thursday pic prompt

[basslines]

the picture prompt meme

i. COMMENT WITH CHARACTER
ii. OTHERS LEAVE A PICTURE (OR TWO OR THREE....)
iii. REPLY TO THEM WITH A SETTING BASED ON THE IMAGES.

THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY.

link to an image: <a href="IMAGEURL">TEXT</a>

embed an image in your reply: <img src="IMAGEURL">

control width and height: <img src="IMAGEURL" width="INSERT"> OR <img src="IMAGEURL" height="INSERT">

Comments

brooke maddox | scream

[seemed]

[uncovers]

[seemed]

[ doctor ephraim goodweather becomes important to her when she isn't looking. maybe, she decided at some point, that was part of what kept her coming back for more. with boys, it's easy — ignore their texts long enough and eventually they'll call you a bitch and go back to whatever girl's next in their queue. but then there are men, who look down at you and touch you with strong, capable hands, and bring you close, and you feel so — safe.

he's a mess, and she knows it. still a little hung up on his wife, still a little on edge because of the job, but eph has a good heart. despite whatever he sees in himself, he's genuinely full of a love he doesn't know how to give, and brooke wants to wrap her fingers around it and put it somewhere his ex's grubby mitts can't come near it again. ( she tells him the first time that she's nobody's rebound — he texts her again the next morning and she thinks that, maybe, he's listened. )

she visits him at a bad time, the office he's temporarily occupying sporting a large window with the blinds half-drawn. the darkness of the neighboring room is the only way to the proper exit, which she hesitates in, watching. he's throwing papers in the air, tension visible from his forehead to his shoulders and the way his knuckles turn white. her arms are folded, observing with crooked brows and pursed lips. the occupant of this office was on their way out, and he lingers a moment to wish her luck, before turning for the door completely.

brooke sighs, shuffling for eph's closed door with a frown. it's unlocked, so she turns the knob and lingers in the doorway, crossing her arms again. when this gets nothing, she clears her throat expectantly. ]

Looks like someone could use a break.

[ turning on the spot, she says simply: ]

When you're finished throwing your little tantrum, meet me out back, Doc.

[uncovers]

[ He's a mess. For all that he can be blind to his own flaws and faults, he's not blind to that. (Initially, he thinks that maybe Brooke is a part of that, the typical midlife crisis beat of having an affair with a younger woman, but the fact of it is that he's never been the kind of man who's found that kind of thing easy (he understands the delineation between physical and emotional intimacy, but the rift between him and Kelly had never been about a wandering eye). And, more than that, she's not the kind of girl to tolerate that kind of messing around. She tells him as much, outright. (He's always liked that in a woman.)

To wit, the sharp note in her voice when she appears in the temporary office is welcome rather than an annoyance (his ire mostly having been spent on Barnes after learning that the temporary relocation of the lab would last a little longer than originally scheduled). In part, it's because it's a separate part of his life — perhaps less so than it ought to be considering the fact that she's here at all (and the look Nora gives him, the first time she sees her around) — and in part because it's a reminder that, sometimes, he needs distance.

Ten minutes elapse before the back door creaks open and Eph steps out, looking a little less tense than he had inside. He takes a seat next to her on the stairs, settling his back against the now-closed door.

As he looks over at her: ]

Sorry.

[ He means it broadly, specifically, in every sense of apology. (He's a narcissist, but he could power a neighborhood with self-loathing, too.) ]

Didn't expect to see you here.

WILDCARD.

[gunned]