willow would love to chalk the hostility up to whatever had led penny to the bar, alone, as ruffled as she is, but there is a personal venom laced in those words. a special dose of hostility saved just for her. it's surprising, the force of it, as willow can't remember actively saying or doing anything around penelope that warranted this. 

but it's so unsuspected that she can't even be affronted by it. when the drink is ordered for her, her lips tilt in a half grimace. she doesn't think explaining that she's not drinking at a bar would be the wisest thing to do in the face of this maelstrom of a woman so she takes it gently, thanking the bartender with a warm smile. 

"thanks," she says and realizes that, well, now she can't walk away. she stares down at the drink and thinks that maybe some liquid courage might be helpful here. 

"i'm a designated driver tonight, but i guess one drink won't hurt." she shifts. 

"i'm sorry you had a bad day." it's a lame attempt and try as she might, she can't sound as sincere as she might have were she talking to ollie. 

PENELOPE LIVY

☉

her eyes soften. "aw, she doesn't hate you. no one could hate you." she's convinced it would be physically impossible to feel that way about ollie, personal bias aside. he's kind and caring and giving and bright and selfless and loyal and the list goes on and on. even if she doesn't know the specifics, she's sure he couldn't have done something that bad to her to make her feel this way. 

she reaches a hand up and cups his cheek. thumbs his jaw. makes him look at her, really look at her, because this is important. 

"time heals all wounds. it really does. those feelings you had for each other, you never really lose them. life gets hard. things can get in the way. but they're just things and they can't change the way you felt then. so just give it time. give her time. and remind her that you cared, and that you still care, about her.

and i promise you - eventually, it'll be okay again."

ollie morales

☉

oh, how she's missed their over-the-top dramatics. but she always gives in too easy and doesn't give ollie much wiggle room to complain, which really is a shame. so she's just left shaking her head with pursed lips while she fiddles with the car's stereo system. grace apparently has a couple of cds in the car. 

soft piano and softer violin rumbles through the cabin and willow lowers it down to a nice enough volume so they can still chat. 

she's about to answer his question when he follows with another - that one makes her blush. the other makes her indignant. 

she shoots a look at ollie, nearly missing the fact that the light in front of them had turned red. so she steps a little too rough on the brakes and jars the both of them. the car groans as its gears complain. 

"it's my house, ollie," she says with a little bit more bite than probably necessary. "and regardless, i don't care if they mind. i'm not letting you go home like this."

ollie morales

☉

and now she gets an eyeful of someone who, unfortunately, does not like her very much. surprise makes willow's sip into a loud slurping noise and she grimaces, setting the glass of ginger ale down onto the bar. it doesn't help that penelope looks like actual shit. 

exhaustion drags at her face; disheveled clothes make odd angles, scrunching where they shouldn't. feeling embarrassed, realizing she's just staring, she looks her in the eye with regard. 

"yeah. penny? hi. uh, rough day?" she asks, by way of conversation, and immediately wants to kick herself. 

PENELOPE LIVY

☉

damn it. damn it. as much as he tries to hide it, he can't. she's staring straight at him and even though there are empty years between them, he's as familiar as the day he left. her heart gives a painful squeeze and she bites her lip and then he apologizes. 

"it's not you. it's not that," she says softly. and then, mustering some ounce of courage, she adds, "he's a good man and i want to do this right. i just - we can't. i want to, but we can't." at some small ounce of a confession, she looks away.

she's always been able to trust herself - to trust her decisions. every step she's made has been one of conviction - it had to be. but this? more words sit in the back of her throat, bubble onto her tongue, but she can't say it all.

"stay safe, okay?"

boruta maher

☉

unfortunately enough for the two hotheads, willow opts to turn her attention back to ollie. because she's having a nice time and she's sure she's reading the signs wrong. so she takes the opportunity to sway in ollie's arms, to turn him so they move to the center of the dance floor. back into their own little bubble. 

the topic shifts to something arguably more bitter and her awkward nervousness shows as much in the furrowed brows, the jut of her lip. she gives ollie another squeeze and gives a cursory glance around, but can't spot the mentioned councilwoman. 

"yeah?" she says cautiously. ollie hadn't told her much when they'd broken up, but the entire situation had been a bit of a sideways mess. and willow always had the strangest feeling PENELOPE LIVY didn't particularly like her. 

not that willow ever had the heart to say that to ollie. 

"how are you doing? are you...talking again?"

ollie morales

☉

the bewear could probably squish her and she's extra grateful lance takes the burden of it because there's no way in hell she's lugging that thing around the whole night. 

"i don't know, lance," she says with a grin, standing up on her toes so he can kiss her cheek, "with your skill, we might need to rent a truck to get this back to my place."

which makes her think about the fact that they haven't talked about tonight. he hasn't stayed over hers yet, nor she his, but they're in his city and it's already mid-afternoon and adelaide did tell her she could stay until the morning.

first, before all that, plushies!

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

and it's so, so easy to lose herself in this. to bundle herself up in nostalgia and call it comfort, to think it home. just thinking about the pizza makes her mouth water. maybe it's not as good as she's remembering - after all, she hasn't had the stuff since she was seventeen. maybe it'll be like their coffee shop date all over again.

guilt curdles in her stomach. lance had been so apologetic over having to cancel. and she's sure she'll find flowers on her doorstep within the next couple of days. purple hyacinths, more than likely, wrapped in a silk bow. 

she stands suddenly and then shifts her weight. "actually, bo... i think i should go."

boruta maher

☉

she's a certifiably horrible dd. somewhere along the way of the bar crawl, she's lost ollie morales . he thought a night out might be nice and she'd agreed, if only because she's been trying to put herself out there more since the world nearly ended and she realized she'd seen very little of it. not that late night bars are really the 'you can't not experience this at least once in your life' kinda thing. at least, for her. 

after searching for a tedious twenty minutes and deciding he'll call or text if he suddenly realizes she's gone and needs a ride, she abandons the crowd and shuffles over to the end of the bar. 

the bartender doesn't look too pleased when she simply orders a water so she asks for a ginger ale too, glancing sideways to avoid his contempt that she's taking up a seat. and gets an eyeful of someone she doesn't recognize, not with her hair a curtain between them.

she sips her ginger ale and puts her phone face-up on the table. that way she'll see it if ollie does try to reach her. 

PENELOPE LIVY

☉

for a split second she allows herself to look at an alternate present, one where she'd said that this was the last straw. that she was done. that it was over. how immeasurable that pain would be. and so that split second stays just that, with their alternate selves splitting the rest of their frays that crowd their stubborn still-open wounds.

a blush crawls up to her cheeks and she stares at him, making a face that's a mixture of too many emotions to parse. quickly, though, she goes back to studying her jeans, tugging nervously on a loose thread. 

"i'm free tonight actually. i had dinner plans, but they - well, i'm free. and it's not like you planned for me to see that graffiti."

her eyes light up suddenly. "is that old place still around? gods, what was it called? the one we loved."

boruta maher

☉

she is serious. for the past few months - hell, for the past year, everything has been out of control. the threat of annihilation looming over them might be something hoenn's average joe can get over without any trauma, but willow is still kept up at night over it. and to cycle through those she's closest to, to know they're at the forefront of disaster...it's almost too much to bear. 

if she could turn ollie into a scarecrow and keep him safe on the farm, she would. 

but both of them know he's happiest when he's out there helping others. so she gives him a side-eye when he implies otherwise, and makes a show of rolling her eyes, and shaking her head. she turns her attention back to the road, jaw clenched. 

she doesn't usually drive. after samuel passed, she'd sold off their cars to make ends meet. and even though the business is doing better, she didn't see the point. most places she needs to get to are nearby and anything further than a few miles is enough to warrant taking lou. 

but grace has been incapacitated since the attack on her berry farm so she'd given willow the car to borrow - "it's the least i can do, honey, for all the help you've been doing around the property."

"no, i think i might just make you drink it plain while i eat my combee's delicious honey in front of you."

she sighs. she's never been good at punishment. "of course i'll mix some honey in. do you have any prescriptions we need to pick up on the way?" 

ollie morales

☉