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Post by abs on Mar 16, 2011 22:10:46 GMT 10
Her shift had been over for a good hour and a half now but Abby wasn’t about to leave. It was a Monday night, so the pub was pretty dead bar a few of the regulars who mostly consisted of what Abigail liked to think of as ‘the old Irish ancestors’. Which was basically a handful of men over forty who had some Irish Heritage and chose to drink Kilkenny’s at The Blackwater Banshee three or more days a week. Abby liked these people though. They’d become just another part of her extended bar family. Like her uncle’s or grandfathers or something. And okay, so there was some flirting that went on. But for the only time in her life it was innocent. There was nothing sexual about the way she interacted with them. They called her pretty, she would laugh and call them a sweet talker, then they would ask Killian how long it was going to take him to realize how gorgeous she was and snap her up. Kill would make some quick witted remark and they’d all laugh again.
The thing she liked about these men though, was that the genuinely meant she was pretty. They weren’t saying it to get something out of her, or to get in her pants. And they didn’t see her in full heavy make-up and dressed to the nines and yet, they still thought she was pretty. It made Abby feel good. Fleetingly so, but still, warm feelings spread through her every time she was around these people. The blonde spent as much time as she could inside the Irish pub. Trying to retain as much as the happiness as possible, so she could work out how to feel this good any other time. It never worked though, but she still had to try. Abby was desperate to try. It was just, that happiness always seemed to be something that liked to allude Abigail. At times she thought she just wasn’t built for such things. The negative feelings kept their distance though here, and for that she was thankful.
Dressed really basically in jeans and a tank top, having changed from her work clothes, Abby sat cross-legged on a bar stool. Which wasn’t an easy balancing feet, let me tell you. The stool seat wasn’t quite enough space for sitting cross-legged. However Abby was committed to her choice in sitting position. Brushing her loose locks from her eyes, Abby gave the man sitting on the stool beside her a playful smirk, picking up the hand of cards she had only moments ago placed on the counter. They were playing go fish, of all things. The old man, who Abby had guessed was about sixty had told her his four year old grand-daughter had taught it to him yesterday, and she had beat him. Which had lead into some banter about who would win, then Abby had challenged him to a round. Who knew such a basic game of cards could be so much fun? Waving one of her cards casually, she asked if he had a two. The man smiled and shook his head, forcing Abby to pick up. Things continued for two more goes each, before Abby was forced to hand over the last card the man needed to win.
After a small amount of false pouting, Abby stood up and kissed his forehead, thanking him for the game and leaving him to his drink. Her lightly lined eyes roamed around the bar. Finding a few empty glasses scattered across tables. Without much of a thought, the blonde stood on her toes and reached over the bar to grab a cloth, spray and tray. If she was going to hang about, she may as well make herself useful. Moving to the first table, she cleared the glasses. Stacking them on her tray before spraying the surface so she could clean it with the cloth. It was actually kind of soothing. She couldn’t put her finger on it as to way. As she moved on to the next table, a familiar song flipped over on the jukebox. Grinning to herself, Abby started to sway. Forgetting to act Sauvé, she twirled around the table, collecting glasses along the way. Turning her cleaning ritual into a silly little dance routine. In that moment she wasn’t dancing to impress anyone, she wasn’t on show. She was just dancing for herself. In that moment, she was happy.
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Post by KILLIAN LIAM REAGAN on Apr 29, 2011 8:27:51 GMT 10
Today hadn't been a particularly long shift, but just a rather strenuous one. Monday's were the day that his father chose to take for leisure which meant the bar was now in Killian's more then capable (but rather stressed out) hands. It first started this morning during opening when the register made the belligerent decision that it didn't want to power up. He plugged and unplugged. Started it, restarted it, and started it again before taking the classic alpha male route of punching the system repeatedly with a balled fist for results. Not five minutes after, the POS system decided to go down and the same route of recovery was taken - punching the point of sale screen until it flickered some life. They were low on Guinness, had thirty eight dollars missing from the register after the last night shift, and the kitchen staff hadn't even begun prep cooking as their first patrons of the bar began to filter in. To say the least, Killian's good mood was flat-lining.
As the day progressed, he attempted to resuscitate it by taking small sabbaticals to the cellar. The silence was calming and the lingering scent of aged brew reminded him of his childhood. Taking a deep breath and flipping on the light, a small smile flickered on his lips. He remembered when his father first purchased the establishment, Killian moving slowly with an open palm to feel the thicker, muskier air. As a child, it was common knowledge that the basement of the Banshee was completely haunted. It was an older building, it was located in America (where all horror films took place that he was allowed to see at age eight), the light flickered the first time he turned it on and there was a cement basement with no windows. His logic was flawless. Now at age 23, the Irish man let out an amused laugh as he nestled himself down between two large untapped barrels of their home fired brandy away from the hectic bustle upstairs. Who would have thought that the one place of the pub that gave him nightmares as a child was now his only place of refuge?
As the dinner rush swept in and out, the man found himself trekking up and down the stairs to the point of exhaustion - the warm, musty air starting to lose it's therapeutic appeal with the repeat of every familiar creek from the floor boards. It was around his twelfth trip back from the cellar that he had given up on it, trudging up the stairs for what was hopefully the last time that night and into the back room of the bar. Time had escaped him and it was late now. The kitchen was moving at a crawl and the lights looked dim through the pain of glass on the door. His stomach knotted - every thing ran smoothly, right? There was enough hands on bored he had made sure of it and at this time of the night it should have been only the kindred spirited regulars left. Collecting himself with a short sigh and a quick run of his fingers through his hair, Killian swung open the heavy stained wood door to the bar, peered around and inspected the damage.
There were no riots. The place hadn't burned down. The regulars smiled at him. "Are You In?" by Incubus was playing. Abby was dancing.
Just like that, his day had gotten astronomically better - his blue eyes following the beautiful blond woman on her round of the bar. Through all the stress, he had nearly forgotten that she was working today; a feet that even he, himself, was dumbfounded by. She was, after all, one of his best friends and generally speaking, if there was a person that knew him well enough to fix a shitty day - it was her. A large involuntary smile formed on his lips as he watched her, her playful swaying seeming so natural and heartfelt in comparison to her movements on those nights they went to the club. There was something so free about it and enlightening, and after a small debate with himself, Killian found himself bypassing the bar entirely to accompany her. Sliding over to stand behind her, he rested one hand on her waist, slipping the other arm past her to grab the glasses from her grasp. Playfully kissing her cheek, he swayed in time with her, softly singing the lyrics as if asking, "It's so much better, when every one is in. Are you in, Abby?"
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Post by abs on May 8, 2011 18:23:11 GMT 10
Feeling Killian behind her, Abby smiled. Life was never horrible when she could feel the warmth of Killian’s body against her own. It didn’t matter how she was feeling or what her mood was like, it was always instantly lifted when she was in Killian’s arms. He was a soothing presence in her life, and while she hated to admit she needed anyone, she felt like she needed Killian in her life. Without him there was no light, no end to the gut twisting anguish she felt. No one in the world that she could rely on- that truly understood her. Of course, the relief he brought her wasn’t permanent. At times it was fleeting, other times it lasted for days. It all depended really. On how much time they spent together, what they did, and how much Zee was mentioned. In fact Killian’s sometime girlfriend was always a mood deflater. Sour feelings twisted in her chest every time Kill brought up the cow. Those feelings were worse when she had to see the girl. The blonde just couldn’t handle the fact that Killian seemed to need more than just Abby, while Abby only needed him. It just didn’t seem fair.
In that moment though, Abby didn’t give a shit about Mackenzie. Instead she grinned, leaning back into the young man. It wasn’t a conventional hug, but when had these two ever been conventional? Abigail liked that they did things differently. She’d always been the sort to follow her own path, and having the company along the way was appreciated. Killian didn’t always agree with her path, which was fine. Who was she to expect anyone to follow a path that wasn’t there own? Their path’s just happened to meet along the way most of the time. Standing there like that, Abigail felt a strong serge of emotions run through her. She was suddenly so thankful she had him in her life. The girl wasn’t a huge fan of the mushy stuff. Meaningless affection and sex was one thing, but she had never been amazing at actual human feelings. It was a little over-whelming to be honest, and she wanted to turn around and bury her face into his chest, breath in his scent, and just cry. However that wasn’t an option. There was no way she was showing that much emotion in front of so many people. It was one impulse she was going to ignore.
Without even thinking about it, she let him take the glasses from her. Following his move, she put down the rag so both her hands were free and she could focus on the moment between them. A small shiver ran down Abby’s spine as she heard his soft voice close to her ear. God, why did he have to do stuff like that? Drive her so crazy. It really wasn’t fair, yet at the same time she wouldn’t want it any other way. When Killian was sending shivers down her spine, or tugging at her heart strings, she knew she was alive. That she was still feeling. Without that, she’d probably give into the black hole of apathy that so often threatened to engulf her. She’d feel lost in the blackness with no real reason to fight her way back to life. She held on for Killian. For these moments. For the healing that even his name promised her. It was pathetic, and he wasn’t even hers, but that was the way it was and there wasn’t anything she could do to change what he meant to her. She would barely admit it, but she knew it was just how it was.
Smirking, she turned to face the man. Slipping her arms around his neck. Leaning in close, she made that she was about to kiss him. However at the last moment she changed directions and let her lips brush against his ear. “How many times have I told you, I’m in for anything except a threesome with your girlfriend, I don’t want to get crabs or anything.” Grinning, she pulled away enough to throw him a smirk. She knew that probably wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, but the emotions she was feeling had scared Abby, and she was in a good mood. She couldn’t let a real moment ruin that. For anyone else, a real moment would make things better, but for Abby, feelings always just ended up uncomfortable and stressed her out. She couldn’t go there with him, because she couldn’t trust herself not to tell him that she needed him, which would lead to a fight. It always ended in a fight when they started to uncover what they truly meant to each other. And it was usually Abigail’s doing.
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Post by KILLIAN LIAM REAGAN on May 13, 2011 16:50:51 GMT 10
"Hey now," It would have been hard for him to muster up the courage to speak the two words if he hadn't built up such a tolerance over the years to the kind of girl Abby was. She was his best friend after all, and over the many days and nights spent in the arms of such a beautiful woman, one came to learn what sort of reactions you could expect from her. She was selfish, ill intentioned, and enjoyed the kind of power that came along with cutting a man down via verbal assault. Killian knew this was all due to her dangerously low self esteem issues, romance issues and family issues but -- hey, would he ever say it out loud? Letting his hands slide along her side due to her new position facing him, the man pulled her a little closer and enjoyed the sensation that came along with holding the beautiful blonde so close to his tattooed body. "I never said a thing about my exgirlfriend," he spoke lowly, yet in a jovial tone, smiling as he allowed his lips to rest a little too comfortably close to her own, "You shouldn't either."
It would be a lie to say that he didn't enjoy being in the company of Abby more then Zee. In fact, it would be a lie if he said that he didn't enjoy having his lips teeter over Abby's skin with his arms laced around her delicate body, more then he did with Zee. Instead of realizing the obvious, Killian did the usual though: he chalked it up to comfort. Zee was comfortable. She was his first serious girlfriend, his first serious heart break and one couldn't blame the man for being a creature of habit. They had been on and off for round about two years now. Or three years? Maybe three. It didn't matter. After all the times he had watched her leave, he had grown pretty numb to all of the apparent "heart break" that came along with "losing the one you love" or how ever the saying went. It was just a vicious cycle when it came to the lovers (if one could even call them that) that seemed to never come to a halt. Because, well, there really wasn't a reason for it to, now was there?
Unless...well? No.
Softly, Killian brought his lips to the corner of Abby's mouth, kissing it softly to feel the muscles on her face form into a smile. The lingering feeling of her breath on his lips made his finger tips dig softly into her back before he pulled away, . As close as the pair of them were, there were boundaries...and allowing himself to savor the sensation of her skin was one of them. If any ounce of passion or romance was seeped out in her midst, it was shut down. Immediately. And responded with some vitriolic response. Abby Stone just wasn't a squishy girl -- or more accurately, she just wasn't ready to be and the Irish man had accepted that. Or at least, tried his best to come to terms with. It was hard to respect it on the nights that they'd fall asleep together completely naked after a night of passionate sex, while her head laid on his chest. All he could think about was running his fingers through her hair and allowing his fingertips to trace her silhouette, trying to figure out why her skin always felt so familiar, yet new and exciting at the same time.
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Post by abs on May 14, 2011 20:58:56 GMT 10
Abby could get used to that. Zee not being apart of their lives. In fact she would be perfectly content if she never had to deal with his ex girlfriend again. Abigail despised Mackenzie as a person, and her relationship with Killian even more so. However, the young woman tried not to get her hopes up too high. She was well aware of the on again off again nature of the relationship, and she could only just hope that each time they were off that it would stick. It never did though. For whatever reason he always ended up back in Zee’s arms. A better friend, or maybe just a different friend, would have supported the relationship even if they didn’t agree with it. Abigail didn’t even try though. Hell she didn’t even pretend to try. The blonde made no attempt to hide her disgust every time she saw them even remotely intimate. Just as she allowed every snide remark she pleased pass her lips. It didn’t exactly make anything easier between the girls, but Abby wasn’t about making life easier for anyone. “I’m okay with that..” She murmured softly, feeling herself smile at the idea of having the boy all to herself.
It wasn’t about winning though. Yeah, she acted like it was just about that- but that was just the front she needed to show. Or there would be questions. Questions about why she cared so much. Questions she would refuse to answer as long as she needed. One day maybe she’d start to look at herself, into her soul, and realise exactly what hold Killian had over her. Until that moment though, she could just go on acting as though it was about possession. He was hers and she didn’t like to share. Other men, sure. She didn’t give a shit about that. In fact, if a guy even smelt like he’d get even just the slightest bit attached to her she’d be gone in an instant. However Killian was something else. He was everything and she needed so much of him that if she let anyone else have even just a small part of him, there wouldn’t be enough, and she wouldn’t be able to breathe. The only person she conceded to share him with was Cassidy, because Abigail would have done anything to have family like the Reagan’s. To know that the people who were supposed to always be there actually were there. She wouldn’t take that away from Cass, there was no way.
The kiss to the corner of her lips worked in tugging her features up into a smile. However it did other things too. A shiver ran down her spine, and her hands shook a little. The blonde was glad he pulled away. It was funny, but almost kissing Killian seemed so much more intimate than actually kissing him ever was. It wasn’t a sensation she could explain at all. It was just the way it was. Looking up into his eyes, she felt her heart give a lurch. Did he know what power he had over her? How was it that the only person could hold her together, was also the one person that could tear her a part? If that was what love was- if that was what it meant to give your heart to someone else.. Well Abigail wasn’t sure she wanted anyone to have her heart. She wanted to ask for it back. Only she wasn’t sure she even remembered handing it over. He had asked her if she was in. It was sweet, and playful. However the answer was yes. Deeply and emphatically yes. She was in love with him. She was in over her head. She was just in.
“I’m in.”
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