Signe snorted as she watched Enzo wrestle with the tangled string. “Excuse you, I know exactly what a diamond looks like.” She leaned over, gently poking him in the arm. “It’s shiny, expensive, and usually worn by women named Margot who say things like ‘oh, this old thing?’ at charity galas.” She smirked at him, mischief and amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Wrist model, huh? That’s a big responsibility. What if I ruin her brand?” Signe stroked her chin, as if deep in thought before sighing. “But, if she’s offering ice cream. and sprinkles – I gotta risk it.” She glanced at Maisie with a secret grin, letting her know her color preferences. She glanced back at Enzo, her voice a touch quieter. “You’ve been watching her all day?”
"You sure you know what a diamond looks like?" he jests as he does his best to unravel the string to a recoverable state for Signe to make a better attempt. They always made him chuckle and never ceased to amaze him with their antics and quirks. Maisie could only gasp and promised to make Signe a bracelet, collecting information on the brunette's favorite colors. "Maisie said I had to be her wrist model. She's hoping to make a nice penny this week. If you volunteer, she does promise a mean ice cream cone with the option to get sprinkles!"
[ Hours later after the date ] SIGNE: oh my god 😳 SIGNE: Were you creeping on me?? SIGNE: I... /maybe/ ... had a date. 👀 It was all very sudden honestly SIGNE: His name is Charlie
Adriana: UMMM HELLO?!? Adriana: Excuse me, Miss Ma'am! Adriana: Are we just out here having the CUTEST little picnic date like it's straight out of a rom-com?!??! Adriana: Here I am all by my lonesome, dancing away to some frankly painful karaoke singers when I spot what couldn't POSSIBLY be my best friend out living her best life 😳 I nearly dropped my malibu sunrise! Adriana: Absolutely unacceptable that I wasn't briefed prior to this. I expect a full report on my desk PRONTO, Missy. Adriana: But well done 😘
Lia's boots scuffed against the boardwalk, wind undoing what little effort she'd put into her bun. She caught sight of Dax with that ever-present smirk and couldn't help the eye roll that came with it. "Well, well, well," she said, stopping in front of him, "if it isn't the human embodiment of a moody mixtape." The dark haired girl sank down on the bench beside him, one leg tucked underneath her and smirked at him. "Trouble's such a dramatic word, y'know? I prefer to think of it as light chaos," she shrugged. "Simple things like oversharing with a barista and spending 80 bucks on vintage strings that I absolutely didn't need." Lia tilted her head toward him, giving him a once-over. "What about you? Deeply judging tourists to pass the time, again?"
location : sunset villa beach. status : open . ( @palmviewstarters )
he leaned back against the peeling wooden bench, the salty breeze of palmview ruffling his hair as he glanced around the bustling boardwalk. his tattooed fingers idly drummed against the edge of the bench, rhythm in sync with the distant crash of waves. the sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the surf shops and beachside vendors, their neon signs flickering to life as dusk settled in. he pulled a blunt from his pocket, tapping it thoughtfully against his palm before lighting it up, the tip flaring bright in the growing twilight. inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes, letting the familiar burn settle in his chest. he hadn’t relaxed in a minute — time had a funny way of slipping past in this town, days bleeding into each other with the rhythm of tides.
he exhaled, smoke curling up toward the sky as footsteps approached, scattering seagulls nearby. he cracked one eye open, a smirk curling his lips. " well, look what the tide dragged in. " he drawled, flicking ash to the pavement. his gaze lingered, curiosity sparking in his eyes as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. " so, what kinda trouble you get yourself into today? "
The first thing Signe noticed was the smell – the warm, enticing smells wafting from the apartment even as she stood outside the door. Even though she’d chosen her outfit for their date days ago with Adriana’s help, she still had spent too much time getting ready. Worrying if the mesh dress of her own design was too much for a second date, if she was trying too hard to impress him. She didn’t know why she was putting so much pressure on this date when she already knew he liked her, knew that they were both drawn to each other like moths to a flame. And yet, after hearing Charlie’s voice call out that the door was open, she still hovered for half a beat in the doorway. She took in appearance – the towel slung over his shoulder, his sleeves pushed up and putting his impressive forearms on display. This was her first time in his apartment and she took a moment to take in her surroundings. Her eyes paused briefly over the flowers on the island, and smiled to herself before crossing the threshold. He greeted her with a soft Hej and Signe’s heart did a stupid little flip as she recognized the words to be her native Swedish despite their similarity to the English phrase. “It smells absolutely divine in here,” she said, walking over to press a quick kiss to his cheek instead of his mouth. A tiny act of restraint she wasn’t sure she could keep up for long. “You’re out to ruin me for others, aren’t you?” She tried to say the words lightly, but the truth was still there, woven into her tone. “I’m glad I came too,” she smiled, her gaze passing over all the food he’d prepared for her yet again. “You know, once I figure out how to cook, you’ll have to let me treat you sometime.” Signe laughed, soft and slightly nervous, as she came to stand beside Charlie, her shoulder brushing against his side. “I think it’d be a crime to let all this amazing food burn. So, put me to work, Chef,” she grinned. “We can put on the playlists on once the food is out of harm’s way.”
Starter: closed ~ @ofresoluxe ~ Location: Coral Cove Apartment 5B
Charlie had spent half the afternoon pretending not to overthink the whole thing. The ingredients were out; fresh veg, a stupidly nice charcuterie he definitely didn’t need to splurge on, a bouquet of the closest flower he could find that looked like an anemone sitting in a vase on the island, and his tiny kitchen smelled faintly of garlic and anticipation. He wasn’t in his chef whites, obviously, but he had rolled his sleeves up like he might be. He stood in the kitchen, a hand towel tossed over one shoulder. Casual. Effortlessly casual.. Which is to say it had taken him three tries to find a shirt that didn’t feel like trying too hard.
He’d started on the grapes already, just beginning to sizzle in the oven. The crostini were toasted, waiting on the counter, and the whipped goat cheese had been done earlier, just in case he panicked about multitasking. It sat ready in a little dish, sprinkled with thyme leaves he’d picked like it wasn’t a big deal... It was a big deal. Not the thyme, the evening. He didn’t want this to feel like he was performing, waiting to get scouted. They’d already crossed one line a few days ago, very unexpectedly but constantly thought about by him. Tonight, he wanted to let things breathe. Just them, cooking, talking, laughing. Playing that game she’d mentioned, maybe figuring out a new way to be close without rushing toward the next thing.
Charlie had just leaned over, turning his speaker up, when he'd heard the knock come at the door. He wiped his hands on the towel and smiled instinctively. "It’s open! Come in before the garlic burns and I start cryin’," he called, not looking up as he carefully stirred honey into the warm grapes, "unless you’re a burglar, in which case.. welcome, help yourself, just don’t take the goat cheese." The second he caught sight of her, he turned toward her properly, leaning back against the counter with soft eyes and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He’d been smiling more lately. He liked that. "Hej." His voice dropped a little, not on purpose, just naturally warm around her. "Glad you’re here. Crostini’s halfway done, and I’m officially trying not to act smug about how good the flat smells right now." He nodded toward the cutting board by the sink, already set up with the salmon ready to glaze. "We can cook first, or we can start the emotional excavation and let dinner burn in the background. Dealer’s choice." He gave a small, lopsided smile, then added quiet and honestly, "I’m glad you came, Signe."
@anchorsfm
Driven (2018)
Signe smiled gently, the gesture growing even softer as she registered the one of the many pet names her father had for her. Her gaze lingered on the painting for a second before turning towards her father and shaking her head. “It’s fine. The moment’s passed,” she shrugged, her eyes warm even as her heart felt heavy with a feeling she couldn’t quite name. “Fika fixes most things, anyway.” She never forgot how lucky she was. As a teenager, she’d been absolutely terrified of deviating from the path she was so certain was expected of her. But her parents had never scoffed or rolled their eyes at her passion, never sat her down to steer her back toward something ‘more practical.’ Signe knew that was not the case for everyone. That not everyone had parents who would let them want different things–to let them just try. The chestnut-haired girl wrapped an arm around her father’s waist, already leading him away from the painting and back out towards the street. “There’s a cute little coffee shop a few blocks over that I was wanting to check out, if you’re up for a bit of walking.” Signe glanced up at him, a measured easy smile on her lips. But behind her eyes lay a quiet resolve. She would make every sacrifice her parents had ever made for her matter. She had to. For herself—and for them.
pappa. it never got old, hearing her refer to him in the same way that she had since she was able to talk. he remembered those first syllables so vividly — after signe had mastered ‘mamma’ he sat, stared, and watched her for hours on end, tuned into her young babbling like radio static. just when he had almost lost hope, she had mustered the first p, and then the rest of the syllables. in that moment, søren had vowed never to underestimate his only child again. and he never had. it would have been easy for the two parents to turn their nose up at signe’s desire to pursue something creative. a doctor and a professor, with enough credits after their names to make up an entire new alphabet … it didn’t matter, so long as signe was happy. the holmströms had money — søren had worked in order to be a provider for their family — and there had never been any doubt that helping their daughter chase her dreams was where that wealth belonged. he didn’t always understand it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t support it. “oh, sötnos, i didn’t mean to ruin your focus.” søren straightened his back and followed signe’s gaze the the painting she had been admiring. he still couldn’t quite believe that their daughter had ended up with his pale gaze. “can i help you get it back? there’s nothing fika can’t fix.” one arm draped around her shoulders and squeezed lightly. “is there anywhere you had in mind ? ”
“Oh, you’re a life saver!” she grinned, carefully accepting the untangled bracelet back like it might somehow tangle itself again if she wasn’t gentle enough. “Thank you,” Signe said, offering him a polite but genuine smile. “I owe you one — you saved me from a pretty public meltdown over here.” Signe taped one end of her friendship bracelet down and straightened the pattern outline that she had been following. It was probably a bit more complicated than what most attempted as a first try, but she also figured if these were crafts for children, surely she should be able to handle a slightly more complex pattern. Her fingers fiddled with the threads and gave him a side glance. “You’re not wrong about us being our own worst critics,” Signe tucked her hair behind her ears. She had a lifetime of that lesson that she was trying to undo. “It’s easier to show other people grace than ourselves, right?” She laughed, quiet but sincere, when he mentioned keeping his crafts. “I think that’s actually really cool, though,” she said after a moment. “Keeping them even if you’re not exactly proud of them. It’s proof that you at least tried, right?” The thought was encouraging enough for her fingers to set work again on the strings. “So you do this sort of thing often?” she asked, gesturing towards the bracelet in front of her.
"If that is true, I think I'm only doing slightly better." He said responded with a soft chuckle as he continued to work on the knot. Isaiah lifted his eyes from the bracelet in his hands for a moment to offer a warm smile, "It's no problem." His attention returned to his hands as he weighed how much to say. While he wasn't too hard on himself when it came to creative endeavors much as this, there were many other instances where he would hold himself to an unrealistic standard. "I've found it's a reminder we could all use from time. We're our harshest critics, right?"
Another chuckle came from him as he finally finished untangling the knot and handed it back to the other, "I tend to feel the same way whenever I go to any of the more creative free classes the community center sometimes offers. At this point, I'm surprised my apartment isn't overflowing with some mediocre crafts." As much as he'd like to, he never immediately chucked the failed craft in the garbage, feeling as if that might be rude to whoever was instructing the class. Even if he failed at the objective, he didn't want it to seem like he didn't appreciate the instructor's time.
Signe blinked, an incredulous laugh escaping her lips before she could help it. “Whoa, how did you guess?” she grinned. “October 6th birthday.” She tilted her head slightly, amused and a little intrigued. “Should I be worried that you’re about to read my soul or something? I wasn’t planning on having an existential crisis today, but I could be convinced.”
serena lets out a light laugh , amused by the other . “ don't joke around like that because i might take you up on it . ” serena loved doing readings . truly . however , having some more serious clientele — private ones at that , would make a huge financial difference in her life . “ what's your sign ? you're giving me libra vibes . ”
resoluxe \ˈre-zə-ˌluks\ 1. the quality of resolving a challenge or decision with sophistication, elegance, and luxury.
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