots, going back to nobility. even in enchanted falls, he has the wealth, the status, the power. his first name here is hunter, but perhaps even magic couldn't completely penetrate gaston's massive ego. gaston. it's his middle name in this world, and he's gone by that name for as long as he can remember.

ii. here, adem is his friend again. here, they never stopped. once upon a time, they were boys together: a prince and the son of a duke. inseparable until magic tore them away from each other. that curse removed all memory of adem from gaston's memory and warped his personality. everything became bigger, louder, more out of control. his competitive nature and the aggression he was raised with were fanned into a blaze of self-serving, furious impulse. people were hurt. lives were lost. in enchanted falls, he has no idea the scale of damage he caused to his original story. he has no remorse. no guilt.

iii. when the dreams come to him, he writes them off as nightmares at first. horrible images of falling to his own death, adem dead or dying, the townsfolk he swore to protect turning on both of them. and then there's her. the dreams about belle started only recently. he has no idea adem is having them too; the other man has always been better at keeping secrets. but over the past three months, the mystery girl from his dreams is all sheriff bouchet seems to talk about.

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙻𝙴𝙶𝚄𝙼𝙴 ⤐ closed to @violentdelightstheseviolentends ( 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙰𝙳𝙴𝙼 )

✧  .   "𝙸𝚃'𝚂  𝙰  𝚆𝙾𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙵𝚄𝙻  𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚈.   𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚅𝙴  𝙳𝙾𝙽𝙴  𝙰𝙽  𝙰𝙼𝙰𝚉𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙹𝙾𝙱."  he  sidles  up  beside  the  throne,   two  glasses  of  champagne  in  hand.   he  holds  one  out  towards  the  prince  and  tips  his  own  in  salute.  a  good  handful  of  these  matchmaking  events  had  come  and  gone  now.  they  were  held  in  the  prince's  honor,  of  course,   but  all  noble  bachelors  were  encouraged  to  take  full  advantage.  many  had,   and  in  the  last  several  years,   many  engagements  had  been  announced.   yet  adem  and  gaston  still  remained.   it's  before  the  war,  before  the  curse,  and  their  lives  are  still  balls  and  feasts  and  fencing.   they're  still  close,  thick  as  thieves.  "see  anyone  who  strikes  your  fancy?"  he  asks,   mouth  betraying  his  amusement,  as  he  raises  his  glass  to  his  lips.   "we  all  have  to  settle  down  eventually.   you  especially.   imagine,   not  leaving  an  heir."

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ @enchantdly ( 𝙹𝙰𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙴 𝚈𝙰𝚉𝙳𝙰𝙽𝙸  )

✧  .   𝙷𝙴  𝙲𝙰𝙽'𝚃  𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙿  𝙱𝚄𝚃  𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃  𝙱𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙺  𝙰𝚃  𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝙰  𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃.  it's  not  something  so  ridiculous;   it  wasn't  unheard  of  for  a  pet  to  be  stolen.  though  it  was  likely  for  a  ransom,   rather  than  pure  amusement,   and  thus  typically  only  happened  to  horrible  little  dogs.  "your  cat?"  he  repeats.  seeing  her  face,   he  chuckles.  hazel  eyes  crinkle  in  a  reassuring  way despite his rough edges.   "i'm  sorry,   you  just  caught  me  by  surprise."  he  leans  down  and  pulls  a  desk  drawer  open,   reaching  for  the  notepad  inside.   "i'm assuming you have a reason to suspect — your cat is in danger."   meeting  jasmine's  eyes  once  more,   he  clicks  his  pen.

status : closed for @perfectoffering ( gaston bouchet ) location : sheriff's office

the sheriff's office is not a place that jasmine is well-acquainted with. the perfect, responsible daughter has never ended up here after a wild night, nor reported any kind of crime or spoken as a witness. not when her father would never allow such a thing. being here, now, with no dad hovering over her shoulder, feels so alien to jas in a way that's both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. but she takes a deep breath, sits straight in her chair and meets the sheriff's eyes.

“ sheriff bouchet, i'm so sorry to be a bother. it's just that — i think someone is trying to steal my cat, and i was hoping you might be able to give me advice ? ”

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ @violentdelighstviolentends ( 𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙻𝙴𝚈 𝚅𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 )

✧ . 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷  𝙸𝚂  𝙲𝙴𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽𝙻𝚈  𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙴.   gaston,   for  one,   can't  fucking  stand  lawyers.   it's  the  nature  of  the  job,   perhaps.   and  he  cares  far,   far  too  much  about  what  people  think  of  him  to  ever  be  one.   he  frowns  and  begins  walking  towards  the  record  room,   pulling  his  key  ring  from  his  pocket.   "i  can't  quite  recall  that  one.”   he  sifts  through  the  various  keys  with  an  unbothered  air.   "sorry  about  all  this.   someone  before  my  time  made  the  decision  to  add  new  files  as  hardcopies  and  digitize  chronologically  without  exception.”   it  was  probably  his  father  who  made  the  stupid  call  gaston  has  to  deal  with  now.   as  the  story  goes.   "we're  still  stuck  in  the  nineties.”   blessedly,   he's  found  the  right  key  finally.   he  holds  it  up  in  casual  triumph  before  fitting  it  into  the  lock.   "the  computer  system,   we've  only  gotten  that  far  still.   so  all  the  new  files   —   "   he  tugs  on  the  light  cord.   with  a  buzz  and  a  flicker,   it  flares  to  life.   "    —   are  in  here  still.   jenkins,   you  said?"

"Oh I don't. Wouldn't be very good at my job if I cared that much about what people thought" which wasn't true at all. But he wanted to control exactly what people thought of him, and he was good at it.

Oh this was something he'd seen before, waste of time in his opinion but hey if the other man wanted to do it, he could wait. It was behaviour he had seen before, he had a lot of older brothers after all, all wanting to prove they were more manly than the next. He had learnt long ago to just let them.

"The accused car thief, Jenkins" well he was guilty, but he wouldn't admit that. Innocent until proven guilty after all and he had to at least try and argue it.

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ @violentdelightstheseviolentends ( 𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙺 𝙱𝙰𝚈  )

✧  .   "𝙸  𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙼��𝙴𝚁  𝙷𝙴𝚁,"  gaston  assures  his  friend  with  a  sharp  look.  with  a  shake  of  the  head,  he  attempts  to  settle  back  into  the  couch  more  comfortably  once  more.   try  as  he  might,   though,  this  thought  process  isn't  some  pesky  insect  he  can  just  wave  off.  this  has  consumed  much  more  of  his  waking  time  lately  than  he'd  ever  admit.   cenk's  words  quiet  him  again,   falling  into  a  thoughtful  daze.   truthfully,  he'd  been  so  fixated  on  trying  to  discern  the  nature  of  the  dreams,   or  even  the  source.   he'd  never  investigated the possibility  that  this  might  be  a  real  person,  not  in  a  serious  way,   much  less  someone  he  was  liable  to  run  into  on  the  street.  "i'd  never  considered  that,"   he  murmurs,  hazel  eyes  boring  a  hole  into  the  floor.   he  blinks  himself  back  into  his  body,   and  eyes  focus  on  cenk  once  more.  the  idea  had  occurred  to  him  before,  but  he  had  discarded  it  just  as  quickly,   regarding  it as  wishful  thinking.  fantasy  and  imagination  were  never  rewarded  in  his  childhood  home.   but  hearing  cenk  validate  that  little  shred  of  hope  which  had  stuck  in  the  mind's garbage  disposal   —   —   —  —  "i  suppose  i  would  —   pursue  her.  why  else  would  i  be  having  these  dreams  if  we  weren't  meant  to  be  together?"  it's  the  only  thing  that  makes  any  sense  to  him.  the  thought  of  being  in  love  is  intoxicating  to  him.  however,  it's  still  only  that  —   the  idea  of  being  in  love.  in  both  lives,  gaston  has  had  the  odd  love  affair,  particularly  in  youth.   and  he's  loved  many  of  them.   the  few  people  in  his  inner  circle,   he  loves  very  deeply.  in  his  own  way.   but  gaston  has  never  been  in  love.  the  closest  relationship  he  has  is  with  —   —   light  eyes  wander  back  to  the  man  sitting  opposite  him.  tenderly,  still  half  lost  in  thought,   he  traces  cenk's  shape.   eyes  linger  on  eyes,   lips,  shoulders,  hands.  absently,   the  corners  of  his  mouth  curl  with  fondness.  two  boys  became  inseparable  close  in  their  ruined  childhoods,  bonded  forever,  made  to  wear  the  same  iron  mask  of  infallible  strength.  but  they  could  be  soft  with  each  other,  in  the  quiet  and  dark  moments  when  it  seemed  as  though  the  whole  world  stood  still  in  their  absence.  this  is  what  tenderness  feels  like,  he  thinks  in  this  moment.   this  ferocious  warmth.  if  i  know  love,   it  feels  like  this.   "do  you  think  it's  possible?  that   —   the  girl,   that  she's  real,  i  mean."

Perhaps he should have admitted that he was haunted by his own mystery phantom, but the fact he woke up with a feeling he’d almost describe as heartache… how did he explain that? He supposed he hadn’t seen the point. Gaston’s dream was a woman of beauty, whilst he didn’t even know what his looked like. Even now he had no reason to think it was the same woman.

Besides if he thought about that too much, it meant he might have to start putting any thought into why he dreamt of Gaston shooting him in the back. If he thought there was even a risk of that, he’d hardly be friends with the man, let alone let him inside his house like this. Well admittedly he hadn’t let him in, but still not the point. It just wasn’t something he wanted to give any thought to, it was too ridiculous.

“You know, they say that your mind can’t make up faces, and even the people you dream of, they’re people you must have seen. Are you sure you don’t recognise her?” that would be the logical starting point. He might keep his own solitude, but he knew the same wasn’t true of the other man. It was possible she was somewhere in town. Though with this level of… well obsession, he was sure Gaston would have found her by now.

Yet something about that sent a shiver down his spine. Like a memory of a dream, one he couldn’t quite grab onto. Beauty was found within. He didn’t know where that had come from. That was a life Adem had lived, and Cenk no longer remembered any of it. Only flashes when he tried to sleep. Only a dream of being a beast, a dream he tried desperately hard not to think too much about.

Though he supposed the question double backed. If he was having similar dreams then was he going mad? Admittedly he thought he might be, but that had more to do with the feeling of heartbreak he felt every morning when he woke up. In love with a figment of his imagination… what was wrong with him?

“I don’t know” he’d never been in the habit of lying, why start now? “But… if you did meet this girl, what happens then?”

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ @violentdelighstviolentends ( 𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙻𝙴𝚈 𝚅𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 )

✧ . 𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙾𝚆𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙰 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺 and  then  chuckles  in  spite  of  himself.  "i  wouldn't  take  it  too  personally;  she's  probably  got  one  of  me,  too."  with  a  GROAN,  he  rises  from  his  rolling  desk  chair.  like  a  good  hunting  dog,  he  takes  a  moment  to  stretch,  plaid  button  down  rising  ever  so  slightly  above  the  belted  waist  of  his  jeans  as  he  does  so.  it's  almost  a  little  display  of  dominance  which  also  happens  to  serve  a  purpose:  your  needs  might  be  important,  but  i'm  in  charge  here  and  you  will  wait  for  me,  however  long  it  takes.  finally  he  finishes,  and  then  gestures  hadley  to  follow  him  with  a  nod  of  dimpled  chin.  "which  file  is  it  you're  looking  for  again?"

It was entertaining if nothing else he supposed. Besides, meant he could leave his own office for a while, and he needed the fresh air. Not that it felt fresh in here, frosty almost given the other man's demeanour. He understood it, but he also knew that being a push over around him really wasn't the way to go.

"I do normally, think she has a dart board with my face on it" pity really, but that's just how things were. "Look, I'm doing you a favour with this, else it'll be very easy for me to win against all your cases" and whilst that sounded nice, he knew he'd get bored quickly.

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ @violentdelighstviolentends ( 𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙻𝙴𝚈 𝚅𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 )

✧ .   𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻𝚂 𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷  of  what  he  supposes  could  be  called  'close  friends'  and  is,  by  no  means,  actively  seeking  more  out  —  drinking  buddies,  he  can  always  use  more  of.  though  as  much  as  he  tries  to  neatly  fit  hadley  into  this  category,  the  other  man  being  a  lawyer  always  feels  like  the  square  peg  in  the  proverbial  round  hole.  but  gaston  can  be  CIVIL.  most  of  the  time.  "wish  i  could  return  the  sentiment,"  he  replies  curtly  without  so  much  as  a  hint  of  smile.  maybe  not-so-civil  on  occasion.  "that  sounds  like  a  complaint  to  take  up  with  my  secretary." instead of wasting my valuable time.

Far too often Hadley found he had to go to the Sheriff's office. Honestly, they could least get some less offensive lighting, he'd considered wearing sunglasses before now. Still it was what it was, and he needed to do his job. He wasn't going to lose a case just because he couldn't be bothered.

"Ah Sheriff Bouchet, just the man I wanted to see" and one of the less annoying ones he had found. "You know, when we ask for case files, not really a request, we need them".

@perfectoffering

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ @violentdelightstheseviolentends ( 𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙺 𝙱𝙰𝚈  )

✧ .   "𝙸'𝙼  𝙳𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻  𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽."  he  repeats  cenk's  own  words  back  to  him  with  a  dramatic  sense  of  great  relief.  gaston  sighs  and  reclines  back  into  the  sofa  cushions  with  a  flourish  of  muscular,   tattooed  arms.   the  awful  thing  is  that  gaston  is  an  excellent  liar.  he's  practiced  at  it,  has  both  the  confidence  and  charisma  to  pull  off  even  the  most  extravagant  tall  tales.  cenk  is  perhaps  the  only  person  who  would  ever  be  able  to  even  accuse  gaston  of  being  disinclined  to  deception.   ( the mayor being possibly the only other exception, but that's rather embarassing. )  gaston  has  a  certain  need  to  be  experienced.  nearly  every  time  he  goes  out  into  public  it's  a  performance.  so  many  memories  of  his  childhood  are  only  his  father  teaching  him  the  lines  with  an  iron  fist  —  chin  up,  back  straight,  strong  upper  lip  —  and  now  he  doesn't  know  how or when  to  drop  the  curtain.  but  cenk  has  always  been waiting  in  the  wings  for  him.  cenk  was  always  privy  to  his  innermost  thoughts.  as  far  as  anyone  else  in  enchanted  falls  is  concerned,  sheriff  gaston  bouchet  is  a  man  who  doesn't  know  the  meaning  of  the  word  fear.   the  word  surrender.   but  cenk  knows  better.  gaston's  real  internal  monologue  still  needs  an  audience,  but  he's  spent  decades  very  content  with  his  audience  of  one. which  is  why  he's  so  fixated  on  this  girl.  is  she  real?   if  she  is,  is  she  here?  what  could  possibly  be  connecting  her  to  gaston?  he  recalls  her  face  to  mind  and  involuntarily  shivers.  lately,  his  internal  monologue  has  seemed  to  revolve  around  this  mysterious  figure  from  his  dreams  and  little  else  —  perhaps  the  first  real  time  gaston's  inner  playwright  has  shifted  attention  to  anyone  else. all  these  hours  spent  rambling  on  and  on  to  cenk  in  what  may  as  well  be  unpaid  therapy  sessions,  and  gaston  has  no  idea  his  best  friend  is  having  the  same  dreams,  about  the  same  girl. "she's  just  so...  beautiful."  he  speaks  as  though  aloud  to  himself,   chin  resting  on  one  hand  and  gazing  wistfully  into  one  shaded  window.  "i  look  at  the  people  around  us,  and  everyone  else  is  watching  her.  she's  electric.  magnetic."  in  an  unsettling  gesture,  head  first  with  his  eyes  following  after,  gaston  turns  his  attention  to  cenk.  "do  you  think  i'm  going  mad?"

"Well it's a lot less effort for starters" not that he really thought it would change. He was also pretty sure they had this conversation everytime as well. Somethings never changed he supposed,

He supposed he should be more upset about the treatment of the table. It was once an expensive table, but like most things in this house, it belonged to his father. Honestly he was pretty sure his father loved the damn table more than him. Something he didn't want to think too much about, if only because he didn't think his father deserved it. He'd replace it one day... probably.

"Didn't even know they did breakfast" well he never really went anywhere or ordered anything. Self imposed imprisonment maybe, but he had just found it easier.

Really it was Gaston’s body language, it gave the whole thing away if he was truly honest. “You know, you’re a terrible liar” or he just knew his tells all too well. That he supposed must go both ways, else the sheriff would have arrested him all those years ago when his parents died in the fire. Well everyone else thought he had murdered them. “Are you dreaming about that girl again?” he’d heard him talk about her before, a lot actually.

Not like he could talk anyway, he had his own mysterious phantom haunting him. He never spoke of it, just saying his dreams were about talking furniture, it was true after all. Those dreams were nonsense he knew that, it was the others. Looking at his reflection, and seeing a beast. Dreams of his own death, and at Gaston’s hand? That one really was ridiculous. But the girl… whatever he seemed to dream about she was always there, and yet by morning he couldn’t even remember a single thing about her appearance.

There were other things he knew. She had stories on her lips, compassion in her heart, and didn’t take shit from anyone. And that every morning he woke up feeling like his heart was broken… no, it was easier to just say he dreamt of talking furniture than admit to something so unexplainable.

“Or it’s something else?” well it might have nothing to do with dreams he supposed. But he had been awake for hours, and his awareness was there.

[perfectoffering]

𝙶𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚃 ⤐ @violentdelightstheseviolentends ( 𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙺 𝙱𝙰𝚈  )

✧ .   "𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃'𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰 𝙱𝚄𝚃𝚃𝙾𝙽  to ask my  best  friend  to  do  something  i'm  perfectly  capable  of  myself?"   granted,  the  thing  in  question  is  issuing  entrance  to  said  best  friend's  house,  but  if  you  can't  unceremoniously  let  yourself  into  your  best  friend's  house  at  ungodly  hours,  whose  house  can  you  invade?  people  typically  look  down  on  breaking  into  the  home  of  a  stranger,  or  even  an  acquaintance,  particularly  so  when  one  happens  to  be  the  SHERIFF.  "what?"   he  equally  unceremoniously  drops  the  takeaway  bag  onto  the  coffee  table,  having  let  himself  into  the  living  room.   coffee  in  hand,  he  sniffles  loudly  as  he  drops  down  to  the  couch.  it  takes  a  moment  for  cenk's  words  to  sink  in.  gaston  throws  a  glance  to  the  greasy  bag  and  swallows  hard,  averting  his  eyes  with  a  long,  deep  sigh.  "oh.  yes,  well   —  "  there's  no  explanation.  cenk  is  right,  and  gaston  is  forced  to  submit  to  the  mortifying  ordeal  of  being  known.  so,  so  deeply  known  by  this  one  man  only.   and  that's  simply  enough.  the  last  thing  he  needs  are  more  sticky  fingers  all  over  his  personal  life.  the  muscles  in  his  jaw  ripple  and  he  restlessly  flexes  the  fingers  of  his  hand  holding  the  coffee.  very  suddenly,  he  laughs  and  kicks  his  feet  up  onto  the  table  with  such  force  the  breakfast  he'd  brought  with  him  leaps  off  the  surface.  "i  was  hungry."  he  shrugs,  doing  everything  in  his  power to  avoid  meeting  cenk's  eyes.   love  makes  fools  of  us  all.  it's  one  of  the great  inevitabilities  of  life.  no  one  had  prepared  him  for  the  times  the  humiliation  would  come  in  the  form  of  a  brother-in-arms,  the  only  person  gaston  had  ever  willingly  tied  his  own  life  to.  or,  for  that  matter,  a  nameless  beauty  who  had  begun  to  haunt  his  dreams.  without  touching  the  bag  himself,  he  urges  cenk  with  a  tight  smile:   "eat  up." sometimes, the hardest words to say are the ones we need to release the most desperately. his father had treated every person in his life with the cold sterility of a stranger, wife and son included. but as gaston grew, he found more and more that his time with cenk was like a confessional: pure and holy. closed off from the rest of the world. why should either of them need anyone else?

Another night of dreams, he was used to that. But this was a bad one, that girl again. Strange he couldn't remember a thing about her when he woke up but his heart was aching. He didn't know if that was normal or not, he didn't really want to talk about his dreams with anyone, not when half the time it was just about talking furniture.

In the end he had just given up trying to sleep. It was technically morning, just too early to be awake really. Still he also knew Gaston's timekeeping, and it was usually just easier to be ready an hour earlier than he said he was going to arrive.

He'd been half reading a book, half lost in his own thoughts when he heard the door. Probably something that should worry him more, but really, he was 6'2 and in good shape. There wasn't many people in town he actually feared, and if anyone did want to steal something, he wasn't that sentimental. That aside, he didn't know many thieves unlocked the door before coming in.

"You know I have a doorbell right?" he asked, after he heard him shout the second time, "that and you'll loose your voice" probably not the most ideal thing either for his job.

Still, he did know the other man, the food was an unusual touch. "Everything alright? You don't normally bring food unless it isn't".