Nostalgia ♢ Harmony & Mason.
Following hours of preparation, Mason had managed to arrange a sublime evening – an arduous task for someone of little romanticism as he. A portion of the money that he had stolen from his father had compensated for the cumbersome strain on his bank account. God forbid that the finer things in life would have reasonable prices, he thought. Harmony had a habit dramatically increasing almost everything she did, so dates were expected to surpass the norm. A part of him believed that his idea was suitably contrite; one that had only emerged due to his guilty conscience of betraying the one girl he had ever cared about. Although he refused to have full faith in those nefarious thoughts, he knew they were quite possible. Would he have ever done it if he hadn’t cheated on her?
The materials he needed to gather for their The Notebook worthy date had effortlessly been retrieved from local restaurants that surrounded the area. The differential aspects between Los Angeles and Wyoming were extensive. The latest the restaurants were open until in Acostas was ten pm; but only days into his move, Mason had already stumbled upon dozens of twenty-four hour diners. There was an entirely different world outside of Wyoming – and he sure felt sorry for whoever was still stuck inside it. Los Angeles was magical, a frenetic city full of beautiful and ostentatious people. He refused to ever go back. When he boarded that plane several days ago, the brown haired boy had severed all existing ties to his now penurious dad. As the days carried on, the memories of his life in Acostas was slowly becoming myopic, a distant blurred vision.
After having carried out the largest table he could find from the condominium, the nineteen year old placed the boxes of food in the center. A dozen roses lay daintily on her side of the table and the boxes of food were organized accordingly in the center. He carefully lit up the candles that surrounded the table, trying not to illuminate the area so much as that Harmony would be able to get a glimpse at his arrangement. Satisfied by the picturesque sight, Mason’s gaze diverted toward his doe eyed golden girl that sat far in the distance. The silhouette of a bottle encaged inside her supple lips was visible, an unsurprising action for the notorious drinker. She dealt with her feelings with a swig of Jack Daniel’s – a trait that the former couple shared. Throwing off his slippers to the side, he slowly and quietly shuffled towards where she sat alongside the halcyon ocean. Unfortunately for him, the crashing of the waves seemed to be the only sound emerging from the beach. The seagulls were silent and the road that followed the beach was car free. The sand felt gritty, scratching against his toes as he soundlessly trudged toward the brunette.
After a swipe of his lips with his tongue, he masked his firm hands around her eyes. A press of his lips on her pale cheek later, and the tranquil atmosphere was suddenly filled with the boy’s vociferous laughter. “I’m late, sorry,” he apologized, acknowledging his twenty minute tardiness. He used his right hand to free the bandana that was crushed inside of his pocket, and continued to wrap the item around her eyes. “Alright, I’m going to lead you over there. It’s a pretty long walk – but it’ll be worth it,” Mason added, leading the female to their destination. He hoped that the gesture would be able to abate her animosity towards him. He intended to watch his tongue tonight, careful not to say anything contentious that would result in her storming off the beach. Moments later, the duo stood before the table. “We’re here,” he sputtered, hastily untying her bandana in nervousness. Taking a deep breath, Mason let the item fall from her eyes.
The palliating bottle was securely seized amidst her petite digits, leisurely directing it to her maroon shaded lips; luxuriating herself in the pervasive fluid as it saturated with ease into her delicate figure, the beguiling philter debauching her lucid set of attitudes in the very process. It essentially elucidated trouble, a subjective caution to keep a prodigious distance from the liquid. Nonetheless, precisely that appeared to be the predominant rationale why Harmony seemed to be oh-so bedazzled by the notorious brand.
Despite the perpetual contretemps that had encompassed between the two, it seemed like the ideal evening for them to occupy themselves outside in a vacant area — for Harmony to even conceivably come around. As cliché at it might sound, he was intrinsically her entire world, whether he chose to acknowledge the fact or not. Evidently, it was a fact he neglected to discern as he had the nerve to betray her in such a way. No more than the mere notion of him being with someone else, generated the brunette to cringe frenziedly. It was beyond sleazy, and quite frankly, she was glad she found out what kind of person he truly was, before allowing the treachery to get completely out of hand.
Capriciously, a pair of solid hands covered her almond shaped orbs, her stomach virtually rotating into solidified knots by the unanticipated gesticulation; her brittle heart bracing itself to project from within the confines of its compact aperture. She was open to question if there even was a thesis judicious enough to formulate, but her subconscious mind forewarned her she was compelled to dote upon whatever time remained with the nineteen year old. “Don’t you worry,” she narrated, a smug smile dancing its way across her delicate face as her porcelain cheeks embellished an indistinct hue of cerise. “My good friend Jack here was kind enough to keep my company.” With a subtle chuckle, she neglected to allow the bottle to accompany the two, sedately raising to her feet as her perception remained pitch black, the texture gently disguising her saccharine irises.
Upon arrival, the mere sight of what Mason had constructed instantaneously decorated her delicate skin in goosebumps at the mere sight of what was in a flash loomed ahead; ruby roses adorned the wooden surface of the cosmic table, minuscule candles containing a dazzling ardor that seemed to irradiate the suffocatingly dim aura with a pulsating pressure. Her caramelized hues darted to converge with his, a subtle beam evident upon her ornate features. Her dainty fingers subjugated a distinct silver of her radiant tresses; tenderly interweaving it around her diminutive digit. “You’ve overdone yourself this time, Mason,” the petite brunette twitted, softly chewing on the insides of her her cheeks as her fingers deftly eased through her curls whose cascaded down her vaguely curved back like gleaming waterfalls of caramel. “This might even be more than you did back when we actually dated,” she specified, slicing the brief silence with her words containing of pure awe. Allowing her stellar spheres of chocolate to charge towards the wooden table once again, her umber brows arched upwards. "So, what are we eating?" the brunette inquired with a change of subject, tucking a diminutive strand of her bronzed locks behind her ear as she spoke.