♪.| zєρнуя
Nothing about them was sudden. She knew she was falling, falling deep and hard. She fell in love slowly, passionately, and gracefully.
To him, it was like slipping into the depths of the deep end, not knowing where he'll end up but also n...
The Reservation is a relatively small town, not a lot of visitors. It was nothing more than a tiny dot on the map of Washington, just slightly hidden by Forks, the neighboring town.
Everyone knows everyone there. Not a day goes by that Alyson dosen't know the customers coming into her father's small shop. She works, greets the person, has a small conversation, and then onto the next.
It was repetitive, but Aly didn't mind.
Her father, Milo, was a Spanish teacher at the high school. He was a kind soul, baking for Alyson whenever her friends decide to drop by.
Nobody ever pictures the father as the baker, the caregiver. In fact, 15 years ago Milo would've laughed at the recipe for peanut butter hershey kisses, Alyson's favorite. The loss of his wife, Marilyn, had broken him. It left Milo with no other purpose than taking care of his newborn daughter.
His purpose was to make sure Alyson grew up happy, loved, and safe. And if he had to own a small shop and put on a pink apron, then so be it.
The Montoya family, small, strange, and loving.
Just like any other night, Aly sat on the stool behind the counter. Her head bobbed to the music that played faintly in the background. Most of the customers stop coming this late at night, only a few stragglers and emergency situations found their way inside.
Her fingers slowly tapped along to the beat of a random slow song. Her feet dangled back and fourth below her. Aly closed her eyes briefly, starting to move her shoulders, too. The girl snapped her eyes open, turning the volume up.
Eventually, Aly was preforming a shameless concert for nobody, dancing wildly in circles. If only she heard the door open, then maybe things would have been different. If only her father had gotten the bell fixed instead of putting it off until the last minute. Then again, fate does work in mysterious ways.
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A m e l i a Z a d r o As A l y s o n M o n t o y a
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K i o w a G o r d o n As E m b r y C a l l
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♪bonus♪
D a v i d C a s t a n é d a As M i l o M o n t o y a
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K i e r n a n S h i p k a As M e l o n i e D a n v e r s
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