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A M E L I AXB O U D R E A U X
_____ T H EXF R E EXS P I R I T _____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: The Boudreaux Residence
Dialogue Color âĻ #C35817
Thought Color ⧠#730800
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A M E L I AXB O U D R E A U X
_____ T H EXF R E EXS P I R I T _____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: The Boudreaux Residence
Dialogue Color âĻ #C35817
Thought Color ⧠#730800
After making sure Dion was dry and fresh, and completely changed, Lia threw away the soiled diaper while her boy made himself busy with her old nightstand, reaching up to grab one of the little fixtures she'd practically begged her mother for during one of their little shopping excursions. At the time, she even demanded that Diana get one too. She faintly wondered if her sister even kept it. She didn't have time to dwell on that thought, however, not when Dion decided that putting one of the pebbles from inside a glass bowl was the obvious next course of action.
"Aaaaaaaannnd this is why I don't let you have free reign, bubba," she exclaimed, scooping him up with one arm and using the hand of the other to snatch the pebble out of her hand. He whined, reaching for it, fitful. But she was not hearing it, tossing the pebble back into its container while turning them away from her nightstand amidst his struggles. "Hey, hey, hey...I said no." Dion's face scrunched up adorably, even though Lia didn't see anything particularly adorable about his fits. Oh my God, I'm actually a mom, she thought, not for the first time, while setting him back on the floor without releasing him. She crouched before the toddler, giving him as stern a look as she could. "Not everything goes in your mouth. You pretend like you don't understand me, but you know what no means." Naturally, she didn't think he always understood what the word meant, but he was beginning to comprehend that it was associated with her displeasure. The real issue was if her toddler even cared, especially when his own curiosity needed to be piqued. Distracted by her task and Dion's current mood, she hadn't even realized that she'd begun to calm and settle.
However, before she could attempt to get him back to being her bubbly baby boy, Amelia heard the doorknob twist. For a brief second, her heart froze in her chest, but then she heard Casey's voice, allowing her limbs to loosen again. Lia looked up then, a smile frozen on her lips as Dion turned to face Casey. Amelia felt him back into her upon her childhood best friend's words, chuckling to herself both at Casey and Dion's seeming desire to blend into his mother until he could not be seen. "It's okay," she whispered directly into Dion's ear, nuzzling the side of his neck until he giggled. Afterwards, she rose back to her full height and met Casey halfway in the kind of soul-warming crush only Casey could provide.
The two of them hadn't necessarily fallen out of contact. They always had one another's phone numbers. They called, they video chatted and Skyped; they remained as up to date with one another's lives as they could, despite living in entirely different countries - barring, of course, Amelia's refusal to announce her pregnancy and childbirth to anyone save for her brother. But somehow, Amelia had convinced herself that she was alright with not embracing her best friend - any of her friends - for a long period of time and now that she was back in Casey's arms, it was difficult to remember why she'd allowed herself to be such an idiot.
"I missed you, too, Cas," she replied, giving the other girl a squeeze before they parted, only to turn to see her son hurrying back to her person, throwing himself at her legs while never taking his eyes off of Casey. Laughing at her friend's joke and crouching again, she ignored Dion's request to be lifted for the sake of simply holding him, nuzzling him again until he laughed. "Shut up before I take back saying I missed you," she told Casey before turning her attention to Dion. "You can say hi, bubba. You're not shy." The last sentence was said teasingly, especially when Dion only giggled, little hands framing her own as they held him by his waist.
Amelia knew people would have questions about Dion, about his father and how this came to be. Thinking about the man made her bite back a frown, the ghost of hands at her throat and bruises lining her sides making her close her eyes for the moment it took her to pretend that she knew what composing herself looked like. She wouldn't even blame Casey if she could see through her; Lia saw through her damn self, especially when she'd failed to suppress the shiver the memories of him elicited. "Dion is mine," she said firmly, as if Margaret Boudreaux were the one before her, and not her friend. "His father isn't in his life and I don't want him to be." Dion glimpsed the side of her face and Amelia met his gaze, mouth widening into a grin as her son grinned back and kissed the tip of her nose like she did him. Giggling, she squeezed his sides until the boy shrieked out a laugh, adding, "Besides, I think we've been doing pretty good on our own, haven't we, bubba?" Dion only giggled again, curling into Lia's chest until she wrapped arms around him so that he could bury himself in her chest. "The real question is - how are you? You see her yet?" The look she gave Casey was pointed, making sure her friend knew exactly who the her she was referring to was.
"Aaaaaaaannnd this is why I don't let you have free reign, bubba," she exclaimed, scooping him up with one arm and using the hand of the other to snatch the pebble out of her hand. He whined, reaching for it, fitful. But she was not hearing it, tossing the pebble back into its container while turning them away from her nightstand amidst his struggles. "Hey, hey, hey...I said no." Dion's face scrunched up adorably, even though Lia didn't see anything particularly adorable about his fits. Oh my God, I'm actually a mom, she thought, not for the first time, while setting him back on the floor without releasing him. She crouched before the toddler, giving him as stern a look as she could. "Not everything goes in your mouth. You pretend like you don't understand me, but you know what no means." Naturally, she didn't think he always understood what the word meant, but he was beginning to comprehend that it was associated with her displeasure. The real issue was if her toddler even cared, especially when his own curiosity needed to be piqued. Distracted by her task and Dion's current mood, she hadn't even realized that she'd begun to calm and settle.
However, before she could attempt to get him back to being her bubbly baby boy, Amelia heard the doorknob twist. For a brief second, her heart froze in her chest, but then she heard Casey's voice, allowing her limbs to loosen again. Lia looked up then, a smile frozen on her lips as Dion turned to face Casey. Amelia felt him back into her upon her childhood best friend's words, chuckling to herself both at Casey and Dion's seeming desire to blend into his mother until he could not be seen. "It's okay," she whispered directly into Dion's ear, nuzzling the side of his neck until he giggled. Afterwards, she rose back to her full height and met Casey halfway in the kind of soul-warming crush only Casey could provide.
The two of them hadn't necessarily fallen out of contact. They always had one another's phone numbers. They called, they video chatted and Skyped; they remained as up to date with one another's lives as they could, despite living in entirely different countries - barring, of course, Amelia's refusal to announce her pregnancy and childbirth to anyone save for her brother. But somehow, Amelia had convinced herself that she was alright with not embracing her best friend - any of her friends - for a long period of time and now that she was back in Casey's arms, it was difficult to remember why she'd allowed herself to be such an idiot.
"I missed you, too, Cas," she replied, giving the other girl a squeeze before they parted, only to turn to see her son hurrying back to her person, throwing himself at her legs while never taking his eyes off of Casey. Laughing at her friend's joke and crouching again, she ignored Dion's request to be lifted for the sake of simply holding him, nuzzling him again until he laughed. "Shut up before I take back saying I missed you," she told Casey before turning her attention to Dion. "You can say hi, bubba. You're not shy." The last sentence was said teasingly, especially when Dion only giggled, little hands framing her own as they held him by his waist.
Amelia knew people would have questions about Dion, about his father and how this came to be. Thinking about the man made her bite back a frown, the ghost of hands at her throat and bruises lining her sides making her close her eyes for the moment it took her to pretend that she knew what composing herself looked like. She wouldn't even blame Casey if she could see through her; Lia saw through her damn self, especially when she'd failed to suppress the shiver the memories of him elicited. "Dion is mine," she said firmly, as if Margaret Boudreaux were the one before her, and not her friend. "His father isn't in his life and I don't want him to be." Dion glimpsed the side of her face and Amelia met his gaze, mouth widening into a grin as her son grinned back and kissed the tip of her nose like she did him. Giggling, she squeezed his sides until the boy shrieked out a laugh, adding, "Besides, I think we've been doing pretty good on our own, haven't we, bubba?" Dion only giggled again, curling into Lia's chest until she wrapped arms around him so that he could bury himself in her chest. "The real question is - how are you? You see her yet?" The look she gave Casey was pointed, making sure her friend knew exactly who the her she was referring to was.
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I K E N A S I OXA M A S I O - H A N S E N
_____ T H EXB A DXB O Y _____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: The Boudreaux Residence
Dialogue Color âĻ #307D7E
Thought Color ⧠#183E3F
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
I K E N A S I OXA M A S I O - H A N S E N
_____ T H EXB A DXB O Y _____
Outfit: Link Here
Location: The Boudreaux Residence
Dialogue Color âĻ #307D7E
Thought Color ⧠#183E3F
Instinctively, receiving praise for what he considered quick work - though it was work Nas genuinely loved doing, so he couldn't be too surprised that people were happy he did it right - discomfited him. Had Jeremiah not reached for him, initiating a bro-hug, Nas would've had no choice but to breathe out a ghost of a laugh, letting his hand raise to his head in an attempt to fuss with the short strands of raven hair at the top of his head only to be thwarted by the hat Amelia forced him to wear. As if remembering his manners, and finally being allowed to remove it because they were inside, Nas took the headwear off, returning Jeremiah's bout of affection. "No problem, man. Was glad to help," he answered honestly before releasing the other man in time to get bulldozed by Jenna.
Nas meant it, too. He had been glad to help. Jeremiah's mom had asked for his assistance around the same time he and Ben had started drifting apart, and it had seemed like a worthy distraction. Make sure a friend's mother was well taken care of and had the home she wanted to live in while pretending that he didn't know his home was becoming a house with two married roommates, perfect. The thought made him frown, but he didn't have time when Jenna grinned up at him. The brunette had honestly been a godsend over the years. They had never fallen out of touch. Nas had visited New York more times than he thought he would, especially considering the fact that he'd be the first to say he hated the city, but for her he'd been willing to bear the crowd. "I missed you too, Jen," he told her warmly before grinning at her follow up. "Don't let Lia hear you say that. She'll never let it go and probably try to be my personal stylist," he added, briefly glancing at the steps. Not enough time had probably passed for her to return down the steps and face the music, and he was hoping that the spitfire she'd always been will immerge. Before long, though, Jeremiah seemed to come back to himself and ask about Ben.
Nas never knew how to answer. Whether it was the lady who ran the bakery that had that Russian black bread he liked, or even his youngest brother - he never seemed capable of providing an adequate answer for his own feelings when it came to Ben. Especially not for the reason they were all here in the first place. The night Nas had gotten the call, his heart had nearly stopped in his chest followed by an ache he was sure would land him in the hospital before the night was over. Even as he gathered some things, made the necessary calls, and then drove all the way to Charlotte without stop, the ache had persisted, this uncomfortable chasm filled only with guilt and despair, until he'd been in his husband's hospital room, clinging to a still hand and hoping Ben would open his eyes. It happened, thank God, but Nas hadn't been there to prevent anything of the sort from happening in the first place. How does one unpack layers of failed responsibility and negligence like that? How does someone who has prided themselves on being accountable for their loved ones - for caring and providing for and looking after the people he loves the most - admit that they had not done so for the one person he should have? Nas swallowed.
Luckily, and this was probably the real reason why Nas could never rid himself of Jenna, she spoke up, diverting their attention to the idea of drinks. Nas breathed out a small laugh, relief coloring his expression as he shot her a look of gratitude. Face smoothing back into a more neutral expression, though, he said, "Yeah, I think a drink is in order."
Nas meant it, too. He had been glad to help. Jeremiah's mom had asked for his assistance around the same time he and Ben had started drifting apart, and it had seemed like a worthy distraction. Make sure a friend's mother was well taken care of and had the home she wanted to live in while pretending that he didn't know his home was becoming a house with two married roommates, perfect. The thought made him frown, but he didn't have time when Jenna grinned up at him. The brunette had honestly been a godsend over the years. They had never fallen out of touch. Nas had visited New York more times than he thought he would, especially considering the fact that he'd be the first to say he hated the city, but for her he'd been willing to bear the crowd. "I missed you too, Jen," he told her warmly before grinning at her follow up. "Don't let Lia hear you say that. She'll never let it go and probably try to be my personal stylist," he added, briefly glancing at the steps. Not enough time had probably passed for her to return down the steps and face the music, and he was hoping that the spitfire she'd always been will immerge. Before long, though, Jeremiah seemed to come back to himself and ask about Ben.
Nas never knew how to answer. Whether it was the lady who ran the bakery that had that Russian black bread he liked, or even his youngest brother - he never seemed capable of providing an adequate answer for his own feelings when it came to Ben. Especially not for the reason they were all here in the first place. The night Nas had gotten the call, his heart had nearly stopped in his chest followed by an ache he was sure would land him in the hospital before the night was over. Even as he gathered some things, made the necessary calls, and then drove all the way to Charlotte without stop, the ache had persisted, this uncomfortable chasm filled only with guilt and despair, until he'd been in his husband's hospital room, clinging to a still hand and hoping Ben would open his eyes. It happened, thank God, but Nas hadn't been there to prevent anything of the sort from happening in the first place. How does one unpack layers of failed responsibility and negligence like that? How does someone who has prided themselves on being accountable for their loved ones - for caring and providing for and looking after the people he loves the most - admit that they had not done so for the one person he should have? Nas swallowed.
Luckily, and this was probably the real reason why Nas could never rid himself of Jenna, she spoke up, diverting their attention to the idea of drinks. Nas breathed out a small laugh, relief coloring his expression as he shot her a look of gratitude. Face smoothing back into a more neutral expression, though, he said, "Yeah, I think a drink is in order."