002, bikinis over lingerie

( the first chapter )

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It had been over a year since Olivine set foot on American soil. As the plane descended, the city lights of Charleston spread beneath her, a tapestry of memories she hadn't realized she'd missed so deeply. Pressing her forehead to the cool glass, she took in the familiar skyline, her chest tight with a blend of nerves and excitement.

"Welcome to Charleston," the flight attendant's voice echoed through the cabin.

Around her, passengers stirred, reaching for bags and phones, but Olivine stayed still, savoring the moment. She was home.

As she made her way down the walkway, fragments of Southern accents drifted past, bits of familiar Charleston slang pulling her back into the rhythm of home. By the time she reached the gate, her heart was pounding, and her eyes searched the crowd. Would he be waiting, or had he found some last-minute excuse to delay, just to get under her skin?

Then, there he was—a tall, scruffy man holding a ridiculous sign emblazoned with "OLIVINE" in glitter, surrounded by doodles of palm trees and, bizarrely, a tiny ballerina in one corner. She laughed, shaking her head. Only her dad would go all-out like this.

"Daddy!" she called, her voice half a laugh.

He squinted as if unsure who was calling him. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said, his voice mock-serious, "I'm looking for my daughter. 'Bout yea high, too smart for her own good, and—now that I think about it—a dancer. You seen her?"

Olivine grinned, stepping forward, his cologne and the faint scent of mint gum hitting her as he wrapped her up in a bear hug. "It's good to see you," she murmured, her voice catching slightly.

He pulled back, holding her at arm's length, eyes twinkling. "Good to see me?" he scoffed. "You have no idea how many folks have asked me, 'Hey, where's that ballerina daughter of yours?' And there I was, proudly saying, 'Off to Russia—ballet training.' Gotta admit, it was nice to brag."

She rolled her eyes as they started toward the baggage claim. "Oh, sure, I'm sure you've been suffering."

"Suffering! Let me tell you, there's only so much of that Kook life I can take without my girl to remind me where I come from." He smirked, nudging her. "Now, are they carting you around in a limo back there, or is my old truck too embarrassing for a ballerina these days?"

"Oh, you're in trouble," she teased, climbing into the familiar passenger seat, its faded upholstery welcoming her like a well-worn shoe. "I've gotten used to sophistication, class—the works."

He laughed, starting the engine. "Class? I've seen the ramen noodle stains you left behind in the old car, missy."

They pulled onto the highway, Charleston's streets rolling out ahead of them, palmetto trees swaying under the streetlights. She hadn't realized how much she missed the easy openness of the Lowcountry sky.

Her dad glanced over, catching her wistful expression. "So?" he asked. "What's the verdict? Still feel like home?"

She shrugged, a small smile betraying her. "It's... nice. I forgot how open everything feels here."

He nodded knowingly. "Nothing like it. And let me guess—you've also forgotten what it's like living with me, working your butt off with no fancy coffee runs or room service."

"Absolutely," she said, feigning horror. "You might have to cook."

"Oh, wow! Listen to this!" He laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "Already taking over the kitchen. She's back for a minute and it's like she never left."

They swapped stories as they drove, reliving family vacations, mishaps in the kitchen, and his infamous experiments with homemade gumbo. As they neared the neighborhood, he grew quiet, the glow from streetlights casting gentle shadows across his face.

"Truth is," he said softly, "it's different without you around here. Didn't know a person could miss someone like that." His voice caught, just a little. "It's good to have you back, Liv."

Her throat tightened, and she reached over, resting a hand on his arm. "I missed you too, Dad."

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Charleston rolling by like a long-forgotten dream, until they reached the ferry that would take them across to Kildare County. As they pulled into the line, he switched off the engine, leaning back with a sigh. "Welcome home, Livy."

She leaned over, hugging him tightly. "Thanks, Dad. It's good to be home."

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The ferry ride passed in a blur of laughter, her dad filling her in on every little thing he could remember as they caught up, the ocean stretching out around them.

When they finally pulled into their driveway, two figures were waiting by the door. Her mother, a petite, curvy woman with a bouquet of freshly cut peonies, and beside her, Daniela, her best friend, holding an over-the-top gift basket of fancy treats.

Olivine barely had time to register the scene before she found herself engulfed in her mom's tight embrace. "My baby's back," her mom whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As she pulled back, Daniela launched forward, her eyes glistening. "You have no idea how much I missed you," she breathed, squeezing Olivine with all her strength.

Olivine laughed, hugging her back, the years apart melting away in an instant. "Dany, no tears! I'm back for good."

Daniela sniffed, wiping her eyes and shoving the basket into Olivine's arms. "Okay, fine. Happy tears. But I'm taking you to the Club tonight. We're celebrating."

Olivine chuckled, tugging her inside as their parents carried in her bags. She had almost forgotten how Daniela could switch from sentimental to wild in a heartbeat.

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Later that day, after a long shower, Olivine felt ready to take on Kildare again. She slipped into a sleek, light pink bodycon dress that hugged her curves just right, her skin glowing against the soft fabric. Daniela emerged from the bathroom in a cream-colored dress that flowed around her figure, elegant yet playful, the perfect counterpoint to Olivine's streamlined look.

They entered the bustling country club, drawing a few appreciative glances as they moved through the crowd. Around them, people laughed and mingled, dressed in polished polos and skirts, the hum of lively conversation filling the air. Daniela filled Olivine in on everything she'd missed, her voice a familiar thread that felt like home.

Across the room, a group of guys noticed them enter. Kelce, the most vocal of the bunch, let out a low whistle, his eyes fixed on Olivine. "Damn, I've never seen a Touron that stunning before."

Topper chuckled, nudging him. "Get real. She's not a tourist, idiot."

Rafe, leaning back in his chair, looked over at Olivine, his gaze sharpening. She was breathtaking, with those big brown eyes framed by dark lashes, her cheeks flushed with a natural glow. The sight of her stirred something familiar in him, memories surfacing of the girl who'd left for ballet over a year ago. But now, she seemed like a vision brought to life—familiar yet impossibly different.

"That's Liv Heyward," he murmured, almost as if to himself.

As if hearing her name, Olivine looked up, her dark eyes meeting Rafe's across the room. There was a moment of recognition, a flicker of a shared memory.

It was as if time had never passed, and yet, everything had changed.

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KIKI SPEAKS;

y'all i got bullied by LUNALORE444 to write this
yall enjoy this filler chapter 💋💋

xoxo kiki