calm down my heart, don't beat so fast [tailored but not necessarily locked]

[godtooksides]

In a tiny, out-of-the-way neighborhood park just outside downtown Chicago, someone is sitting on a swing. He's just rocking back and forth, making patterns in the sand below with the one foot that's hanging down off the swing. The other is tucked up onto it, knee under his chin

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[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys is just meandering in the park, staring at her journal and alternately pausing to look around at where she's at. The rudimentary map this stranger who knows her drew is actually fairly good, but it has just occurred to her that she doesn't know what this person looks like.

Well, she figures, she'll just sit down on a swing next to this other nice-looking young man. It should be noted that to Gladys, EVERYONE is nice-looking.

This can only end in tears.

[godtooksides]

Well, hey, at least he doesn't look as weird as he does some days, not having put on any makeup, and having showered the night before at one of the homeless shelters in town.

He notices her right away -- she is, after all, the only other person in the park aside from him -- and watches her as she meanders toward the swings. He can't quite work up the nerve to say anything for a long time, eventually going back to staring at the circles his boot is tracing in the sand below him. She doesn't look anything like his hazy memories of Gladys, but then, he doesn't look too much like Jeremy. He's not Jeremy anymore.

After a few minutes, though, he can't stand it anymore. "Waiting for someone?" he asks, softly, glancing over at the woman.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys smiles at the nice boy and cocks her head to the side. "Actually, I am," she admits with a bright smile. "How about you?"

She reaches into her giant purse and pulls out a bag of cookies. "Would you like a cookie?" she asks. "They're not too old, I don't think."

She swings a little bit on the swing, holding the bag out to him.

[godtooksides]

He feels like he's going to throw up. It's her. She looks completely different, but it's her. He shouldn't have done this, shouldn't have come here. It was one thing to find the others, not expecting anything of them besides judgement.

He shakes his head at the offering of cookies. If there was any time he wouldn't be able to stomach anything, it's now.

"Yeah," he says, finally, in an answer to her first question. It takes him quite a bit longer to force the next word out. "...Gladys?"