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#multipurpose fashion

blastkat · 4 months

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Parade fashion for everyday wear

When you think of Parade, you think of intimates, swimwear, or casual wear. Most people wouldn’t associate them with every day style or fashion that can be worn in more formal settings. I like timeless, multi-purpose pieces that enhance my body positivity and add a unique flair to my appearance.Fashion:Fitted T-Shirt | New Cotton (Poseidon)Comfort Rib Short Sleeves | Lush Rib (Cupid)Racerback…

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#blastkat #blogger #bodypositive;bodypositivity #contentcreator #everyday #fashion;style #multipurpose #paradelab #paradepartner #timeless

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opencartthemetemplate · 2 years

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Jewelz Premium OpenCart Theme

Jewelz Premium OpenCart Theme can be used in online store or eCommerce website to sell products online. This OpenCart theme is suitable for small to medium business owners who have their online store. This Jewelry Responsive Opencart Theme can be used for Online shopping cart website to sell their products. Jewelz OpenCart theme with simple and cool features. Designed for OpenCart website for Responsive Multipurpose stores.

MORE INFO / BUY NOW DEMO

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businesswptheme · 2 years

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Belleza - Multipurpose Responsive WordPress Themes

Multipurpose Responsive WordPress Themes – A theme that is developed for business, shopping, online store, corporate, creative, lawyer, minimal, modern, multi-purpose, one page, parallax, portfolio, responsive, shopping, visual composer, woocommerce, wordpress themes.

This WordPress Themes is suitable for multipurpose website that your want to build on WordPress platform. Creative business theme.

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doofile · 2 years

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Foxic - eCommerce HTML Template is a multipurpose eCommerce bootstrap HTML5 template. Foxic Template comes with more than 16 ready made Home page layouts and over 50 other HTML pages. Foxic Template is perfect for different category store websites like fashion, accessories, shoes, bags, t-shirts, electronics, furniture, sport, toys, nutrition, boo...

#HTMLTemplates #bootstrap #ecommerce #fashion #html #multipurpose #onlinestore #retail #rtl #template

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unbidden-yidden · 9 months

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For a number of years, I've been thinking about what an alternative to fast fashion might look like that wouldn't rely on companies to decide suddenly to stop selling us garbage or government regulators to actually make rules with teeth on planned obsolescence and externalities.

Obviously the goals would be to have the whole process from field to closet to waste degradation be environmentally sustainable and rely on fair, well-compensated labor.

The items themselves would need to be designed to last for a very long time: socks and underwear for a minimum of five years; bras for a minimum of ten; leggings, undershirts, t-shirts, and shells for a minimum of five hard-wearing years or ten light-wearing years; and outerwear, bags, and accessories for decades. Wool and leather coats, properly maintained, should be able to be passed down to your grandchildren. Shoes would vary greatly based on the exact material and purpose, but would be designed with the same durability considerations.

The fit should be unique to the person, and tailored to fit their exact proportions, body fat, and hard-wearing points. Therefore, items would not be labeled by size at all, but generally shown in different schematics to demonstrate what the item would be tailored to look like on different body types. Instead of just designing items for straight sizes and items for plus sizes, make general design plans that are easily adjusted to be shrunk or hemmed in some places, reinforced in others, and let out or expanded in others.

How the person wants to wear the item should also be taken into account: is this going to be a neck scarf or headscarf? Is this sleeveless dress going to be worn as a sundress or over a shell? Is this person going to be wearing breast forms or binding? Does this person use a wheelchair and if so, what are the touch points/hard-wearing points based on their actual chair? Etc.

Lifestyle should be taken into account: what is this particular item going to be used for? Are you hiking? Climbing mountains? Working on a farm? Working in an office or courtroom? Working retail or in a restaurant? Lounging with friends in your home? Playing sports? Wrangling small children? What do you need to do in your clothes? And what if you need something that will get your kids to daycare, yourself to your office day job, to a post-work workout or date with friends, and then to moonlighting as a cashier at a pizza place? (This is a real example of one of my friends, btw.)

It should not only be possible to move comfortably in the clothes to be able to do everything you want to do, but should be possible to easily modify the look to allow for multipurpose use with a simple reconfiguring of the garment and/or changing up the accessories. Pockets and ways to adjust the clothing for different external factors like temperature, weather, and time of day would be a must for basic items like button-up shirts, dresses, pants, and skirts. Additionally, sensory aspects should be taken into account as well - no itchy tags or ill-placed seaming, and certainly no plastic seam support tape or interfacing to make up for poor base materials. How the item wears over time should be considered, so that it starts out feeling good and wears into being extra comfortable and lived-in.

Simply put: the clothes need to be designed for practicality and comfort.

To the greatest extent possible, it should be easy to do immediate care for the clothes at home - stain removal, washing, drying, and even basic mending. However, for items with more technical maintenance and/or repairs, that service should be provided in-house to allow for more durability and control over sustainable practices for things that can't simply be washed, like wool coats. Repairability would need to be considered for common hard-wearing areas; extra panels in the inner thigh, elbow, knee, and armpit areas to help make the garment easily repairable to look as good as new would be things to consider.

Similarly, the look and style should be considered for the intended duration of the item. If it needs to look elegant for twenty-five years, then it needs to be designed with a classic look that will last the full time. Things like consistently flattering lines, colors, and patterns that tend to stay in fashion should be prioritized, with the ability to easily add or subtract embellishments to update the base garments. Accessories should be designed with a much greater range of colors and styles to allow for outfit variation and customization.

And the idea I keep coming back to is of a subscription styling, tailoring, mending, and recycling service with a lot of different plans and multiple payment structures to offset the cost of all of this. Realistically, the Vimes boots theory of economics is well in effect here. A dress that could replace thirty cheap fast-fashion items but will cost $5000 isn't going to happen for anyone who isn't exceptionally wealthy, even if over time it actually costs the individual less. The only real way to do this would be to treat it like an asset and structure payment accordingly. In the meantime, having a staff to handle maintenance of the items (such as repairs, style updates, and refitting as the person's body changes) would help to improve the sustainability of it as a business.

Anyway I'm not a business major, but I'm curious about what y'all think of that approach? Is this something you'd consider?

#aaaaanyway #who wants to start a business with me lol?

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thebowerypresents · 2 months

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Tierra Whack Celebrates Debut Album’s Release at Webster Hall on Friday Night

Tierra Whack – Webster Hall – March 15, 2024

Philadelphia rap queen Tierra Whack has been getting the party started worldwide with her infectious rhymes for several years now. (It’s probably only a matter of time before she graces the multipurpose-room stage on Abbott Elementary to battle Tariq Temple at a F.A.D.E. showcase.) Whack channels creativity and visual aspirations into her poetic lyrics and the videos that accompany them. From the Grammy-nominated video for “Mumbo Jumbo” to the recent Alex Da Corte–directed “27 Club,” her flair for fashion exudes further joy and pop, as witnessed on World Wide Whack, her debut full-length. She celebrated its release Friday night at a sold-out Webster Hall.

With a large inflatable of the World Wide Whack avatar occupying a third of the stage, the rapper appeared adorned in her silver clown suit mirroring the attire from her album’s aesthetics. Opening with track one from her latest, “Mood Swing” appropriately began with “I’ve been trying new things.” Throughout the show, the crowd indulged in a call-and-response, which warm-up DJ Kill Sing kicked off with a cry of “worldwide” and requested the “Whack” reply. The admittedly nervous singer would cover the majority of the new songs, from the bounce-inducing “Ms Behave” to the melancholic “Two Night,” Her confidence building thanks to the supportive crowd, Whack effortlessly weaved among rap, pop, and R&B with her new material. On lead-single “Chanel Pit,” music box melodies danced amongst the spits of cultural references, like Vin Diesel and Resident Evil. Closer “27 Club” grooved to more R&B vibes for a downtempo, contemplative swan song, enrapturing the front row.

Tierra Whack didn’t leave her stans without a trip down memory lane, including fan favorites like the bop “Pretty Ugly” and “Fuck Off,” which elicited raised middle fingers across the room. Everybody on the floor happily sang, “He likes my diamonds and pearls,” along with “Hungry Hippo.” For the first time live, Whack performed her section of Lil Yachty’s “T.D.” before calling it a night. Despite the house lights turning on and exit music playing, everyone stayed put, chanting, “World Wide Whack,” leaving the stage crew unsure if they should halt operations. DJ Kill Sing indicated it might not be the end to this unforgettable night, as a wigless Whack returned to confess she was already shedding her costume. The crowd-manifested encore had the Philly native run off “Peppers and Onions” atop the barricade, before dropping to the floor amid her rabid admirers. —Sharlene Chiu | @Shar0ck

Photos courtesy of Edwina Hay | thisisnotaphotograph.com

@thesearenotphotographs

#Abbott Elementary #Alex Da Corte #Bowery Presents #DJ Kill Sing #East Village #Edwina Hay #Lil Yachty #Live Music #Music #New York City #Photos #Review #Sharlene Chiu #Tariq Temple #Tierra Whack #Webster Hall #World Wide Whack

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snailsmeller · 2 months

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RIYU’S PERSONA YAYAYAYA I FINALLY REDESIGNED IT!!! IM SO HAPPY HOW HE CAME OUT EHHEHE

This is so riyu core!!

Boutta drop some extra cool riyu lore!!

RIYU’S A SPACE ALIEN WHO’S ENTIRE SPECIES LOOKS REALLY SIMILAR TO SNAILS SO THEYRE CALLED ‘SNAILIENS’ (Im so good at naming things! /sar)

Every snailiens favorite food is starfruit & they use the shell’s on their back as a sort of life raft when in space!! It can inflate, change color, and even hold items like a multipurpose backpack!!

HE FLYS A SUPER COOL SPACE SHIT AND IS OBSESSED WITH HUMAN’S FASHION CHOICES :D!!

He also makes out with his bug boyfriend on the daily (my boyfriends persona)

#artist #digital art #small artist #digital artist #art #snail oc #original character art #original character #character design #character art #snailoc #snailsmeller #snailien #my oc art #i cant stop looking at them #i love this so much #i love how it came out #peeing my pants right now

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bijoumikhawal · 9 months

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Nose rings in Egypt

Wearing nose rings in the Eastern Mediterranean actually goes back to the time that the Torah was being written. Referred to as nezemim, Rebecca is noted as wearing one. The practice continues to this day, though they are less common and have grown to be more strongly associated with South Asia and Alt sub cultures. Today it is thought that the wearing of nose rings in India may have been imported from West Asia (the assertion that they were brought over by the Mughals seems inaccurate, however, as the first mention of them is from around 1000 AD)- the discussion is somewhat contentious and unfortunately often feeds into political violence and bias against Muslims when mentioned.

The earliest modern depuction of a nose ring being worn in Egypt comes from the 1830s, thanks to our old enemy and research dog, Edward William Lane. He describes then as being made of brass or occasionally gold with glass beads attached to them, an inch to an inch and a half in diameter, says they are worn on the right side of the nose. His account associates them with poor women. He records the name as "khizám" or "khuzám".

A difficulty comes in recognizing nose ring examples held in museums; I have found a few items resembling this style, but they are described as earrings. The V&A is responsible for two cases, and given they have gotten information wrong on both Ancient and Modern Egyptian jewelry, my suspicion is these examples may be misidentified. The two examples will be shown promptly.

Another example of dubious identification comes from a design that may be multipurpose; silver rings with an openwork barrel at one end. The TRC Leiden institute has an example from Saudi Arabia and claims its a nose ring, but it bears close resemblance to some Egyptian examples identified as earrings, and those resemble some Coptic bronze examples also identified as earrings. To my mind this style also resembles Amazigh earrings/head ornaments (these were sometimes attached to the headdress, not the ears themselves). It is also possible that TRC Leiden has misidentified the item.

While Lane says nose rings were worn all over Egypt, the modern discussion I've found strongly associates them with Bahariya, where they are called gatar or qatrah. There, they are made of gold (usually 12 carat), with filigree and granulation filling the lower half, worn on the right side by married women. They also typically have a large flat circle of gold covering the gap where the wire goes through the nose. This is either soldered on or apart of the central wire the nose ring is built around. Occasionally a coral or glass bead is threaded into the wire that passes through the nose. They are never made of silver, as local women say silver would damage the blood vessels in the nose. They also feel that the nose ring prevents pain and headaches while worn, and when a piece has to be sent off to repair, they urge the person transporting it to hurry back.

I've found some discussion of nose rings as worn by Nubians, Sinai Bedouins, and Bisharin (Beja), Ababda (who have closely intermarried with the Bisharin), and Rashayda. The name recorded as used by Nubians and Beja is zimam. I haven't seen enough examples of Nubian or Beja Egyptian nose rings to draw conclusions about common manufacture, but I do have a few examples. One piece, attributed to Egypt by the Philadelphia museum, is a sliver ring with part of the wire flattened and cut halfway through. Azza Fahmy also provides a photo, putting it under a collection of earrings from the Red Sea area. Similar nose rings can be seen in these two photos from Sudan. I have also seen a photo allegedly of an Egyptian Nubian girl with a gold nose ring that has a similar partially flattened design.

Other Sudanese nose rings I've seen are gold, with a chain leading from the ring to the hair, in a similar fashion to the nath in India. However, these are not necessarily synonymous with Nubian nose rings, as Sudan has an Arab/Arabized cultural majority. At some point I'd like to ask someone who knows more about the subject if there is a distinction between the two styles, but as of now I do not know anyone who is knowledgeable on the matter, nor do I know of any academic texts that discuss the issue.

Beja jewelry has a strong influence from Nubian and Sudanese styles, owing to the fact that they live in proximity, and that more Beja live in Sudan than Egypt. Like Nubians, the Beja are an Indigenous group. They're believed to be related to the Blemmyes and the original group referred to as Medjay in Ancient Egypt, and some ostracon exist of their languages written in the Coptic alphabet (The Nubian alphabet is related to the Coptic alphabet as well, with unique letters for certain sounds). I have little information on the Rashayda, but they call their nose ring zimam. They claim to be descended from an Arab tribe, and some information I've seen implies they've intermarried with the Beja. Two nose piercings are in use by the Beja and Rashayda; a diamond shaped one worn in the center bulb of the nose, worn by Beja women, and gold nose rings with engraved designs or strung with beads, worn by both. 21k is the preference in Nubian goldwork, and this seems to be true of these groups as well.

In Sinai, the nose ring is called a shenaf. It has a great deal of similarity to Palestinian nose rings, and has a similar construction to Bahariya nose rings with the lower half full of filigree and granulation. It also sometimes has beads and hanging pieces. It is most commonly made of gold.

Other miscellaneous pictures of Egyptian nose rings:

Further reading:

https://newvoices.org/2021/05/14/most-decorated-women/ https://newvoices.org/2021/05/24/i-put-a-ring-in-your-nose/ | Regarding Jewish piercings and body art

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.dharmadispatch.in/amp/story/history/the-nose-ring-or-nath-is-an-import-from-muslim-invaders https://www.naturaldiamonds.com/style/natural-diamonds-nose-pin-history-legacy/ | regarding Indian nose rings. The first one is unfortunately incredibly biased against Muslims, and I wouldn't link it if I could find a better write up of the argument regarding nose rings being an import to India. I debated including it at all, but figured I should stick to my rule for citing biased sources in Egyptian fashion research; include it, but note the problem.

The Traditional Jewelry of Egypt by Azza Fahmy

The Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians by Edward William Lane

https://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O79718/earring-unknown/

https://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O79793/earring-unknown/

https://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O79718/earring-unknown/

http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O79342/earring/earring-unknown/

https://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O79454/earring-unknown/

https://trc-leiden.nl/collection/?trc=&zoek=saudi&cat=Accessories&subcat=&g=&s=24&f=0&id=2435

https://www.philamuseum.org/collection/object/41469

#actually egyptian tag #Masr #Nose rings #Nubian jewelry #Egyptian jewelry #Cipher talk

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ladyimaginarium · 1 year

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Okay so I'm& revitalizing this again.

Hi, my& name's Arcana& / Angel&, and I& am the core / host / singletsona of The Imaginarians Galaxy. If you want to help support a local queer, trans, nonbinary, genderfluid, intersex, mspec, aspec, autistic, disabled, neurodivergent, hoh, chronically ill, psychotic spoonie witch two spirited mixed native and ashkenazi jewish bodied multigenic DID system who's an aspiring activist, fashion model, voice & film actrex, ASMRtist, youtuber/vtuber, polyglot & writer, it'd be greatly appreciated.

This month is Pride Month & Indigenous History Month so please support our indigenous turtle island communities, know who's land you're on and support queer indigenous turtle islander creators, & on top of that, July 13th is also my& birthday & July is also Disability Pride Month & Queer Wrath Month !! I& just find it's funny how white queers get all this support & clout, but the minute a queer Native Jew asks for any kind of mutual assistance, it's like cricket noises, but anyway, here I& go again, I'm& putting out these links just in case someone actually does wanna help out because it's only right to do so being an indigenous queer two spirited bodied system, after all.

If you're white, you can think of this as paying reparations for us& for dealing with antinative racism, antisemitism, ableism, sanism, pluralphobia, psyism, audism, homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, multitransphobia, aphobia, exorsexism, intersexism and the ongoing colonization of my& people and fighting on the behalf of the indigenous, queer and plural communities on here while for any POC reading this, you can think of this as extending your solidarity with us&, so after I& spent a lot of blood sweats and tears into what i& do, I'm& finally asking something that would benefit me& for a change, even like 10$ could help, but even if you still can't for whatever reason, please spread the word out to help us& live easier as a disabled, neurodivergent mixed native system in this ableist & racist world.

Donate To Our& P*yP*l

Multipurpose Psychiatric Service Dog Donations

Throne Wishlist

So far these are the best ways to support us&. Information on commissions, booking tarot readings with me& as well as sensitivity reader information will be available in a reblog eventually.

We& didn't have a great childhood growing up as we& were abused for a decade & we& weren't taught many lifeskills so we're& still learning from the gate. Even though we aren't in a life threatening emergency, I'm& generally not in the right financial space to spend a lot & buying my& own shit because I'm& Saving Up™ for a lot of things, including the possibility of me& moving to my& first ever apartment next year & my& future service dog & I& cannot work due to my& multiple disabilities, & I& can't stand up for long periods of time without feeling exhausted & just being an overall madcripple, so whatever you do, it'd be greatly appreciated, especially if you like our& content.

Remember, reblogs > likes!

#arcana.txt #mutual aid.#** post; signal boost.#hennywayz please consider helping us& out !#our& p.osts for our& t.arot readings & c.ommishes'll be open soon hopefully bc we& got Good Reviews !! TM #also our& s.ervice d.og GFM is still a wip in the sense the description needs to be updated our& bad but you generally get the gist lmao #but keep in mind that this is only for those who're mentally & physically able to give who have energy & spoons to care & those who have $#if you don't have any of that that's fine too !! n e wayz yt settlers yall owe us& apology gift reparations lmao #tagging for visibility purposes:#indigenous history month #pride month #pride #** post; okay to reblog.#!!!!!

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doofile · 2 years

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Revo - Multipurpose Elementor WooCommerce WordPress Theme is created to fit any online shopping stores or marketplace. Revo theme is suitable for multi-category store, fashion shop, kid fashion shop, furniture store, organic shop, cosmetics store, gift shop, book shop, watch store, medical store, flower shop, wedding store and more. Revo theme is ...

#Themes #WordPress #cosmetic #ecommerce #elementor #fashion #furniture #jewelry #multipurpose #shop #woocommerce

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abudhabilaundryservices · 5 months

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Discover Effective Ways on How to Organize Clothes for Maximum Efficiency and Style

To achieve an efficiently organized wardrobe, it's vital to adopt a holistic approach that considers your lifestyle, work demands, and individual style preferences. Begin by assessing your wardrobe needs based on your daily routines, allowing you to prioritize clothes that align with your current life stage and fashion choices.

Mindful Consumption and Sustainable Practices in Wardrobe Organization:

Encourage conscious shopping habits that prioritize quality over quantity. Emphasize investing in timeless, versatile pieces that can be styled in various ways. Promote sustainable fashion practices, such as clothing swaps, upcycling, and supporting eco-friendly brands, as effective means to reduce fashion waste.

Leverage Digital Tools for Wardrobe Management:

Integrate technology into your wardrobe organization process by utilizing apps or software designed to catalogue and categorize your clothing inventory. These digital tools assist in outfit planning, track wear frequency, and even suggest combinations based on your existing wardrobe, streamlining your organizational efforts.

Optimize Storage Solutions for Clothes:

Move beyond traditional storage methods and explore customized solutions. Consider modular and adjustable storage units that adapt to your evolving wardrobe requirements. Implement smart storage solutions like motorized closets or rotating racks to maximize space utilization effectively.

Champion Inclusivity and Diversity in Wardrobe Management:

Highlight the importance of accommodating diverse body shapes, sizes, and cultural clothing preferences within your organizational strategies. Embrace a narrative that celebrates individuality and diverse fashion choices, fostering inclusivity in wardrobe organization discussions.

Embrace Versatile and Functional Clothing Pieces:

Highlight the value of multifunctional clothing items that seamlessly transition between casual, formal, and versatile day-to-night wear. Encourage integrating adaptable pieces like reversible garments, convertible dresses, or multipurpose accessories that offer both style and functionality.

Encourage Community Engagement and Collaboration:

Foster a sense of community by facilitating discussions, workshops, or online forums focused on efficient wardrobe organization. Encourage the sharing of tips, experiences, and innovative ideas for effective closet management. Collaborate with fashion influencers, stylists, or sustainable fashion advocates to bring diverse perspectives to the forefront. By incorporating these actionable strategies into your approach to organizing clothes, you can tailor your wardrobe management methods to suit your unique needs while embracing sustainability and inclusivity. This proactive and adaptable mindset ensures that your wardrobe organization evolves alongside your personal style choices and lifestyle changes, resulting in a more fulfilling and purposeful closet experience.

#ClosetOrganization #ClothingCare #LaundryDay #FashionTips #OutfitPlanning #CleanCloset #LifestyleOrganization

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talia-rumlow · 2 months

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Home Sweet Home (AU Brock Rumlow/Original Female Character) 18+ Chapter One

WORDCOUNT: 6267

TRIGGERS: Age Gap, 911 Call, Police

CHAPTER ONE - SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS!

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The blistering Texas sun beamed down on the pavement, smothering downtown Mansfield in an oppressive heat wave. The cloudless sky stretched on in an expanse of clear blue, offering no respite from the sweltering 93°F temperature. The only escapes from the relentless rays were the shady trees in the parks or the cool relief of air conditioning indoors.

As Calleigh locks the office door, she feels the heat radiating in from outside. Having worked in her dad's delivery business for a little over three months now, she easily navigates the building, double-checking that everything is secured for the weekend. Approaching the exit, the intense heat worsens. Calleigh lifts her shirt, revealing a cute pink butterfly piercing on her belly button - a small act of rebellion she got after her first visit with her dad following her mom's move to New York with a new boyfriend. Pushing aside thoughts of New York and the boyfriend she detests, Calleigh fans her exposed stomach with her shirt in a futile attempt to withstand the heat on her way out, silently thanking the universe for Fridays and weekends.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Brock backs his day-old black Chevrolet Silverado 1500 as close to the garage door as possible. Searching for the key to turn off the engine, he suddenly remembers this truck has a keyless start/stop system—all he has to do is push a button. Brock chuckles a bit of his lack of knowledge about his new car, before he makes a mental note to get used to the new feature.

Though the car met all his needs, Brock struggled to adjust to its high-tech features. While he wanted to embrace the smart house, smart phone, smart car lifestyle, at heart he was old-fashioned. To Brock, a car should just be a car, and a phone just a phone. These days, cars were becoming more like living spaces, packed with extra gadgets and gizmos; and those new phones were multipurpose devices that served not only as phones, but also as calendars, alarm clocks, cameras, journals, and computers. He almost felt that he was too old to keep up, with his 46 years, Brock started to feel that his youth had passed him by long ago.

Placing his toned muscular forearm on the center console; Brock looks over the dashboard. The car's built-in entertainment system was bigger than his nephew's tablet. The right side of the screen informed him that the temperature was a scorching 94°F and climbing; moving over to the left side, where he could decide on what radio station to listen to, operate the car's cameras, use the built-in GPS system, connect his phone via Bluetooth and a bunch of other stuff he'd probably never use.

A quick glance at the clock told him that he had to get to work. He had promised Jack ages ago that he would fix the Oil leak, change the filter, the camshaft belt and do an overall service on the car. But the parts he needed weren't always easy to come by. So here he was, grabbing his mechanic's creeper off his truck, to finally do the job; four months behind schedule.

Brock swings open the garage door, revealing the stunning 1967 Chevy Impala. The sleek black exterior gleams in the sunlight, resembling a rare diamond. Despite its age and need for repairs, the Impala exudes charm, blending masculinity and nostalgic charm. Like Brock, Jack shares a fondness for vintage cars, true American muscle cars such as this. The old cassette player still hums within, and Jack hasn't altered a single detail on the car. There's a palpable sense of trust between them as Brock cherishes the responsibility and level of trust Jack has placed in his hands.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh frowned at her license photo. At only 20 years old, she had not yet grown comfortable with her appearance. She felt her nasal bone was too thick, making her eyes seem too far apart. Makeup helped camouflage this to some extent, but no amount of makeup could alter her height. At 5'10", she was taller than average, which made finding flattering clothes a challenge. She often wished she had her mother's petite 5'3" frame, having clearly inherited her stature from the Rollins side of the family. While she could live with her blonde hair, she wished it had more volume. Her lips were too pale and thin for her liking, though makeup could fix that as well. Unlike her mother's ocean blue eyes, Calleigh had green eyes, another Rollins family trait. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Calleigh took stock of herself - blonde hair, blonder in summer; green eyes; lightly pinked lips with distinctive dips cupping her nose; a high forehead. She was a harmonious blend of both parents.

Calleigh connects her phone to the car's entertainment system, the little screen in the middle of the dashboard makes it easy to navigate through spotify to find her song, Coldplay and The Chainsmokers with Something Just Like This. It’s a song that seems fitting for her life right now.

Ever since she moved back to Texas, and Mansfield, she felt like her whole life was already planned for her.

She would get a seat at the board of directors alongside her dad and her grandfather in the delivery business on her 21st birthday in December. It would give her a comfortable and financially steady life, but very few choices.

With an exasperated sigh, Calleigh places her purse in the passenger seat. The black leather seat had small stitched details, a lighter shade of burnt orange in color, along the sides, giving it a more luxurious look.

When her dad had offered to buy her a new car, Calleigh had opted for the Mini Cooper, a car she felt was more suitable for her needs. But Jack had his mind made up on a 2020 Chevrolet Impala, black of course, to have it blend in with the other cars in the garage. After a bit of discussing back and forth, Calleigh had just given up. A car was a car, and she needed one. Although she would have given almost anything to have a convertible right now.

She was thankful for the car, it was nice and spacious with its four doors and five seats, it had room enough for both Calleigh and her friends.

The trunk suited all of her needs with enough room for both grocery shopping and a shopping spree at the local mall. The black leather seats with the burnt orange stitching offered comfort with their user friendly adjustment mechanism. The center console, designed with faux wood, held a spacious storage compartment and a double cup holder, one of which now held the almost empty Venti iced caramel latte that Calleigh got from Starbucks this morning.

The comfortable, highly equipped steering wheel made it easy to answer the phone, change songs, adjust the volume, as well as the heat in the winter. The 2020 Chevy Impala did indeed deliver a luxurious and comfortable driving experience.

She grew up in a well off family, both of her parents came from money. Both the Rollins Delivery Service and the Lewis Jewelry line had been around for generations, earning themselves a good reputation and money to live a more than comfortable life. Despite all of this, Calleigh had never seen herself as spoiled. She knew nothing came for free, that she had to work hard in school, and she had to earn her allowance. Her parents, even if they were never together, had made sure of that.

The drive from downtown Mansfield to South Pointe was roughly 10 to 15 minutes long, depending on traffic. But in this heat, Calleigh feels that it took two hours. Her shirt is sticking to her back, and her throat screams for water to the point where she's about to chug the last of the latte that had been sitting in her car all day. All she wanted was to change into a bikini and spend the rest of the weekend relaxing by the pool in the backyard.

Despite having to spend the weekend alone; without her two best friends. Jessica was preparing for her undergraduate degree, and Molly had been assigned to take a HR Masterclass in Seattle. Her dad was away as well, having a tiny legal crisis in Chicago, he had decided to fly over there himself, to oversee the negotiations. Calleigh looked forward to a weekend by the pool.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

As Calleigh approaches the house, she notices the black Pickup truck that's backed all the way into the now open garage door. Not a truck she recognizes, and they rarely had any other unannounced visitors other than her grandparents or Brock from time to time. But Brock was on a work spree these days. Calleigh hadn’t even seen him since she moved back home; which was strange, because in summertime he practically lived in the garage. Fixing her dad’s various vehicles, as well as his own; whilst sharing some beers with her dad. It was almost so that she thought that they had fallen out. But the legal crisis in Chicago had occupied her dad for quite some time, so that might be it. The two men simply didn't have time for social get-togethers these days. Even Friday Night BBQ was put on hold for the time being.

The Friday Night BBQ was one of Calleigh's most cherished traditions. Her dad and Brock manned the grill while she and her friends frolicked in the pool or yard. As they aged, they took on more duties. Molly routinely brought her signature focaccia and salad— a recipe Calleigh unsuccessfully tried recreating time and time again. Jess handled dessert; her Texas-style peach cobbler was unrivaled, the moist and buttery delight created a sweet symphony on her pallads, and topped with a scoop of peach ice cream, it became unresistable no matter how much anyone had for dinner. Occasionally Molly's mom and Jess's parents joined, packing the expansious backyard with joy, nostalgia, and hearty laughter.

With the memories of time well spent, playing like a movie in her head, Calleigh drives past the house at 2 mph as she examines the truck that's parked in front of the garage. A black Silverado, newer model. Having grown up with a father like Jack, with his fondness for cars, she's picked up a thing or ten. Of course it also helped that she spent numerous afternoons at the Rumlow garage in her early teens, when her dad worked late, or her mom spent time with that new boyfriend.

Calleigh's body goes cold when she remembers the 67 Impala in the garage. Jack's favorite car. He spent years finding the perfect one. If someone is trying to steal it, or parts from it; Jack would go ballistic. And given his military background, it'll not be pretty. For a second Calleigh feels like a six-year old, not knowing what to tell her parents when she broke a glass or spilled water on her bed.

Though South Pointe was a gated community, there were no guards on site. To enter, you needed either a code from a resident or a chip that automatically opened the gate. With the recent expansions and the constant flow of workers going in and out, it was easy for anyone to get in, whether they belonged there or not. And with a truck like the new Silverado, you could easily drive in, fill the spacious bed with whatever you were stealing; and then drive back out, without anyone raising a brow.

Calleigh takes a deep breath, weighing her options. Should she call the police or confront the person in the garage herself? Having spent four years in New York, she knows how to handle situations and always keeps pepper spray in her purse, even in Mansfield, where crime rates are lower. Despite the safer environment, she's aware that appearances can be deceiving, and anyone could pose a threat.

Turning her car at the end of the street, Calleigh retrieves her phone from her purse, its cute pink cover with butterflies and faux diamonds contrasting with the ominous atmosphere she envisions in the garage. Without overthinking, she dials 9-1-1.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a calm female voice responds after a few rings.

“I'm.…I think someone is breaking into my house,” Calleigh says, suddenly unsure if 9-1-1 was the right choice.

“Are you in the house, ma’am?” The voice persists. Calleigh hesitates, considering whether to hang up and face the intruder alone. “Ma’am, are you inside the house?” the voice repeats.

“N..no. I.. I'm outside.. In my car. I don't know what to do. I… I..” Calleigh is desperate, on the verge of crying. She can't remember the last time she didn't want to be home alone. But this is one of those times.

“What's your name ma'am?” The voice continues, still in that calm tone.

Calleigh takes a breath “Calleigh Lewis Rollins.” She replies, with a shaky breath. Trying to calm down her beating heart.

“Do you know if they're armed?” The woman on the phone continues. Calleigh feels that ice cold feeling in her stomach. Armed? She didn't think about that at all. What if they're armed, what does she do then?

“I don't know. I don't know!” She shakily replies. Her voice on the verge of breaking. Without realizing that she does, she reaches for her pepper spray. The little 3 inch pink container designed as a keychain was easy to carry around, easy to use and it had a neutral design, which made it perfect to carry around for self defense.

“Calleigh, calm down. You're going to be fine. I'll dispatch a unit to your location. What's your address?” The voice continues in a calm soothing manner, which helps to calm Calleigh down.

“2837 Chandler Court” Calleigh replies, happy that she remembered the address. She hasn't lived here too long, and in this particular situation it's things like that that usually slips.

“Do you have any firearms in the house?” Another question about guns. It's not that Calleigh wasn't used to them, it was just that in this situation, guns didn't feel like a safe topic. And this is Texas, everyone has firearms.

“Y..Yeah, we have some. Seven or ten maybe.” Calleigh replies as she does a mental runthrough of the house, trying to remember where Jack keeps all his guns. The gun cabinet in the living room, the hide away cabinet in his bedroom, and the safe in the….. garage. Calleigh takes another shaky breath as she imagines some bad ass crocks breaking into that safe.

“I've dispatched a unit to your location. They'll be there in about ten minutes. And Calleigh, please lock the doors, and stay in the car until the unit arrives.” The voice on the phone informs her, still calm and collected. Calleigh can't believe how they manage to be this calm with people in shock, pain, rage, people who're scared out of their minds. But now, today, she's extremely thankful for it.

Clenching the container with pepper spray in her hand, Calleigh almost whispers into the phone “Yes. Thank you.”

“Calleigh, please stay in the car.” The lady on the phone says again. But Calleigh can hardly hear it. She flips the top of the container in her hand, as she hangs up the phone, and slowly exits the car.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

With half an eye on the wrench around the unwilling screw, and half an eye on the bucket for the oil, Brock tries to get the screw to give. His left foot firmly planted on the concrete garage floor to steady himself, as he struggles to get the screw loose. His biceps flexing, the veins on his arm popping. His teeth clenched in concentration, and the sweat dripped from his forehead.

Brock applies just a bit more muscle power, determined to get the screw to give. The sweat on his hands makes him lose his grip around the wrench. His hand flies up, hitting the car, as the wrench falls to the floor, creating an echo around the oversized garage. “Aaaa, fuck,” he almost screams, as he shakes his hand to try to ease the pain.

The sound of metal hitting concrete, the echo that follows and the screaming make Calleigh jump. Her heart is beating out of her chest, and that ice cold feeling in her stomach comes back. Yes, the 9-1-1 dispatcher told her to lock the doors and stay in the car. But ten minutes? They should know how much damage that can be done within ten minutes. She had to leave the car. But with the screaming and the noise. Maybe she should've stayed put. Anyway, it's too late for that now.

Calleigh places her thumb on the top of the pepper spray container. “Stop what you're doing I have a weapon!” She yells, surprised by how firm her voice is, she lifts the container, ready to attack.

Brock jumps under the car from the voice yelling, something about a weapon. Startled, he tries to sit up, but since he's under the car, sitting up only serves for him to bang his head against the car. “Fuck! Shit! Don't shoot, I'm unarmed!” He yells back in a haste. Quickly moving the creeper, so he can stand up.

Getting up faster than he's ever done before, raising his arms to show whoever it is that he is indeed unarmed. “Don't shoot! I'm un-,” when he sees Calleigh he stops for a second “armed….” He breathes out in surprise at the woman standing before him. Beautiful. That's the only thing he can say about her; Silently in his mind of course.

Calleigh carefully drinks in the man in front of her. His well-worn jeans sit comfortably on his hips, a cloth tucked into the right side. His V-shaped lower abdomen is unlike anything she's seen before, leading up to a six-pack and impressive pecs that could be straight out of a commercial. The oil stains and sweat on his upper body add a sexy touch. Moving upward, she notices strong pecs lightly dusted with chest hair. As she lifts her face, broad-toned shoulders barely register in her mind compared to the veiny upper arms that make her knees feel weak. Before fully revealing the rest, she takes a breath and discovers a strong jawline, dark facial hair, followed by soft, playful, and kissable lips, a broad nose perfectly placed on his flawless face. As her gaze reaches further, she encounters two soft hazel brown eyes adorned with dark lashes and brows. Calleigh's heart skips a beat, and in surprise, she breathes out, "Brock?”

Brock had never seen such beauty and grace. Calleigh had blossomed into a stunning woman, with shoulder-length blonde locks with a few curls framing her face. Her soft pink lips were slightly parted in surprise, complementing her petite nose and accentuating the delicate curves of her upper lip. Her emerald eyes shone like gemstones, undoubtedly a Rollins family trait.

Brock swallows, his heart does a jump in his chest. “Calleigh?” His voice carried a bit of surprise. He remembered Calleigh as a rebellious 16-year old, getting belly-button piercings without permission. He did not expect this God sent beauty. And he's not sure how he should react. This is Jack's daughter. He shouldn't feel his heart jump like this because of her.

Jesus Christ, Calleigh thinks for herself. Did she just think about Brock's lips as kissable? Brock Rumlow? Her dad's best friend. Naha, no way. Take it back, take it back, take it back; she repeats the three words again and again in her head, like a mantra. It's all in vain, when Brock's lips slowly curl up into a half smile. His upper lip on the left side curls up, revealing his teeth. Calleigh feels drawn to it. It's like magnetism, an invisible force that's dragging her towards him. She swallows in a desperate attempt to keep her heart out of her throat. It's Brock, Calleigh! He's over 40 years old, and your dad's best friend; the voice in her head screams to her at this point.

"What errr..." Brock takes the cloth from his jeans and wipes his hands on it before continuing. "What are you doing here?" he questions, his eyes traveling over her. Her short-sleeved white shirt reveals the small dips by her collarbone, and Brock's fingers twitch as his mind imagines gliding his fingertips over them. He knows he shouldn't feel this way. Why does he feel this way? Further down the shirt lays tight over her breasts, Brock swallows from the sight of them. Jesus, get it together, Brock; he silently curses at himself.

“I live here.” Calleigh replies, before he can take in the rest of her. She rubs her hand on her neck. The garage offers shade and a living temperature, but she can still feel the heat from outside. And looking at Brock all sweaty and sexy isn't helping at all. “What are you doing here?” She continues, she knows that's a stupid question. He was on his creeper, under the car when she came in, and the oil stains are also a big giveaway.

“I'm fixing your Dad’s car,” Brock answers her question with a little smile, and a tap on the hood of the Impala. “How's that neighborhood watch thing going for ya?” He adds with a little chuckle.

“Huh?” Calleigh feels like she just fell out of the sky. And she imagines that it must look that way too.

Brock gestures with his head to the container in her right hand, and Calleigh looks down to see her thumb still firmly placed on the top of it. Quickly putting the cap back on, she puts her hand behind her back. “It's nothing. It's just…” she tries, but the damage is already done. The only thing she can hope for now, is that Brock won't tell Jack about it.

“For protection?” Brock asks, as he wipes his abs with the cloth. When Calleigh doesn't answer, he continues. “New York taught you a few things huh?” He delivers the question with an understanding head tilt.

Calleigh takes a breath “Yeah I guess you could say—“ she’s interrupted by sirens approaching.

Brock lets out a little laugh “You called the cops on me.” It's more of a statement than a question. Calleigh feels a rush of embarrassment, as Brock lets out another friendly laugh.

“Not so much on you.. I..” Calleigh starts, moving her legs nervously. “I.. I thought you were someone else,” she tries, but without any kind of words to complete that sentence.

“Well, guess I can only hope that they won't arrest me,” Brock continues to chuckle, as he swings the cloth over his left shoulder, and walks outside to face the police.

Calleigh stays behind for a second or two before she shakes her head and lets out an exasperating breath. This is too embarrassing. Did she really call the cops on Brock? Jesus, she's never going to hear the end of this. This'll be one of those stories that'll be mentioned in a speech at her wedding. She can just hear it in her head ‘And you can feel totally safe, Calleigh will protect her terf whatever the cost. I remember…’ Shaking her head again, she walks outside as well.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Not one, not two, but three units showed up. Thank you so much brain, for mentioning all the firearms in the house. Calleigh thinks to herself. Thankfully the misunderstanding was easy to clear up. Two of the officers knew Brock, which was understandable since Brock owned the only garage around that was certified to work on the police vehicles. And of course it helped that both the Lewis and the Rollins name was well known around these parts.

Just as the officers are leaving, Calleigh spots Mrs. Callahan across the street, coming out of her house with her walker. Mrs. Callahan was this tiny 4’9" little old lady, with long gray frizzy hair, she always wore white compression socks, a skirt with flower patterns on, a white shirt, a home knitted cardigan and brown slippers, she had lived across the street since forever. She was a really nice old lady, but she put her nose into absolutely everything.

“Miss Calleigh.” She yells across the street, with what little voice she has left. “Miss Calleigh, is everything alright?” She continues, as she walks across the street towards them.

“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan, everything is fine. Don’t worry.” Calleigh smiles at the old lady.

“I saw the police. Are you sure everything is alright? How's your father? Jack is such a sweetheart, don't you think?” Mrs. Callahan continues to talk. The thing with Mrs. Callahan was that after her husband passed away a few years ago, she had become very chatty. And if she started, there was almost no way of stopping her.

“Everything is perfectly fine Mrs. Callahan. It was just a misunderstanding” Brock shoots in, sending Calleigh an amused look when he says misunderstanding. “I can assure you that you can sleep safely.” He continues, giving the old lady a protective smile.

“O..Okay” Mrs. Callahan nods to Brock. Then she stops. “Would you be so kind as to walk an old lady back home, Brock?” She continues with her distinct old lady voice.

Brock sends Calleigh a small smile, before he offers his arm to Mrs. Callahan. When they start the short walk over the street, Calleigh can hear her say ‘Such a sweetheart, such a sweetheart’ over and over again. Calleigh can't help but smile. Both from the old lady calling Brock a sweetheart, and from the fact that Brock seriously makes her heart jump, and her stomach swoop. Both of which are feelings she's never had before.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh has just finished maneuvering her car into the garage when Brock returns. Still wearing nothing but his well worn work jeans, with oil stains and rips on them. And then that body. Calleigh swallows hard to not let out any type of sound that can give away how she reacts to this man.

“You want Apple pie?” Brock asks, holding up two Apple pies, one in each hand. “Because I have two of them,” he continues, looking from Calleigh to the pies, and then back to Calleigh again.

Mrs. Callahan might be nosy to the point where Calleigh almost felt uneasy about it. But the old lady did make the most delicious Apple pies. Sweet, zesty and sugary. With the most amazing Granny Smith apples, cooked until perfection, with that sweet taste of cinnamon, a pinch of nutmeg and sugar. Calleigh remembers them from the block parties when she was a little girl. Finishing up her dinner as fast as possible, to make sure she could grab a slice before they were all gone. Her mouth still goes watery when she thinks about it.

“She gave you two?” Calleigh laughs. Smiling wide. Partly for the thought of eating Mrs. Callahan's Apple pies again and partly from the thought that she might sit down with Brock and eat them. Why is that thought so prominent? It's not like Brock hasn't had dinner or food in general in this house before. She practically grew up with him around.

“Two isn't enough?” Brock questions, placing the two pies on the roof of Calleigh's car, before he starts to turn around. “Because I'm pretty sure I can get like five more,” he continues as he starts to leave the garage. Brock chides himself. What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he suddenly acting like a fuckin' teenager? Playing stupid flirting games, so that Calleigh will try to stop him, touch him. Jesus, Brock. He thinks for himself. Calleigh must think he's insane.

“No, no, no,” Calleigh hastily replies, grabbing Brock's wrist. “Two is –,” she involuntarily stops mid sentence from the sensation of Brock's skin against her palm. “Two is fine.. it's –” she continues, meeting his eyes as she lets go of his wrist. One of Brock's fingertips brushes over her palm, sending waves of shivers up her arm “perfect” she breathes out.

“Alrighty then,” Brock smiles, as he once again takes the pies. “Just heat them on 350, for 15 to 20 minutes, and we'll have ourselves a treat,” he continues as he opens the door that leads from the garage into the house.

Calleigh examines his broad and perfectly toned backside. His jeans fit perfectly over his behind. Calleigh swallows again. Stop it, she once again tells herself. “Maybe have a shower first?” She suggests, before she follows Brock. A shower? Really, Calleigh? She thinks to herself, the thought of naked Brock in the shower makes her want to slap herself. Cold shower it is. A really cold shower.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh locks the door to the downstairs bathroom, before leaning her forehead against the door. Oh,God. Is she stupid? It's frickin Brock for God's sake. What is she thinking? Turning around, she leans her back against the door, as she glances over the bathroom.

The bathroom had undergone a luxurious renovation. The once white walls were now covered in sleek black and gold marble tiles that gave the space a rich feel. The wood-look flooring stretched out, making the room seem spacious. Acoustic panels in complementary black and wood tones lined the ceiling. Gone was the indoor jacuzzi that Calleigh loved as a child, replaced by a double waterfall shower. Concrete shelves anchored the masculine vanity area. Perched atop were two oval basins crafted from natural river stone, marrying masculinity with luxury. A sauna for four to six sat in one corner, unused but admittedly stylish. Though unfamiliar, Calleigh had to concede the new bathroom was rather nice looking.

Stepping away from the door, Calleigh removes her work clothes, tossing them in the laundry basket by the door. Before she steps into the shower, she once again takes a look at herself in the mirror. She looks… What's the word? Young and inexperienced. Small breasts, though still firm and pointing the ‘right’ way, they're still small. Narrow hips. Damnit! Why does she care so much about this all of a sudden? Brock.. Like he would ever want someone like her. “Why do you care, Calleigh?” She says to the mirror, before she enters the shower.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

The guest bathroom upstairs offers every accommodation a guest might need, whether it was a short or a longer stay. The modern design, such as the subway tiles in the shower, the floating shelves for towels and toiletries, the bathtub, with it's spa-like bath pillow, and the shower curtain, resting on a black shower rod, that stretched from one wall to another, mixed with the intricate black and white pattern on the floor tiles it gave the room a contemporary yet nostalgic charm.

Brock leans forward in the shower, leaning his arms against the wall as he lets the water wash over his neck, dripping down over his eyes and nose. He takes a deep breath. He'd almost forgotten that feeling. Aside from the fact that he'd promised himself to never go down that path again, he had to admit that it did feel good. That warm feeling, that was pumped out in his entire body with every heartbeat. That childish need for physical contact. But no. He couldn't do this. Not with her. Not with Calleigh. He's 26 years older than her, old compared to her. Though he was in good physical shape, he was still older than her. A lot older. After he took his therapist's advice to work out more to clear his head, his workout routine had become his safe place. A place where he didn’t have to think about Iraq or Afghanistan or Taylor. Just thinking about her name makes him feel cold. Calleigh, he thinks for himself. Calleigh with the gemstone eyes and perfect lips. Calleigh with the soft skin he felt when his fingers brushed over her palm. Calleigh… Yeah, Calleigh’s better. Calleigh’s definitely better. Fuck, what is he doing?

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh looks between the knee-length tights and the white cotton shorts, weighing her options. The tights that cover more of her body or the comfortable shorts that's more suitable for this weather. God, this is just stupid. And why would Brock care anyway? Why does she care? Since when did what she wore around Brock become an issue? Opting for the shorts, she rolls her eyes at herself and her teenage-like thinking. The shorts fit better with the top anyway, and for some reason it feels important to look good right now.

After meticulously applying her make-up, Calleigh takes a good long look in the mirror. Her white shirt, with the blue and white butterfly pattern on the front sits perfectly on her body, hugging what's supposed to be hugged. Well, more like what's there to actually be hugged. Pouting a bit to her reflection and shaking her head at herself, she turns around checking if everything is in its right place. The straps on her bra are visible due to the shirts open back. After a few unsuccessful attempts trying to fix that issue, Calleigh gives up. Visible straps are better than a bikini anyway. No poolside relaxing today, there's no way she'll be strolling around in a tiny bikini with Brock around.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

The red light that indicates that the oven has reached its wanted temperature turns off, and Calleigh places the two pies into the oven. Thankful that Brock wasn't done upstairs yet. Those feelings she gets when he's around. They're… Calleigh doesn't even have the words to describe them. Sure she's been in love before, or at least smittened. She even had boyfriends, not too many or to long lasting, but still. But the feeling never lasted. And it was never like this. That feeling of her stomach doing gymnastics inside of her. What is that? Looking at the pies warming in the oven. Calleigh tries to make some sense out of all these emotions.

“Wouldn't it be funnier to… I don't know, watch a movie or something?” The voice suddenly talking over Calleigh's head startles her to the point where she hastily stands up. Banging her head into Brock's chin. “Ouch” Brock breathes out as he lets his hand glide over his chin.

“Oh, God,” Calleigh replies. Her expression is a mix of embarrassment and guilt. “I'm so sorry. Are you okay?” She continues, and without realizing that she does she lifts her arm to touch him where they collided. His rugged facial hair tickles her fingers as she carefully let them glide over his chin.

“I gotta say that your self-defense technique is a little unorthodox,” Brock smiles. “But it works, it definitely works,” he continues. The feeling he gets from Calleigh's touch is unlike anything he's ever felt before. A mix of excitement, guilt and that warm feeling spreading throughout his body.

Calleigh can't help but laugh. Brock always used to be funny, kinda like the cool uncle she never had since both her parents were an only child. She can remember millions of times when she was younger. Brock taking her to amusement parks, Brock dressing up as various animals or superheroes for her birthday parties, Brock letting her ride shotgun with him, even though Jack had told him not to. But for some reason the funny he shows her now, that funny feels different.

Suddenly realizing she's still touching him, Calleigh reatracts her hand, covering it with the other hand as she gives Brock an apologetic smile. What's gotten into her? Why does she feel like this around him all of a sudden?

“Is your head alright?” Brock asks, almost instantly regretting his poor choice of words. “From the… err.. bump,” he adds, when he sees the confusion on Calleigh's face. He lifts his hand, and carefully lets it glide over her head.

“Yeah”, Calleigh breathes out as she once again meets Brock's eyes. “I'm…” she continues, as Brock's hand glides down to her neck before stopping on her shoulder. “Good..” Whispering the last word so low that she's not sure Brock even hears it. It's definitely a connection between them. Or is it? Is she fooling herself? And if that's the case, then why?

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

The evening goes on. With Apple pies, ice cream, a movie on TV and a phone call from a worried Jack.

Mrs. Callahan had called him, and told him about the police being at the house. No surprise there. After about 14 failed attempts to call Calleigh, Jack had resolved to call Brock. Overprotective as he was, he was worried out of his mind. Before Brock explained how everything really went down, Jack was like two seconds away from jumping on the first flight back home. But after some discussion back and forth Brock had told him that he'd stay with Calleigh for the duration of Jack's stay in Chicago. For Calleigh, Jack's overprotectiveness in this situation was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing since this meant that she could spend some more time with Brock, and a curse for that exact same reason.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

After getting ready for bed, and before she turns off the lights, Calleigh sends a message in the group chat she shares with Molly and Jess.

‘Call me ASAP. I need to talk.’

No matter if there's a connection there or not, Calleigh needs to talk to someone about this. It's way too heavy to carry by herself. And what better people to talk to, than her two best friends.

Next Chapter ------->

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