these days. [tag; hal]

tonight, we've got to live for these days
tonight, tonight we'll remember these days.

Valentine's Daaay!

Ruari was a mess. She usually was but this was for a good reason; Hal was coming over. It was a special day and she wanted it to be special. She had him back and she hoped this time, it was for keeps. After declaring her love for him at his family's Christmas party, she still felt a bit awkward. After all, he was practically a stranger to her now. Eight years had passed and she felt like she needed to get to know him all over again but it didn't seem to matter. He seemed to feel the same way and honestly? She felt he was her soul mate.

She was determined to make their relationship work this time, if he seriously wanted to date her. Ruari realised her mistakes. She'd been young and flippant, dismissive and flighty but she couldn't lose him. Not again. The last time they'd broken up, it had left a huge hole in her heart. It had even altered her personality. It was such a blow, she'd still not gotten over it. In school, she'd fallen for Hal Trickett and Hell, she'd fallen hard. But he'd walked back into her life.

A tall blonde was in her small kitchen, her small but lovely apartment was littered in candles. All white. It cast the eccentric colour scheme into a soft, comfortable glow. She'd hung some white fairy lights on her mantelpiece, giving a lovely whimsical fairy tale-esque feel to her home. A bright assortment of cushions littered her battered but amazingly comfortable pea green sofa. There was a bottle of wine open on her coffee table and two wine glasses ready. She didn't know what he preferred so she'd bought red, white and rose. And beer. Who knew what his tipple was now?

The dressmaker's apartment was filled with a warm and delicious aroma. It actually surprised Ruari how nice it did actually smell. Dash usually did most of the cooking but they'd been taking cooking classes together. Ruari wanted to recreate the dinner she'd made for Hal years ago but perhaps without the food poisoning. On the menu was bacon wrapped chicken breast stuffed with mozzarella cheese, herb crusted roast potatoes and green beans. For dessert, Ruari had made heart shaped shortbread biscuits. They'd caught a little around the edges and the red icing was a little smudged but all in all, she'd come on leaps and bounds for sure.

"Oh crap." Opening the oven door, Ruari winced as a cloud of hot air hit her in the face. With watering eyes, she grabbed a tea towel to pull out of the tray and pick up the meat thermometer she'd bought. Poking into the thickest part of the chicken breast, she watched the juices run clear before checking the reading; perfect. A few degrees over. Over was better than under. Running behind schedule, she let the towel slip and her finger touched the red hot tray, causing her to let out a howl of pain. "Eeee!" She squeaked as she angrily slammed the oven door and hopped on the spot, grunting in pain as she sucked on her finger before sticking it under the cold water tap. She could see the red blister forming before her very eyes. Shit.

Ruari bumbled around the kitchen, sucking her sore finger as she found her best plates (rather the ones without any chips on them) and she sighed. Dressed in a beautiful long flowy chiffon skirt, she'd paired it with a coffee coloured sweater that was cropped in a way that artfully showed just a hint of her toned stomach. Should she have dressed up formally? Worn red? She frowned. Nah. She needed Hal to remember why he'd fallen in love with her once before. Trying to be someone she wasn't just wouldn't help her cause. She needed him to remember. He didn't seem to mind her bright prints and her floral perfume years ago.

Right! Chicken was cooking, beans were boiling, candles were lit. Done. Hal was due at eight and she wondered if he'd taken the night off work. He shouldn't have done. If he was busy, they could have re-scheduled. He needn't have changed his plans for her but she was secretly thrilled he'd made time to see her tonight. He must be busy and tired. She wasn't presumptive to think that he might want to spend the night but she'd washed and ironed the sheets, bought new pillows and given her bedroom a damned good clean. She hoped he'd stay. She missed him. She'd asked him to meet her there but not told him that she'd be cooking dinner. It was a surprise! He had ages to get here yet.

Then there was the gift. What did you get someone for Valentine's Day when you've been dating for a month? It was kind of tricky. Hal was bookish and she loved it but what kind of books? She wanted to be romantic and thoughtful but what could she do? Combining her personality and something fun, she'd made him a bunch of little hearts. They had taken her hours. Lots of cutting and gluing and wiring but each little heart had something written about Hal that she loved on the back of them. She loved everything about him so choosing a handful was hard. It was her take on a dozen red roses. He got a dozen love hearts instead.

Taking a step back, Ruari ruffled her long blonde curls, trying not to smudge her holiday make up. It was just something fun, she hoped it'd make him laugh if anything. Ruari rarely wore any make up but tonight, she needed to up her game. Turning her head, she sniffed the air. Something was burning. "The potatoes!" The dress maker wailed, turning on her heel and padding barefoot into the kitchen and yanking open the oven, letting a cloud of white smoke engulf her and the apartment. In the melee, she hadn't heard a knock at the door.

Ever since their break-up, Hal had stopped taking Valentine’s Day really seriously. There were girls that he’d occasionally take to dinner, maybe buy some flowers and a bottle of wine for, but no one that he was willing to bend over backwards for. He’d been so disinterested in one of his exes that he’d even declined her offer to spend Valentine’s night at her flat, instead choosing to remain cooped up in his office with paperwork and a mug of bitter cold black coffee as his only company.

With Ruari, things had been different. And even now they still were. She was different. She was magnetic, and he was completely enamoured with her. It could be seen in the stupid persistent grin on his face as of late, by his extreme willingness to pull himself out of bed first thing on a Saturday morning just to meet her for coffee, and currently by the way he strode up the street, gifts in hand.

Hal was normally a serious man and this showed in his usual pensive expression, but as he thought of the events ahead of him, he couldn’t remove the smile from his face. He hoped she’d be happy with what he brought, despite the fact that he had been uncertain about what to get when first choosing a gift. They’d been insistent on taking things slow, Hal especially. So, he’d originally opted not to get something too extravagant, afraid of possibly pushing her away. The first thing he purchased was a nice scarf to replace the old one he’d gotten her in school. He figured it would be symbolic of their fresh start. But that hadn’t felt like enough, and it was through idle conversation with a co-worker that he’d learned of the concept of a promise ring. It was a little cheesy, but it seemed to be fitting of their current situation. Looking at the little box in his hand, he just hoped the word ‘ring’ wouldn’t send her running in the opposite direction.

He just wanted to prove that he was here to stay this time — in it for the long haul.

He was getting closer to her flat and was right on time. She hadn’t explicitly stated it because she probably intended to surprise him, but Hal Trickett knew Ruari Regan well enough to know that she was probably busying herself a great deal today. He could just imagine her, dashing from one end of the kitchen to the next, trying not to burn something that was probably already charred. As the scene flowed through his head, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Even if the meal she produced was extremely overcooked, or incredibly undercooked, he would force himself to stomach it all and polish off his plate with a smile on his face. She worked hard to make him happy, and he appreciated the effort.

As he neared the door he heard the clanging of pots and pans and could only smile to himself. A smoky scent touched his nostrils, and the faintest echo of a swear could be heard. Not surprisingly, his assumption was proving to be correct so far.

Placing the smaller of the gift boxes into his pocket, he then knocked on the door. His only response was the strong putrid scent of smoke and, beginning to grow a little worried, he let go of his manners and allowed himself in. He heard Ruari before he saw her, and the man waved some smoke out of his face with his free hand as he made his way into the kitchen. Crouched in front of the oven with a very distraught expression on her face was Ruari Regan. Placing the presents on a counter, Hal moved towards her and knelt down beside her.

“Do you need any help?” he asked, placing a hand around her shoulder and giving a soft squeeze. “Don’t be upset.” He wasn’t really sure of what else to say, but he truly wanted to make her feel better. The state of the kitchen was enough to prove that she’d been working hard since sun up.

Returning to a standing position, Hal offered a hand to help Ruari up, then pulled her into a quick hug. “I’m sure it’s still edible,” he offered, unaware that his words perhaps weren’t the best fit for the situation. Releasing her from his hold, he then walked around the kitchen and dining room, looking at everything else she had prepared before turning to face her with a warm smile. “This looks great,” he assured her, walking towards her again to pull her into another embrace. “Thank you.”

This bastard bloody potatoes! They had been the bane of her life the last time she'd tried to cook something for him. An Irish woman? Unable to prepare a potato? The entire world would cease to exist. Flapping her hands, she spun in a circle and had to stop because she felt dizzy. Tripping, she hastily opened up the kitchen window…and the living room window, letting in the frozen February air into a cosy little flat. Being cold was fine as long as the acrid smell went away as soon as possible.

Gosh, she was such a screw up. She really should have booked somewhere nice and intimate and not have to worry about cooking but that wasn't her. Ruari liked to make things. She very rarely bought her loved ones presents, she much preferred to get creative. Dresses, shirts, ties, it didn't matter. She made her own cards and her own wrapping paper. It wasn't a cost cutting exercise, she just wanted every part of her gift to be filled with love. Hence why she was trying to cook Hal dinner. Dash had made her take cooking lessons, she'd improved tenfold. It was just the execution that she was finding a bit tricky?

She was so screwed.

Coughing, the tall blonde wrinkled her nose in distaste as she flapped her hands in front of her face. Hastily, she pulled the chicken out and left it to rest. Succulent and still wrapped up nicely, she closed her eyes and said a quick little prayer to the cooking gods. It had to be perfect. It needed to be perfect. Ruari was so desperate for her first Valentine's Day to be perfect. She was committed to Hal and to this relationship and she wanted it to go smoothly. She was so eager for everything to be perfect and she was getting more and more upset with every passing second.

"You are so stupid," she chided herself, feeling her lower lip wobble as she saddened. Why couldn't she be one of those women with perfect hair who made perfect meals? Because Ruari wasn't perfect. She was offbeat and kooky and not the least bit normal. She hadn't even heard Hal enter her apartment. Feeling an arm around her shoulder, she squinted through the smoke.

"This wasn't meant to happen," she lamented, her slender shoulders slumping in defeat as she automatically flopped against his side for comfort. Hal wasn't her security blanket but he was her protection. She hated not speaking to him for so many years. She'd encountered so many things where she'd just wanted him to hold her, stroke her hair and tell her she was going to be fine. He was warm, both emotionally and physically. They fit together so well. His hugs were strong and affectionate and now that she had him back, she couldn't lose him again.

Don't be upset? She rested her chin on his shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent as she sighed. Burned potatoes? Who actually cared? She hoped he wouldn't be mad if they had to order Chinese take out. As he stood, she made a quick grasp for his hand. He had to kneel back down again. Automatically, she slid a warm palm into his and allowed him to haul her up, wasting no time in flinging her arms around his neck and squeezing him tight.

Taking a step backwards, she offered him a sparkling grin as she laughed, affectionately sliding her palms down his shoulders to his wrists. "Edible is exactly what I was going for," she said with a shrug as she looked at her potatoes with a frown. "I'm such a mess," she told him with wide eyes, her hands going to her hair. "I'm not even dressed," she blabbered. Well, she was dressed but not in what she wanted to wear. There was a pretty red dress hanging in her bedroom and she was standing in front of her boyfriend, on Valentine's Day, in a slouchy jumper and chiffon skirt. She'd really stuffed up.


Letting him go, she smiled as Hal looked around. Ruari liked to watch him. So tall and so proud, he was like a panther. Once his back was turned, she grabbed the potatoes and poked them, managing to find a few that looked…fairly okay? More than edible, really. Chewing on her lower lip, she tilted her head curiously. Hal seemed to fill up her apartment with his presence and seeing him in her living room made her realise that she'd like him to stay there. With her. Maybe they could snuggle on the sofa or something.

Two hugs in one day? She stepped into his embrace and snuggled him quickly. "You're welcome," she told him with a sunny smile as she looked into his handsome face. Reaching out her left hand, she cupped his cheek, leaned in and kissed him softly. "Happy Valentine's Day," she whispered. "I'm sorry we missed so many," she said with a gentle smile. It was fine, though. The past was the past. They could plan for the future now. Together. Not miles apart, not broken
hearted.



"Sit, sit!" She said suddenly, shooing him to the table before she kissed him again, turning in an explosion of colour and lavender scented perfume. Grabbing mismatched plates, she plated up. The vegetables were well cooked, the chicken looked great as she took time picking through the potatoes, giving Hal the best ones (obviously.) It looked….pretty good, actually. So much better than the last time. Carrying them over, she placed them down and set about uncorking the wine with her teeth. You could take the girl out of Dublin but you couldn't take Dublin out of the girl.

About to pour him some, she paused. "Would you prefer beer? Or juice? Red wine?" She asked Hal anxiously, not at all sure what he drank now. The dinner wasn't perfect but it was real. That in itself was perfect. All of a sudden, she laughed. High and clear. She grinned and shook her head before groaning. "I'm so not domesticated. Urgh."

The disappointment was bright in her eyes and it made Hal feel useless. He’d never been the best at determining the best way to comfort someone when they were upset. As his field of work suggested, he had a preference for the clinical as opposed to the emotional. He could easily determine the cure for a bad case of spattergroit; it was tucked away in his brain and could erupt from his lips in milliseconds if someone were to ask him about it. But a cure for sadness? Even with the magic and the endless possibilities that seemed to surround them, this notion seemed ludicrous and improbable. Instinctively, he pulled her in closer.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he echoed, the corners of his lips quirking once they’d separated. He was also sorry that they’d missed so much. There was so much lost time, and he had spent it all wading – stuck in a sea of rough waves, trying to keep afloat. Being with Ruari was what finally made him feel steady. He silently promised himself that they would make up for it all, replace the days they had missed with the days to come.

Following her instructions, Hal made his way to the table, pulled out a chair, and took a seat. Sitting still with nothing to do but wring his hands and observe made him completely aware of everything that was occurring around him in that moment. He watched a pendulum swinging back and forth like a vine, he could hear the faint mewing of a cat and the distinctively louder barking that accompanied it, he noticed the rattling of plates, and he felt like he could see the air around him even though he knew it was impossible. Everything was… alive. Brilliantly animated, and he felt suddenly euphoric to be a part of it all. Hal inhaled and exhaled deeply.

The scent of food hit, informing him that Ruari was near even better than the sound of her footsteps did. Internally, he was surprised by how good everything looked – how, in spite of all her fears, the food seemed to have turned out well. On the outside, he remained composed, sporting a grin to show his appreciation. This whole thing took him back. He could vividly recall the first time Ruari had attempted to cook for him, and what a hilarious disaster it had been. Despite having to find something else to eat in the end, they’d still had an amazing time together.

“This looks amazing,” he said genuinely, an appreciative look crossing his features. “Thank you. You’ve outdone yourself.” He knew that it could be jested that it wasn’t that hard, for Ruari’s cooking skills were far beneath her sewing abilities, but Hal was truly in awe. The lingering thought that she’d done this all for him made his chest pang. ”Thank you,” he repeated. He was going to eat it all. Even if it killed him.

Shaking his head at her antsiness, Hal stood up and took the bottle from her hands, then poured the liquid into their glasses himself. “The wine is fine,” he assured her with a smirk, resting the bottle on the table. He pulled out a chair for her, as if requesting that she take a seat. Once she was sat beside him, he erupted into laughter of his own at her last statement.

Once the echoes of their chuckles had vacated the room, he remembered the gift in his back pocket and wondered when it would be appropriate to give it to her. Should he wait until the end of the night? Blue eyes flickered to her smiling face and he decided that he would wait. Hopefully it would be the perfect end to a perfect night.

Grabbing a fork, he wasted no time tasting everything. He could feel her gaze on him, knew she was waiting for a reaction as she always had before. No matter what, he would feign joy, but today he did not have to. Everything was honestly pretty good – even the scorched potatoes. Swallowing, Hal offered her a large grin because he knew it was what she wanted to see, and continued to polish his place. “This is delicious.”

Everything had gone tits up. To be frank, most things involving Ruari didn't go too smoothly. This day had been meticulously planned. She'd even asked her mum to come over and help her set things up. Despite it only being dinner, it was Valentine's Day. Their Valentine's Day. To her, this signalled a fresh start. It was more a sentimental thing. She'd planned on revisiting an old date and making it better with better food and better memories. She was almost twenty four and if she couldn't cook a chicken by now, she might as well just give up.

This wasn't just dinner. This was their new beginning.

She knew she was being stupid and in the grand scheme of things, one little dinner wouldn't make or break them but she was so determined for perfection. She needed this. Too much time had gone and she just wanted to make him proud. Despite his praise and reassurances, she was trying so hard not to burst into tears. She'd had lessons from Nanna Regan on how to make the perfect roast potatoes. Ruari was very unconventional but very traditional when it came to certain things. Like dinner.

Turning to face him, she chewed on a full lower lip. "Really?" She asked, sounding unconvinced as she wrung her pale hands together anxiously. Was he lying? It was his duty as her boyfriend to lie and say stuff like her cooking was good and no, she did not look fat in those jeans. At least his grin didn't look pained or forced.

His strong hands around her shaking ones made her blink, thankful that he'd taken charge and poured the wine because she would have dropped it. Didn't red wine go with beef and white wine go with fish and chicken? Ruari had gone to a fancy wine shop and the very nice man had taken the time to explain what wine complimented each course and she'd bought them but really, she usually went to the nearest off licence and bought the cheapest bottle of plonk, sat herself down in front of the TV with Jeff asleep on her chest and drunk the lot.

The offered chair earned Hal a tired smile as she crossed the room and dropped into it, resting her chin on his shoulder as she leaned into him briefly. Her hair looked a little frazzled, her cheeks coloured by two spots of pink, making her look a lot like a traditional garden gnome. All she was missing really was a beard and a fishing rod.

Ruari watched him carefully, like he was in an opera or something whilst holding her breath. "I've got a bucket if you think you're gonna throw up," she told him, her rain cloud grey eyes wide. She wasn't kidding. She had one on standby after she almost killed him a few years ago. She was accidentally studying Hal like some sort of clinical experiment but it was out of habit: she was looking for signs of him becoming suddenly ill. She wanted to badly to tell him to stop. She'd happily order take away but honestly, everything looked fairly…well, okay.

"Oh thank Merlin," Ruari gushed, her pretty face lighting up as her slender shoulders slumped in relief, the worry visibly ebbing out of her as she cracked a smile. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, you know," she joked, only them picking up her cutlery and slicing into a potato. She took a small, tentative bite and gently chewed. She wasn't retching and once the tang of burnt potato had passed, she got hints of rosemary and the skin was salty and delightfully crunchy.

Continuing to eat and plucking up the courage to try the chicken (thoroughly cooked, juicy, the ham crispy and mozzarella gooey), she looked over at him. "I love you," she told him plainly with a small smile. It wasn't grand or fancy but it was true. Like the dinner she'd cooked, it was just her. Picking up her glass, she took a sip and instantly blanched. "I think I bought sherry instead of wine. It’s gross." Pulling a face, she pushed the glass away from her and gave another laugh as she shook her head. The whole thing was rubbish and cack-handed and back to front but it was very them. "I didn't want to spent the day with anyone else so thank you for coming."