callmeemily: ([bad day] wtf.)
This is third date that Raleigh had been on in the last week. It's the third, including one where the guy was sort of skeezy and Raleigh was definitely never seeing him again, one that was literally the most boring man alive that Joel set her up on... and now, this.

This, where Raleigh's leaning against the bar with a drink in her hand, looking up at the very handsome guy who actually wrote her a decent message on OKCupid. His name was Richard, he was a Pieces, was here because he wanted to get away from the city, he was thinking about buying a house on the water, he was a writer - all normal, touristy things that she's used too.

He declined to mention that he's reporting on the Coombs, and he's found another side story.  )
callmeemily: ([...] buh?)
She blames Les, really.

Later, she might admit it, but right now? Right now Raleigh's doing something really weird.

She's chasing down a cat.

"C'mon," she coaxes, making kissy noises as she peers under the dock, her hand on the weathered wood so she can steady herself. "C'mon, I'm not going to hurt you."

There was something wrong with it - maybe it got into a fight or something, but all Raleigh can think is that Les said sometimes they were people, and it's really stupid and she's being really stupid, but the cat - skinny and brown striped - was hurt and it could be people, although she suspects now that it's hiding under the dock with it's head cocked oddly that it's not.

But now she's committed. "C'mon, sweetheart, we've got to get you to a vet." Even though she didn't know if there was a vet, because she had no pets. She couldn't really get down and crawl under the dock, but she crouched low, reaching out her hand to it even if she looked - and sounded, to anyone walking by - crazy.

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Raleigh Harper / Emily Watkins

January 2022

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