He has so many questions that he doesn't even know where the hell to begin. Why did she leave? Why is she back? Right, so it turns out he's got two very big questions, and he's prepared not to get any especially satisfactory answers right here and now but he thinks she better damn well agree that he deserves them.
"Good choice," he repeats, huffing a humorless laugh with a shake of his head. "You been making a lot of those the past few years?" It's a little harsher than he'd really meant to be, at least out loud, but the longer they stand here staring at each other, the more pissed off he gets. Four years, four fucking years without a goddamn word, and here she is, looking as beautiful and flawless as ever, and he really doesn't think it's fair. He'd always imagined that if he saw her again, she'd look completely different, so different that he'd have to do a double take to make sure it's her, but he realizes now that he'll always know. He'd let go of so much of what had made Shea Cooper the Coop everyone back in Siren Cove had been so familiar with, and he'd done it for her. She hadn't asked for it, she hadn't pushed him to change, he'd wanted to because he'd been so in love with her.
It's beyond frustrating to think that maybe it's not as much of a past tense kind of thing as he'd thought. Coop had been done, he'd washed his hands of it all. He's fucked half this town, and he's never once felt guilty about it because there's no guilt in enjoying his life, but he thinks of what it had been like to roll over in the morning and wraps his arms around the waist of the same person every morning or how incredible it had been to just stand in their kitchen and cook a meal together. Simple things, really, things that he can do now with anyone but it isn't the same. Nothing's the same, and it makes him let out a heavy sigh.
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"Good choice," he repeats, huffing a humorless laugh with a shake of his head. "You been making a lot of those the past few years?" It's a little harsher than he'd really meant to be, at least out loud, but the longer they stand here staring at each other, the more pissed off he gets. Four years, four fucking years without a goddamn word, and here she is, looking as beautiful and flawless as ever, and he really doesn't think it's fair. He'd always imagined that if he saw her again, she'd look completely different, so different that he'd have to do a double take to make sure it's her, but he realizes now that he'll always know. He'd let go of so much of what had made Shea Cooper the Coop everyone back in Siren Cove had been so familiar with, and he'd done it for her. She hadn't asked for it, she hadn't pushed him to change, he'd wanted to because he'd been so in love with her.
It's beyond frustrating to think that maybe it's not as much of a past tense kind of thing as he'd thought. Coop had been done, he'd washed his hands of it all. He's fucked half this town, and he's never once felt guilty about it because there's no guilt in enjoying his life, but he thinks of what it had been like to roll over in the morning and wraps his arms around the waist of the same person every morning or how incredible it had been to just stand in their kitchen and cook a meal together. Simple things, really, things that he can do now with anyone but it isn't the same. Nothing's the same, and it makes him let out a heavy sigh.
"Sylvie, what the hell are you doing here?"