This still all felt strangely unreal. He hadn’t expected to run into Juniper at Winnie’s - after all the time he had spent there, he hadn’t once seen Juniper there. Maybe the first few times Kieran had gone over he had thought maybe
he’d see her - maybe he’d catch a glimpse of his angel.
So running into her in the driveway was not something he had thought would happen. Her inviting him to lunch at her house….
Well, he just never thought he’d live to the day where Juniper
Vickers Fitzpatrick wanted anything to do with him in a more public setting. Private, yes, since it was her home - but people would see him enter, see him spend time there, see him leave. Not that he’d complain for a second.
Anything to spend time with her.
Kieran took his time in arriving, though, enjoying one last cigarette before entering. She hated them - he remembered that much. Plus, the kid being around wouldn’t help. More of a reason for him to be on his best behavior - no cigarettes, no pills, no alcohol.
He had cleaned up - a little. Still in his old leather jacket and jeans, but a fresh shower before leaving with even a quick shave. Nothing spectacular. Just his attempts at trying to be what she wanted - of trying to fit in with her life, even slightly.
He hit the doorbell, trying not to look too weird in the way he lingered outside the door. Hands in the pockets of his jacket, back slightly turned away from the door as he glanced around the street. Empty. All the houses like little cookie cutter perfection. Perfect suburbia. He really didn’t belong.
Even if he had been raised in such a place, too.
But then she opened the door and he lost his train of thought. Even after all of these years, she was just as breathtaking as the first time he saw her; only more matured. Sophisticated. Like she had grown into the woman she had acted like all those years ago. And he hated how much he loved it.
His fingers itched for another cigarette -- to roll it between his thumb and index as something to do, something to keep himself grounded - a reminder that he was lesser. That he did not deserve this type of lifestyle. That even if she had invited him, he would inevitably ruin it because of who he was.
When his face caught a glimpse of the red on her wrists, he raised an eyebrow. He knew it wasn’t blood - been around enough in his lifetime to know that the liquid staining her hands was too thin, too bright. Still an interesting site, though. The perfect suburban wife stained with red.
A glimpse into their shared shady past.
A reminder of Philip.
“Hope that’s not a problem,” he replied, his voice still scratchy from that last cigarette. Entering the town home, he tried to ignore how out of place he felt amongst the bright, light colors. He was the dark stain - with his black jacket and dark demeanor."Nice place," his attempt at manners, despite the overwhelming reminders that he didn't belong. That he would never belong.
Even if Winnie’s place were similarly furnished, he could blend in with her mess and the bottles and other discarded elements of her party life. This… was too clean, too spotless, too perfect. Her mask in house form. “Where’s the kid?” He could care less than to ask about her idiot husband - the fucking douchebag could be rotting underground and Kieran wouldn’t bat an eye. But he would at least try to show some sort of attentiveness to her life, to their child -- not because he cared, but because he knew she did.
And he didn’t want to mess anything up, especially if an innocent little kid was involved.
TAG @JUNIPER FITZPATRICK