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Post by EZRA Q. on Sept 11, 2013 10:17:04 GMT -6
Primula was the exact same way it was as when he left it, just as he had expected... but everything felt foreign. The air was light and clean on his tongue, not like the mechanical smog of the city. There were dirt roads that made your shoes dirty, and the distant sound of mooing, always mooing; never the sound of motors or loud street chatter.
He slept better at night now. Ezra painted just as much as always, but his colors shifted from steel blues and gray from yellow and orange. He felt different, but happy. Primula was where he was born and raised. The city has always been just a temptation.
Plus, the freshness was a lot better on his asthma.
It was still early in the morning - well, early for him, not so much the farmers that woke up at the crack of dawn. After he fixed his bedhead and got into some clothes, he tiredly descended the stairs and stumbled into the dining area. Ezra bowed his head to rub his eyes and by the time he looked back up, a young waitress had put down a mug of coffee for him.
"Thank you," he mumbled, doing his best to give her a smile that didn't seem too tired. She seemed to understand and smiled back at him, readying her pen and pad wordlessly as if to give him the signal to start talking.
Eggs over easy with bacon was his favorite since he was a kid. He listed it off like he had done it pretty much every morning of his whole life, and the waitress scurried away. Ezra put his elbow up onto the table, his face in one hand while the other held his coffee mug. He took a sip, sighed appreciately, and waited for his food. CODED BY ELECTRIC [newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar]width:15px; background-color:#f5f5f5;[/newclass][newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#f5f5f5;border-right:1px solid #aaaaaa; [/newclass] |
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Post by ISOLDE N. on Sept 11, 2013 11:34:20 GMT -6
Isolde had always been a firm believer in fate, destiny and karma. It was something her grandfather thought was true, so he in turn passed the belief down to his granddaughter. And it rang true in many aspects of her life. When she was younger, a boy had teased her once, badly enough to make her cry. A few years later he became a student and her grandfather's dojo and she beat him in fight after fight despite the fact that she was a petite girl. One time when she was young, a pet bird she had ended up escaping out the window, only for Isolde to find the poor creature wounded outside her bedroom window a few weeks later. She had come to Primula just days ago, in search of a man she had met in the city. It was imperative that she find him, and this town wasn't very big, so it shouldn't be very hard. But the blonde never expected it to be this easy either. Walking down the stairs one morning, body covered by just a thin nightgown and a silk robe — an expensive gift from her grandfather and one of the nicest things she owned — Isolde had yet another run in with Fate, her old friend. And it came to her in the form of a distinctly familiar blonde man sitting at a table across the room. Eyes narrowed and she marched over, not sure what had taken over her body (as she never acted so abruptly), and slammed her hands down on his table despite how sleepy he looked. She didn't care. There was business to be taken care of. "You," she said, the words hissing through her lips. "I've finally caught up to you." It was a bit dramatic, yes, as she hadn't been chasing him, really, and it wasn't very difficult or arduous to find him. But Isolde couldn't help it, the words tumbled out and they sounded good, so she just went with it. "Recognize me?"
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Post by EZRA Q. on Sept 11, 2013 12:01:35 GMT -6
The dining area was so quiet except for the soft clatter of dishes, his face in his hand felt so comfortable, and the mug was so warm against his skin... Would it be so bad to doze off for just a second while he waited for his food? His eyes slipped closed and he allowed himself a moment of just listening.
Until something hit his table and the whole thing rocked, the coffee in the mug spilling over from the force and burning his hand. "Ah!" he yelped, sitting up straight in shock. That's when he noticed it wasn't something that hit his table, it was someone, and man did she look pissed.
He looked up at her, bewildered and a little angry himself. "What the hell?" he asked. What did she mean, she finally caught up to him? What could some crazy woman in a silk robe want with him? He only just showed up in Primula!
Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. The straight, blonde hair, the pretty face and dainty body but the hardness in her eyes... This was the woman that he painted just before he left the city, and, uh, slept with as well.
"Oh," he said slowly, blinking away the haze. Ezra grabbed a fistful of napkins off the table and began to mop off the puddle of coffee on the table and on the (now red) burn mar on his arm.
"You're the woman from the city," Ezra acknowledged, giving her a soft smile despite the circumstances. "What do you mean you've been looking for me?" CODED BY ELECTRIC [newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar]width:15px; background-color:#f5f5f5;[/newclass][newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#f5f5f5;border-right:1px solid #aaaaaa; [/newclass] |
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Post by ISOLDE N. on Sept 11, 2013 12:33:14 GMT -6
Thankfully he hadn't forgotten her completely. That would have been just a little hurtful, even though she definitely didn't care what he thought of her. They had spent a rather, well, enjoyable day and night together, if she was going to be honest. And she wouldn't have minded just never having to see him again, but their hasty stupidity apparently had to get in the way of that. Karma striking yet again. Why was he smiling at her like that? He was soft and gentle, in great contrast to her coldness and sharpness. And the subject she had to talk to him about...it wasn't cold or sharp at all. Pregnancy was a motherly, warm topic, and those were two adjectives that would be impossible to describe Isolde. Sitting down at the table, not bothering to help him clean up the spilled coffee and not seeming to care about the burn on his arm. How was she going to even begin to explain? The woman had never been very good with words in the fact that she usually just spit things out at people, not caring that some information needed a softer, less shocking introduction. But Isolde just couldn't do that. What was she supposed to say? It would be like a bandaid. She would tell him and then say that he had to help out or he was going to be in big trouble. She'd get the law involved if she had to! Was that too crazy? She was turning into one of those crazy women, wasn't she? But was it really that preposterous to expect the man that fathered the kid to at least take some kind of responsibility? Why was she overthinking this?"Well, listen," she said, trying to just get this over with. "I'm glad you remember me because that just means it's less that I have to explain." It was true, it would be awkward trying to tell him that they had spent a night together, not that long ago either. "I was looking for you because I have to tell you something. Something...kind of..." Hell, she couldn't do this. She had never been good at being tactful. "I'm pregnant. And it's yours. Trust me, I know that for a fact."
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Post by EZRA Q. on Sept 11, 2013 13:21:04 GMT -6
Ezra watched her sit across the table from him and he couldn't help but notice she looked a little off. How is it that she could feel nervous when she was the one banging on tables and spilling coffee? Her face looked just as hardened as it had back when he first saw her on the street, but he felt something in her eyes. Call it an artist's sense, but something was going on with this woman and Ezra could tell.
"Of course I remember you," he laughed, shaking his head. Really, it wasn't that long ago. What sort of guy did this woman think Ezra was? Sure, maybe he seemed like some dude that went around saying he wanted to paint pretty girls under the guise of sleeping with them... that would make sense, all things considered, but Ezra wasn't like that. What happened between them was spontaneous and new.
Ezra didn't think he could forget a face like her's anyway.
What Isolde said next nearly knocked the wind out of him. Pregnant? Had he heard that right? He felt the color drain from his face and was suddenly so aware of where he was and everyone around him. The sound of forks scraping plates was so loud, his eardrums were vibrating. "Wh-what?" Ezra croaked, throat dry. No, she couldn't have just said pregnant. He had heard wrong, surely! She must have came all the way out to Primula to talk to him about something else.
"Did you just say..." he dropped his voice and said the next word in a whisper, "pregnant?" Suddenly the waitress came out of nowhere and slid Ezra's plate onto the table. She seemed shocked to see that someone else had joined the table, but it seemed she was too shy to inquire about it and simply left with a dainty bow of her head.
Unfortunately, Ezra felt rather put off from his food now. "You're positive?" CODED BY ELECTRIC [newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar]width:15px; background-color:#f5f5f5;[/newclass][newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#f5f5f5;border-right:1px solid #aaaaaa; [/newclass] |
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Post by ISOLDE N. on Sept 13, 2013 21:16:51 GMT -6
She felt a little bad when she saw how he reacted to the news. But how was he supposed to react? It was a shocking and life changing — or ruining, depending on your perspective — thing. But Isolde wasn't about to admit that she was afraid. "Yes, I'm positive," she sighed. This was something else she didn't want to admit, because everyone seemed to take it so badly...the reason why she was positive. Ezra had been the first man she had ever been with, so it would've been very impossible for it to be anyone else's. People always got so defensive over virginity and it just wasn't a concept she believed in. "Trust me. I just know," she sighed, rubbing her hands together a little bit, adjusting her robe. In the flurry of movement in which she rushed to his table and slammed her hands down on the table, the silk garment had grown loose. It wasn't like she was unclothed underneath the robe, but they were in a slightly public area. Examining her nails a little she glanced back up at him, sighing. "I know I just kind of threw this at you but the reason I'm telling you is because...I'm going to keep it. And I want some help. And IK figured, you know...since you're the father, it's kind of your responsibility." She fell silent, waiting to hear what he had to say.
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Post by EZRA Q. on Sept 14, 2013 12:52:11 GMT -6
He had heard of this kind of thing happening to people. It always just took one time and they had a baby on the way... except this wasn't a book or a film. This was real. Life truly did imitate art.
Her confidence in that it was undeniably Ezra's child made him a bit nervous. People in the city treated sex a little bit differently than in Primula, at least if the stereotypes held true. With the party scene, people could have multiple sex partners... Isolde didn't seem that way, and her answer backed that up, but it made him wonder... Had she not had sex in awhile, or was Ezra the first? He couldn't just ask her outright -- he barely knew this woman.
He barely knew the woman that was pleading no contest to carrying his child. What a mess.
Ezra was quiet for what felt like a long time. He placed his face in his hands and rubbed at it, a slow, audible sigh escaping his lungs. He felt something heavy in his chest, as if he had swallowed a ball of metal. Was it guilt? Uncertainty? Nervousness? All three?
"There's no way to not throw this at someone, I think," Ezra finally said, dropping his hands into his lap and looking back at Isolde. His words had no malice and he certainly didn't appear angry. In fact, maybe his eyes were even a bit watery. Maybe.
"Do you want to go to my room?" he said all of a sudden. Ezra hadn't even touched his food, but how could someone be thinking of food in a situation like this? "It's probably better to talk there. Quieter." A pause. "More private."
If she wanted to keep it and she wanted Ezra's help, well, that's what she was going to get. Isolde was right, he did have a responsiblity. There was a lot of talking that needed to be done; a lot of planning. CODED BY ELECTRIC [newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar]width:15px; background-color:#f5f5f5;[/newclass][newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#f5f5f5;border-right:1px solid #aaaaaa; [/newclass] |
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Post by ISOLDE N. on Sept 14, 2013 16:17:18 GMT -6
He was being very quiet, but that was to be expected she supposed. Isolde remembered the first few days after she had found out she was pregnant. She had sat in complete silence, just thinking about how different everything was going to be. But a more mature side of her acted up at that moment and she accepted it. She kind of had to, since the thing was growing inside of her body. It was still so strange, considering no one could really tell yet. Her stomach was still relatively flat and nothing had really changed; none of the typical pregnancy symptoms had really kicked in yet. When he finally mentioned that they should go somewhere private, she nodded. A snarkier side of her brain wanted to point out that the last time they had gone to the privacy of his room together, that's what had gotten them into this whole mess. But she simply stayed quiet and followed him up the steps to the rooms, going down the hall until he turned into one of the rooms. Once the door was shut, she looked around a bit. It looked pretty similar to her room but with all of his belongings and art supplies. There was a faint smell of paint and turpentine in the air and it made her stomach flop a little bit; thankfully she hadn't eaten anything today yet. "Well, one thing I always wanted to know..." she started off, her voice quiet yet firm. "What is your name?" It seemed strange or even loose that she had slept with him without knowing his name, but it hadn't been important at the time. She thought she'd never see him again. Oh, how things can change.
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Post by EZRA Q. on Sept 16, 2013 20:54:01 GMT -6
Once the door was closed behind the both of them, Ezra headed to a small table covered in brushes that was pushed against a wall and sat down. He took a similar stance as he had when they were seated in the dning area: his elbows on the table and slouching slightly.
His room was so much messier than he thought he had left it. There was an easel still out smack dab in the middle of the room and the canvas was still wet with paint, which filled the room with a heady acrylic smell. It was enough to give someone a migraine, probably. "Sorry for the mess," he said, a small laugh in his voice as if he was trying to depricate himself with the statement.
Ezra had absolutely no idea where to begin. His mind was essentially blank after deciding it was best that they speak more privately. Thankfully though, Isolde seemed to steer them right back into conversation.
The notion that they even had to exchange names made Ezra laugh -- not even the soft, airy kind, but an actual laugh. He didn't mean to come off as rude, but it was just so awful that they were having a child together but had no idea who the other was that he just had to laugh. Ezra quickly became a bit embarrassed though, his fingers coming up to play with the hair around his ear.
"Ezra," he said finally, making eye contact. "Ezra Quinn. What's yours?" His mind reeled with what her name could be. Was it something simple like Mary? Exotic like Ambrosia? He couldn't help but stare at her intently as he waited for the answer, his lips parting slightly in wonder. The moment felt to weighted, so much heavier than the thick feeling in his chest from before.
With every word of the conversation, every bit of information exchanged, the situation became more and more real. No waking up from nightmares here. CODED BY ELECTRIC [newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar]width:15px; background-color:#f5f5f5;[/newclass][newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#f5f5f5;border-right:1px solid #aaaaaa; [/newclass] |
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Post by ISOLDE N. on Sept 22, 2013 21:25:52 GMT -6
Ezra Quinn. It wasn't an extremely exotic name, but it wasn't common either. It would have to do; after all, it wasn't something that could be changed. Would the baby take her last name or his last name? That was something she'd have to think about. Maybe it could be hyphenated. Nero-Quinn. Or Quinn-Nero. Decisions were difficult right now and she didn't want to think about that. For some reason he was laughing. She raised an eyebrow, wondering what on earth was so funny. Nothing about this situation was humorous, at least to her. It was a little sad and very...weird. She was going to be a mother. Isolde had never expected anything like this to happen to her, not for a long while. She looked up again when he asked her what her name was, snapping out of whatever trance she was in. "Oh...Isolde Nero," she said, spitting out her name on cue. Her name wasn't anything special, she supposed it was somewhat like his. Not completely strange or normal.
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Post by EZRA Q. on Oct 9, 2013 7:57:09 GMT -6
For some reason, her name made Ezra's lips split into a wide, warm smile. So it wasn't anything boring like Mary or out of this world like Ambrosia. It was a name like his - a middle sort of name, not too hot and not too cold, like the porridge in that childrens' story.
Would Ezra read stories about porridge to their baby? Their baby. Right now it sort of felt more like his baby. The sense of "us" was something that lacked at the moment. Isolde felt like such a separate being, an alien in his life. He had felt the warmth of her skin and the softness of her voice in the most intimate of ways, but Ezra had no clue what the little things about her was. He needed to learn everything there was about her so he could feel as if they were a unit... as if they were parents to the same child.
"I like that name," he said finally, clearly a bit embarrassed by his sudden silence. Was she conscious of the fact that Ezra was so engrossed in just looking at her? Did she perceive this as shock, as fear, or as distaste?
Ezra didn't feel afraid. Perhaps it really was shock itself that prevented such an emotion, like when something tragic happens and you just can't quite believe it yet; like losing your parents.
His parents would never meet this child, or any child he had after it.
Mouth suddenly a bit dry, Ezra blinked hard and turned his head to look at the chair across the table from him.
"Will you sit down? Your feet must be tired from standing," he suggested. Not to mention that her looming there in the middle of the room made him kind of nervous. Isolde had intimidating eyes if he ever saw any.
Knotting his hands together on his lap, he wringed his fingers together as if trying to get words to drip out and help him. "Where are you going to be staying?" Ezra asked, "do you have family here? Or will you stay at the inn?"
Ezra didn't quite understand why, but he wanted the answer to be wherever was closest to him. What if she needed something that he could give her? How could he learn things about her if she stayed far away? Would he never know what Isolde truly thought of him if they couldn't see each other every day? CODED BY ELECTRIC [newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar]width:15px; background-color:#f5f5f5;[/newclass][newclass=.mover ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color:#f5f5f5;border-right:1px solid #aaaaaa; [/newclass] |
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Post by ISOLDE N. on Oct 16, 2013 9:06:49 GMT -6
Isolde was lost in her own thoughts for a while until she realized that he was staringat her. What was he looking at? Feeling a bit strange and alienated for the first time today, she shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Making the woman feel uncomfortable was a difficult feat to do as she normally exuded self-confidence. But this was a different matter entirely. "Oh, thank you," she said when he offered a seat, sitting down. Her feet were doing just fine but she didn't have the heart to say no. Something about this man was just...she couldn't describe it. Maybe it was the connection she felt to him - not necessarily a romantic connection, but the connection that the child they created brought to her. He looked a bit preoccupied in his thoughts and glanced away for a few moments, so Isolde sat there in silence until he finally spoke again. She knew how annoying it was to be badgered when she was thinking, so she didn't want to do the same to him. She wondered what he was thinking so hard about, however. "Oh. I'm staying in the inn," she confirmed, nodding her head. "I don't have a house or anything like that since I just came here to find you. I'm assuming you're in the same situation, with no house?" She did find him in the inn after all, preparing to eat breakfast. He could have just come in for the restaurant but she assumed he wouldn't have been dressed in such casual morning clothes if that was the case.
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