Realistic or Modern The Fractured Isles

[BoneBrain]

In Calypso’s embrace we cleave this land,
Island birthed, a sovereign stand,
Earth’s fabric altered, nature’s and my command.
So mote it be. ​

The Fractured Isles were three pin pricks of black shapes dotting the horizon, the land back lit by the rising sun as the ferry approached the biggest of the three islands. The island that was soon to be his new home. Tristan Connelly stood at the ferry’s helm, his golden brown eyes already spotting the repetitive flashing light of the lighthouse he knew to be on the southern most island. Tristan’s hips dipped and swayed with a rather impressive swell from the ocean, it was like second nature to him now- he knew just how to move with the ocean and her perilous dance.

Half an hour later Tristan returned to his SUV with it’s gleaming metal sides and meticulous interior detailing. Even the boxes and suitcases piled around him were neatly stacked and labeled. The ferry wasn’t full and it took no more than ten minutes for the engines around him to rumble to life before they began their decent off the boat and into Hythe, The Fractured Isles only town. Along it’s worn cracked concrete small shops stood, boasting a ramshackle hardware store, quaint bookstore café combo and even a small chain grocer. Thick black lamp posts lit the way for the early morning traffic and old worn signs carved into the shape of fish hung from it’s cast iron rungs.

Tristan didn’t think a town could be more inspired by the Hallmark channel if it tried. He followed the direction of his GPS and eventually drove out of Hythe’s ‘downtown’ and into the more residential parts of the island. Hundreds bushy trees shaded over sidewalk and homes and Tristan wondered what it might be like to see the island in fall. Surely the yellow and orange leaves were quite the compliment to the ever blue waters that surrounded them. The tires of his car crunched over the gravel drive as he made his way through a winding path up to a attached duplexes that littered a hill haphazardly.

It had taken several hours days of research before Tristan had settled on the new development of cottage like duplexes as his new residence and after three lengthy video tours and endless phone calls with lawyers and the cottages builders he finally signed on the dotted line and rented himself the little sea foam home at the top of the hill. As he drove up the gravel drive he noticed the signs of other new neighbours who had also taken the opportunity to move in as soon as the homes were open. His engine rumbled to a stop when he pulled up the pretty white door of his cottage. Instantly his eyes slid from the door he knew to be his own over to the neighbours door. While he might have preferred a home that was detached one truly could not beat the price or the view these homes offered.

“I hope the neighbours are quiet.” He muttered to no one in particular as he pushed his door open and collected the first of the items to bring inside.

The inside of the duplex was exactly as Tristan had arranged for it to be, with per-selected furniture set up neatly and according to his specifications. His fridge was already stocked with the essentials and after a quick peek in the hall cupboard he spotted all the cleaning supplies and linens he could ever need. If one were to look up the word over-prepared in the dictionary they would not be surprised to find Tristan’s photo there. Satisfied with everything Tristan returned outside and his golden eyes instantly moved down the long drive when he noticed the kicking up of dust in the distance as another car approached.

 

[Rainelle]

The ferry ride had been fine--it was nice to chat with some of the islanders who were returning from trips to the mainland. Saoirse filed their friendly faces away in her mind for later. Getting connected in such a small community was an essential task she had to start right away, especially if she were to hide here. When the ferry docked and she bid farewell to her new friends, she climbed into her beat up 1996 beetle and began her journey to her new home.

It was certainly much prettier than dull gray skyscrapers of New York. The lush greenery and briny bite in the air filled Sersh with energy. The car was packed the the gills and messy--she had fled in the middle of the night after all. She was lucky that someone on the ferry owned half of a cottage duplex and was looking for a renter. It took a while to reach her destination, music blasting out her rolled down windows so she could enjoy the fresh air. She killed the engine when she arrived, climbing out of the car and stretching. Throwing her waist length red curls up into a ponytail, she gave a bright smile and waive to her neighbor, who also seemed to be unpacking.

"Hey there! I'm glad to know I'm not the only transplant moving in today!" She was dressed in layers like a hippie, obvious pajama shirt tucked messily into her ripped jeans, worn ankle boots with mismatched socks and a colorful knitted cardigan with her thumbs poking through the sleeves. Without waiting for an answer, she threw open the back door of her car and extracted Puck's crate. Puck was her best friend, a dusty brown male hare she had found as a baby and raised herself. Though right now he was nipping at her fingers and stomping impatiently.

"Ow, ow!! I get it, I get it you little brat! I'll let you out as soon as I can!" Shifting the weight of the crate in her arms, she found her way to the door. Only then did she remember she'd left the keys on her seat. Putting one leg up to support the crate, she looked over her shoulder with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, but can you grab my keys? They're just on the drivers seat of my car--ow!" She sucked in a breath as Puck drew blood this time, growing increasingly irritated with the hold up.

 

[BoneBrain]

If Tristan was all clean modern lines and symmetry the woman before him now seemed like spattered paint on an already busy canvas. His eyes narrowed on the unkempt way her shirt was tucked into her jeans, as it flared around her hips, her hair was well beyond regulation length and the little Beetle she drove was from the past century and well behind on the latest safety standards. Her smile aimed towards him as she got out of her car was like an errant sunbeam and Tristan did his damnedest not to notice the warmth from it's glow. He'd been about to return the greeting with a polite nod when the already busy scene in front of him got even crazier. He'd have bet money on her either pulling out a guitar case or bong but of all the tings he expected her to pull out of the back a rabbit was not on the list.

The brown, almost crazed looking hare with it's impatiently thumping foot and strange eyes spoke volumes in it's incessant need to leave it's cage. He was almost struck dumb, left standing in the middle of the drive as this hurricane of a woman traipsed up to her steps only to turn back at him and request that he bring her the key's she'd left on the seat of her car. He blinked, forcing himself to remember how to function and took three great steps up to her car. He found the keys surrounded by multiple keychains and snatched them up, before making his way to the woman. Instantly his eyes found the little well of blood on her finger.

"You're bleeding." His voice was low and melodic as he pointed out the obvious. He didn't hesitate, in a matter of seconds he found the right key for his neighbours door and shoved it open before backing away and retreating to his car where of course he had a first aid kit stored. He pulled the red bundle from his glove box and stepped into the front entry way of the home. While his neighbour didn't have any furniture he recognized the layout to be a direct mirror of his own rental.

"Come here." He ordered her like she was one of his crew without thinking as he stepped into the kitchen and set his first aid kit on the counter. If she approached he would waste no time in setting to work and cleaning the wound.

 

[Rainelle]

Sersh was certainly not expecting him to begin ordering her around when he saw the spec of blood on her finger. he stood in her kitchen with a rigidity she could not place. Coming in behind him, she gently placed down Puck's crate before turning to him.

"Sir, I greatly appreciate your help and all, but I will not be ordered around in my own home! Like a grown woman cannot handle a little cut! If you would, please, refrain from being so goddamn rude!" She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a stern look. Looking baffled, the man stared back for several minutes, seeming to be shocked by her words. After recovering, he picked up the little red box and made his way promptly out of the house. As he returned to his car, Saorise huffed to herself "I hope you develop some manners next time we speak." The two then unpacked their cars in silence.

Sersh arraigned her meager belongings as best she could, then turned on the wifi to check if the local stores were still open. Luckily, the grocer was, so she released Puck to wander about the house and climbed back into her car and headed down. After spending the last of her money on a new tank of gas and food supplies, she set about asking around. Everyone was very friendly, and she found out of the neighborhood garage sale day was the next morning. Haggling without money would certainly be a chore, but she would figure it out. There also seemed to be a job opening at the little bookstore cafe she could snap up.

She returned home again and filled her fridge and cupboards. Sersh managed dig up a few necessities hidden away in the closetes of the home--two sets of cutlery, a dented pot, an old pan, a baking pan, and some cups and plates. She fed Puck some greens and set about baking a cake to welcome herself home. She explored the little house more as she waited for it to bake. She unearthed a few towels from the bathroom closet as well as a single old quilt in the bedroom. When the cake finished, she stared at it for a while, thinking.

"Hello, yes, I'd be happy to help." She said to herself in a deep voice. "My name is Thomas, and I see you've hurt your finger. Do you need help?" She scoffed and rolled her eyes, grumbling a little more before taking one of the butter knives and cutting the cake in half and depositing it onto one of the plates. Begrudgingly, she went over to his door and knocked thrice with her knuckles.

 

[BoneBrain]

The little spitfire dismissed him with the authority of the highest ranking general. Tristan seemed only capable of blinking as her pretty face got right up in his and she accused him of rudeness. The idea that she would find his prompt retrieval of the first aid kit as nothing more than rude baffled him. It took all of his training to keep a neutral face as she ordered him out and expressed that he needed to find his manners before they spoke next.

Him? Psssh, it was her that needed the attitude adjustment. The unprepared little devil hadn't even thought to thank him for any of his assistance. Tristan stewed in his bafflement as they unloaded and once his car was empty and all his boxes were neatly stacked away in his home he shut the door on the redhead as she struggled to pull a suitcase from the back of her car. He spent a good portion of the day getting used to the home, and after triple checking that all the fuses in the box were working and checking every sink for leaks he finally got down to the task of unpacking his boxes and settling in. Thick mysteries and elaborate fantasy novels took station on the empty shelves and once all his books were exactly an inch from the ledge he moved to unpacking the few little decor items he kept near and dear.

He had just finished hanging a painting of the first sloop he'd ever manned when three curt knocks sounded on his front door. Instantly Tristan's back straightened and he maneuvered his way past a royal blue sofa to reach the door. One look through the peep hole almost blinded him with that mass of red hair and overly sunny disposition. He pulled open the door, his curiosity unable to keep him from ignoring her. His gaze started at her face, from the striking colour of her eye down the long thin column of her neck and down to fluffy looking cake that she held. Tristan's shoulder found the doorframe and he leaned against it as his gaze once more drew back to her face. An amused tilt of his brow was the only indication of his emotional state.

"Well." He said dryly. "As far as apologies go, this isn't all bad." He thought of her wounded finger then, and with a softer tone he asked, "you're hand is doing ok?" He wasn't sure what type of shots that crazed rabbit had but certainly if she had rabies her hand would look more irritated.

 

[Rainelle]

Sersh scoffed and combed her wild hair away from her face, the long white streak that started by her left temple coming into view briefly as it fell over her back. Her bright green eyes took in the stoic figure before her, with the sarcastic smile on his face irritating her further. Though his tone softened slightly when he asked after her finger.

"You are the one who owes me an apology, sir." She replied in a huff, before thrusting her arm out to him, the cake now level with his folded arms. "I'm fine, of course. But it's miserable to be welcomed into a new home by no one at all. Bad luck and all that. I've spent all I have on making this and I only have two plates, so be sure to return it when you're done." After he'd taken the plate, she hopped off his front stoop, only to stop and bend over on the small patch of grass beside it. Her hair shifted with it's weight as she changed positions, revealing a dark blue triskelion tattoo on the back of her neck.

Straightening, she turned back to him, her freckled face bright in the late afternoon sun. She took the two steps back to his door and placed a small four leafed clover upon the un-iced cake. "See? Your luck is turning around already. You just have to soften up that scowl and I'm sure much more bountiful things will come your way." She turned again, only to turn back halfway to her own door. "I'm Saoirse Murphy, by the way. I'll be just beyond that wall if you need something. Tomorrow is the town wide garage sale, by the by. In case you're missing anything." She studied him again, quietly as she waited for his response. Such a handsome man--what a shame he was wound so tight.

 

[BoneBrain]

Tristan held the cake like it was a bomb that might go off at any second, and for half a moment he considered asking the whirlwind redhead if it was poisoned but wisely he kept his question to himself. The soft aroma of freshly baked cake steamed up and danced under his nostrils as the woman lectured him a little more before retreating. Were Tristan a less honest man he might have been able to convince himself that his eyes didn't linger on the deep blue tattoo or the soft curve of her as she bent- but Tristan wasn't the dishonest sort and he couldn't deny that his dark eyes heated a trail down the line of her.

She returned then rambling on as he was coming to understand was her default mode and placed the little bit of green luck on his cake. Sailors were not above superstition and he regarded the token with a slow blink of his eyes. She spoke of garage sales the following morning and then when she was out of arms reach and back on the drive did she give him her name.

Saorise Murphy.

He didn't know it's meaning or even know if his tongue could replicate the soft lilt she used to speak it but one thing was certain- Saorise's name suited her.

"Tristan Connelly." He told her, his mouth a thin stern line as he contemplated the idea of spending even more time with this woman- at a local garage sale drive no less. There was nothing he needed, and truly there were many other things that he could do instead of willingly spend more time with Saorise and yet he found himself nodding to her suggestion. "I'll bring you the plate tomorrow before the sales then." his dark hair curled and flopped onto his forehead as he gave her a curt nod before stepping back into his house and shutting the door with a soft click.

Tristan sat at his small square dining room table, regarding the cake for a long while before he relented and dug in. Dessert before supper- what on earth was he thinking? When he finished Tristan plucked the withering four leaf clover from the plate and took it to his bookcase. He found a heavy leather bound novel with no title and opened it to one of the blank pages his grandmother had yet to fill before she passed. it felt right to place the little token between those pages, and once he was certain it was correctly positioned he closed the book, ignoring the words he had once long ago treasured.

The sun glowed deep orange on the seas horizon, making the waters sparkle and dance and Tristan was silent in contemplation as he got ready for bed. The island had proven to be much like the sea in it's predictability and he couldn't help but wonder how to tame it. He dreamt of golden waters and cave mouths guarded by the tides. Torch light and forbidden caresses and when he woke he remembered none of it.

As always, Tristan rose before the first chime of his alarm and he spent a good portion of his early morning slipping into the routine that had become more comfort to him than anything else life could offer. Wake, journal, go for a run, strength training, shower, breakfast. By the time his muscles ached and smelled of his lemony body wash it was about 9:30 in the morning. To Tristan this time was pretty much afternoon and he was certain that his neighbour would be up and about, so he had no qualms in gathering the now clean plate along with his own offering of fresh wild flowers he'd come upon on his run. He took the few short steps over to Saorise's door and knocked sharply.

 

[Rainelle]

Saoirse had been woken from her sleep upon the living room floor with a start when her phone rang loudly. It was only about 6 am, so she cursed heavily as she fumbled around Puck to find it. Without looking, she picked up, only to regret it. Her father was reaming her out at the top of his lungs. She certainly wouldn't be getting anymore sleep now. Sersh began to yell back, cooking breakfast for and eating it in between bouts. She put herself on mute to shower and then continued to yell back as she dressed. By 9:30 there was a short knock at at the door, and she flung it open, motioning Tristan inside.

"No, Da," Though she was raised in America, her whole family spoke fluent Celtic, and her accent tended to come out when she was angry. "I'm NOT marrying him and that is that! I don' care how long you've had the agreement and I don' care who his family is! I'm 28 years old! I will NOT be told what to do like a child! I'm not coming home until ye get this folly out of your mind!" She slammed the phone down on the counter with a hiss, storming back to the bathroom to finish her hair, which was partially braided in twin plaits. Her outfit was more fit for the weather this time, a pair of sunny yellow overalls with a white t-shirt beneath it. It was easy to see the blue tattoos that littered her arms and fingers, seeming almost to dark for her skin. Coming back out to the living room, she found Tristan standing in the kitchen, looking for which cabinet to put the plate in.

"Sorry abou' that," She said sheepishly, her accent still thick. "My father can be thick. He's all blustered about tradition." She quickly washed the breakfast mess, leaving it out on one of her only tea towels to dry and drying her hands on her pants. "Now, shall we see what we can find? A sale like this is great for getting to know the neighborhood!" Without much ado, she threw on her boots and purse and dragged him out the door by the arm. "I don' normally get all handsy with any man, you know." She told him as they walked, her hand securely on the crook of his elbow. "But you seem like you'll bolt as soon as I release ya." She laughed, finally letting him go. When he didn't turn tail, she grinned, pleased.

The first yard they came upon was stuffed to the gills with trinkets and linens. There were a few wooden chairs as well--seemed to be part of an old dining set. Rubbing her hands together, Sersh set to work. She began to comb through the piles diligently, making note of the things she needed. The old lady that sat on her porch greeted them warmly.

"Hello there! It's nice to see some new faces!" Her friend who sat beside her with a paper fan giggled, eyeing Tristan.

"And such handsome new faces!" She replied. Sersh snorted, not looking up from her work.

"Don't let his beauty fool you! He can be quite the grump." The old ladies tittered a bit before the second one said

"Oh, don't you know, hun? The grumpy ones are the best in bed." She winked at Tristan, and her friend smacked her on the arm.

"Lizzy!! Don't scare away the young folks! I need them to help clear out all this!"

 

[BoneBrain]

The door was flung open and all at once Tristan regretted his agreement to join Saorise on her jaunt to the sales. The flowers all but wilted in her hands as she gestured him inside all the while shouting into her phone. He winced, doing his best not to overhear or take in any of the information she was so willingly thrusting into his hands but he couldn't help the spark of curiosity that flamed within him. Tristan did his best to appear like he couldn't hear a thing as he began to open up the cupboards in her kitchen looking for both a vase and a place to put the plate. He ended up settling for a small tea cup and filled it with water before setting the flowers artfully into it's depths. Saorise slammed the phone on the counter with a deep hiss that reminded him of a cat, promising whomever it was on the other line that she would not be returning from whence she came.

She didn't spare Tristan another glance, only returning to him when he was on the last of the cupboards in his quest to put the plate away. His dark eyes took in her completed look and he fought off the flutter of his fingers that itched to reach and tug on one of her braids. At her apologies he blinked, trying to figure out what on earth he should say in response.

"Hmm." Was all he managed as she began to clear up her mess from breakfast. He thought to tell her that tradition and order wasn't so bad but after considering that he still had to journey with her for the next few hours he wisely kept his mouth shut. Once more she whirled around him, grabbing her things and then finally him by the arm and proceeded to drag him out the door and into the warm early summer sun. He was grateful for the simple jeans and faded t-shirt he wore, anything more and he would surely be sweltering soon.

"I don't run away from things- especially people." Tristan grumped at her as she tucked her arm ever so nicely into the crook of his arm. They walked arm in arm for a long while, taking themselves down the long gravel drive and towards the residential area of town. Tristan had to admit that Saorise seemed to fit into the islands vibe for more than he did. Lawns filled with silly colour ornaments and bright plumages of florals assaulted his eyes. When they came upon the first yard laden with trinkets and old goods Saorise dove into the fray like the most weathered sailor. As she appraised the items Tristan felt the watchful eyes of the women who sat upon their porch, her grey stands of hair waving in the weak wind of her fan.

"We are." Tristan said in acknowledgement of their newness, and when Saorise quipped that he was grumpy he couldn't stop the frown he sent her way in response. At the laughter that followed he resisted the urge to growl. A soft red tinge covered his pale cheeks after Lizzy's observation about him and his prowess in the bedroom- he wouldn't dignify her with a response even if a part of him wanted to laugh. Such topics weren't meant for polite conversation. Besides, Lizzy would probably keel over if he was forthright in his depravity.

"See anything you like handsome?" Lizzy ignored her friends second swat, this time with the fan. Tristan had to work hard not to smile, in desperation he turned his attention to the items strewn over the lawn.

"Have you ladies lived here long?" He asked when he still felt the press of their gazes on the back of his neck.

"All our lives." Lizzy answered, getting up from her chair and moving towards the stairs. Automatically Tristan approached, offering his hand to help her down the stairs. "Mary here was even born in this house." Lizzy beamed at Tristan's offered hand, her weathered fingers slid against his and he helped her down the stairs. The old, yet surprisingly spry woman toddled over to Saorise with a determined sort of gleam in her eyes. She paused to grab a small wooden carved box and when she opened it soft music and a small dancing couple in the centre of the jewelry box was revealed. "Here now, a pretty thing for a pretty woman." Lizzy placed the box in Saorise's hands, a gleam in her dark eyes. "Twenty dollars, and not a penny less." Lizzy held out an expectant hand aimed towards Tristan. "Such a pretty gift for a pretty beau, no?"

"Oh we're not-" Tristan shook his head.

"Elizabeth Helena Brown- you cease your antics this instant. I've got enough on my hands what with next weeks party and my oven dying on me." Mary begged as she rose to her feet waggling her fan in Lizzy's direction. The woman in question did not look the least bit contrite.

 

[Rainelle]

Sersh laughed as the women bickered. Lizzy came over and shoved the beautiful music box in her hands with a wink. She giggled, turning the bauble over in her hands after the music finished.

"It's certainly beautiful, but I cannot do it. However!" She gathered several mismatched cups and mugs from the table, as well as motioned to the set of chairs. "I'll be taking this lot. I don't have any money, but I'm due for a job down at Wellspring Books, and I've got plenty of services to offer. You've said a party, right?" Mary nodded. "I've got a working oven. Come to my house and I'll help you with all the food prep. That should at least cover the chairs. Tell me what I owe for the rest and we'll sign an IOU." Sersh had always had that charm about her--she could talk her way into anyone's heart. The old women discussed amongst themselves for a moment before agreeing. She owed 25 dollars after her work, so they signed the IOU. She took one of their many canvas totes to keep her haul and the pair waived goodbye before beginning to the next. She'd even gotten the old music box, since Lizzy insisted.

"It's hot as hell, hold this." She thrust the bag into Tristan's hands and dug in her purse for bobby pins. She twisted the braids around her head expertly, pinning them down at intervals until they were secure. She had a crown of fiery red hair now, glowing slightly in the bright sun. She took the bag back and gave him a grin, cracking her knuckles as they came upon the next yard. "Alright, are you ready for war?" He quirked a brow at her and she laughed. "You're my cannon fodder, sir! Eye candy to distract all the old ladies while I swindle them into the best deals. Promise I'll give you a quite a treat if we get everything on my list." She winked.

They spent that hot afternoon meeting everyone within two neighborhoods, and Sersh managed to secure everything she needed. All the usual furniture, though eclectic and in varying states of wear. Plenty of everything to fill out her kitchen and bath, as well as more kick-knacs as she'd ever need and supplies for Puck. She'd also secured them both several phone numbers and promises of welcome food, as well as the location for the local farm supply store where she could easily source whatever she needed for her rabbit. Most of the bigger pieces were to be delivered by many husbands and sons after the football match was finished airing on TV that evening. The pair were laden down with bags as they made their way back.

Saoirse was giggling with delight, skipping despite the heavy weight. "I don't think I've ever seen SO many ladies blush like that! Well done! You've also got, what, ten potential dates now? Not a bad deal, I reckon! Well, did you enjoy yourself even a little, Eeyore?" She teased, poking her tongue out at him.

 

[BoneBrain]

Being cannon fodder wasn't quite as bad as Tristan had first thought- while the attention from most of the island's residents had been more than overwhelming it had been a treat to witness Saorise as she swept into each sale like a rouge wave. She charmed the pant's off well meaning wives and grandmothers far more than his supposed looks could ever, and by the third house Tristan had even held out his hand for the heaviest of the tote bags and slung it over his shoulder without complaint. While Saorise mingled and met with the townsfolk Tristan was more than happy to be an observer, but the damned woman kept pulling him into conversations.

He met wives of men he was soon to command and had even been plied with cookies by a few hopeful women that seemed more than ready to step into the dating pool. It would have been rude to deny the food, even if he had no interest in any of them.

By the time the afternoon had rolled around Tristan had met plenty of women who all seemed interested in delving deeper into knowing him- all at Saorise's encouragement. His arms were heavy with all of Saorise's finds and even a find of his own (an old looking stein with a beautiful ships carving embedded in it's ceramic) and he looked towards the beautiful woman with her frayed out braids tucked in a halo around her head wondering how the woman was defying gravity and managing to skip despite her load. He could see their little homes at the top of the hill and already a few pieces of furniture sat in the drive. At her words he felt the soft pink of his blush turn the tips of his ears nearly crimson.

"That was only because you kept insisting that I was on the market." He griped at her. He blatantly didn't answer her question as to whether or not he'd enjoyed himself, but Saorise wouldn't let him off the hook that easily. The knowing look she sent him had him hauling up her bags just a little, it was almost like he instinctively thought that the less of him she saw the less she would know. "It... wasn't horrible." He muttered when she merely arched a red brow in his direction. They plodded the last few steps up the hill and Tristan gently placed down his load, his arms aching with the relief of it. He took stock of the massive pile of tote bags around them and the few pieces of furniture that had already shown up.

"These chairs look like they're ready to collapse at any given moment." He muttered, stepped towards them while Saorise busied herself with unlocking the door. With a single hand he flipped one of the rickety old chairs over to peer at it's jointing. "I hope you're just planning on using this as decoration and not for function." He called to Saorise, when she didn't answer him and opened her door the sailor sighed and set to work helping her bring her new things in.

It was close to supper time by the time everything was loaded away into Saorise's house and Tristan gave her a curt farewell before grabbing his keys and making for his car, his new task already set in his mind. Normally he would have waited till the morning to go to the hardware store and grab what he needed but his first shift on the boat started the following morning and he wouldn't have time. Tristan worked efficiently, soaring through the old hardware store ten minutes to close grabbing everything he needed. The sailor paused on his way back to the car, the smell of pizza making his mouth water.

His nutritionist would have cried had he known the contents of Tristan's diet over his first 24 hours on the island, but what the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Two boxes of cheese and pepperoni warmed his leather passenger seat, making his stomach growl as he pulled up to the sea foam cottage once more. Grim didn't waste time by stopping at his own door, instead he knocked loudly once more and when Saorise opened the door he held up his offering of food before stepping into the house with his new bag of tools.

"One is cheese one is pepperoni, just in case you're a vegetarian." He told her. Tristan wouldn't have been surprised if she was, she seemed the type. Carefully side stepping the rabbit that seemed to be staring up at him with a knowing eye Tristan picked up the first of the chairs and opened his tool bag. Setting to work on fixing them before the woman did something stupid like sit on it and have it collapse under her.

 

[Rainelle]

Saoirse was more than surprised when Tristan came to her door voluntarily and barge in, not only with food but to fix up the chairs she'd acquired that afternoon. She took the pizza into the kitchen and put once piece of each onto a plate, then put the plate by where he was on the coffee table so he could eat as he worked. She also filled a glass with water and placed it beside.

"That's two apologies you owe me now, Eeoyre." She chided. "You seem to make a habit of treating me like a buffoon." Sersh huffed, before unearthing her own toolbox from beneath the sink and stomping off to the bedroom to put together the antique metal twin bed frame. It was pretty easy, she was finished quickly then hauled up the box spring. Saorise went out to check on him, and he was packing up his tools. She took two slices of pizza for herself and carried the boxes over to his door with him, as his hands were full with his stein and supplies. She only went in as far as to place the boxes upon his coffee table. "Goodnight then. Don't let the bed bugs bite." She closed the door behind her without waiting for his reply.

Sersh spent the rest of the evening setting up her new bedroom. The rest of the house could wait until after her interview and possible shift the next day. She took a quick shower before hopping into bed, Puck already nestled amongst her pillows. The heat and exertion from the day had her eyelids falling quickly, though just before she fell asleep she remembered the evil eye pendant she'd bought him to hang across from his door.

"I'll give it to him when he apologizes properly..." She muttered, before falling asleep in earnest.

 

[BoneBrain]

Tristan couldn't fathom what on earth he'd done to have to apologize to the woman for and when she closed the door to his house without saying goodbye he let out a disgruntled huff. The pizza was like a heavy pit in his stomach and he looked towards their neighbouring wall while trying to figure out what he'd done wrong. Tristan wasn't the sort to let accidents happen, especially if one could see them from a mile away, that how men lost their lives on the ocean. It only took one misplaced bundle of rope to get caught around your legs before you were dragged down into the icy depths. When he reasonably could not find any fault in his actions Tristan turned away from the wall that hid the woman away from him and got ready for bed.

The following morning Tristan went about his usual routine with the addition of packing himself up a lunch. Thick boots covered his feet and he gathered up his layers of clothing that he was sure to put on when the boat was out to sea. He made it to the docks of Hythe just as the first of the suns beams started to light up the sky and clouds with it's pastel hues. The Contessa was one of the many vessels getting ready to depart for the days fishing and as soon as Tristan stepped on the worn wooden deck of the boat he felt right at home. The men fell in line, nodding along with the Captain Joseph Hughes as he introduced the crew to their newest first mate.

They worked like a well oiled machine, save for a few instances where the men paused, looking towards the captain for the the go-ahead to follow the orders Tristan had given. It was to be expected however- respect was earned and Tristan knew the song and dance of earning the men's respect well. He kept his nose clean and helped the men pull up their nets, heavy with wriggling fish destined for markets and high class restaurants that called for the fish from the Isles surrounding seas. Suppertime was fast approaching as the men tied off the Contessa and emptied their load for the distributors to handle.

Tristan found his hand tightly clasped in the Josephs and eagerly pumped up and down, "that was quite the good show out there, son." Joseph had a low melodic voice that matched perfectly with his weathered dark skin and kind eyes that shone like coals. "A few of the boys will be heading over to Last Round if you'd like to join us for a pint?"

"I'd be delighted." Tristan's words were a stark contrast to the stone faced neutrality that seemed etched into his skin. It made the captain laugh.

"If you say so."

Soon enough Tristan was gathered with the men around a large rectangular table in the centre of the towns only pub. With it's wooden interior and stained glass windows the place looked like it had been plucked straight from the depths of Dublin. He stayed quiet, listening to the men share their tales of harrowing misses and explosive storms that manifested out of nowhere. They laughed and clinked their glasses together after each tale and with each passing drink the men grew more and more rowdy.

"...so I said to her, Martha- I don't think it's going to fit." The table erupted in laughter and Gustav had to pause to wipe away the tear that watered his eyes. Tristan rose from his table then signaling with his empty glass that he was going to get another when Joseph announced he would join him. They moved towards the ornate bar top and Tristan stumbled forward as Joseph gave him a rather enthusiastic slap on the back.

"You settling in alright then, son?" He asked as he leaned heavily against the bar.

"I think so. The men still need to get to know me of course, and my neighbour is a bit of a thorn but I'm certain she and I will find our groove. So far it's going as well as can be expected." Tristan forced himself to speak the honest words, knowing that the first step to joining the crew of men was honesty.

"Oh, a thorn in your side? Do tell." Joseph signaled for two more beers when the bartender stopped by to take their order.

"Oh I don't know. She keeps going on about how rude I've been, and that I owe her an apology but next thing I know she's dragging me halfway across the island. She's just so... unpredictable. Flighty even." Tristan thanked the bartender for the beer and in a move quite unlike himself he tipped his head back and drank about half the beer in three big gulps.

"Let me guess- looks like sin, perfect red hair, body made for grabbing onto." Joseph supplied with a wry smile.

Tristan eyed the captain suspiciously, "how did you know?"

"She just walked in, mate."

 

[Rainelle]

Sersh's first day at the bookshop was a rousing success! She'd nailed the interview and spent the rest of the day training. First, she'd learn the bookshop inside and out, then she'd also take shifts as a barista. Luckily, she'd done that before so it wouldn't take much time to get into it. The two people who worked there presently were the granddaughter of Mary, and her friend from college. It was good to be around people her age.

After work, they took her along to the town's pub to celebrate. Upon entering, she spotted Tristan at the bar, not far from a rowdy group of fishermen. She groaned, rolling her eyes and moving to a small table away from the bar.

"Is that him?" Fae asked, her eyes glittering.

"Yes." Sersh replied, propping her face up on her hands with her elbows on the table. "He may be stunning, but his personality is terribly pickled." She pulled a face. Dean moved into the other seat, his long earring swinging on his left ear.

"Military men are THE WORST with manners. Trust me, I've dated plenty of them." Sersh scoffed.

"Exactly! He acts like I'm one of his men, trying to order me around or just doing whatever he pleases without asking first."

"Sounds like a control freak." Dean sympathized, rubbing her shoulder gently. "They're all like that." Fae had gone to get them drinks and was chatting with Tristan and Joe at the bar. "Can't wait to see how Fae stirs him up." Dean grinned and Sersh grimaced.

~~

Fae ordered cocktails and as she waited, greeted the men.

"So this is the new boy, eh? How's he doing, Joe?"

"Splendidly." The older man replied with a smile.

"That's good to hear! At least we know he can make a good impression, when he wants to." Joe cackled into his drink as Tristan's head snapped up. Fae gave a shrug at his glare. "Hey, not my fault dude. Good looks can only get you so far, even if you're stunning like she says." She stared at him as his mouth hung open slightly and she laughed. "Too bad. Spending time with those louts on that boat is only going to make your manners worse." The drinks were up, so she collected them and bid Joe good night over her shoulder. Looking at Tristan's face, Joe burst out laughing, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Women. Don't try too hard to understand them, boy."
~~

When Fae returned and told of what she'd done, Sersh wanted to laugh, but ended up kind of slumping over her drink instead.

"You're sweet to think of me, Fae, but you didn't have to."

"Oh, I most certainly did!" She replied. "Y'all are obviously attracted to each other. Nothing will come of it if he keeps his head in his arse."

"I'm perfectly fine without him, thank you." Sersh snapped, and the others laughed. She groaned and placed her head in her hand as they began to chat about other things.

 

[BoneBrain]

Tristan could feel the pulse of his blood and the roar of his heartbeat in his chest as the strange woman who'd shown up with Saorise completely and utterly put him on his metaphorical ass. Joseph slapped his shoulder gaily as Tristan's gaze followed the woman back to her table where Saorise leaned over her drink and struck up what looked to be an intense conversation with her companions. His hand tightened on the glass of his beer and he forced his gaze away from the maddening woman as she poisoned some of the townsmen against him.

"A right thorn she is." He muttered.

"Ah but all the most beautiful roses have the sharpest thorns." Joseph said in a wise tone, though Tristan didn't think a rose was the right thing to call Saorise. Both Captain and first mate returned to the men and after another round two of the older crewmen, fueled by beer and the cheers of the others began a lilting sea shanty- calling on the feminine nature of the sea to send them home to their wives. It was a song Tristan knew well and had he not been stewing on the words from both Saorise and her rather annoying little friend he might have gotten up and aided them with the nearby piano in the bars corner. Instead he downed the last of his beer and rose abruptly from the table.

"Excuse me." He muttered to no one in particular. His heavy boots thudded on the wood flooring of the bar as he marched right up to the table where Saorise and her two friends sat. The male of the group twisted, his mouth gaping open at the menacing stare sent his way.

"Holy shit, you weren't kidding Sersh."

"Evening." Tristan all but snarled at the trio. If Saorise wanted him to be the bad guy he could play the part, his hand reached down to grasp at the back of Saorise's chair and he tugged it out a few inches. "You have two options Saorise, either we have this out here and now for everyone to hear or we step outside and settle this like civilized adults." He was done with whatever this was, done with feeling like a fool and caring about it. He'd only known the woman less than 48 hours and she had him twisted up in knots. He'd even be the gentleman and let her go first in airing out whatever had irked her in the first place, and then it would be his turn to calmly explain that she was completely wrong and misguided about his motives. He'd done nothing but help her for christ's sake. The wooden backing of Saorise's chair creaked with how tightly he held it.

"Make a choice Saorise."

 

[Rainelle]

This is exactly what she didn't want to happen. She knew the minute Fae returned to the table that Tristan would blow a gasket. Gods above and on her ancestors graves, she was over it. How was she to keep a low profile if she became the town gossip in less than a week? She had to put an end to whatever was making him angry and distance herself as soon as possible. She'd scold Fae and Dean later.

She stood, and without a word left out the front door of the pub. He followed and once outside, and stood menacingly in the doorway, smelling rank of beer. When he said nothing, she let out a frustrated noise. Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighed heavily.

"Look, I'm sorry about whatever Fae said. I never asked her to do anything, much less make you angry. I know you think I'm a frigid witch, but I'd not sully your name just because I don't like you. I am, truly, sorry." Pressing her hands to her chest, she gave a half bow. He stood there with that same unreadable expression as always, which infuriated her further,r but she bit her tongue. "Look, let's just agree to ignore each other from now on, alright? If that's not enough, then--" She thought for a moment before digging through her pockets. She pulled out two crumpled twenties--the advance on her first paycheck--walked up to him and stuffed them into his hand. "There. I'll pay for your drinks for tonight and we never need to talk to each other again. Goodnight and goodbye, Mr. Connolly." She turned on her heel and began to walk away, towards her car to return home.

 

[BoneBrain]

He stood there like a fucking deer in the headlights as the last words he expected Saorise to say tumbled from her mouth. Her apology felt like a punch to the gut and Tristan couldn't understand why in that moment he truly did feel like the bad guy. Her offer to never speak to him again should have had him rejoicing- that was one less headache to deal with then, but the even after their limited time he couldn't fathom ignoring the woman across from him. She was too bright and impossible to look away from. He wanted to throw the money back at her, wanted shake some sense into her and get on with the fight they both clearly had needed to have.

She tore away from him, leaving him frozen there like one the bronze sculptures that lined the harbours walking paths. That had not gone at all like he thought it would and Tristan wanted to rip his hair out from how much Saorise confused the hell out of him. She'd just reached the door of her car when his sense came rushing back to him. His long legs ate up the distance between them and he halted her act of opening the door by pushing it shut with an arm. He kept his hand there, pressed to the cool metal of her car door, effectively caging her between him and the car.

"No." He his words rumbled like the storm clouds that seemed to be gathering above them. "I know you have experience running from things Ms. Murphy, but I'm not going to let you run from this." He leaned in, a flash of lighting from above lighting up the dwindling space between them. "We are in fact neighbours, and you know as well as I do that this will not be the last time our paths cross. I will not spend my days ducking out of your way for the sake of your inability to speak to me like a fucking adult." His gaze lingered over her face, drawing down the line of her nose all the way down to the little cupids bow that decorated the top of her lips. He felt the first spatter of rain against his skin and jerked back, reaching for the door of her car and gesturing her in. "Drive home safe, Ms. Murphy. Let me know when you're ready to chat."

He closed the door after she hopped in and he stepped onto the sidewalk as her brake lights illuminated the area at his feet in a sea of red. He watched her go, standing there until he couldn't see the lights from her car- ignoring the cool wash of the rain over his skin.

 

[Rainelle]

Saoirse managed to make it to the driveway and park before she had her meltdown. She screamed, beating on the wheel and literally shaking in frustration. By the time she stopped, tears were coming out of her eyes, making her vision blurry. She managed to stumble out of her car, hitting her forehead on part of her door frame as she fumbled for her keys. She could feel the sting of splitting skin and knew there would be blood.

Once she was inside, she shut the door without locking it and crumpled to the ground, beginning to sob. How could a man who didn't know her at all break her down into such small pieces? How dare he accuse her of being a coward, a child! When all he'd ever done was treat her like she was an idiot and be rude to her! Where did he get all that wretched, insufferable confidence from?! She had tried to appease him, give him what he wanted from the start and made so obvious. He had no love for her, why did he insist on having a confrontation?? Sersh cried on the floor there until late into the night, past hearing Tristan drive up and his door close.

Puck eventually managed to nudge her enough to get off the floor. She fed him and managed to drag the clothes off her body and crawl into bed. The next morning she woke and took a shower, braiding her hair so it was out of the way. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the bruising around the cut on her head looked quite severe. It was in reality just a small cut which she bandaged. She dressed in loose, dark clothes and went out into her small back garden to sit and watch the ocean with her cup of coffee. The warmth spread throughout her hands and up her arms, slowly bringing life back into her aching body. She always felt sick when she cried too long; like all the energy had been drained out.

Her mother's claddagh ring clinked softly against the ceramic mug as she tried to think of what her troublesome neighbor wanted from her. Sighing heavily, she drew her legs up under her and set about her pondering. She eyed his own garden door warily, as if it would produce him at any moment. She certainly didn't want him seeing her in such a state.

 

[BoneBrain]

No amount of consoling from Joseph or the rest of the crew could turn Tristan's evening around and he bid the men farewell, he paid with his own card- her money be damned and brought himself home to a silent empty house. Outside the rain pattered away against the earth and sea and the faint cracks of lighting softly lit his route as he climbed up the stairs to his bedroom and went about his bedtime routine. His body ached from the long day on the water and he stood under the spray of the hot shower for long minutes as he contemplated what to do. If Saorise thought he was being unreasonable now, she truly had no clue how prickly he could be. It was going to take considerable effort on his part to meet her halfway on anything, but they were neighbours- he didn't want his home to be stained with anger and resentment.

He knew too well how awful that felt.

He had another dreamless sleep and woke at the ass-crack of dawn as usual and went about getting himself ready for work. It was a maintenance day on the ship, so they wouldn't be leaving for deeper waters but he worked out and prepared for the day like he might have to weather the toughest storm. You never knew with the sea. By the time his run was just about complete sweat was dripping down his back and staining the soft grey of his running shirt. He peeled it off without a thought, revealing a strong chest as he padded through the back trail towards the sliding glass door of his back patio. His back garden had been neatly maintained with small bundles of flowers growing out of brightly coloured pots. There was also a raised garden patch that was meant to be shared by the neighbours. Using the fabric of his shirt Tristan mopped at his brow before freezing when he spotted he wasn't alone.

Saorise seemed to dress like her mood and with her dark oversized clothes. She was tucked into one of the garden chairs curled in on herself as she clutched at her mug. She looked so small and fragile to him then. There was something about the woman before him that seemed to drive his protective instincts up the wall and when his eyes narrowed on the sickly blue tinged skin that marred her forehead he couldn't stop the powerful step he took in her direction before he steadied himself.

"Saorise." His words all but simmered with his fury. "Who did this to you?" He kept himself from moving to her. Each time he had in the past she'd called him rude.

 

[Rainelle]

Of course he would show up. Looking like THAT. While she looked a fright. He went rigid at the sight of her bruise, took a single step forward and demanded to know who had done it.

She snorted into her mug and let out a wry laugh, though with her hoarse voice it sounded like a crow’s screech.

“You did, Mr. Connelly.” It was the truth. At his puzzled look she shook her head. She looked back towards the ocean. “You’ll be late, you know. Better hurry if you’re to make it. You know where I live, after all”
~~

Sersh had finished putting together the rest of her house and things, her favorite being arranging the myriad of sun catchers on the window above the sink.

She was cooking dinner; a simple beef stir fry, with a loaf of sweet bread in the oven. Cooking and baking always soothed her. The prep was methodical and the act of cooking itself was creative. Though she still looked a mess, she was certainly calmer now.

It seemed the crew finished early that day, because a knock came at her door just as sunset was ending. The dying light fragmented through the sun catchers sent rainbows all over the cozy, whimsical space she created.

Sersh grounded herself with a few deep breaths before opening the door, stepping aside to let him in. “Good evening, Mr. Connelly. Fancy a bite? You might as well since you’re here.”

 

[BoneBrain]

She sent him away with a hoarse voice and a cocktail of fury and confusion. What had she meant by accusing him of the injury? Didn't she know that he would never raise a hand to anyone like that? He took no breaks on The Contessa, his well calloused hands rubbed raw from the ropes while his knuckles bore the marks of long hours spent with the sharp edges of the ships engine. All the while he stewed, wondering what it was about the woman that drove him to feel so deeply. The ground all but rumbled under his feet as he stepped back to the shore and he was too busy making his way to the car to notice the crew give one another questioning looks as if to ask, 'you felt that too?'

Saorise opened the door and Tristan took quick stock of the woman, making sure she hadn't done anything else to injure herself. The warm rich smells of her supper reached his nose and he couldn't help the deep inhale of its aroma. She invited him in and once he'd toed off his work boots he stepped into the rainbow wash dream that had become her home. He followed her towards the kitchen, silent as Saorise went to the stove to stir the stew. The rabbit hopped up next to him, a piece of it's suppertime meal still sticking out of its mouth. The rabbit's jaw worked in a circular motion as it chewed, it's dark eyes looking up at him as it did. Even when Tristan's stare turned into a glare the rabbit didn't look away. Tristan turned away from the piercing gaze and regarded the redhead in front of him.

He thought to demand answers from Saorise but that didn't seem to get him anywhere so instead of risking getting thrown out again without answers Tristan kept his mouth shut. Instead he went to gather plates and bowls for the meal and got to work placing them at the little table she'd bought. He would wait for her to fill the silence.

 

[Rainelle]

Sersh served the dinner in silence, and when she sat down to his expectant look, she sighed. "Seems like I'm supposed to go first, then." She motioned for him to eat as she began. "I don't like you, Mr. Connolly, because you have acted rude and wishy-washy towards me since we've met." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to protest, then began to tick down fingers as she listed off examples. "You invite yourself into my home and order me to allow you to care for a minor wound. No asking, No introductions. I consider that rude. Then, after we have what seemed to be a good day together at the garage sale you leave without explanation or goodbye and return to fix something I never asked you to look at. Doing all of these things FOR me, without even checking if I need help first is very rude, and is the same as treating me as someone who is incompetent. Had you asked, it would have been different. But you didn't. Do you understand why I would feel that way?" She took a deep breath before continuing. "As for last night; considering the way you treat me and the way you speak to me, I drew the conclusion that you did not like me. I never meant to bother or irritate you. My offer to ignore you was not meant as an insult. We both came here for a fresh start, right? Your words, however, seemed unnecessarily harsh and cruel to a woman you barely know and whose circumstances you are unaware of. I cried so hard I could barely see, and hit my head on the door frame trying to enter my home. That is what I meant by you injured me, Mr. Connolly."

Having finished her piece, she drank from her glass and brushed her hair away from her face. She began to eat her now cooling food as she waited for him to process and reply.

 

[BoneBrain]

He had asked her to lay it out for him, and while he'd expected to glean some understanding to the woman before him he didn't expect the words to hurt like they did. She ticked off his transgressions like it was a grocery list and each thing he'd done out of instinct was twisted and turned into something that no longer looked like the good deed he'd meant them to be. He didn't like being wrong, or being told that he'd made a mistake and so it took him long moment's to formulate any words. The deep shadows under his eyes darkened as he regarded the food in front of him. Finally he regarded the woman with a stern expression.

"You're right that I stormed through here and took liberties. It was never my intention to make you feel less than or incapable. You were hurt, and I knew where my first aid kit was- it was as simple as that in my head. I knew I could fix those chairs and so I did. Again, that's as far as my thinking went. I am sorry for how that all made you feel." His lips turned down with a frown and he pushed his stew away from him no longer hungry. "What you did today- when you told me that I was the one that hurt you and sent me away without any explanation as to why. You did that with the other incidents too, sending me away after calling me rude with no explanation." He ran a frustrated hand down his face, his next words rumbled out of him as he forced himself to temper his anger.

"To insinuate that I was the one that hurt you; like I would ever lay a fucking hand against you like that." His hand's curled into fists. "We both played a roll in how this played out and right now it just feels like you've put all the blame on me. I may not have asked permission to help but truly that is all I have been trying to do."

 

[Rainelle]

She listen to him and took a moment to absorb what he said. Putting down her spoon.

“ I realize I acted rudely as well, and I apologize. It’s a habit of mine to stop myself before I explode. I simply did not want to say things in anger that were unfair to you. I have quite a temper that has wounded people unintentionally before. And while I understand that you meant no harm—my life has been ruined by men that mean well. I had to leave everything I’ve ever known to move here in the middle of the night with nothing because of men who do whatever they want with good intentions, assuming it will improve my life, all without thinking of or asking me.” She looked away, tears beginning to sting behind her eyes. After she gathered herself, she looked back.

“I know you are a good man, Mr. Connolly. I had hoped we could be friends. But the way you act, however, has only caused me pain, just as the way I’ve acted has only caused you pain. I will not ask you to change yourself for me. We don’t know each other. That is entirely unreasonable. We can be cordial neighbors and nothing more, if you’d like. If you’ve re thought it and would prefer my previous offer, that’s fine too. I’ll abide by your wishes on this matter.”

 

[BoneBrain]

Tristan had never broken a bone in his life, but he imagined that it couldn't hurt more than knowing he'd been the cause of those tears glittering in Saorise's eyes. He left that night knowing one things for certain: he'd do his damnedest in making sure he was never the cause for her tears again. The days came and went without their meeting again and Tristan found he took comfort in seeing the attached house next to him slowly come to life and become a home. Mismatched pots lined the stairs, filled to the brim with flowers and tall green stocks of one herb or another. Occasionally he could hear the impatient thump of the rabbits foot through the walls and rather than being annoyed he smiled at knowing Saorise wasn't alone.

He went away for a week on The Contessa and the men hauled in a record breaking weight of fish that filled the hull of their ship. They had survived a small storm on the way back, and the rolling waves sent the men careening around the deck as they fought to tie down ropes and secure everything. A rough errant wave had swept Tristan off his feet and it had been Joseph that had caught him by the collar and hauled him up before Tristan could hit the rail hard. Naught ten minutes after that Tristan had done the same, catching the captain with his strong arm and hauling him back to rights. After that the two couldn't deny the soft bud of friendship that bloomed between them.

A month had passed since he first arrived to Hythe and Tristan shielded his eyes from the sun and regarded the lines before stepping off the boat with Joe.

"Do you intend to go to the Lughnasadh festival tomorrow?" The captain asked.

"Bless you." Tristan gave the man a stern look that the captain had come to learn was his playful face. Joe laughed before clapping Tristan on the back.

"It's just on main street, it's quite the spectacle. You should come, I could use some company... especially from Lizzy." The captain shuddered a bit at his own mention of the forceful elder. "One of the many celebrations of Lughnasadh is matchmaking and she's become quite determined to introduce me to every eligible woman on the island. Maybe she'll leave me alone when you turn your scary face upon her."

"She didn't seem all that scared of me when I met her." Tristan tucked his hands into his pockets as they walked from the docks over to the car park.

"I'll buy you a beer and some braided bread." Joe offered, his chocolate eyes twinkling.

"Alright." Tristan relented.

​