ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡*ೃ༄
*ੈ✩‧₊˚๓คՇƈɦﻝกց รƈคɼร⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 —

Marisol settled into her bedroom, immersed in the world of Outerbanks. The ambiance shifted when her phone emitted a distinct ping, drawing her attention. Curiosity etched across her face, she furrowed her brows upon seeing Sam's name on the screen. Swiftly, she reached for her phone, anticipation building as she unfolded the text message, momentarily diverting her focus from the on-screen drama to the digital exchange with Sam.

Sam: hey. i wanted to know if you would like to go to the hospital with me to see miguel?

Marisol: isn't miguel still in coma?

Sam: you didn't hear? hes awake.

Marisol's eyebrows shot up, her eyes widening in unexpected surprise. The revelation that Miguel was awake took her aback; no one had thought to inform her. Although Marisol and Miguel weren't exceptionally close, there was no underlying animosity between them. Reflecting this mixture of surprise and curiosity, she swiftly composed a text to Sam, agreeing to meet her at 12 pm and seeking more details about Miguel's awakening.

Marisol gracefully stood up, a sense of purpose guiding her steps as she readied herself to visit the hospital. Just as she was about to leave her room, Mila intercepted her with a casual yet meaningful "Hey, Mars." The simplicity of Mila's greeting prompted Marisol to turn around, her inquisitive gaze meeting Mila's. "Yeah?" Marisol responded, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and readiness for whatever Mila had to share or ask.

Mila's fingers played with the beads of her bracelet, a subtle sign of her nervousness. "Are you heading to see Miguel?" she asked, the question lingering in the air. Marisol, picking up on Mila's unease, raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. "Um... yeah? How did you get wind of that?" Marisol questioned, her curiosity growing, awaiting Mila's response.

The subtle sound of a tongue click escaped Mila as she began to share, "Anthony texted me, mentioning he's heading to the hospital with Sam..." Her sentence trailed off, leaving an unspoken implication in the air.

Marisol's lips curled into a teasing smirk, and with a calculated step forward, she placed her hand onto Mila's shoulder. "Of course, lil sis. Let's go see your boyfriend," Marisol remarked with a hint of cockiness. Swiftly turning on her heels, she wrapped her arm around Mila, nudging her to walk together. Mila stared up at Marisol, her expression carrying a mix of annoyance and determination. "I do not like him," Mila declared firmly, a hint of defiance in her eyes.

A laugh escaped Marisol's lips. "Sure..." she trailed off, her gaze shifting to Mila, who rolled her eyes in response.

Navigating the hospital corridors, they were directed to Miguel's room. Peering through the mirrored surface, they glimpsed Sam and Miguel sharing laughter, while Anthony stood in an awkward stance. Seizing the opportunity for a playful intervention, Marisol nudged Mila into the room, prompting a death stare from the young girl.  As Mila engaged in a brief conversation with Miguel, Marisol observed the dynamics unfold. Soon after, Mila shifted her focus to Anthony, initiating a conversation that held a mix of curiosity and perhaps a hint of reluctance.

As Marisol noticed Sam turning her head, she swiftly averted her gaze, sidestepping out of the window frame and unintentionally colliding with Hawk. Her surprised squeal filled the air as Hawk smoothly wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. In a hushed tone, he whispered, "Be careful, Mars. You almost fell back into a vending machine," his words carrying a touch of amusement at the unexpected encounter.

A flush of warmth envelops Marisol's face, painting it a bright, rosy red. Her gaze lifts to meet his eyes, only to notice a playful squint that, inexplicably, guides her attention downward to his smiling lips. Stammering slightly, she manages to say, "Uh- Uh, thanks," her words stumbling over the sudden surge of embarrassment, intensifying the already vivid red hue on her face.

Hawk cautiously peeks through the window, locking eyes with the intensity of Mila's gaze. The weight of her scrutinizing stare instills a genuine fear, a palpable reminder of her protective instincts—especially when it comes to Marisol's past hurt. Hawk, burdened by a daily sense of regret, grapples with the inexplicable reason behind Marisol's continued connection with him.

Opting to release Marisol, Hawk quietly brushes past her, creating a momentary, charged intersection with Sam and Anthony. As Marisol watches his departure, her expression holds a blend of shock and confusion, an attempt to make sense of the unexpected turn of events.

"Fuck off, red hair doof. Leave my sister alone," Anthony's sharp words cut through the air, carrying a protective fervor as he and Sam walk past. The weight of their collective sentiment hangs in the atmosphere, leaving Hawk to confront the consequences of his actions under the scrutiny of those who deeply care for Marisol.

A tinge of jealousy colored Sam's expression as she shot Marisol a glance while walking past. Marisol's eyebrows knitted together, her body momentarily frozen in the face of the unfolding confusion. Uncertain about the situation, she suddenly heard Hawk grunt, breaking her paralysis. In a swift motion, Marisol ran forward, reaching to grab her sister by the waist just in time to witness Hawk scrunching forward, a clear indication that Mila had targeted a sensitive area.

"Mila! What the hell?" Marisol scolded her sister, giving her a stern look that conveyed both surprise and disapproval at the unexpected turn of events.

Mila's defiant gaze meets her sister's, and she exclaims, "Let me go!" Her struggles intensify, a fervent attempt to break free from Marisol's grasp. Undeterred, Marisol, with a mix of apology and determination, shoots Hawk and Miguel an apologetic look. She then gently takes hold of Mila's arm, navigating the resistance, and guides her sister towards the elevator, a silent plea for understanding etched on her face.

Marisol presses the button, patiently waiting for the elevator door to open. Mila, visibly agitated, taps her foot impatiently until the door finally slides open. As they step into the empty elevator, Marisol sees it as a moment to address the recent events. "What on earth was all that about?" she exclaims, her expression a mix of frustration and confusion as she gazes at her sister, eager to understand the motivations behind Mila's actions.

Mila cast her sister a knowing look. "I told Hawk to stop talking to you because he hurt you," she stated bluntly, her words carrying a weight of concern. Marisol, taken aback, raised her eyebrows in surprise. "How do you know he kicked me into the computers?" she asked, unaware that Mila was referring to a different incident, the misunderstanding adding a layer of confusion to the conversation.

Mila clicked her tongue in a moment of realization. "I knew it! Despite the cold shoulder, those googly eyes of yours just won't quit, even when you think no one's watching," she chuckled dryly. Marisol's mouth dropped open in stunned surprise. "You little-" she began, the unfinished retort lingering in the air as Mila teased her about the evident contradiction in her actions.

Advancing playfully, Marisol extended a hand to shake her sister in a lighthearted, sisterly jest, but their playful moment was abruptly interrupted as the elevator unexpectedly came to a stop. In that sudden pause, Marisol and Mila exchanged a glance filled with shared concern. "What," the younger girl said with a worried undertone. Reacting swiftly, Mila rushed to the elevator door, clicking every button within reach in an attempt to remedy the unexpected halt, their playful atmosphere now overshadowed by a touch of anxiety.

Marisol stepped toward her sister, gently pulling her away from the elevator controls. "Hey, it's going to be okay. You clicked the help button, so we should be getting assistance soon," she reassured, her voice steady and calming. As Marisol looked into Mila's eyes, all she could discern was a profound sense of panic. It was a level of fear she had never witnessed in Mila before, especially considering it was just an elevator malfunction.

Marisol's attention was drawn to Mila, who slid down the elevator wall, curling into a ball as panic took hold. Hyperventilating, Mila's hand pressed firmly against her chest, her eyes wide and frantic, scanning the confined space. Tears streamed down Mila's face, and Marisol, feeling a surge of concern, nervously bit down on her bottom lip.

In an attempt to provide comfort, Marisol reached out, rubbing her sister's arm reassuringly. "It's gonna be okay, Mila. Breathe in and out slowly, think about positive things, okay? I'm going to call someone to help us through this," she said, the urgency in her voice contrasting with the soothing words as she took action to address the distressing situation.

Mila hummed softly, a delicate tune escaping her lips as she rocked back and forth, finding solace in the rhythmic motion. Meanwhile, Marisol straightened up, retrieving her phone from her pocket and checking the signal bars. A sigh of relief escaped her when she saw four bars, prompting a soft, muffled squeal.

Clicking the phone app, she hesitated briefly over 'hawk🦅' before pressing it. The phone rang, and Marisol anxiously brought it to her ear, her gaze nervously shifting between the phone and Mila. With her eyes closed, Mila continued her slow and deliberate breathing, creating a peaceful contrast to the tense situation unfolding in the confined space of the elevator.

Hawk's focus shifted immediately as Marisol's number lit up his phone screen, and he answered without hesitation. "Hey, what's up?" he inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Marisol swiftly relayed the situation, "Me and Mila are stuck in the elevator. It randomly stopped." Hawk's reaction was palpable as he perked up from the chair in Miguel's hospital room, concern evident in his expression. The unexpected turn of events pulled him into an urgent mode, ready to assist.

Miguel's gaze honed in on the distress evident in Hawk's expression. "What's happening, Hawk?" he probed, attentive to the phone call that Hawk had just concluded after assuring Marisol of his help. Hawk, still carrying the weight of concern, responded, "Marisol and her little sister are trapped in the elevator. Mila's having a panic attack." The urgency in Hawk's words mirrored the gravity of the situation, prompting Miguel to shift his focus toward the unfolding crisis.

Miguel's eyebrows shot up in a mix of surprise and concern. "Holy shit. How are you going to help?" he asked Hawk, seeking assurance in the face of the unexpected crisis. Hawk, a touch uncertain, shrugged his shoulders, responding, "I- I don't know," with a heavy exhale that conveyed the weight of the situation.

Exiting Miguel's room, Hawk turned his head toward the elevator, where a group of people was attempting to pry the doors open. His gaze shifted upward to the display, revealing the unsettling reality—they were stuck between floors 2 (where Miguel was) and Floor 3. The urgency of the situation hung in the air as Hawk contemplated the best course of action.

Determined, Hawk jogged forward, addressing the maintenance worker with urgency. "Excuse me, sir. You'll have to use the stairs," the worker insisted. Ignoring the instruction, Hawk relied on his strength, inserting his fingers between the stubborn doors, grunting with exertion. Struggling to open them, he managed to create a slight gap. "Help!" he urgently yelled at the maintenance men, who promptly joined in the effort, successfully widening the opening.

Marisol leaned over, looking down at Hawk through the now-open gap, a mix of concern and disbelief evident on her face. "Are you crazy!? You could have hurt yourself. What you just did is straight out of a show, and honestly, why am I saying this, it feels super cringeworthy," she exclaimed, her words a blend of worry and an unexpected critique of Hawk's impulsive actions.

Hawk shot her a glare that cut through the tension. "Okay, shut up. I helped you. Now grab my hand," he stated coldly, his nostrils flaring in irritation, a reaction that elicited a chuckle from her despite the gravity of the situation. Kneeling down, she reached for his hand, and with a swift move, she jumped over the sizable gap. Hawk, quick to react, grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close in a protective stance.

She exhaled, the rush of the moment palpable as she stood beside him, looking up at Mila. "Mila, you're gonna be okay! Come on, just don't look down," she yelled up, her voice carrying a mix of reassurance and encouragement as she tried to provide comfort to Mila amidst the precarious circumstances.

In a state of panic, Mila couldn't resist looking down, causing her to take a step back. "No! I'd rather stay in here," she exclaimed, a small sob escaping her lips. Marisol exchanged a concerned glance with Hawk, who sighed in response.

"Mila, I know you don't like me, but come on, it's me, Eli. The guy who used to play hide-n-seek with you and Marisol? The guy who always came over?" Hawk attempted to reassure her, but Mila responded by clenching her fists by her side, her glare directed straight at him. The tension in the confined space heightened as they grappled with the predicament and Mila's reluctance to move forward.

A soft smile played on Marisol's lips as she glanced at Hawk. Mila's discerning eyes couldn't hide the lingering feelings Hawk harbored for Marisol. It became clear that Hawk's actions were not driven by malice, but rather an unintended consequence of complex emotions.

Exhaling, Mila unclenched her fists, signaling a tentative acceptance of the situation. With a hesitant but determined step forward, she reached for Marisol's outstretched hand. Leaning into the gesture, Mila grabbed it, a yelp escaping her as she leaped forward. Marisol, quick to react, pulled Mila into a brief but reassuring hug. As they separated, taking a collective step back, there lingered a moment of shared relief in the confined space—a fragile bridge built over the unexpected challenges they faced.

Marisol embraced Mila tightly, creating a poignant scene that drew applause and the attention of onlookers filming the unfolding emotional moment. Amidst the clapping, Hawk grinned, taking in the sight of Marisol and Mila, their tears reflecting a mix of release and gratitude.

Marisol, still holding Mila close, provided comforting gestures by rubbing her back. In a quiet acknowledgment, she mouthed a heartfelt "Thank you" to Hawk. His response was a wave of his hand in her direction, a silent exchange that spoke volumes in the aftermath of the intense elevator ordeal.

Having left Mila at home, Marisol's immediate destination was the Juvenile Detention Center upon learning that Robby Keene was now in juvie. As she entered the facility, Marisol went through the check-in process and followed the given directions to the back, finding a seat at a small table to await the meeting.

In the quiet waiting area, Marisol observed the surroundings until Robby joined her within the next few minutes. He took a seat, a palpable guilt evident in his expression. "Are you okay? I heard what happened," Robby asked, his tone carrying both concern and a desire to understand the situation.

Amidst a soft chuckle, she posed the question, "Which one? Me banging my head on the computers and needing stitches or the elevator?" Robby, raising an eyebrow, responded with a simple "Both."

"Well, the stitches are gonna be taken out in two weeks, but I still get light-headed and get headaches," she explained. Shifting the focus to the elevator incident, she continued, "As for the elevator thing, I'm okay, but Mila is most certainly not. She had a panic attack and is definitely traumatized." The details unfolded in the dialogue, painting a vivid picture of the recent challenges Marisol had faced and the impact it had on those around her.

A frown played on Robby's lips. "Jeez, I'm sorry," he exhaled, expressing remorse for Marisol's recent ordeals. In response, Marisol shrugged nonchalantly, downplaying the impact. Shifting the focus, she asked, "What about you? How's it going in here?" Her gesture encompassed the room, and she pointed to his bruised eye.

Robby's gaze dropped with a trace of guilt. "Some guy punched me; you don't need to worry about it," he admitted, revealing a challenging aspect of his own experiences within the juvenile detention center. The exchange reflected a mutual concern for each other, navigating their respective challenges with a shared understanding.

Marisol chuckled. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Rob," she murmured teasingly. Robby, rolling his eyes, snapped, "Why are you here?" She raised an eyebrow, settling back in her chair with arms crossed. "You're my cousin! I find out you're in juvie; I'm gonna come check on you," she asserted, emphasizing the familial bond that brought her to his side.

A hint of tension lingered as Robby narrowed his eyes. "Step-cousin," he corrected with a scoff under his breath. Marisol, audibly huffing, rose to her feet. "Fine, just know I care about you, Rob," she snapped, her words carrying a mix of frustration and genuine concern. With that, she stormed out of the room, leaving the atmosphere charged with unresolved emotions.

Marisol hurriedly arrived home, the urgency in Mila's voice slicing through the air. "Marisol! I need help!" Mila's cry resonated from the bathroom. Without hesitation, Marisol bolted towards the source of the call, reaching the bathroom door. Her attempts to open it, however, were met with resistance – the door was locked. "Mils, the door is locked," she called out, the concern in her voice heightening as she faced the obstacle, ready to assist Mila.

Mila gulped, her eyes darting nervously between the bloodstain and the closed door. "I got my period," she announced to Marisol. The revelation hung in the air, and Marisol's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, uhm, there are some pads in the cabinets. I'll guide you through it," Marisol responded, a mixture of empathy and reassurance in her tone. As Mila faced this new experience, Marisol stepped into the role of a supportive guide, ready to assist her younger sister.

As noises emanated from behind the bathroom door, Mila sought guidance. "Okay, how do I put this on my underwear?" she asked. Marisol, on the other side of the door, began her instructions. "Alright, so make sure the pad is securely stuck to the underwear. There's a strip on the back that you need to peel off. Once that's done, the wings have a wrap too; position them on the outside of the underwear. Hopefully, that's a clear enough explanation," Marisol patiently conveyed, her voice carrying a mix of practicality and understanding as she guided Mila through this new experience.

As Marisol heard additional noises, the bathroom door opened, and Mila peered up at her. "My stomach hurts," Mila quietly shared. Marisol's expression shifted to a concerned frown as she reached out, gently rubbing her sister's back. "Yeah, that's gonna happen for a few days. Go get some Advil or Tylenol," she advised, combining practicality with a touch of empathy in response to Mila's discomfort. The scene unfolded with a sense of understanding and support in the face of new experiences.

The doorbell rang, prompting Marisol to make her way toward the door. As she opened it, Hawk stood on the other side. "Hey," she greeted, a hint of nonchalance in her tone. Hawk, with a request in his eyes, asked, "Can we talk?" Marisol nodded in agreement.

"Mila, I'm gonna be outside for a few minutes!" she called to her younger sister before stepping out. The transition from indoors to the outside hinted at a conversation carrying weight, setting the stage for a more private and potentially meaningful exchange between Marisol and Hawk.

The porch stairs provided a contemplative perch as Marisol and Hawk sat in a weighty silence. Breaking the quietude, Marisol inquired, "So... what did you want to say?" Hawk's gaze met hers as he replied, "Well, I wanted to see how everything was going."

Marisol sighed, the weight of recent events evident in her voice. "Well, Mila is pretty traumatized. I'm taking a guess she's gonna be very terrified of elevators now. So, yeah," she shared, her words carrying a mix of concern and a touch of resignation, painting a more detailed picture of the aftermath of their shared experience.

Hawk nodded thoughtfully. "Well, how are you doing?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow. Marisol responded with a casual shrug. "Better than I should be. I feel bad because I knew we would be okay, but I understand her anxiety from being stuck in an elevator," she ranted, her words carrying a nuanced blend of relief and empathy. The conversation on the porch stairs unfolded, revealing layers of emotions and reflections on the recent experience.

Hawk pursed his lips into a thin line, his head nodding upwards in observation. "I see you got a new car. Jeep Ranger?" he commented, causing Marisol to look over. "Yeah, my dad bought it for me after I got out of the hospital," she chuckled slightly. Hawk scratched the back of his neck. "That's cool, lavender purple," he said, giving her an awkward look.

Amidst the uncertainty of their conversation, Marisol turned back to Hawk, her gaze locking onto his eyes. "You know, I really like your blue eyes..." she trailed off, her eyes flickering down to his lips. The moment on the porch stairs held a subtle tension, as unspoken sentiments lingered in the air.

Hawk's gaze subtly descended to Marisol's lips, the proximity between them narrowing until their lips were mere inches away. The charged moment hung in the air, poised on the brink of something more, only to be abruptly disrupted by Mila's urgent interruption. "Marisol, I can't find the Advil!" Mila's voice echoed through the scene, pulling their attention away.

A sigh of frustration escaped from Marisol's lips. "Seriously, Mila—" she began, but before she could finish, Hawk interjected. "I'll see you later, Mars," he said bluntly, standing up and briskly walking away.

Marisol shot Mila a glare, a mix of irritation and disappointment etched on her face. She retreated into the house, heading to the kitchen. Holding up the Advil with a sarcastic smile, she handed it to Mila, only to storm off to her room, leaving behind a trail of unresolved tension in the atmosphere.

—

ash speaks!

i love this book sm. i like how my writing has improved a lot!! i hope you enjoyed this chapter<33