Water In My Lungs

False Antagonist

Estelle threw every passing glance she could spare at the clock. Arriving before the sun was up, she was tired, Rory having since called in sick with a horrible stomach flu. Estelle was left to work a double shift. Selfishly, she found herself happy at the excuse to keep Connor from the house. Even if it meant sending the blonde on her way with Killian.

Whatever makes her the happiest.

The events of the night before had left them both shaky and in need of comfort. Estelle knew that she wasn't in the position to offer that consolement, with them both sharing a common sensitivity on the subject. She was relying solely on her first impression of Killian as a strong and steady man.

"I'm a good matchmaker." She hummed, laughing to herself. The thought of Connor setting off and meeting the man of her dreams sent light-hearted bubbles through Estelle's chest. She smiled.

With the absence of Rory, Alan had attempted a call to Naill halfway through the day. He asked his son to come in to spare Estelle the four extra hours in her work day.

"Can't, Da. I'm busy," came his only excuse. "I can't."

"I'm sorry, 'Stelle. I tried," Alan apologized as he hung up the phone. "He said he'd give you a ride home, though. I don't want you walking home in this weather alone." Estelle smiled at the offer, forcing out another laugh and a thank you. She sighed as Alan walked away at the thought of a twelve hour shift ending with Naill. The blonde would have refused the offer if it hadn't been for the trouble Alan had went through.

-

The end of the day rolled around, 5:04 p.m. Estelle closed up shop. She had sliced the day-old bread, bagging it with zipties from the far corner of the room. It had left quite the mess of crumbs, which she swept eagerly into the waste bin. Cleanliness was always preferred in a place of food in her opinion. The lithe girl pulled the wrapped dough she had weighed from the morning, shaping it onto wax paper and filling the metal baker's rack. She pushed it into the fridge, wiping her brow and removing her apron. The dishes had been done, piled neatly in the corner to dry. Estelle was ready to go home, hoping Connor would be there to deter any extra conversation Naill might try to instigate.

5:47 p.m.

"Is that boy not here yet?" Alan asked poking his head out of the office door.

"Nope." She tried not to snap in Alan's direction, her dislike for his son not overcoming her appreciation of the gesture.

"I'll give him a call." The moment he finished his sentence, the door chimed and in strolled Naill, leather jacket and tight jeans to match his overweening attitude.

"Alright, I'm here!" he announced, bee lining for Estelle. She shielded herself unnecessarily behind the counter. His normal cocky attitude seemed amplified and she couldn't help but be immediately uncomfortable.

With him ogling at her with red-ridden eyes, all she could think about was Connor walking through the door with Killian. Estelle was always more comfortable when she had her friend to jump to her defense, especially when she felt cornered.

"I'm ready when you are," Estelle said flatly, trying not to feed into his actions. She picked up her purse and jacket, slipping it over her shoulders.

"Oh, I am ready. Very ready," he said with a cackle. He swayed against the counter messily. She pursed her lips and stared at the floor, obviously someone drinks too much coffee at home.

"Naill," Alan called, "please be careful. I need you to come back after dropping her off and get me, I'll be done by then." Naill waved him off, nodding repeatedly, and waited for Estelle to open the door.