#taylan & ﹙ 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗮𝗹𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗮𝘆𝗮 ﹚

[ofvolatile]

where : lakeside grill , 7:30 pm . status : closed with @inlustre

its days after his return , and his mother thought it fit to have dinner together as a family , because how else would the town see the yalçınkaya's being the picture - perfect family that his father has always dreamt of ? straight spines , fake smiles ( never found on his lips ) , all pulled by strings above their heads , sitting like marionettes displayed for show . subjected to a scolding on how sport could never be a lasting career . taylan had never asked for , nor needed his father's sympathy , but its hard to ignore how the words sting , how his scar stings underneath that loaded stare . for all the violence his body carries , when it comes to his father he keeps his fists at home , curls his hands around his glass and resents the fraction of control his father wields over him . their parents had just left , and taylan is still reeling , jaw working angrily . “ dad still an asshole . thinks his badge and that crooked halo above his head makes him look like a fucking saint . can't even keep this shitty town safe . ” he spits loudly not caring that a few faces turn to look at the table where the twins are seated . the glass tightens under the pressure of his hand , and he wants  it to crack , for the edges cut into his palm , for the fake blood clinging on his skin to be real . his anger has only harmed his self the most . “ the only thing he’s good for is being used an example on how to do a piss-poor job . he's a fucking joke . ”

[ofvolatile]

there's  a  knot  in  his  heart  ,  too  tight  to  pump  any  bloody  around  his  body  ,   squeezes   uncomfortably , ribcage  putting pressure  onto  his  lungs  .  from  the  moment  santi  told  him about  the  discovery of a  body  ,  his  intoxication  has  been  fizzling  down .  the  desperation  of  finding  his  sister ,  that  prevents  his  breaths  from  flowing  at  a  normal  rate  .  he's  about  to  dial  her  again  ,  when  santi  suddenly  pulls  at  his  sleeve  ,  pulling  him  through  the  densely  packed  sea  of  people   taylan  tries  to  spot  his sister ,  but  it  only  serves  to  tug  harsher  on  the  strings  of  his  irritation  ,  knocking  bodies  left  and  right  .  someone  dressed  as  a  shitty  version  of  patrick  bateman  crosses  their  path  and  he  pushes  them  away  ,  making  him  stumble  into  a  group  of  people  .  no  second  glance  wasted  .  nothing  and  no  one  else  matters  except  for  his  sister  ,  and  when  they  finally reach  her  side  ,  he  feels  like  he  can  properly  breath  again  .  taylan  wants  to  reach  out  ,  but  stays  rooted  in  his  spot  ,  watching  selin  pull  santi  into  a  hug  .  the  tense  line  of  his  jaw  deepens  ; eyes  narrow as  they  sear  into  the  way  selin  lingers  . watching their interaction , he  sucks  on  his  teeth  and  his  features  transform  into  a  frown  . he wonders  if  this  is  why  santi  has  been  avoiding  him  .  annoyance  ,  relief , frustration it  all  melts  together  . those  six years away glaringly obvious , and not even his sister had decided to fill him in .  he's  on the verge  of interrupting  when selin caught side of him .  “  where  is  your  phone  ?  ”  it  comes  out  harsher  than  intended  ,  and  taylan  places  himself  between  santi  and  selin  ,  breaking  up  the  pair  .  gaze softens on her instantly , “  are  you  okay  ?  ”  concern  dripping   desperate  ,  she's  clearly  fine  ,  and that means  she  doesn't  know  .  from  someone  so  direct  ,  he's   hesitant  as  he  looks  over  at  santi  ,  a silent exchange between them ; both  of  them  know  how  much  daniela  means  to  selin  .  when  he  speaks  again  its  careful  ,  gentle  ,  his  tone  soft  as  cotton  ,  a  softness  reserved  only  for  his  twin  .  “  santi  told  me  they  found  a  body  .  but  we  don't  know  who  it  is  yet  ,  ”  he  pauses  ,  reminded  of  the  unanswered  calls  ,  “  i  can  call  dad  .  ”   ( @atonehart )

her cheeks are sore from smiling , feet are sore from standing then sitting then standing again , her headband had been left somewhere in the abyss that is the redstone bathroom , but none of that mattered to selin . it was the lightest she had felt in months , and that wasn't just the alcohol talking ( though it certainly helped ) . it was easy to feel far away from her problems on a night night she was pretending to be someone else , easier still when she'd stopped checking her phone once the missed calls and texts from her dad had started piling up . if her life had to feel like it no longer belonged to her , then surely one night could . she's floating in and out of conversation at the bar , mind deliciously empty as she sips on something fruity . that is , until she hears her name . she turns , just in time to throw herself into his arms in greeting , unnecessarily familiar considering she'd just seen santi earlier that night . a bit of her cocktail splashes onto the back of his shirt , but she's reticent to let go , the contact craved in her current state . eventually she does pull back , a little hi slipping past her lips in greeting , along with a laugh more akin to a giggle than anything else . " where have you been ? you should have dressed up like a magician tonight , not a nerdy stripper , " she pretends to chastise before her gaze moves past santi , meeting the steely eyes of her brother . it's enough to blink some of the fog out of her brain , because she knows that expression . serious . worried . " tay ? " fingers subconsciously stay curled around santi's sleeve , although her eyes flick between the two of them , anxiety pulling her lips into a frown , a familiar sinking in her stomach . " is something wrong ? " ( @ofvolatile )

[ofvolatile]

the  hastily  imposed  halloween  curfew   ,  fragile  as  a spider's  web  in the wind  ,  had  already  been  broken  by  two  late-night  visitors  .  the biting chill of autumn crept through the window , slashing into the room like a blade , and taylan stirred from uneasy sleep , muscles groaning under the weight of old hockey wounds , the ache coiling around him like ghost chains — a haunting reminder of everything he lost . his  eyes  ,  still  heavy  with  sleep  ,  drag to  the  empty  side of  the  bed  .  kieran  wasn't  there  . only the faint imprint on the pillow said he'd ever been . being back felt wrong , like a dislocated shoulder — familiar but misaligned . and he sighs , throws an arm over his eyes . sleep had come in fits and starts , dreams of cheers , chased away by nightmares of his collision on the ice . when he finally rolls out of bed , his bare foot hits something solid . taylan stumbles , cursing as his hip hit the desk . a hockey stick lay abandoned on the floor , its surface rough and splintered from years of use . the same battered one he'd left behind . “ figures , ” he mutters , kicking it aside . the house creaks as he makes his way downstairs , the weight of last night lingering in the air . the  acrid  scent  of  burnt  eggs  curls around him , drawing a grimace . voice filter up from the kitchen , tugging him the rest of the way , and taylan pauses in the doorway . the scene was of familiar chaos : kieran  standing  by  the  stove  ,  futilely  trying  to  salvage  a  pan  of  charred  eggs  , pasha curling lazily by june's feet , but  then  his  gaze  lands  on  selin , and the rest of the room fades . guilt surges , sharp and unrelenting , and the tide turned bitter . six  years  away  ,  and  now  he's  back  , useless as ever , unable to protect her . he crosses the kitchen , rough palms brush her hair back from her face , chest tightens at the bruise darkening her eye —  a  cruel  souvenir  from  last  night's  bar  fight  ,  and it tightens  his  chest  .  “ does it hurt ? ” he asks , voice low , rasping . turning to the cabinet he grabs a bottle of painkillers , a  necessary  ritual ,  a uninvited  reminder  of  the  body  that  had  once  been  unstoppable  now  betrays  him  at  every  turn  , and taylan shakes out  three  pills  into  his  hand  , he  swallows  two  dry  ,  the  faint  trace  of  iron  biting  on  his  tongue  .  the last , he presses into selin's palm , his touch brief but firm . “ he climbed through my window like you did , june . ” taylan comments , takes one look at the pan , a  mixture  of  charred  eggs  and  half-burned  butter , and shakes his head in mock disapproval . “  trying  to  burn  the  house  down  ?  ” he chides ,  swatting kieran's hand away , before he could make things worse . stepping  past  him  , taylan yanks open the fridge . his movements , already  knowing  what he's  looking  for .  he grabs a half-empty protein shake , gives it a vigorous shake like a bartender . “  guess this  is  what we'll have to do for breakfast .  ” ( @inlustre )

even  asleep,  as  selin  lifts  herself  up  and  out  of  bed  -  june's  body  moves  on  it's  own  to  fill  the  empty  space,  to  soak  up  her  leftover  warmth  like  a  poor,  sun  -  deprived  houseplant.  even  somewhere  in  her  subconscious  -  it's  unfamiliar,  the  soft  silence  that  hangs  in  the  air  instead  of  screams  and  shouts,  doors  slamming  shut;  glass  shattering  against  ground.  her  feet  kick  out,  legs  spreading  across  the  mattress,  only  to  meet  more  comforter,  more  empty  sheets.  no  shins  to  smash  her  heels  into,  no  other  bodies  to  combat  with  for  a  good  night's  sleep.  the  only  thing  that's  familiar,  even  asleep,  is  the  scent  of  selin's  shampoo  -  a  heavy  arm  emerging  from  duvet  to  wrap  lazily  around  her  now  -  abandoned  pillow,  drawing  it  near  and  dear.  even  asleep,  june  misses  selin's  presence.  she's  not  used  to  it,  loving  someone  so  much  -  or  at  least,  someone  so  soft.  malleable.  and  no  longer  in  bed.  her  eyes  flicker  awake,  sleep  clinging  between  eyelid  and  sticking  to  her  eyelashes  -  instantly  squinting  against  the  sunrays  that  slit  between  blinds.  she  wants  to  go  back  to  sleep;  wants  to  pretend  for  a  moment  that  she  doesn't  live  in  a  glorified  shed  with  certified  mole  -  that  it's  just  her  and  selin  against  the  world,  that  taylan  isn't  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall  -  that  chaos  doesn't  trail  behind  her  like  a  bad  omen.  that  she  isn't  the  bad  omen.  then  the  scent  of  burnt  eggs  trail  beneath  the  door  -  and  june  sighs.

she's  slow  to  get  up  -  if  the  apartment  was  on  fire,  there'd  be  a  lot  more  screaming,  probably  -  socked  feet  hitting  the  ground  as  she  attempts  not  to  roll  right  back  onto  the  ground.  selin's  room  is  so  -  different,  to  everything  june  knows.  love  is  held  everywhere,  from  the  photos  adorning  the  walls  to  the  pieces  of  her  strewn  across  every  surface.  possessions  that'll  always  be  hers',  and  nobody  else's.  for  a  brief,  fleeting  moment  -  june  feels  envious.  she  doesn't  know  what  it's  like,  to  have  something  all  for  herself  -  not  even  her  bedroom  is  her  own,  her  most  prized  possessions  kept  in  a  shoebox  beneath  the  floorboards  and  away  from  sticky  fingers.  it's  suffocating,  almost  -  to  be  surrounded  by  a  life  she'll  never  have.  june  pushes  against  the  door,  only  walking  a  few  feet  forward  before  stopping  in  her  tracks  completely.

there  kieran  stands,  bent  over  the  kitchen's  stovetop  as  he  frantically  tries  to  stop  the  eggs  from  burning  further.  it's  a  foreign  sight,  and  june  can't  help  but  feel  possessive.  "what  the  fuck  is  going  on?"  as  she  steps  closer,  pasha  circles  her  feet,  bumps  against  her  ankles  -  practically  tries  to  trip  and  kill  june,  just  to  get  her  sleeping  spot  back.  "you're  a  sick  fuck,  pash  -"  a  briefly  distracted  mumble  as  june  bends  down  to  pat  pasha's  back,  half  -  fond  -  before  she's  jerking  upright  again  to  glare  at  kieran.  "christ  -  are  you  following  me  now,  or  some  shit?  first  you  have  me  go  on  a  fucking  -  high  speed  chase  in  fucking  -  platforms,  like  a  sicko  -  then  you  follow  me  to  selin's  and  make  shit  eggs?"

[ofvolatile]

none of what he says is true . you know that , right ? in his chest there is a planted seed full of insecurities , that grows resentfully under his father abusive words . something heavy weighing at his shoulders , weighing on his tongue , because taylan knows his father is right and with every day that passes and the hockey season goes on , he keeps staying stuck in the same place . he hates himself for it , but more than that he hates his coach for abandoning him so quickly after all those years . turning his head around to look out the window , “ i guess i hoped he would've shown a bit more compassion , ” its a rare admission , voice lacquered in something both melancholic and distinctly fed up . his long lashes blinking away as he watches children run around in their costumes . returning his gaze to meet hers , his pupils turn steely , closing those ugly pitiful emotions from his twin like a barrier , curving around his irises like a prison ; not waning her to see him like this . when she kicks him under the table , he firmly states , “ over my dead fucking body , i won't allow anything bad to happen to you . ” anger still lingers like an itch of irritation underneath his skin , like ants crawling everywhere across his bones , itching him to react with violence , — and its only when selın calls him out for it that his hand loosens from its tight grasps around the glass . “ he doesn't deserve mom , doesn't deserve us . ” feeling those green eyes on his scar . its the only thing people keep focussing on these days , a fucking reminder that the world won't allow him to forget . pulling his medication from his pocket , taylan swallows a painkiller away with a large gulp of his drink . jaw clenches , teeth clutching hard at the glass .  its not enough to deaden those aching joints . his twin is the person he trusts most , but even this is something he can't open up to her about . they swore to never keep secrets between them , but he doesn't want her to worry more then she already does , and so he keeps on pretending . “ its really the welcome back party i had in mind . ” his lips almost take shape of an actual genuine smile , though his voice twists with sarcasm . his next words more gentle , “ missed you too , ” hooded eyes pull downward to stare at her plate of untouched food , but instead of the steak knife going into the meat , it takes stake on the table’s surface . peeling pieces of wood where their initials previously used to be T . Y . & S . Y . the table the twins had claimed in their childhood , appeared to have been replaced during his absence . pain giving way to mischief , his lips form an impish grin . “ now it's like i never left . ”

her stomach had been in knots all day , the dinner with her family looming above her head like a guillotine , but in the end the merciful sweep of the blade never came . instead , there she sat , in the spot that had been hers since childhood under the all-consuming shadow of her father , watching disconnected fragments of familiar scenes play out in front of her like some kind of sick play . it was hardly their worst family dinner , hardly their worst beratement , and yet selin feels like she might be sick . the food she'd ordered just to appease her mother sits cold and untouched on her plate , and she busies herself with pushing a couple of pathetic looking fries around with her fork , willing her lungs to find the air that only comes with her parent's departure . only then does she realize her hands are shaking , and selin drops them promptly onto her lap , not wanting her brother to see . the anger that radiates off of him is almost tangible , and it does little to soothe her racing heart . but she can't fault taylan for it , not when the realization that even the near death of his child is not enough to illicit kindness from their father's heart hangs heavy in between them , poisoning both their lungs . " he's always going to be an asshole , " she finally says , eyes searching hesitantly for his before she continues . " but none of what he says is true . you know that , right ? " she has the urge to reach across the table and squeeze his hand , but unsure of her own hand's steadiness , she doesn't . instead , selin kicks him gently under the table . " can we not talk about that ? " she hates how pathetic it makes her feel to ask , like it's an admittance of weakness on her part to not even want to hear the briefest mention of the misfortune plaguing red creek , but in such a shaky state she's not sure she can think about it , not when daniela's still missing . not wanting him to question her further , or worse , start to worry , selin pivots . " are you trying to get a new scar already ? " she tilts her head towards the glass he's one squeeze away from shattering , unable to stop her green eyes from drifting towards the very real one on his neck . she'd cried so hard the first time she saw it the nurses had questioned if she needed sedation . " he's small . his job isn't enough , mom isn't enough , this town isn't enough . sometimes i feel like we're the only way he feels useful . like parenting us is all he has , and that's why he's so batshit insane about it . " she pushes her plate towards taylan in the same way she's done since she was a child , her silent way of saying he's welcome to eat her food because she definitely won't be . " i bet you just feel so welcomed back , " selin says , a grin fighting its way onto her features , the ridiculousness of them as adults still sitting at the same restaurant , bitching about their parents shattering the heaviness of the conversation . and then she laughs , not caring if it sounds delusional , or if the other diners are still listening in . she was used to her small town , used to her business being everybody's business . " i really missed you , you know . "