- - ; walk in the park [open]

[Deleted]

--- baby it's cold outside ---

tag: kara/ayla // words: 410 // notes: 

The little light n Ayla's eyes flickers out as West breaks the news that the grogginess of a concussion could last at least a few days, if not a week or more.  He can't help but wonder what plans she'll have to cancel or what she'll have to reschedule as she rests and recovers.  He finds himself wanting to help even with the mundane: rearranging appointments, making calls, fluffing her pillows-- wait, what? The thought is cut short, probably for the best, as Ayla's cool hand lands in his outstretched one.  Her skin is pale in the cold and her hand is small compared to his.  He closes his fingers around hers.


"I'll walk for now," Ayla laughs, rejecting West's offer to carry her, and she steps away from him.  He is hyper-aware of every small movement and every slight tense of her hand in his.  Her mouth curls into the fainted smirk, before she finally admits, "I might take you up on that later."


People in the park hold more phones and cameras in front of their faces and West carefully avoids looking at any devices or making eye contact with anyone but Ayla.  He wonders if they're all for him: his football career had been practically non-existent outside of Illinois and his ten minute a week segment on USBC surely can't have catapulted him into this kind of fame.  He glances sideways at Ayla.  She keeps her eyes carefully trained away from the cameras: she too has noticed.  Who is this woman - and why is the softness of her hands slicing holes into the walls of his carefully guarded heart?


Her voice breaks into his thoughts again.  "Do you know where we're going?  I know nothing about New York.  I bought a new apartment because I couldn't find my way back to the first one." West pauses mid-stride, somewhat taken aback by her admission, then continues, nodding with just a slight hesitation.  He keeps his voice low.


"There's a medical center a few blocks out of the park here," he motions with his head to the left and pulls slightly on Ayla's hand to alter their course.  "Maybe we'll find you a city map, too," he jokes lightly, nudging her shoulder with his and winking with a grin as he turns to face her.

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[AYLA RIVERA]

Ayla gave herself another swift inward kick as they strolled on, carefully avoiding a half frozen puddle. It was so easy to pretend like she and West had known each other for ages, but the reality of the situation was that they were essentially still very much perfect strangers. Even if she felt a draw to him she couldn't pretend that he would understand her ramblings.

All sense told her this. It told her to reign it all in - to hold it back - to spare him. To treat this situation like a professional interview, to spin it into something that could be used as free publicity for some upcoming project. It would have been smart on many fronts to channel Adriana and to hide Ayla.

And yet, she couldn't. Sense was thrown out the window the second he first took her hand in his and looked at her with those eyes.

"There's a medical center a few blocks out of the park here," 

Ayla was relieved that he at least seemed to know where they were going. Judging by the throbbing in her head, her body was more than ready for some kind of proper medical attention. Or, quite frankly, drugs. Surely that would help.

She let him guide her off course, impressed with herself for managing to keep steady on her feet at the sudden change in direction.

"Maybe we'll find you a city map, too," 

West playfully nudged her, offering a wink, and Ayla couldn't help but laugh. If only a map would help her. 

"I don't know," she mused, shrugging a shoulder. "I'm starting to think the idea of finding random men to guide me around town by hand is the way to go from here on out."

The path they were now walking was leading them quickly toward the edge of the park, and Ayla could see a very different environment just beyond it. Part of her didn't want to cross in to it - to just keep on walking in the park, just a little longer - but she continued on toward it, ignoring the metaphor.

"So," she said, giving his hand a small squeeze (mostly just tightening her grip as she crossed over another patch of snow). "I know your first name and that you played football. Can you tell me something else about you so I don't have to feel weird about... well, this?"

Her eyes bright with amusement, Ayla motioned to her hand in his where her fingers were comfortably intertwined with his. Oddly enough, it probably should have made her feel weirder than it actually did, but she would use it as an excuse to get to know him.

[Deleted]

--- baby it's cold outside ---

tag: kara/ayla // words: 396 // notes: 

"I don't know," Ayla shrugged.  The action pulls at West's arm.  "I'm starting to think the idea of finding random men to guide me around town by hand is the way to go from here on out."


West is glad he's not drinking the coffee - or indeed the protein shake - Ayla had offered, because he's sure he'd have choked and spat it out all over himself at that.  He's known Ayla for all of twenty five minutes but the thought of another man taking her by the hand and leading her - well, quite frankly, anywhere - is unthinkable.  The edge of the park nears and West scans the road in front of them quickly, placing all of his trust in his internal compass to guide him in the right direction once they rejoin the city streets.  


West draws in a sharp breath as he feels Ayla's fingers squeeze around his.  It's unexpected but not unwelcome, and it's certainly not unpleasant. 


"So, I know your first name and that you played football," she speaks up again.  West suddenly feels an inexplicable sense of guilt: Ayla has carried the conversation for the last few minutes; she has been talking and he's hardly said a word in response, caught up inside his own head.  "Can you tell me something else about you so I don't have to feel weird about... this?"


West is taken aback.  This feels weird?  This feels good.  This feels right - wait, what?  That's definitely a step too far.  She certainly is beautiful, though; West turns his head to meet Ayla's brown eyes looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and mirth.  


"Okay, but quid pro quo, you gotta tell me something about you too, alright?" West agrees, then hesitates.  They're at the road now, out of the park, and West stops their motion at the crossing.  He turns into Ayla, a protective arm crossing her body to ward off any hypothetical rogue buses.  When the lights turn red, they join the throngs of people moving forwards.

"Where do I even begin? Okay, my name is Weston James and I was born and raised in Sweet Home Chicago. Your turn."

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[AYLA RIVERA]

“Okay, but quid pro quo, you gotta tell me something about you too, alright?” 

As they left the open serenity of the park and rejoined the busy New York life, Ayla felt a great many confusing things. Mostly, she was glad they were headed for help - because she was sure she was going to fall unconscious at some point and really didn't want West to have to sort that out for her too.

She wasn't used to vulnerability. Ayla had a carefully constructed sense of independence that stemmed from deep within, and it beyond irked her when she felt underestimated. Under normal circumstances, Ayla truly would have stumbled through the park, likely concussed and disoriented rather than ask for someone's help, but for some reason this stranger changed all that. It felt like there was little need to prove herself to him. 

They slowed to a stop at a crosswalk, a crowd of people gathering around them as they waited for the light to change. West's arm protectively around her made her smile, and she bit her lip to try and suppress it. She had no idea what he was shielding her from, but she had little doubt she was safe with him. 

“Where do I even begin? Okay, my name is Weston James and I was born and raised in Sweet Home Chicago. Your turn.”

Weston James. The name sounded familiar, although she couldn't quite place it. She moved with the crowd, her mind reeling until she remembered she was supposed to speak now.

“Oh - Adriana Rivera,” she said, introducing herself for the second time although now it felt official. She wasn't really sure why she gave him her real name, but again, he had kind eyes. “But I typically go by Ayla. Born in Mexico, moved to California when I was five. Still consider Mexico home, though, strangely enough.” 

A small burst of warmth from a nearby open storefront door felt like the universe offering her a small bit of comfort at the aching reminder of home as she passed it. Little Adriana had been heartbroken to have to move away, but her father's acting career was at it's peak then. Travel to and from Mexico City was inconvenient, so he uprooted her. Since then, Ayla never really knew exactly where she fit in.

She blinked several times as the double vision worsened, but kept her demeanour the same as she noticed a passerby and her daughter in her arms looking at them curiously. The small girl dropped her stuffed toy to the ground, and Ayla let her hand fall away from West's so that she could crouch to grab it. She smiled, handing it back to the small girl after brushing it off, and then quickly synced back into step with West. 

She wanted to take his hand again, but figured now it might be a step too far. She was doing alright with keeping her balance on the salted sidewalk, so there wasn't a real need for her to be holding on to him anymore... even though it was nice. Really nice, actually. Probably too nice. After a moment of hesitation she put her hands in her pockets and they felt colder than ever. 

“Right, um, what else…” she pondered, side-stepping out of an on-comer’s way. “I hate snakes. Absolutely love art galleries and museums. Back to you, Mr James.”

[Deleted]

--- baby it's cold outside ---

tag: kara/ayla // words: 535 // notes:

"Adriana Rivera," Ayla declared.  West knows that name from somewhere, he's sure of it.  He's so busy wracking his brains to place it that he's only half listening to the woman beside him as he protects her from the splashes of slush kicked up by road and foot traffic.  "Born in Mexico, moved to California when I was five."

She drops his hand then and stoops to pick up a toy - West's eyes flash down to the top of her head; for a split second he's worried she's succumbed to the concussion and passed out.  He sends a silent prayer as she straightens and he flexes his fingers, itching to wrap them around her small hand again.  He glances down to see Ayla stuff her hands into her pockets and he does the same.  

"I hate snakes," she continues after a moment.  "Love art galleries and museums."  Huh.  West smiles.  He hasn't pictured her as an art gallery fan, but now he's imagining himself following her through Chicago's museum district.  "Back to you, Mr James."


"Okay, huh, mmm..." West stalls, stumbling over his words.  How much can he let himself share?  He studies Ayla from the corner of his eye and she makes him want to share everything.  He feels crazy all of a sudden: the entire point of this conversation is that they're strangers, but he feels as though he's known Ayla his whole life.  He's never believed in fate before and he's certainly never believed in anything-at-first-sight or falling head over heels in Central Park, but he can't shake this.  


He's always been distant in relationships: woman love him and he knows it; he'll have some fun and he'll call it quits.  He's too young to throw down an anchor.  He has his whole life ahead of him.  He has a career waiting for him.  He's not ready yet.  


His career was over before it began, and he's just barely beginning to forge something new.  He's twenty seven.  All of his high school and college friends are married or planning to be; by the time his father was twenty seven, he'd been married six years and had a four year old son.  The clocks are ticking, and they're getting louder.  

And Ayla is different.  Even if nothing else, right now, Ayla needs him.  He selects his facts and takes a breath.


"I love jazz and BMXing.  And I hate cinnamon."


He could've kicked himself as soon as he had spoken..  He had toyed with the idea of sharing something deeper, but the words just didn't come.  Instead, they hang over him now like a cloud, pressing ever heavier on his shoulders.

He steers them to the right, slowing in front of a tall building, and he looks up at it.  This is the place.  He pushes forward towards the heavy glass door, nudging Ayla's shoulder with his own.


"You're up."

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[AYLA RIVERA]

“Okay, huh, mmm…” 

Ayla was quiet as she strolled along beside West, trying to stick close to him but frustratingly limited by the fact that it seemed she was in nearly everyone’s way. She waited patiently as he thought of what to share next, and in this moment she couldn’t care less if they ever arrived at their destination.

“I love jazz and BMXing. And I hate cinnamon.“

Her pace briefly slowed as she took in the information, an expression that sat somewhere between perplexed and amused on her face. Surely she couldn’t be friends with anyone who didn’t drink coffee and hauted one of the most universally beloved spices ever. Was he even human? Next he’d tell her that he despised macaroni and cheese. She considered him out of the corner of her eye and knew immediately that she could likely forgive him for all of it. 

West stopped moving and Ayla turned her full attention on him. She followed his gaze upwards, taking note of the glass building ahead of them, and she had to work hard to not let the jab of disappointment she felt in her stomach show in her eyes. Sure, she wanted to end up here eventually - but she hadn’t counted on it being so close. 

He nudged her again, and Ayla blinked as a rogue snowflake landed on her eyelash. He really overestimated her balance, she thought, what with all the nudging. Miraculously she was able to stay on her feet and barely even stumbled. 

“You're up.“

“Right, me. Um.” 

She couldn’t even count the number of people who would cringe at the amount of fillers she was using in this conversation. If it were an interview everything could be cut, all neat and tidy, to make her seem far more eloquent than she was in reality. It was easy in her line of work to appear perfect when in reality she was clumsy and mostly spouted off gibberish. 

Ayla stepped into his path, now walking backwards as they moved toward the entrance to the building. It was really the last place she wanted to be right now, but the fact that it felt like her brain was going to explode out of her skull made her push onwards. 

“I love the ocean,” she said, her eyes locked on him, “but I’m afraid of it. Same deal with cats.”

She abruptly stopped in her tracks, directly in his way to keep him from opening the door to the building. Reaching up, she brushed a few collecting snowflakes from his shoulder and tried to avoid meeting his gaze. It was hard not to look him in the eye, especially from this close in proximity. 

“Listen, before we go in, there’s something I should tell you…” she said quietly, her tone suggesting an impending heartfelt admission of some kind. Ayla feigned an internal struggle to find words as she played with the front of his jacket, and then finally looked up at him with a playful glint in her eyes. 

“I really hate hospitals. Like, really. Which is amazing because obviously I’ve spent a lot of time in them on account of me being extremely accident prone, but I still hate them. So you’re gonna have to drag me in, because I’m about to shove you in that pile of snow and run the hell away.”




NOTES: ///// sorry this reply took forever, katya! ayla was fighting me and i came down with a case of the ol' writers block /////

[Deleted]

--- baby it's cold outside ---

tag: kara/ayla // words: 633 // notes: this might be one of my longest ever ?!?!?!!

A snowflake lands on Ayla's eyelash as she appraises the building before them and West's hand itches to catch it between his fingertips.  He pushes what he hopes is an encouraging smile across his face as she hesitates, trying to think of a fact about herself - one that, presumably is both worth sharing and not too personal to share with an almost-stranger.  West is suddenly struck by the oddity of the game they're playing.  Perfect strangers, and yet, he feels like he could tell her all of his darkest secrets.


"I love the ocean," she declares, eventually.  "But I'm scared of it.  Same deal with cats."  


Huh.

West's pulse quickens as Ayla's small hand reaches up to brush a dusting of snow from his shoulder.  He couldn't fail to notice the way she carefully avoided his gaze.  


"Before we go in, there's something I should tell you," her voice is quiet.  West's blood runs hot and then cold in his veins and for a split second he allows himself to consider an imaginary, absurd worst-case scenario about Ayla's health status.  Then she plays with the front of his open jacket and he has to take deep, controlled breaths to keep himself from sweeping her into his arms.  


If she were any other woman, he would probably have pushed her up against a wall and kissed her senseless by now.  But there's something about her - some innocent vulnerability and a slightly haunted look in her eyes - that makes him want to hold her close, take care of her and do things right - do things the way he's never done them before.  Of course, maybe that's just because he found her on the ground in the park, injured and alone.  Yeah, that's what it is.  That's all it is.  He takes one final deep breath - just like the last deep breath before calling for the snap on the football field - and looks down, meeting Ayla's dancing eyes.  He quirks an eyebrow.


“I really hate hospitals. Like, really. Which is amazing because obviously I’ve spent a lot of time in them on account of me being extremely accident prone, but I still hate them. So you’re gonna have to drag me in, because I’m about to shove you in that pile of snow and run the hell away.”


"Noted," West takes a second to think - to second guess - to talk himself out of what he's about to do - and then swoops down, wrapping one arm around Ayla's waist and the other behind her knees, lifting her into the air and pushing through the door with his shoulder.  Safely inside the building, he lowers her back to the ground.


"Okay, so you're afraid of the ocean," he returns to their earlier conversation without missing a beat, as though the last couple of minutes haven't even happened.  "Sometimes we fear the most beautiful things," West muses out loud.  But the ocean isn't always beautiful, I guess.  Sometimes it's a killer.  Cats, though... that could be a deal-breaker." West winks.  He's more of a dog person, having grown up with two german shepherds and a labrador, but he's always had a fondness for cats - especially the big ones.


They're still stood just beyond the doorway, and with an arm still around Ayla's waist, he pulls her gently out of the path of a man walking far too fast and not watching where he's going.  


"Oh, we should probably get you checked in."

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(don't worry! i've been slightly awol lately. this was super fun to write though, hope it helps ayla find her way home & you get some muse back!)

[AYLA RIVERA]

"Noted,"

The moment he quite literally swept her off her feet was the very moment that Ayla knew for sure that she was in deep, deep trouble. 

In the short seconds that lingered in the air between them after her rambling was over, she couldn’t help but watch him closely. She was looking for a sign, a break in him - some kind of frown or twitch of the eyebrow - that could prove to her that he didn’t quite get her. That he, like many others, found her exasperating and confusing, and thus it would be all that much easier for her to forget about him after today. But it never came. 

It would be too complicated for her to fall for him. She knew that. It just couldn’t happen. There was far too much happening in her life. Too much drama, too many entanglements, too many issues for her to allow herself to have feelings for anyone let alone someone she just met. And yet, as she saw him reaching out for her she still let him take her into his arms, her heart thundering in her chest as she laughed.

“Okay, so you're afraid of the ocean,"

The soles of Ayla’s boots had barely hit the marble floor inside before he was already brushing off the last few moments. She straightened her jacket, checked her earrings and tossed her hair over her shoulder as she played along with him, her face barely showing that she had registered what had happened. It was difficult to hide her emotions though, and she knew that she was once again betrayed by her eyes. 

“Sometimes we fear the most beautiful things,” Ayla’s hand dropped weakly from her earring to her side, and she dared to turn her eyes back on him. He really didn’t seem to be planning on making it easy for her to forget him, that was becoming quite clear. “But the ocean isn't always beautiful, I guess. Sometimes it's a killer. Cats, though... that could be a deal-breaker."

Ah, hell. Of course he would wink at her. 

Yep. 

Big trouble.

“Hey now, I love cats as much as the next girl, don’t get me wrong - but damn they’re unpredictable. You never really know where you stand with a cat, you know?” she said, shrugging a shoulder. “Same with the ocean, I guess. It’s beautiful and lovely and touches your soul one minute, then can swallow you up the next. I guess it’s the uncertainty that intrigues me. The chance.”

Ayla felt him pull her in another direction, and she couldn’t remember ever being so trusting of a practical stranger. He seemed to be more aware of her surroundings than she was herself, but granted, that didn’t take much. Ayla was more of a details person, not a big picture kind of gal. Luckily West seemed to have a reflex to keep her on her feet.

“Oh, we should probably get you checked in.“

She glanced up and around, having momentarily forgotten why they were there in the first place. The building was bustling with life, people moving in all directions with their heads buried in their phones, and Ayla could feel her pulse beginning to quicken for reasons that had nothing to do with who she was with. She truly did not like this place.

“Right. That.”

She chewed on her lip as she scanned her surroundings, doing her best to remind herself that she had no other choice. She could run, but she had a feeling he'd grab her before she hit the door. After a long moment of internal struggle, she found her feet and moved toward the front desk. 

The woman looked up at her as she approached, and Ayla automatically smiled. As she handed over her identification the woman grabbed her hand with both of hers and positively jostled her with excitement, but it didn’t phase her - it even made her laugh. She answered all of her questions (both about her personal life and medical history) as she watched her practically vibrate out of her chair, and then was directed to the waiting area with a promise that it wouldn’t be a long wait. 

She tried to ignore the other curious glances from all directions, but she could still feel them burning as she led West to two empty seats in the back of the room. 

“So, I’ve told - sorry,” she was cut off by the sensation of her phone buzzing in her purse, and she pulled it out, swiping open the screen. 

“Oh, good,” she mumbled after a moment of staring at it in dark amusement before holding it up for him to see. A grainy, sloppily shot photograph of the two of them holding hands and walking in Central Park. “We made TMZ.”

Ayla glanced at it once more, scanning through the words written under the picture before setting it face-down on the empty seat beside her. 

“So, I’ve told you what I’m afraid of,” she started again, making an attempt to return to normal conversation in order to calm her jitters. “What are you afraid of, West?”


notes : ///// holy crap that was long! this thread is just the cutest /////

[Deleted]

--- baby it's cold outside ---

tag: kara/ayla // words: 598 // notes: my poor bby

"I love cats as much as the next girl," Ayla insists.  West smirks, and then she continues.   "But damn they’re unpredictable."


West pauses.  He's never thought of them that way.  He thinks about his neighbour's cat - the one who was always in and out of everyone's home but his own, the one who offered a belly for rubbing and then clawed and hissed if you tried - unpredictable is certainly one word for it.  He thinks of big cats - he thinks of Panthers and his time in college, and the unpredictability of the draft.  Cats are unpredictable.  But so is life.  


“Same with the ocean, I guess. It’s beautiful and lovely and touches your soul one minute, then can swallow you up the next. I guess it’s the uncertainty that intrigues me. The chance.” Ayla shrugs, and West is caught off guard by her words.  Uncertainty is one of the things West fears most.  He has always been so sure of what he wants from life and what he'll do.  He has always been confident about his ability to succeed.  But the unpredictable nature of life happened, and suddenly West doesn't even know his left from right anymore.

He's lost in his own head again as Ayla checks herself in at the desk.  He's vaguely aware of the woman in the office barely restraining an excited screech as she recognises his new friend, and before he knows it, Ayla has turned the tables and is guiding him to a pair of empty chairs in the back corner of the room.  

She opens her mouth to speak, then checks her phone--

"Oh good, we've made TMZ." she holds out her phone to West and he squints at the blurred photograph of the two of them, hand in hand, in the park.  The caption is intentionally dramatic, written for no other purpose than to stir the pot, and he ignores it with a shrug.

"So, I've told you what I'm afraid of.  What are you afraid of, West?" He's almost forgotten the deal they had to answer questions.  He's in trouble now.  Is it acceptable for a grown man to be afraid of spiders or snakes?  He's too afraid to tell her his real fears - the irony isn't lost on him at all.  

"Hey, at least you look pretty," he answers with a smile.  He's stalling.  

"What am I afraid of...?  Uncertainty, I guess..." he trails off.  Without even thinking about it, the words begin to fall from his lips.  "I never had to worry about uncertainty as a kid.  I knew exactly what I was gonna do and I knew exactly how I was gonna get there.  I did everything right.  And then...


"And then something happened.  Or life happened.  I don't know what it was.  The one thing I was so sure of didn't happen, and suddenly I didn't know anything anymore." He pushes a hand through his hair and slouches in his seat.  He can't meet Ayla's eyes.  The intensity of the emotions immediately following the draft hits him all over again and the devil on his shoulder taunts him.  Failure.  Perhaps that's what West truly fears most of all.

"Sorry," he whispers.  "That got a little heavy."

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i'm not crying ur crying

[AYLA RIVERA]

"Hey, at least you look pretty," 

She smirked and shook her head, mystified by West’s reaction. He was avoiding her question, but she didn’t have to wait long for him to break and answer her in truth.

"What am I afraid of...? Uncertainty, I guess... I never had to worry about uncertainty as a kid. I knew exactly what I was gonna do and I knew exactly how I was gonna get there. I did everything right. And then… And then something happened. Or life happened. I don't know what it was. The one thing I was so sure of didn't happen, and suddenly I didn't know anything anymore."

Ayla nodded along as he spoke, but as West continued and it became very clear that her question had struck something deep within him, she found herself falling uncommonly still. Watching him sink into his chair, visibly defeated by the demons she had a feeling were constantly chasing him, it was all Ayla could do not to reach out and pull him in to her. Her sudden instinct to protect him - to shield him from everything that was bad about the world - confirmed within her what she already knew; that despite it all, no matter the trouble that would follow after today, she was glad to have met him. 

"Sorry," His whispered apology made her heart twist. "That got a little heavy."

“I don’t mind heavy,” she assured him. 

Drawing in a slow breath, she used the opportunity to align what she knew about him so far in her head. By now, she was sure that she understood that West’s dream to play football as a career hadn’t been realized even though it hadn’t exactly been confirmed (and the TMZ blurb helped piece it together). It seemed to weigh about as easily on his shoulders as an avalanche might have. 

“A lot of the time we can do everything right and it doesn’t matter,” she said, and wished desperately that she had something more to offer him. She believed her words, though, for she too had lived them in her own way. “But that’s bad luck, West, that’s not on you.”

If there was still a waiting area around them, full of people watching them or not, Ayla didn't notice. She only had eyes for him, and she had a feeling that he got that a lot.

"You'll find your game again," she said, offering a weak smile. She was trying to meet his eyes, but he seemed resistant. "I know I'm technically a stranger, but if it helps, I'm pretty certain of that."

Her hand twitched in her lap, and she had to force herself once more not to take his hand and wrap her fingers with his. The less she touched him, the easier it would be.

[Deleted]

--- baby it's cold outside ---

tag: kara/ayla // words: almost zero // notes: well this is short. sorry!

"I don't mind heavy," Ayla assures.  West closes his eyes for a long moment.  He can't take back what he said, however mortifying the following moments are.  When he opens his eyes, he hopes that the demons in his head are safely tucked away again.  Ayla is quiet and West can't help but worry that he's said too much.  


"We can do everything right and it doesn't matter.  That's bad luck, West, that's not on you."


West avoids Ayla's gaze.  He knows he ought to face the music - he's never been one for giving up - but he can't bring himself to meet his new friend's eyes.  He didn't need to look at her to know she was watching him intently, though - he could feel her gaze.


"You'll find your game again," she promises.  He cringes inwardly at the pun.  The game is all but over.  He has to learn the rules of a new game now, and he's still not entirely sure it's a game he enjoys playing.


He opens his mouth to speak a few times but no words come.  He blinks hard. 


"Look, Ayla, I--"


At the exact moment he finally finds his voice, Ayla's name is called from the front of the room.  He's not sure what he was about to say - and he's not sure if he'll ever know.

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[AYLA RIVERA]

Ayla watched West battle with himself, positively dumbfounded by her lack of knowledge on what to do now. What was the protocol here? When a guy you just met but have felt like you have known forever is suddenly spilling his darkest, heaviest secrets all over the place - how do you comfort him? She felt both helpless and able, an odd mix of emotions - she wanted to hug him, but she was way more touchy-feely than most people were. West seemed like the type who would thank her more for pretending it hadn’t happened in the first place. 

“Look, Ayla, I--"

She was waiting so intently for him to speak that she wrinkled her brow in confusion as he suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Following his gaze across the room, she quickly picked up on the fact that it must be her turn now. She was almost certain that her wait time had been expedited, judging by the looks she was getting from a few of the faces around her. 

“Damn,” she sighed dramatically, getting to her feet. It was probably easier if she just made a joke of things, what with her hunch that he would rather hide underground for fifty years than keep on that subject. “I’m sure you were super pumped to continue with that conversation, but that’s my cue.”

Gathering her belongings into her arms, she turned to him. “Hey - if you have somewhere to be you really don’t need to stick around on my behalf. I remember you saying something about a modelling convention?” Ayla grinned, a playful look in her eye. “But seriously, I can make it home.”

[Deleted]

--- baby it's cold outside ---

tag: kara/ayla // words: almost zero // notes: well this is short. sorry!

West stares at his hands, folded in his lap.  By the time he finally lifts his eyes, Ayla is pulling herself to her feet and preparing to see the doctor. 


"I'm sure you were super pumped to continue that conversation," she says, and West's attempt at a chuckle comes out as more of a heavy puff of breath.  "You really don't need to stick around on my behalf," Ayla continues.  She's gathering her belongings now.  "I can make it home."


West wants to run.  He wants to bolt out of the door, run back to his apartment, slam the door shut and never leave again.  In his mind's eye, he can see himself sliding down the wall, eyes closed, breaths quick and heavy.  His chest is tight as he forces himself to breathe slowly.  


But he meets Ayla's eyes again, finally, and he can't leave her here.  He's had enough head injuries to know that at the very least, someone will need to check on Ayla every couple of hours for a little while.  He contorts his face into what he hopes is a smile as he looks up at her.


"Go, get yourself checked out."


He'll be waiting when she's finished.

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[AYLA RIVERA]

“Go, get yourself checked out.”

Ayla paused as he finally met her eye and she immediately jumped in to trying to read his expression. There was certainly a shift in him, something he was now trying very hard to hide from her, and if she was being honest she was surprised he didn’t immediately take the ‘out’ she had given him. She managed a stiff nod and a weak smile as she turned her back on him, drawing in a slow breath to calm the nerves before soldiering on. 

There was little point to her stressing, but she did it anyway. West seemed pretty convinced that she’d done some proper damage to herself, and if that was true then she would almost certainly be told that she couldn’t go back to work for a while. She knew it was coming, so she really should have just accepted it as truth and moved on with it, but Ayla never made anything easy on herself. That was for sure. 

From the minute the doctor entered the examination room, Ayla was nervous and jittery. She tried to crack horrible jokes that fell flat if only to calm herself. All the questions, all the tests (vision, physical, cognitive) that he did on her, she performed to the best of her ability but knew that she hadn’t exactly passed when he informed her that she did, indeed, have a concussion and that she could most definitely not work. If her symptoms persisted or worsened she was meant to return immediately for scans, and she was only allowed to leave the building if she had someone to check in on her. All as expected, but still a bummer to have confirmed. 

Ayla was genuinely surprised to see Weston James still waiting for her after she finally wandered back in to the room. She tossed him a wink, still mid-conversation with the doctor as he led her to the front desk to handle the rest of the paperwork. It seemed there was no convincing the man to not ban her from filming, no matter how many compliments she paid him, and that was ultimately the end of it. A wad of printed-off papers full of information in hand, she made her way back over to her friend. 

“Hi,” she greeted him, folding up the pages and sticking them in her purse. “Looks like I’m on vacation for the next week. Want to go somewhere warm?” 

She heard the doctor call out something about no travel, and she sighed. 

“Whatever. Do you mind staying with me for a bit?” she asked him awkwardly, not really sure how she was supposed to expect a perfect stranger to look after her. But otherwise, she wasn’t allowed to leave. “It would just be until I can get a hold of my agent,” she explained, and then a small grin snuck onto her lips. “We could talk about our feelings again, if you want.”

[Deleted]

--- baby it's cold outside ---

tag: kara/ayla // words: // notes:

"Looks like I'm on vacation for the next week," a familiar voice cuts into West's thoughts.  He blinks hard.  He's been lost in old memories - his football glory days, some might say.  He looks up to see Ayla standing over him, clutching a stack of papers.  "Wanna go somewhere warm?"


At this moment in time, there is nothing West would like more than to escape to a tropical, deserted island and pretend the world begins and ends at the water's edge.  

He's vaguely paying attention as Ayla asks him to stay with her (he tries to nod, but he's not sure he can convince any part of his body to move) and as she explains it'd be a temporary arrangement until she can contact her agent.  West doesn't want to Ayla in the care of anyone else.  He doesn't trust anyone else.

"We could talk about our feelings again if you want."

He cracks a smile, finally, and snorts a small, slightly incredulous laugh.  Talking about is feelings is something he never wants to do - something he's never done before, and something he's surprised he has even been able to do.  He trusts a hand towards Ayla, ready to jump to his feet.


"I hope you've memorised where your apartment is now," he smiles.  It's a weak smile, but it's a smile nonetheless.  He is drained - emotionally, at least - but seeing Ayla return and knowing the doctor has agreed to release her is enough to give him a little fire back.  He rests a hand on her lower back as he guides her to the door, carefully avoiding the eyes of almost everyone in the waiting room.  

Outdoors again, he can finally breathe.  He breathes long and deep, holding the cold air in his lungs as long as he can before the pressure builds and he has to let it go.  He'll never know how to thank Ayla for the way she didn't outwardly judge him.  He's more grateful than even he realises for the comfortable silence as they walk, and he matches his breathing to his strides.


"So, weren't we asking questions?" he finally decides enough is enough.  They've walked two blocks in silence and the brunette beside him has a face that dances behind his eyelids every time he blinks.  He has to know more.


"What's your favourite colour?  No, no, that sucks.  Why are you in New York?"

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