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noratilney · 2 days

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Trope Discussion: Blind Characters Covering Their Eyes

The majority of the projects I am asked to beta include blind characters who cover their eyes. Modern characters wear sunglasses. Other characters wear blindfolds for older settings. The story usually justifies the decision in some way, but I always ask: why?

I also neglected to include this in my post on Things I Want to See More of / Less of in Blind Characters. I don’t think I considered it at the time. However, unlike my post on blind seers, I think this trope actually causes some harm in subtle ways and I usually encourage avoiding it. I’ll discuss why in this post.

What’s Wrong With Blind Characters Covering Their Eyes?

Keep in mind that blind characters are not so common. Because they aren’t very common and because not everyone in your audience knows a blind person in real life, the way the character is represented could lead audiences to believe that is how blind people are. This, coupled with a general lack of information given in everyday life, allows writers or artists to unintentionally influence how real life blind people are perceived.

Sure, blind people create blind characters as well. However, we don’t usually get as much exposure or opportunities. We could be held back by other barriers, such as poverty. This means it can be hard to counteract tropes we don’t like or that activity harm us.

Blind characters covering their eyes is potentially harmful for a few reasons.

One reason is that it is assumed that all blind people always cover their eyes. This means that in real life, blind people are not as easily recognized even when they have a cane. The white cane is supposed to be what alerts others that a person is blind. Instead, people get confused about why a blind person isn’t wearing sunglasses if they’re blind. This leads to unnecessary explanations, lost time, refusal to help, and sometimes hostility. Wearing sunglasses helps some blind people communicate blindness more easily. They may feel forced to adopt the stereotype.

Another reason is that it unknowingly touches on the pressure some blind people face to cover their eyes. This could be because they are self-conscious about them or because of pressure to make other people feel more comfortable. This pressure could originate from the way their eyes look or move, or even due to lack of eye contact. Sometimes, stories present these ideas as normal for blind people, which increases the idea that blind people should be ashamed of their eyes or that they should prioritize the comfort of others for something superficial.

Where Did the Stereotype Come From?

While I am not sure about the exact origins, the stereotype probably comes from a few sources: shorthand symbolism and abled actors playing blind characters.

-Shorthand symbolism could be used in art or plays to indicate a character’s blindness.

-Because films and shows are so popular and more easily consumed, audiences are more often exposed to blind people on the screen. Actors who aren’t blind often wear sunglasses to make them appear blind to audiences who would perceive eye movements as breaking character. The actors in live-action material often wear sunglasses to hide their eyes. Why blind actors aren’t hired initially is another story.

This page discusses the sunglasses trope in films.

-Some blind people who wear sunglasses for any reason may also simply be more recognizable as a blind person as opposed to blind people who don’t wear sunglasses. This means others may not be aware that blind who don’t wear dark sunglasses exist.

The Sunglasses Stereotype

I should mention here that blind people are simultaneously expected to wear sunglasses as a signifier of blindness while also accused of faking for wearing them. The rationale is the idea that blind people can’t see the sun and therefore would never need sunglasses. This, of course, depends on the stereotypes that all blind people are totally blind, which is not true. Most sources I have found over my time writing this blog state that less than 10 to 15% of blind people are totally blind, which means about 85 to 90% of blind people have light perception or some residual vision.

When Should Our Characters Wear Sunglasses or a Blindfold?

Many writers have characters cover their eyes because it feels right. Some assume the character would feel uncomfortable with the way their eyes look and that they prefer to hide them. In order to write this trope well, you must understand your reason behind it.

Let’s examine why blind people wear sunglasses in real life. This page is a good one to read and was very helpful in constructing this post.

Light sensitivity, or photophobia, occurs when people have sensitivity to light, usually sunlight. Blind people can also expirience this.

Sunglasses are used to shield their eyes from the sun when outdoors and from big windows when indoors. Some sources state synthetic lighting is not usually an issue and others state some people may want to wear their sunglasses indoors.

For characters who aren’t modern, the equivalent of sunglasses would probably be a blindfold or eye patch.

Blind people like fashion just as the next person. They might enjoy wearing sunglasses occasionally. However, they don’t wear them all the time.

Blind people might also want to protect their eyes from dust or injury, whether they can see or not. This can be accomplished with sunglasses or regular glasses.

How Do We Write Blind Characters Covering Their Eyes Respectfully?

This is one of those tropes I prefer people avoid. I say “avoid” because I want to come across it less which means way less people need to use it.

Think about why you want your blind character to cover their eyes.

Is it because it simply feels right to you? Is it because you believe it will help audiences understand or accept that your character is blind? Is it because you can’t imagine your character any other way? Is it because your feel deep down that your character’s eyes would make other characters uncomfortable?

Think about where this idea comes from and whether you really want to use it.

If you have decided it makes sense for your character to cover their eyes, here are some tips for you to do it well.

1. If they use sunglasses for fashion, have the blind character go without the accessory periodically throughout the story. Consider avoiding them covering their eyes when they are first introduced, as first impressions can be memorable. Your blind character should not be the only one who happens to wear sunglasses as part of their style.

2. If they are sensitive to light, do research on photophobia. Consider where the character is when covering their eyes. Do they mostly wear sunglasses outside and near big windows? Do screens bother them? Make it clear in the story.

3. I always suggest having more than one blind character in a story. This is important for moments such as this. Having a blind character who doesn’t cover their eyes shows that not all blind people cover their eyes. This, in addition to a writer understanding exactly why their character covers their eyes, will help immensely.

This trope is a problem when no reference to the alternative is made, usually because the writer doesn’t understand what they’re writing about. They haven’t considered the reasons blind people cover their eyes and therefore aren’t aware that not all blind people do so. Having more than one blind character in the story shows more than one experience, including covering or not covering eyes. Showing different experiences eliminates the idea that blind people “just do” certain things. It makes people think.

If you want audiences to think, you first need to ask: why?

When writing marginalized characters, remember that their marginalization decreases the amount of accurate information available about them. Audiences don’t have as many resources to check. They may even lack the inclination to do so at all. This could be because of a desire to maintain biases or simply because they don’t consider blind people much outside of entertainment or pity. Surprisingly, some people are even actively resistant or hostile to the idea of taking time to learn about the experiences of blind people.

This means your story could be more impactful than you realize.

When you’re writing, ask yourself the question: why? You might realize that it makes for a richer, more informed story.

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noratilney · 2 days

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Lost and Found - Chapter 30

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. You do not have to read the original series to understand this fic)

Warnings: slight profanity

It's a lot of dialogue. Sorry :(

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebejeweledwatercat @alisbackalleybbq @asirensrage @residentdormouse @fanficanatic-tw @kmc1989 @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/139296199

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you’d lke to be added :D

****

“I figure in a couple of days we’ll go into town. Get you and Millie all the things you still need.”

His voice is raw and husky; laced with both sleep and contentment as it rumbles deep within his chest. Scarred and misshapen knuckles repeatedly skim the length of her spine; their naked bodies pressed tightly together, caught in a mess of rumpled sheets and tangled limbs. Spent and sated; droplets of perspiration littering their skin and gathering at their temples and the napes of their necks. Their lovemaking had been uncharacteristically slow and tender; a combination of reconnecting and worshipping one another’s bodies and his desire to not cause any more discomfort as she continues her recovery.

“It’s a pretty lengthy list.” Her head rests on his chest; eyes closed as the fingers of one hand lazily trace the tattoo that graces his ribs. “We didn’t exactly come with much. Lots of things were left behind. At Alessio’s.”

“Doesn’t matter how much there is. I don’t care how many lists there are. Whatever you guys need…fuck, whatever you guys WANT…we get. Simple as that.”

“You’re going to create a hell of a predicament for yourself,” she chides and repeatedly brushes the tip of her nose along his collarbone. “People are going to think you hooked up with a gold digger.”

“Yeah, right,” Tyler chuckles, palm briefly lingering at the small of her back, calloused fingertips drifting over the curve of each buttock. “Because there’s just so much gold to dig for.”

“You know what people are like. They talk. It’s what they do.”

“I don’t give a shit. You should know that by now. Besides, you stuck around when I didn’t even have anything to offer you. Just tons of baggage and a shack in the outback. I think it’s safe to say you’re not with me for money.”

“Of course, I’m not with you for money.” She presses a series of kisses along his jaw. “I’m with you for your body.”

“As ancient and crumbling as it is?”

“It’s beautiful.” Lightly scraping the fingernails on one hand down his chest, she speaks between kisses and gentle nibbles on the side of his neck. “So…so…so beautiful.”

“And fat.”

She laughs against his Adam’s apple. “I did not call you fat. I called you thick. And I said it with love and admiration. And insane amounts of animalistic lust.”

His fingertips glide across her shoulders, then down the backs of her arms.“My favourite kind.”

“Mine too.” She rests her head in the nook between neck and shoulder, nose pressed against the long-healed bullet wound in the side of his throat. Her eyes closed as she reaches up to comb a hand through his longer strands of hair; allowing them to slip between her fingers before repeatedly curling and twisting sections around her index and middle fingers.

“Whatever you and Millie need, we’ll get it taken care of. Doesn’t matter how long the list is. Gotta take care of my girls, ya?”

“I like how that sounds. ‘Your girls’. There’s something so sweet about it. So…romantic. In a Tyler sort of way.”

“I can’t believe you’d call me romantic and sweet in the same sentence. What did I ever do to deserve that?”

“Listen, I know you have a reputation to uphold, but you DO have your moments. Where you’re just the softest, loveliest, cutest man on earth. You bring your own brand of romance to the table. And it’s perfect. For me, anyway.”

“Ever thought maybe you’re the one that brings all that out? That I’m not like that with everyone?”

“I already know you’re not. In the same way that I know how lucky I am. I get ALL of you. The REAL you. You’ve never hidden that from me. Not even in Dhaka.”

“I’ve never felt a reason to hide anything. Even back then. Something told me you were good people. That I could trust you. And believe me, I hadn’t felt that way about anyone in a long time. If I ever even did.”

“You trust Nik. And Yaz.”

“That’s different. That’s pretty much all business. Related to the job. I know that they always have my back. That they’ll step up if things go bad.”

“You trust them with me, don’t you? And Millie?”

“Not in the way I trust myself with the two of you.”

“That’s because you know what you’re capable of. You don’t second guess your skills or the things you can do. And you’ve always been protective of me. EXTREMELY protective. OVERLY, at times. Now add Millie to the mix…”

“I know that no one can take care of things the way I can; that the two of you are safest with me. Because I won’t fuck up. I won’t let that happen. Someone even thinks of coming near you and Millie, it’ll be the last thing they do, believe me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. That everything just stays calm and peaceful. That we can just let Nik and her people handle things in New York while we do our own thing here. I just want to concentrate on us. And Millie. On being a family.”

“We’ll just take it one day at a time. Concentrate on getting past what happened.”

“Do you mean in New York City? Or me taking off and never telling you about Millie?”

“Look at me…” Pushing a hand into her hair, he gently tugs on the dark tresses; encouraging her to lift her head from his chest. “...I forgive you. I know you’re having a hard time accepting that, but I do. Yeah, sometimes I’m still pissed and sometimes it hurts like hell. But I DO forgive you.”

“Just like that? Just so easily?”

“I love you. I never STOPPED loving you. And you had your reasons; for making the decisions that you did. I don’t pretend to completely understand them. Not right now, anyway. But one day I will, I’m sure.”

“I really did do it to protect you. I didn’t want anything happening to you., Tyler. And I never would have forgiven myself; if I permanently lost you because of a mistake I made. It just sucks that in the end, all I did was hurt you.”

“That’s not entirely true though, is it? I mean, I AM alive. Nothing happened to me. And things would have gone really bad if the High Table had shown up while I was there. So you DID do the right thing. If you hadn’t left, we wouldn’t be here right now. And Millie wouldn’t even exist. They wouldn’t have cared. If you were pregnant. It wouldn’t have stopped them from killing you.”

“I don’t even like thinking about that. Her NOT being here. She’s everything I ever wanted. And everything I don’t deserve.”

“There you go selling yourself short again. You deserve so much, Esme. You’re not the monster you think you are. Far from it.”

“Boy, deja vu. I seem to remember saying those EXACT same words. More than once.”

“And I learned, didn’t I? It finally got through to me.”

“You’re a lot better, that’s for sure. You’re not filled with as much self-hatred as you used to be. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You really can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Tyler smirks. “You are such a bitch.”

Esme laughs when he aggressively slaps and pinches her ass, then gives a content sigh when he kisses her; long and languid and deep, naked limbs sliding along one another and against the cool, wrinkled sheets. Her breath soft against his skin when she once more rests her head on the centre of his chest; her fingers drawing continuous circles around his navel while his repeatedly comb through her hair.

*****

He finds himself teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; placing a forearm across his torso, her chin resting upon it as she peers up at him.

Pressing a kiss to her nose, his hand slides to the nape of her neck. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“How have things been? With you?”

“You mean in general, or…?”

“In the last two, three years. That’s when you started scaling back on things, right? Trying your hand at a more normal life.”

“Nothing’s been normal about my life. Not for a long time. And especially not since you left.”

“I mean stuff like firefighting. And starting your business. How HAVE things been?”

“Guess I overestimated your spying abilities,” he teases and skims his knuckles across her cheek. “I thought you knew everything there was to know.”

“My spying stopped at your personal life. I knew the basics; the firefighting and how you started your own business. To be honest, I think I was scared to venture past those things.”

Cradling her cheek in his palm, he brushes the pad of his thumb over her lips. “Scared? Of what?”

“Finding out you were with someone. I know that sounds pretty stupid, considering I’m the one who fucked everything up. You had every right to go on with your life; to meet someone and fall in love and everything else that comes after that.”

“I was already in love. With YOU. And that wasn’t going to change.”

“Were you with other people? Other than Delaney.”

“Maybe in the biblical sense.”

“THAT I expected. For you to go back to sowing your wild oats all over the place.”

“Wasn’t all over the place. Just the vast majority of the northern territory. Well, the western part of it, anyway.”

“Oh, lovely. Does this mean I’m going to go to the grocery store and meet up with all kinds of women you’ve bumped uglies with?”

“I never pissed in my own front yard. It would have been too fucking awkward; running into a bunch of one-night stands.”

“I am marrying a whore,” she laughs, and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. Briefly capturing his bottom lip between teeth when she pulls away.

“I promise you won’t run into any of my conquests while picking Millie up at school or grabbing something at Maccas.”

“Good. Because the last thing I want is to be sharing stories about your dick and its abilities while I’m in line at the store, waiting to buy shit tickets. “

He arches a quizzical brow. “Shit tickets?”

“Toilet paper.”

“And you say us Aussies have weird slang.”

“You know how long it took me to get used to the words you’d use in conversation? Or even your accent for that matter? It wasn’t that easy; trying to decipher exactly WHAT you were saying half the time. I remember how strong it got; when we were living in The Kimberley. I guess it was from being home so much.”

“Think it was easy getting used to you? You’ve got a pretty wicked accent yourself.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“You do.”

“I’m from Colorado. People from Colorado do NOT have accents.”

Raising his head from his pillow, he presses a kiss to her brow. “Trust me, babe. You do.”

“So other than Delaney…” A fingertip drifts over the scar that runs over the bridge of his nose. “...it was just one-night stands? No relationships?”

“No relationships.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to be in one.”

“Didn’t want to be in one or couldn’t find anyone worthy enough to be in one with?”

“A mix of both, maybe. I didn’t want anyone else, Esme. Not in that way. A serious way. I wanted YOU. And if it meant I waited forever or you never found your back…”

“You would have found someone eventually. Someone that you’d fall madly in love with. Marry, have a family…”

“No. I wouldn’t have. Because that is everything I wanted with YOU. Not anyone else.”

“You don’t think you could have learned to love her? Delaney? That you could have moved on and…”

“How could I move on when I was still in love with you? When I always would be in love with you. And why are we even having this conversation? This is supposed to be the start. Of everything. Of US. And talking about this…”

“I’m just curious. Trying to fill in the gaps, I guess. Because I love you and I want to know what I missed. Even if it makes me uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t miss much, believe me.”

“Do you like it? Firefighting?”

“It’s a job. The pay’s decent. Got a little bit of edge. Keeps me busy, at least.”

“You’ve never been one to sit still for very long. Not that surprising you’d thrive at something that keeps you on your toes all the time.”

“I don’t know how much it keeps me on my toes. Not the busiest area. We don’t get a lot of action. I do get a lot of cats out of trees, though.” He gives a playful wink. “And ladies love a guy in uniform, so…”

“I’ve yet to see you in uniform, but I bet you’re hot as fuck. Especially in your turn-out gear.”

“I didn’t think you’d be into that kind of thing. Seeing as your brother is a firefighter.”

“Believe me, Tae. Nothing about you could ever remind me of my brother.”

His eyes close as her fingertips explore the scar on the left side of his forehead and the second one lower on his cheekbone. It’s a form of intimacy as its purest and most innocent of roots; the soft and tender touch of a lover who adores and worships you. Who knows every inch of your body; every blemish, every imperfection. And it’s a closeness…a level of trust and vulnerability…that he’s never experienced with anyone but her.

“What about the business? I assume that’s doing pretty good.”

“Better than I ever thought it would. Got a lot of regular clients, and more and more are coming aboard all the time.”

“Do you have people that work for you?”

“I have a few full-time guys. That deal with the heavy-duty stuff; concentrate on the real manual labour. And a handful of students who help out on weekends and during school breaks. They do small repairs, landscaping stuff, things like that.”

“Who’s in charge while you’re on your little sabbatical?”

“Koen’s my right-hand man. The guy that I trust with everything. Things are being taken care of. I’m not worried about it.”

“I knew you’d find something you’d be amazing at. You always liked working with your hands; doing your own repairs on your truck, putting up the walls and installing the new windows in that little shack of yours.”

“Of OURS.”

“Millie’s really going to get on you, you know. About that treehouse. And she’s definitely going to want to be your little helper. She loves to create. Build things. She’s got a real talent for things like that.”

“I’ll have to get her own stuff. Some tools and a toolbelt, little hardhat, some steel-toed boots.”

“She’ll love that. And probably drive us completely nuts trying to fix everything around here.”

“I’ll start her out slow. Small projects. Birdhouses, flower boxes, some planters for the garden. I promise I’ll keep her away from the power tools.”

“You’re going to have to really watch out for her. Because that child? YOUR child? Isn’t just headstrong, she is completely fearless. I wonder where she gets THAT from?”

“Her mother.”

“Hardly.”

“Well, it’s not from me, that’s for sure. ‘Cause there’s plenty of things I’m afraid of. And they all seem to involve you.”

Sighing, she presses a series of soft kisses along the scar that mars his left shoulder. “I know it did a real number on you. The accident. Seeing me like that. It’s definitely bothering you way more than you’re letting on.”

“I’m not shy. I admit it fucked me right up. All the things I’ve been through? All the people I’ve gone up against? I’ve never…EVER…been that scared. Seeing you like that? Not knowing if you were alive or dead? And if you were alive, was someone going to show up to finish things off? That was…rough.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. For how you handled things. Not just with getting me out of there and making sure I survived, but everything AFTER that. How you just took control. Stepped up. You were banged up and exhausted and hurting and you did what you wanted to do. For Millie. Just focused on her. Took care of her.”

“Why wouldn’t I have done all that? She’s my baby, too. My little girl.”

“It was all still so fresh. So new. You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath. Coming face to face with me, finding out you were a dad again. You had your entire world turned upside down. You…”

“No. I didn’t. I got my entire world BACK.”

His honesty is raw. Real. Powerful. Succeeding in both taking her breath away and bringing tears to her eyes.

*****

“So is this where I get to ask questions now?” His fingers move in slow, methodical circles on the small of her back. “When it comes to what you’ve been doing the last five years?”

“What more is there to know? Didn’t we cover all the bases?”

“Not quite.”

“There’s not much more to tell. Not anything of interest, anyway.”

“You didn’t work or anything? What did you do with your spare time?”

“I picked up jobs here and there. For Nik. Things I could just do from home. Background checks, basic research and tracking people down. Nothing that would draw a lot of attention. So I could stay under the radar. Or try to, at least.”

“Well, you did a pretty good job hiding from me, that’s for sure.”

“We’ve talked about this. I wasn’t hiding from you. Not intentionally, anyway. It was all so complicated. I had to protect Millie. Both of her parents were still in the life. In some way. And we’d both burned a lot of bridges and made a lot of enemies. I couldn’t take the chance that someone would come after her. I just couldn’t.”

“There were other reasons, too. You know there were.”

“Selfish ones. Staying away had nothing to do with you and EVERYTHING to do with me. You know that. We’ve been through it how many times now? It was never about you, Tyler. Not in the way you think it was. At first, it was about protecting you. Then Millie. And finally, it became about myself. Because…to make a long story short… I was a stupid, insecure little girl.”

“You’re not any of those things. It was just a messy situation. All around.” Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulls her towards him, lips meeting the bridge of her nose. “What else did you do? Other than helping out Nik?”

“Just took care of Millie, mostly. Devoted myself to being a mom. I joined a couple of those mom and baby groups; just to get out of the house and socialize and try and make friends. When she was a few months old, I even signed us up for yoga classes and water aerobics. Millie always loved the water. She was always so comfortable in it. Confident, even.”

“She’s gonna love it here, then. Trips to the beach, being able to swim in the ocean.”

“Except for the fact the thought of an encounter with a shark will be exciting to her. She’ll probably pray for it to happen. I am telling you, that girl is fearless. She’s so much like you, Tyler. More than just the physical. There’s so much of you in her. And it was kinda bittersweet, you know? Seeing you every time I looked at her but knowing I couldn’t actually be with you.”

“I mean, you could have been. But…”

“But I was a stupid little bitch. Like I said. That’s something that will eat at me for the rest of my life, believe me.”

“I don’t want it to. And I’m sorry I bring it up so much. Make you talk about it. Explain yourself. That’s not fair.”

“If anyone has the right to bring it up, it’s you.”

“I don’t want to be that kind of person. I want to be better than that. For you. And Millie.”

“I remember the first time you told me that. How I made you want to be a better man.”

“It’s true. You do.”

“I never considered you a bad man in the first place. A good man who made bad decisions, yes. But bad to your very core? Not even close.”

“You always have been full of shit,” He teases, and curls an arm around her neck, drawing her into a long, deep kiss. His lips against her temple when she settles her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed as his fingertips repeatedly graze up and down her bicep. “Tell me about the guy.”

Her hand slips lazily across his collarbone, down his chest, briefly settling on his stomach before travelling back up again. Finally coming to rest on the side of his neck, nails lightly and repeatedly scratching against the skin. “What guy?”

“The one you dated. In New York. The cop. Or detective. Or whatever the hell he was.”

Esme raises her head from his shoulder, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “How did you know about him?”

“A little birdie told me.”

“A little birdie, huh? What did you bribe her with? Two scoops of mint chocolate chip instead of one? Unlimited Bluey viewing on your cell phone?”

“I promised her a Porsche when she turned sixteen.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past you. You’re going to spoil her rotten.”

“I didn’t have to promise her anything. She just offered the information.”

“Out of nowhere? She just suddenly started talking about my personal life?”

“I MAY have asked her about it.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Okay, so I did. I DID ask her. If you’d ever had a boyfriend. I was curious. I wanted to know.”

“Curious, huh?”

“And a bit jealous.”

“Just a bit?”

“A lot.”

“Why are you like this? When it comes to me and other men?”

“Like what? What am I like?”

“Self-conscious. You’ve always been. Even at the very beginning of things. And believe me…” Slipping out of bed, she stretches languorously before padding towards the dresser; a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and tank top folded neatly on top. “...you do not come across as someone who would be self-conscious.”

“Did I say you could get out of bed? That you could put clothes on? There’s a strict ‘no clothes allowed’ rule in this room. Once that door closes…”

“I know what Millie’s like; if she wakes up in the middle of the night. She’ll come looking for me. And the last thing we need is her seeing both of us in all our naked glory.” Climbing into her pyjamas, she tosses his discarded sweats in his direction. “And don’t do that. Deflect. Answer my question.”

“I’m old.” He grimaces as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, moving slowly as he puts one leg into the pants, followed by the other. Knees cracking when he stands to pull them up. “ My brain is mush. I already forgot what the question was.”

“I asked why you are the way you are. When it comes to me and other men. Why do you always get so bent out of shape about it?”

“I don’t get bent out of shape.”

“You do.” Removing her hair out of the back of her tank top, she moves back to bed; fluffing and moulding her pillows and arranging them to her specification. “And I don’t get it. There’s nothing for you to get prickly about.”

“Like you don’t get prickly about my ex-wife. Or Delaney.”

“Being curious is not the same as being prickly. What is your hang-up? When it comes to me and other people?” She gives a content sigh when she slips back into bed, settling her head on a pillow before rolling onto her side to face him. “It’s not like any of them are still in the picture. And even if they were, they still wouldn’t be a threat to you.”

“I don’t see them as a threat. I know what I bring to the table. It’s not about feeling threatened.”

“What’s it about then?”

“I just don’t like it. You being with other guys.”

“I mean, I was married, remember? I’ve had boyfriends. And girlfriends, for that matter.”

“Since you left?”

“I’m talking about throughout my entire life. And did you honestly think I wouldn’t date? Or at least try to? That I would have just spent the last five years completely alone?”

“You know how you said you were okay with me going on with my life? Meeting someone else? Falling in love, getting married, all that shit?”

Esme nods.

“I’m not that gracious. Not by a long shot. I didn’t want you with anyone else.”

“For the rest of my life?”

“Well...yeah.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” She reaches for him. “Come to bed.”

“So was this guy the real deal? Someone you could have moved on with? Gotten your ‘always and forever, happily ever after’ with? Totally forget about me and…”

“Tyler, I was never going to forget about you. I carried your child inside of me. Gave birth to her. She looks just like you. Kinda hard to forget you when I’m looking at your clone every damn day. Add the fact that I was still in love with you and always would be into the mix…”

“Would you have moved on with him? Gotten married, had more kids? All of that?”

“All of that was what I wanted with you. ONLY you. So no, none of that would have ever happened. I didn’t want that life with anyone else. Just you. And if that meant I never got any of that, oh well. Now…” She pats the empty spot beside her. “...come to bed. Please? I’ll answer whatever questions you have., but just come to bed. Because you standing there like that? It’s making me incredibly anxious.”

He relents. Laying on his side with her back pressed against his front and forearm draped across her collarbone. And he presses a kiss to the back of her head before resting his cheek against hers. “What was his name?”

“Don. His name was Don. And he was a detective. Homicide.”

“How the hell did you ever meet him?”

“I worked a small job for Nik. Nothing serious. I had to find my way into the main evidence locker at One Police Plaza and steal some papers related to an old case.”

“What the fuck….?”

“Someone hired Nik because an old money laundering and embezzlement case they were involved in was going to be reopened. And if that happened, it was going to cause a big old shitstorm; he had some big-name contacts and clients of his own that would be exposed. Some really well-known people, too. Politicians, lawyers, judges. And if all that got out…”

“Heads would roll. Most likely literally.”

“Exactly. So Nik and Yaz created an entire persona for me. I had the credentials; photo identification, passport, fake driver’s licence.”

“Who were you supposed to be?”

“An agent with Homeland Security.”

“Jesus Christ. And you don’t consider THAT serious?”

“You know, for such a huge police department with apparently the best security in the country, they were sure easy to fool. It was like taking candy from a baby. I was in and out of there in ten minutes. Not even.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or pissed off. That you even put yourself in a situation like that. Especially with Millie in the picture. If you’d gotten caught…”

“But I didn’t. Well, not until about six months later. But that comes further in the story.”

“So the cop…”

“We met in the elevator. I was running to catch it and he held the door open for me.”

Tyler scoffs. “What a gentleman.”

She scowls over her shoulder. “I thought you promised you wouldn’t get prickly.”

“I’m not getting prickly. I just…”

“YOU asked,” she reminds him. “You wanted to know these things, right? You have questions. I’m just answering them. Do you REALLY want to hear this stuff? Or do you just want to be angry about something?”

“I’m not prickly. Or angry. I’m jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of anyone that even looks at you the wrong way.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“I was never like this before. I never used to give a shit about this kind of thing. I didn’t care how many people my ex dated or fucked before me. Because I was always so far up my own ass that I knew I was better than anyone that came before me. Sometimes I miss that guy.”

“The guy you were before me.”

“I was a drunk and a drug addict before you. So, no.”

“You weren’t ALWAYS that way. You didn’t always have those issues.”

“But I was a prick in other ways.”

“I liked the guy you were when we met. Yeah, you were messy and you had your issues, but so did I. I wasn’t a picnic, either. We were both fucked up. But it didn’t stop me from falling in love with you. And staying that way.”

“And now?”

“Now I like you even more. I’m glad you’re not totally up your own ass, as you put it. I like that you’re not afraid to talk about the hard things. That you’re able to admit you’re self-conscious or…”

“I never admitted to that.”

“Or you’re feeling spiteful or hateful or jealous. I mean, as weird as it sounds, everyone should want their man to be that way. Just completely honest. Because it doesn’t do anyone a lick of good if they keep that all bottled up.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s okay to be a prickly asshole.”

“Don’t push your luck, Tyler.”

Grinning, he =presses a kiss to her temple. “So, this guy…”

“What more is there to know? You asked how I met him. I told you. What more do you need?”

“You just chatted in an elevator and hooked up with him, or…?”

“He asked me out for an Irish coffee. I said yes. It was as simple as that.”

“Irish coffee, huh? So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.”

“We went out. One date turned into two, two turned into three. Three turned into a relationship.”

“A serious one, or…”

“I mean, we were exclusive. We didn’t date other people. We just…I don’t know…we just did our thing.”

“Did you do HIM?”

“Tyler…”

“I want to know, okay? I NEED to know.”

“Why?”

“Because I do.”

Sighing, she presses a kiss to his forearm, then rolls over to face him. “That’s not an acceptable answer for anyone over seven.”

“Did you? I mean, I think I already know the answer, but…”

“I didn’t sleep with him. And believe me, it wasn’t for lack of opportunity. I won’t lie to you; we did other things and I enjoyed them. I enjoyed them a lot, actually. It was nice; to feel beautiful and wanted and to have someone completely and utterly devoted to you.”

“I would have given you all that. I DID give you all that.”

“And I WANTED it to be you. More than I ever wanted anything in my entire life. But it wasn’t a good time. To just show up on your doorstep. It was all so complicated. Confusing. And I needed to protect Millie. We’ve both burned a lot of bridges, Tyler. Crossed a lot of really bad people. I couldn’t put her at risk. I just couldn’t.”

“But you can now?”

“So much has changed. We’re both walking away. From this life. And I know all of this probably doesn’t make much sense to you. But it makes sense to me.”

“And you couldn’t seal the deal with this guy because…”

“Because it wasn’t fair. To him. To let things get THAT serious. He was a good man and he was great to me and Millie. But I couldn’t give him THAT. That part of me. I just couldn’t. And he didn’t realize it and I never told him about you, but It was always a competition. Between you and him. Everything he did, everything he said. All I would think about is how YOU would handle things. The things YOU would say. And I tried; I really did. But he deserved better than that; a woman who thought of someone else every time he touched or kissed her. That wasn’t fair to him. He wasn’t a bad person. Far from it.”

“I kind of feel bad now. For handling the five years like I did. Me and my wandering dick.”

“Why would you feel bad? Those were my issues. Not yours. You had every right to go on; to deal with things however way you wanted to. You were the one that got hurt.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you hurt yourself more than you hurt me.”

“It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to leave. And I didn’t want all that time to go by; flying under the radar and keeping Millie a secret. But it was so complicated. The lives we were both living. It was never to punish you or hurt you. It was to protect you. And her.”

He nods slowly, considering her words. “So is that why things went bad? Between you and the cop? ‘Cause you wouldn’t pull the trigger?”

“He was very understanding. Very patient. He just assumed I’d come out of a bad situation and I just wasn’t ready for that kind of thing. And I didn’t bother telling him any differently.”

“So what happened? What made him walk?”

“You mean there’s something the little birdie DIDN’T tell you?”

“She did. But I’d rather hear it from you. How’d he find out? About who you REALLY were?”

“I told him.”

“That was risky.”

“Once I realized he was getting more serious and deeper into things than I expected him to, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’d spent six months with him; half a year pretending to be someone I wasn’t.”

“Were you getting more serious about things? About HIM?”

“I mean, I liked him. I was attracted to him. And he was very good to me and Millie. He spoiled the hell out of her and she liked having him around; he took her to baseball and hockey games, they went to the zoo and the movies, he braved the Macy’s toy department more than once.”

“And I want to be happy about all that, but…”

“You weren’t there, Tyler. Through no fault of your own. Millie needed someone. A father figure. She wanted someone like that in her life.”

“She had someone like that. She had a DAD. That would have been there had he known she even existed.”

“And THIS is why I didn’t want to talk about this stuff. No matter what I say or do, it’s only going to upset you. You say you want to know everything, but deep down…”

“I have a right to know all of this stuff. I haven’t hid anything from you. About what I was up to in the last five years. I was totally honest about Delaney. It should go both ways, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to fight. I get it; you’re hurt and you’re angry and you need to take it out on someone. I get it, Tyler. And I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. You have every right to be pissed. But do you REALLY want to keep doing this? Bringing it up over and over again? Finding fault in everything I say? You tell me you want to hear these things and then…”

“I’m not trying to fight.” He uses his fingertips to clear hair away from the side of her face and loop it behind her ears, then presses a soft, reassuring kiss to her lips. “And I’m sorry. For acting like a prick sometimes.”

“I never said THAT.”

“Not in so many words.”

“I’m not trying to take away how you feel. You have every right to be pissed off. And hurt. You even have the right to take it out on me. But…”

“I don’t have that right. At all. And I don’t mean to do it. I know it hurts you. And you’re the last person I ever want to hurt, believe me.”

“We need help, Tyler. PROFESSIONAL help. Or we’re GOING to need it. To get past all of this. To deal with how we’re both feeling. You and your anger and your hurt and me and my regret and my guilt. I don’t think we can do it alone. Or that it’s healthy for either of us to even try.”

“You want me to see a shrink.”

“Not a shrink. A counsellor. And not just you. US. Someone who can sit with us and help us unpack all of this and work through it. I think deep down, you realize we need it. That kind of help.”

“If you think that’s the way to go…”

“I think it’s something we need to at least try. And then just go from there.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Including THAT.”

“Now that’s true love,” she teases, and presses a chaste to the corner of his mouth. “And I think it might do Millie some good, too. To talk to someone. She’s been through a lot; seen and heard things no kid should ever have to. I know she’s a tough little thing, but I also know she’s a lot like you; when it comes to shoving things down and pretending they don’t exist. I don’t want her growing up like that. And I know you don’t either.”

“I don’t. I don’t want that at all. Whatever she needs…whatever WE need…we’ll make it happen.”

Smiling, she kisses him; long and soft and sweet. And when she pulls away, his palm still cradles the side of her face; thumb repeatedly brushing against her cheek. “I didn’t love him.”

“I never…”

“You were going to ask. I knew it was coming.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“I was attracted to him. I cared for him. Deeply. But I didn’t love him. And I don’t think I ever would have.”

“He must have loved you. He just let you walk. After he found out the truth.”

“Maybe? I don’t know. He never said he did. Sometimes I felt, you know? And I wasn’t ready for that. I probably never would have been. None of it was fair to him; lying about who I was, allowing him to get so close, letting him think that maybe there was some kind of future…a happy ever after…in the cards. He deserved a lot better than that. A lot better than ME.”

“You’re not a horrible person, Esme. You’re…”

“I hurt people. Even the ones I love the most. It’s who I am. It’s what I do.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You didn’t do things because you wanted to. You did them because you HAD to. It was just part of the job. If you didn’t lie about who you were, the ending would have been a lot worse than fucking up some guy’s ego.”

“I should have never gotten involved with him. I should have done everything possible to just keep my distance. But I was lonely. I wanted someone in my life. Maybe not to have a serious thing with; I didn’t want to live with someone or get married or grow old and gray with them. He made me feel beautiful. He made me feel wanted. I hadn’t felt that in so long. And if I couldn’t get it from the person I wanted it from, I had to settle. SETTLE. How horrible does that make me sound? Talking about another human being like that?”

“It doesn’t sound horrible. It sounds…”

“Needy? Desperate?”

“No. It just sounds…sad.”

“Sad as in pathetic or…?”

“YOU sound sad. When you talk about it. And you must have been sad when it was happening.”

“I missed you. Every second of every day. And it got worse when Millie came along. I had wanted to be a mom for so long. And I finally had this beautiful little girl. Everything I ever longed for. But I couldn’t share her with you. And that wasn’t fair. To either of us. Or you.”

“See? You did hurt yourself more than you hurt me.”

“You have no idea what I went through. I just tried to shut myself off. I was in love with someone I couldn’t be with. Through no fault of his. He’d done nothing wrong. So I told myself I’d never let that happen again. Get close to someone. That it was better if I just concentrated on being a mom. And that’s what I tried to do. I DID. But…”

“Then you met this guy…”

“All of a sudden, I wasn’t as lonely anymore. There was this man that wanted me. And no, it wasn’t nearly to the depths you did. But it was…something. And I desperately needed it. More than I wanted to admit. All I wanted was to feel something…anything…again. But the more I felt for him, the more I missed you. And that’s when the competition began. He was never going to be YOU. Not even close. No matter how good of a person he was.”

“Did he just walk away or…?”

“He was hurt. Rightfully so. It’s kind of a kick in the nuts when you hear something like that; that the person you’ve spent six months with was nothing but a fake. And he felt stupid; that he didn’t sense that there was something wrong or that there was something I was hiding from him. I told him not to take it personally. It wasn’t any fault or weakness on his part. I was just that good at my job.”

“You must have horseshoes up your ass. ‘Cause for him to just walk away instead of not locking you up…”

“Maybe he felt bad for Millie. Putting me away meant she’d have no one. And I don’t think he’s the type to do that to a little kid.”

“You know what I think? I think he was in love with you. That’s why he was so forgiving.”

“And I think you’re reading too much into things.”

“I can’t say I blame him, though. I know from personal experience how easy it is. And how fast it can happen.”

“Now I think you’re overestimating my appeal.”

“Not in the fucking slightest.”

A smile curves her lips, and she reaches up to sweep hair off his forehead. A hand on his cheek as she leans in to kiss him.

“Thank you.” The fingertips of both hands slide across her shoulders and down either side of her spine, gently squeezing her ass when his lips meet her brow. For telling me. About him.”

“Thank you for not totally losing your shit. I was worried there for a minute.”

“Oh believe me, inside I was throwing tables and punching holes in walls.”

“Because that’s healthy,” she chides, cradling his face in her palms as she presses a kiss to each corner of his mouth, his cheek, chin, and finally his lips. And when she pulls away, she finds herself rendered breathless by the way he regards her; the pure adoration and devotion that softens his face and sparkles in his eyes.

It’s overwhelming at times. To be worshipped and loved in such a manner. Realizing that you’ve become such an enormous and integral part of someone’s existence. Yet it’s a love that many fear will never find them; so beautiful and all-consuming and life-altering.

Running the pad of her thumb over his lips, she sweeps her knuckles along his jaw and then wraps both arms around him. Her body pressed tightly against his as she tucks her face into that favourite spot of hers; that secure, safe place between neck and shoulder.

“It’s always been you, Tyler.” Her breath is warm and sweet against his skin. “It will always be you.”

#oc: esme drummond #oc: millie rake #ship: tyler x esme #chickensarentcheap #friends' ocs #fic: lost and found #friends' fic

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