#c | perihan koçak.

[noaandreas]

"Do you actually say Daddy, or... have you ever?" Maybe she was missing the point or perhaps Noa had stuck like glue to the right vein the conversation was alluding to, but in efforts of distraction she let her brain run away with the direction it had latched onto. It'd been too long, something she might only admit to Peri at this point, and it wasn't a road her thoughts could travel down and hurt her all that much with. "I feel like I'd stop an laugh if that ever came out of me..."

Though, there was that one time she nearly called a woman that, but she'd earned that whole heartedly, and... Noa missed her. Wherever she was.

As much as Noa enjoyed the literally cat burglary story, loving every bit of Peri's antics and the way she moved through life, she kept getting caught up in the stars. If asked she could point out all of the constellations and planets, what was visible at least, and could even talk about their myths. Many times when she needed a break from her father or the heaviness of life she'd sit out on her back patio and simply have a one sided love affair with the cosmos.

Venting with Peri these last weeks and catching up had been a blessing come at the exact right time. Even if she didn't talk about what she'd lost, what had changed, and that feeling of being completely alone in the world. Peri didn't talk about the serious stuff in that way either. It was as though they'd made a silent pact and as much as she wanted to hug and hang onto her friend for dear life, because simply existing scared her right now, the distractions and regaling of Peri's adventurous life had become healing in it's own way.

"I bet the cops were just mad that you didn't want them to come with the cuffs," Noa teased her beautiful friend. "How many nights... over the course of your life so far... are we talking about here, though?"

location: somewhere on the beach

status: closed for @noaandreas

"I'd say sorry, Daddy, I've been bad but—" a hand twirled irreverently through the air— "wrong religion and all of that."

Peri wasn't sure how long they'd been stretched out in the sand (no blanket, because she was never that great at fully fledged plans) but the sky had gone dark as ink, broken up only by a smattering of long dead stars. It was at least midnight, if she had to guess.

Which made sense considering how much they had to catch up on.

This was their third weekly vent-sesh and she'd just finished explaining to Noa exactly how she came into possession of Greg, her cat (ie: crawling through a window in Nashville in an act of catnapping, then running like hell). It was a funny story, no doubt, but mostly shared in avoidance of the big stuff. The hard stuff. The 'internally I now identify as broken glass' stuff.

Those were the moments she still kept chained up and to herself. Maybe someday she'd talk about it; if anyone was good for moonlighting as an unpaid therapist it was Noa. Yet, for all the memories and all the trust between them, she couldn't let those wounds bleed out.

Turning over to her side, she ignored that morning's encounter with her mom to simply advise, "I wouldn't recommend spending a night in jail. The beds are shit and the cops stare at you funny when you ask to keep the handcuffs."

[jeremylincoln]

The deliveries came early in the morning and usually the chef or one of the line cooks would be there to receive the fish, seafood, and whatever else was incoming in the way of fresh vegetables and meats. He'd gotten the text a short while after he'd finally made it home after shutting The Anchor down not too many hours earlier for the night. Stephen's wife was sick and he'd make the lunch and dinner rushes for work the morning would be a no-go.

Deliveries signed for and the two kitchen staffers that had showed up to help that morning were putting things away, Jeremy went out to straighten up the deck. He was up and at the restaurant so he might as well start his day and get to work. The Anchor wouldn't actually open up until 11am for the early lunchers but if a power nap was needed he could pull one off in his office between now and then.

In fact, the sight of his father's boat at the dock pulled his attention. There was a perfectly nice bed in there. Jeremy kept up the boat all these years and took it out fairly regularly. And it would probably be the most peaceful nap he'd had in a while. Each time he blinked his eyes burned with tiredness. As he made his way down, however, a petite runner had come to a stop on the sand near him.

It was the woman he couldn't escape.

Not that it was entirely bad. She was gorgeous, they had a great time, in his opinion, but she'd said she was in town for only a few days. It promised to be harmless rather than a possible complication his life didn't need. Instead, for weeks now, he'd been seeing here everywhere around town. "Running's not really your thing, is it?" As usual a tease came out first. "Are you alright? I've got some water on the boat..." Jeremy gestured to it while a smile stretched across his face. "Yeah, I call this a second home, and the boat? A third." He nearly cracked a joke about remembering her stamina to be much better than this but he refrained. "Wanna come chill for a minute? Your body is very much telling on you right now."

location: along the beach, right by The Anchor

status: closed for @jeremylincoln

Peri did her damn best to block out a lot of her childhood; she'd be the first to openly admit it. But if there was one thing she wished she hadn't let slip away somewhere between 'I kissed Sarah Wheeler under the bleachers' and 'that one time I read an entire essay on Eminem lyrics in front of the class, then finished with a rap' it was this: Towns like Briar Ridge were called small for a reason.

If you decided to get 'call me a good girl' wasted and hookup with a (mostly) stranger your first night back in town chances were you'd still have to see them the next morning... the next week... the night you popped into Chapman's for hot Cheetos and backup batteries.

Those run-ins were a coincidence. She wasn’t sure what to call now, nor could she puzzle out why a simple morning run landed her right back at the scene of this particular 'Jeremy Lincoln' shaped crime. 

It’s not that Peri was a stranger to one night stands. She wasn’t. Typically, though, when she said she’d only be around for a few days she meant it. For all her escapades she was woefully inexperienced with having to face her 6’5” consequences. 

Did she turn back and run the other way? Crack an inappropriate joke about this not being the first time he saw her lost for breath, legs shaking? Should she high five him three weeks late, give him a slap on the ass, and declare ‘good game’?

Decisions. So many decisions. 

Ultimately, after what was probably a few two many seconds bent over, hands at her knees, and blatantly staring she went with, “I’d ask if you live here—” it wasn’t past seven, was The Anchor even open yet?— “but I think I already know the answer.” Because she’d been to his place. Hell, she'd probably left a forgotten earring behind to prove it.