[color=silver][indent][indent][right][sub]TIMESTAMP: Day 2, the morning of the time skip ft. [color=ccb097]Indira Rossi[/color] & [color=B4CB81]Owen Quinn[/color][/sub][/right][/indent][/indent] [indent][indent][center] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/users/aewin][img]https://i.imgur.com/e3AvmBi.png[/img][/url] [img]https://i.imgur.com/hfUq1Cy.png[/img] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/users/brutalbx][img]https://i.imgur.com/zXZb6yJ.png[/img][/url] [b][color=#B4CB81]▂[/color][color=#B4CA81]▂[/color][color=#B5C982]▂[/color][color=#B6C883]▂[/color][color=#B7C784]▂[/color][color=#B8C684]▂[/color][color=#B8C585]▂[/color][color=#B9C486]▂[/color][color=#BAC387]▂[/color][color=#BBC287]▂[/color][color=#BCC188]▂[/color][color=#BDC089]▂[/color][color=#BDBF8A]▂[/color][color=#BEBE8A]▂[/color][color=#BFBD8B]▂[/color][color=#C0BD8C]▂[/color][color=#C1BC8D]▂[/color][color=#C2BB8D]▂[/color][color=#C2BA8E]▂[/color][color=#C3B98F]▂[/color][color=#C4B890]▂[/color][color=#C5B790]▂[/color][color=#C6B691]▂[/color][color=#C7B592]▂[/color][color=#C7B493]▂[/color][color=#C8B393]▂[/color][color=#C9B294]▂[/color][color=#CAB195]▂[/color][color=#CBB096]▂[/color][color=#CBAF97]▂[/color][color=#CBB096]▂[/color][color=#CAB195]▂[/color][color=#C9B294]▂[/color][color=#C8B393]▂[/color][color=#C7B493]▂[/color][color=#C7B592]▂[/color][color=#C6B691]▂[/color][color=#C5B790]▂[/color][color=#C4B890]▂[/color][color=#C3B98F]▂[/color][color=#C2BA8E]▂[/color][color=#C2BB8D]▂[/color][color=#C1BC8D]▂[/color][color=#C0BD8C]▂[/color][color=#BFBD8B]▂[/color][color=#BEBE8A]▂[/color][color=#BDBF8A]▂[/color][color=#BDC089]▂[/color][color=#BCC188]▂[/color][color=#BBC287]▂[/color][color=#BAC387]▂[/color][color=#B9C486]▂[/color][color=#B8C585]▂[/color][color=#B8C684]▂[/color][color=#B7C784]▂[/color][color=#B6C883]▂[/color][color=#B5C982]▂[/color][color=#B4CA81]▂[/color][/b] [img]https://i.imgur.com/CHlWY8W.png[/img] [b][color=#B4CB81]▂[/color][color=#B4CA81]▂[/color][color=#B5C982]▂[/color][color=#B6C883]▂[/color][color=#B7C784]▂[/color][color=#B8C684]▂[/color][color=#B8C585]▂[/color][color=#B9C486]▂[/color][color=#BAC387]▂[/color][color=#BBC287]▂[/color][color=#BCC188]▂[/color][color=#BDC089]▂[/color][color=#BDBF8A]▂[/color][color=#BEBE8A]▂[/color][color=#BFBD8B]▂[/color][color=#C0BD8C]▂[/color][color=#C1BC8D]▂[/color][color=#C2BB8D]▂[/color][color=#C2BA8E]▂[/color][color=#C3B98F]▂[/color][color=#C4B890]▂[/color][color=#C5B790]▂[/color][color=#C6B691]▂[/color][color=#C7B592]▂[/color][color=#C7B493]▂[/color][color=#C8B393]▂[/color][color=#C9B294]▂[/color][color=#CAB195]▂[/color][color=#CBB096]▂[/color][color=#CBAF97]▂[/color][color=#CBB096]▂[/color][color=#CAB195]▂[/color][color=#C9B294]▂[/color][color=#C8B393]▂[/color][color=#C7B493]▂[/color][color=#C7B592]▂[/color][color=#C6B691]▂[/color][color=#C5B790]▂[/color][color=#C4B890]▂[/color][color=#C3B98F]▂[/color][color=#C2BA8E]▂[/color][color=#C2BB8D]▂[/color][color=#C1BC8D]▂[/color][color=#C0BD8C]▂[/color][color=#BFBD8B]▂[/color][color=#BEBE8A]▂[/color][color=#BDBF8A]▂[/color][color=#BDC089]▂[/color][color=#BCC188]▂[/color][color=#BBC287]▂[/color][color=#BAC387]▂[/color][color=#B9C486]▂[/color][color=#B8C585]▂[/color][color=#B8C684]▂[/color][color=#B7C784]▂[/color][color=#B6C883]▂[/color][color=#B5C982]▂[/color][color=#B4CA81]▂[/color][/b][/center] Indira couldn’t deny it, but the best thing following an impromptu pizza party evening was waking up to cold pizza for breakfast. Sitting on the dining table while feasting on her morning breakfast with one hand, the other busy scrolling through her Instagram feed with practiced ease. Some familiar faces showed up often: Bronagh Milligan, Amity Lyon and Gigi Blake; her sisters from other misters, besties and thottie social media collaborators. Indie showed her support for her girls with likes and comments with an obnoxious amount of heart eye and drooling emojis, no doubt swept away amongst the many other thirsty comments under their beautifully risque pictures. The pizza and mindless social media scrolling could only distract her thoughts for so long before her mind would return last night’s call with Vivia. She was relieved that Bella had been able to take her in, but the fact that Vivia’s mental health was left unchecked for so long was a no go. Perhaps it was a bit of her own guilt talking, having not reached out to the Belmonte bombshell in a while herself, but the least she could do was be there for her now. Indie switched over to her messaging app, not having to hunt for Bella’s name as it was her last chat she’d had before passing out from the pizza coma she’d gone into thanks to Ely. [quote][color=ccb097]girlie, i’ll bring some beaubucks soon, any requests? xx [/color] [sub][i]Delivered.[/i][/sub][/quote] She stared at the phone intently, as though trying to manifest a response from Bella. She had been so preoccupied with her phone and manifesting that Indie had missed the sound of the bedroom door opening. Owen preferred not to sleep at home. There were too many Quinn’s, not enough rooms and a whole lot of crazy. Sometimes he did wonder if he may have been secretly adopted considering just how different he was to his siblings and father. The Quinn’s were a harras of wild stallions, galloping across the open Irish moor, unbowed and unafraid of what hardships may come their way. Owen did not feel like them in many ways. He wanted to rise above his station, the right way. He wanted to graft, work hard and provide a life for those he loved in an honest fashion. Yet he spent most of his time pulling his siblings out of fires and covering up their mistakes through his own duress. The brightest spot in his clouded life sat munching on cold pizza on top of the dining table. Indie sat there, sun illuminating her in all her glory and Owen had to force his jaw closed so it didn’t hit the floor. He had loved her from the moment he first saw her but he had her to make a move, if he ever would. He wasn’t good enough for a girl like her. He was a Quinn, he was born scum and would die scum. Still, when he was with Indira, he felt like the king of a golden castle. She made him feel that way, like he was the most important person in the room. Her heart shined bright and made everyone around her do the same. With a smile on his face, the boxer gently closed the door behind him before taking a step deeper into the kitchen. [color=B4CB81]“Am I still dreaming cos I see an Angel eating the last of my meat lovers?”[/color] [color=ccb097]“What can I say, this angel loves her some meat.”[/color] The innuendo did not get lost amongst the friends. The longer she hung out with the thottie gang, the more comfortable she felt flirting with people around her. Owen was the easiest to flirt with, making her feel like some kind of Casanova capable of sweeping him off his feet. Not that she would, he was too good for her. Too sweet. She had baggage she had to unpack and she couldn't expect Owen to fix her. No matter what her Bollywood movies told her. [color=ccb097]“I've left you a slice, and made some coffee for you.”[/color] She slid the mug gently across the table top in Owen’s direction. [color=ccb097]“Just so I can still claim that angelic status.”[/color] [color=B4CB81]“I’ll never claim you’re anything but an angel.”[/color] Owen reached out for the plain black coffee that his Indira had made for him. She knew better than to destroy the deep dark flavor of his morning nectar. The fighter found out very early that he liked his coffee to punch him in the face. He needed to be alert all the time, he never knew when he’d get a call to go bust one of the Quinn’s out of a jail of their own making. Owen’s gaze drifted up and around Indie sat on her perch. The morning post storm light that came beaming through the windows only illuminated the beauty that had enthralled him from a young age. With her soft exotic features, those deep brown eyes and gentle kindness that one felt instantly in their soul, how could he not be crazy about her? Like he said, Quinn’s had a habit of making their own jails. Owen’s trapped in a prison of fear and of cowardice. He could take a beating, he could go twelve rounds and he could fight tooth and nail to get what he wanted yet he couldn’t find that same strength and intestinal fortitude to tell Indira Rossi that he had been madly in love with her ever since he first met her gaze. After taking a sip from his coffee, Owen placed both hands onto the mug, sliding his body towards and briefly pressing against Indie’s. [color=B4CB81]“Have you spoken to your family? Dani and Sonya stay out of the storm?”[/color] [color=ccb097]“Yeah, thankfully. Both ma and didi were at work so they skipped the worst of it. Hm, I should make some dinner plans with them soon, it’s been a while since I’ve made ma’s carbonara. Oh, speaking of her carbonara, we’re out of eggs. And cheese. We- [i]I[/i], should tell Els that before I forget-”[/color] She raised her phone again to look for Ely’s name in her text messaging history before shooting off a quick reminder. It was mostly for Indie’s benefit, there were way too many times she’d forgotten to tell Ely that their eggs or milk had gone off in the fridge only to complain to Ely about it that very evening. After a pause, Indie faced Owen, her eyes lingering on Owen’s grip on his mug. [color=ccb097]“Have you-”[/color] She cleared her throat, her voice pitched higher than she had expected. Must be the pizza. [color=ccb097]“Have you got any plans today?”[/color] Owen’s eyes tried to hide the fact that he was drinking in his friend's beauty with every passing second. At this point his deep feeling for her was an open secret to everyone but Indira herself. The boxer just never knew the right time and place to admit to her how he felt. To look at them in their element, always touching, always together, to anyone not a stranger they would appear as any normal loving couple. He tried to focus on her question. [i]Did he have any plans today?[/i] He wasn’t working at the cleaning place today and he wasn’t in training for the squared circle at the present time so, realistically the quietest Quinn was free as a bird like in that Skynyrd song his father loved so much. And he would most definitely jump at the chance to spend the day with Indie. [color=B4CB81]“Nah I’m free. My next shift with Navarro isn’t until tomorrow. What do you got in mind?”[/color] If there was a constant with Owen, it was his intensity. There was always a look in his eyes, his mind always seemingly running with some thought or the other. Indira always found his expressions fascinating to watch. The storm in his dark, ocean eyes always held back by his calm demeanor. It reminded her of Maxine, both being the grounding rock in Indira’s life. Neither allowing her to stray too far from the ground. Truth be told, it was akin to addiction whenever Owen would direct that intensity towards her. The look in his eyes set the blood beneath her skin on fire. She never wanted to lose that feeling. If it made her a terrible person, so be it. She was never one to share what was hers. [color=ccb097]“The plan today is to check up on Viv and Bella. Viv didn’t look really well on Facetime last night and I don’t like it.”[/color] When Indira’s phone buzzed with a response from the dark haired beauty, her screen lighting up with a picture of herself, Owen and Ely, she lifted her screen to show the notification to Owen. [color=ccb097]“Got an order for some Beaubucks first we gotta pick up if you’re down to join me?”[/color] [color=B4CB81]“I mean you need my van so of course I’ll join you.”[/color] Owen could feel Indie’s eyes on him and it made his heart race like a greyhound. He raised his coffee to his lips and downed some more of the black tar. He didn’t know Viv or Bella that well if at all really. Scott Street was not really his scene behind the fact he cleaned most of their pools on a Thursday afternoon. He did, however, know the late Allison Davies. A sore spot whenever brought up. She was one of the few to reach out to the Southie boy when he turned up to be their slave for the day. Many had pondered on the nature of their friendship and Owen had always professed not innocence but privacy. He did not want to speak for the dead when he barely struggled to string words together for himself. [color=B4CB81]“When do you wanna leave?”[/color] Indie barely looked down at her (watchless) wrist when she chirped, [color=ccb097]“How ‘bout now?”[/color] With the crust of the pizza forgotten - a feat on par with Indie, she slid out of her seat and stretched her muscles. She was [url=https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/681981231478341663/1053439408730279946/image.png]already dressed[/url] for the day, having taken a selfie in the morning light and posting it to her Instagram story first thing after getting dressed to take advantage of the early glow rising through the apartment window. [color=ccb097]“No time to waste. Seize the day. Capra diem. Hasta la vista? Chop chop! You get the gist!”[/color] She stood by him, rocking on the balls of her feet from excitement. She was so adorable when she was excited and Indie found excitement in even the most mundane of things, like a coffee run to Rochambeau. Owen wished that he could see the word the same way as his beloved but despite the struggles her family faced, and face them they did, they weren’t Southies. They weren’t borderline destitute and taking on short cons and resorting to petty crimes just to keep a roof over their heads. Owen was striving, swimming against the tide of his worse self and trying to be better than that. He was trying to be a good man, a man that Indira deserved. Indie looked summery in her yellow dress. It seemed to be her super power to make the easiest of items look amazing…or maybe she just looked amazing? Either way, Owen suffered the same problem that he always did, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. He lifted his mug to lips and polished off his half full cup of coffee very quickly before putting the empty beaker in the sink. After slipping his feet into the shoes that sat nearby, Owen picked up the keys to his van from the loop by the door and wiggled them to signify his readiness. [color=B4CB81]“Your chariot awaits princess.”[/color] Princess, she liked that nickname [i]very[/i] much. It was one she’d see often enough on her Instagram feed, but it never felt impactful by any means. Hell, it would only take her a few minutes to find an uncle from rural India to be wowed by her beauty enough to call her a Rajasthani [abbr=Queen]rani[/abbr]. Would the uncle be correct? Yes, of course. But that still wouldn’t make her feel as giggly and flustered as when Owen would call her a princess. As she walked past Owen, she mimicked the motion of blowing him a kiss, adding a wink on top just to sweeten the deal. [color=ccb097]“I’ve also updated my playlist so I hope you’re ready to blast some more Rico Nunez. My hot girl summer playlist was seriously lacking ‘til I found him.”[/color] [color=B4CB81][i]Fuck Rico.[/i][/color] That guy had been everywhere over the last twelve months. Every station in New England was carrying his songs. The first time Owen heard the Latin Lothario’s soft jams, he was into it. Then they played again, and again, and again. Still, if Indie was a fan then for all intents and purposes, so was he. Hell, he would be his number one fan if it meant more time with Indira. [color=B4CB81]”I mean I can’t lie, Sur del Cielo is a fucking bop.”[/color] Owen placed his hand on the small of his beloved's back as he guided her out of the apartments. He wasn’t sure what the brand new day would bring for him and Indie but if they were together, then no matter the good or bad, they could seize it. [color=B4CB81]”Another day in paradise.”[/color][/indent][/indent][/color]