Hi! I know I should really be working on Kazzoli but I stumbled across an old piece of fiction and thought it would work nicely as a Rizzles AU, and here we are. Enjoy
Growing up, we are all told that one day we will meet that one person we are meant to be with forever and ever. We are told magical tales of chance encounters, a brush of the fingertips, a bump on the shoulder, and chance meeting of the eyes, and then we are done. We fall in love, get married, get a house, get children, get grandchildren, and then get old. Maura loved to be told these stories, especially by her parents, two people who could not possibly be more in love. They had locked eyes at a gallery in New York, and never looked away since. With Constance unable to bear children of her own, they adopted three beautiful children: Kylie the oldest, then Grayson, and then little Maura made their home complete. Every night before bed, the three children would all gather in Maura's room for the latest tale of love that their parents had dreamed up from their own experiences. Even when Grayson got too old for mushy love tales, he would sit with his family and listen until little Maura was slumbering. Then, father Richard would take his son to his bed, and regale him with manly stories, stories of war and heroes and rescuing maidens, and Kylie would retire to her room with her mother, for one final lullaby, a quick tuck, and a kiss on the forehead. This was a happy household, filled with warmth and love and dreams, everything a child needed to grow into a fairy tale.
Despite the love and caring she experienced at home, school was a challenge for Maura. Not the academics, the youngest Isles was a star student, and that was exactly the problem. While academic success was something to be celebrated in the Isles household, her classmates, who were older and generally bigger than her on account of her skipping the first grade, found her superior intelligence triggered something irrationally cruel within themselves, and Maura was teased mercilessly for her fondness of academia. Coined "Maura the Bore-a", she frequently came home with barely-dried tears on her cheeks, and to questioning looks from her family. But she simply wiped the dampness with her sleeve and said nothing, choosing the solitary quietude of her bedroom over confronting the fact that while her parents and elder siblings were gregarious and extroverted, with friends galore, she was an outcast, a loner, an introvert.
Maura, at the tender age of just fourteen, has her heart broken for the first time, and she is astonished. Never before has she felt such raw emotion. She really thought Billy Anderson liked her, the thought that he had been dared by his baseball buddies to ask her out had never occurred to her, and the cruel gleam in his eye when he spat out "Why would I ever go out with such a stick in the mud know-it-all," is one she will never forget for all her days. She knows then how Kylie felt every time she called home crying because of some boy at her university, that aching on the left side of her chest. At that moment she learned to empathize with poor Grayson, whose growth spurt back in middle school had left him gangly and awkward, all elbows and angles, too weird for girls to see as anything more than a friend. It was then that Maura decided to close her heart to love, that it hurt too much when it broke, that it cannot possibly be worth it. Sure, she keeps her love for her family, and friends, but whenever a boy shows interest, she merely ignores that little flutter in her chest that says maybe its him, maybe he's the one. Over time, with plenty of practice, she learns how to ignore that little flutter, and doesn't even feel it anymore.
Now, at twenty-five, she is the ultimate man-eater. A rising star in her father's company, she sees men only as objects, as something to gain a quantifiable value from, whether it be sex, money, or simply to pass the time. She has her passions, yes, things that she values. Her family, her few close friends. Her eccentric collection of art, gathered from those friends and family. Grayson has become quite the sculptor, getting commissions from rich patrons, and galleries. His specialty is marble; he likes the simplicity, and the history behind it. It was during a commission for some business mogul to do a bust that he met his wife, Sarah. She had been the mogul's assistant. Now they had small house in the suburbs, and Grayson's main project was designing the nursery they would need for the child he expecting in just a few short months.
Kylie, just past thirty at this point, is living in domesticated bliss; her husband David is an architect who worships her and their two children, and works hard so that she can stay home and take care of them and their Golden Retriever.
Maura does not envy them.
At least, that's what she tells herself late at night when she is curled up on her couch, alone save a bottle of wine and her DVR. Why would she envy them, she thinks to herself as she looks around her hi-rise apartment, her art collection, the designer labels that cover her walk-in closet, her symbols of power and success. She was just as much of a success as they were, just as worthy of seeing pride in her parents eyes, yet still every family dinner and sibling lunch she could see the pity on their faces as she would give them the same line she had been using for nigh on a decade: she was dating, no one serious though. No one worth introducing to her family. No one who could put at ease the nagging darkness that lingered in the back of her mind, no one who made the knot in the pit of her stomach untangle. Most of the time she could ignore it, focus elsewhere, distract herself with work or wine or yoga or sex.
But once in a blue moon the loneliness overwhelms her, descends on her like a black cloud and she gives in to the darkness, too tired to fight any longer than she already has. It is then that she shuts herself in from the world, calls in sick to work and wallows in her solitude, drowning herself in alcohol and prescriptions until the darkness subsides, or until one of her siblings shows up with Chinese food and 80's movies and brings her out of the haze of depression in the way only a sibling can.
It is a cold, rainy autumn day in Boston when Maura ducks into the coffee shop down the street from her office. She greets her regular cashier by name, smiling and nodding at the cheerful "your usual Ms. Isles?" As she scans the barcode saved to her phone on the device next to the register, a flash of dark brunette curls on the other side of the counter catch her eye, but by the time she lifts her head the owner of the mane of hair has disappeared behind the espresso machine. As Maura waits by the other end of the counter she closes her eyes, taking in the sounds and smells of Boston Joe's: the whir of espresso brewing, the whine of milk steaming for cappuccinos and lattes, the hum of murmured conversation between patrons, the occasional soft call of an employee passing on an order, the nutty aroma of coffee as it is ground and brewed to perfection, the sweetness of baked goods. It's a controlled chaotic symphony on her senses, one she has taken to cherish as a moment of clarity and rejuvenation before what was bound to be a long work day.
A hoarse voice brings her out of her reverie, "one medio soy latte, extra shot, for Maura" the barista called out, holding out the steaming cup for her. Maura looked up and was met with the most striking woman she had ever laid eyes on. Tall, with piercing eyes and the cheekbones of a model, dark hair pulled back and covered by her Boston Joe's cap, Maura found herself frozen, unable to move or look away from the beauty in front of her. She couldn't explain it, couldn't put words to the feeling that was surging through her veins. All she knew was this girl, who at this point was staring at her like she was crazy, would become a very important part of her life.
"Thank you very much Jane." she said, finally breaking out of her trance-like state. Taking the steaming cup from the barista's outstretched hand, she locked eyes with the young woman, giving her a genuine smile.
"Its no problem ma'am, just doing my job" Jane replied, a sly grin spreading across the right side of her mouth.
"Please," the businesswoman said, holding out her free hand, "Call me Maura, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again, I come here every morning" Jane took her hand, shaking it gently, its slight coarseness sending tingles to Maura's spine as they maintained eye contact throughout their exchange.
"Pleasure to meet you, Maura" it was at that moment, hearing her name being once again spoken by the mysterious new barista across from her, that Maura felt the ice around her heart begin the slow process of melting.
With a nod of the head and a murmured "until next time, Jane," Maura exited the coffee shop with a warmth radiating to her fingertips, and she knew it wasn't just because of the beverage in her hand.
Leaving it as a oneshot for now, but who knows what inspiration might strike in the future. Let me know what you thought?