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[myhousemyrules]

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@trustfundee

[myhousemyrules]

You're not too comfortable to get up?

omfg thank you

[trustfundee]

i am.
small price to pay to see drunk, truthful you.
just dont puke in my car ok?
send me your location.

you're welcome!!

[myhousemyrules]

I think I sent it. I just stay bright here?

[trustfundee]

yup. bright there. send me more on what you were thinking while im driving. i wanna read later :)

[ Twenty minutes later, he's pulling up to her, squinting at her from behind the headlights to make sure it's her. He even opens his door and gets out, because she doesn't look the most stable right now. ]

[myhousemyrules]

[ She does exactly that. She texts him all her thoughts. About how her shoes made her feet her but she's lost them somewhere. How Cameron is so obsessed with image. He'd wanted her to wear the blue dress tonight instead of the green she wanted. How the people at the party all thought they were such woke individuals but really never wanted any of that riff raff in their backyard. Mostly, she texts about how she misses him. She'd been looking forward to seeing him tonight, and when she hadn't, she'd thought all kinds of awful things that filled with a jealousy that could only quiet with liberal amounts of tequila.

She's perched on the curb when the lights shine on her. She blinks blearily as he walks towards her. ]

Ransom?

[trustfundee]

[ He’ll be very happy reading her broken thoughts and typos later, knowing he’s wiggled his way so deep into her that not seeing him at a party could do this to her.

For now, he snorts at the hazy way she blinks, finding it so endearing that she’s all glammed up but sitting barefoot at the side of the road.

He’s still in the same cozy sweater, with a pair of casual slacks and loafers he’d just slipped on to drive out. He’s a comfortable dressed down in contrast to the way she’s done up. They’re bathed in the bright headlights, backlit in the dark street. ]

Happy to see me? [ He asks, more sweet than snarky as he crouches down in front of her and reaches out, taking her chin in a hand to kiss her. ]

[myhousemyrules]

[ It's missing him that's the hardest part. She's letting Ransom try. She's letting him figure out if he's as all in on this with her as she is. Whether he wants to the money or her. They hadn't ironed out all those tangles, so until he does, she's with Cameron. He's stable and nice. He's not afraid to go all in, but she's the one who falters there.

Ransom looks like some kind of ethereal god standing before her. He's backlit by the headlights, standing confident before her. She can only blink until he crouches down to her level. She realize belatedly how dressed down he is. She likes it when he's like this, more comfortable than done up.

Marta makes a happy little noise when he tilts her chin up for a kiss. She leans into him and kisses him sweetly, craving his taste. ]

Yeah. [ She doesn't even try to hide how happy she is to see him. She can't hide it. ]

[trustfundee]

[ She tastes like too many martinis and the lime chasers of tequila shots. He likes it. He laughs quietly into the kiss, then kisses her some more before pulling back. He takes one of her hands in his own. ]

Good. Now where’d your shoes go?

[myhousemyrules]

[ She's still leaning forward to try and chase after her lips. When he stops kissing her, she pouts and makes a noise of petulant discontent. She waves vaguely at the street for her shoes. She's lost track of them along the way. ]

They made my feet hurt.

[trustfundee]

[ She’s too cute like this. It’s like the alcohol completely removed whatever reservations she’d had about showing her what she feels. He can’t help but try to kiss away the pout. When her hand sweeps down the street, he snorts. ]

Okay, so forget about those. [ He leans back in and hooks an arm under her legs, then lifts her. ]

Hold on, okay? [ See? He can be romantic when he wants to. He takes her to the car then laughs as he almost drops her trying to get the passenger door open. When they finally manage, he puts her in the seat and buckles her in. ]

[myhousemyrules]

[ She's only slightly mollified by his kiss. The shoes she'd had were expensive. Some expensive red bottomed something or other that Cameron had gifted to her for the evening. She gives a little squeak when Ransom suddenly scoops her up. Her arms go around his neck. Quickly, she cuddles against him. Her face buries against his shoulder to smell his warm scent.

She doesn't even mind that he nearly drops her. Her fingers curl in the fabric when he tries to put away once she's situated. Drunk Marta is both honest and clingy. ]

Don't leave.

[trustfundee]

[ Her hand catches on his sweater when he pulls back, and he can’t help the endeared laugh. His hand goes to hers. This is nice. It’s cute seeing her cling onto him. His guard drops when she’s like this. He presses a kiss to her cheek when she keeps him close to hear. ]

Well, we can’t both fit in this way, sweetheart.

[myhousemyrules]

[ She huffs out a little sigh and lets go. She's impatient, but the kiss makes her settle for now. Marta waits for him to join her in the car. When he does, her hand reaches for his to lace their fingers together. ]

You're so warm.

[trustfundee]

[ Her unreserved sweetness catches him off guard. He looks at her, a look puzzling over his features before he squeezes her hand back. This isn't a situation he normally ends up in, where he's sober, taking care of a drunk person he actually cares about, and enjoying the way they're clinging.

It's different. It's surprising. He drives off. ]

'Cus you've been sitting at the curb outside. When'd you leave the party, anyway? Where's Cam?

[myhousemyrules]

[ She shrugs one delicate shoulder. She curls her legs up beneath her. The skirt of her dress pools over her, making her look even more slight. She starts to play with his finger. Marta traces the length of his fingers and the shape of his nail beds. ]

The party made me feel suffocated. People kept asking me too many questions.

[ Questions about her. About her and Cameron. About whether or not it's true about Ransom. Cameron had been busy rubbing elbows and networking. He's very good at that. ]

[trustfundee]

[ It's a good thing he drove the Beemer rather than the manual Porsche, because she seems to be having a good time playing with his fingers like that. A perfectly manicured, soft finger twitches under her light touch.

He glances at her from the side of his eye, taking in her expression before sliding to the road again. The city street merges into a highway, and Marta's cast in a dim, yellow glow. The blue dress is stunning on her, but it's not her colour. The sweetness in her voice takes on a somber tone, like she's sad. He has a good guess or two on what the questions could've been about, too, knowing that crowd. ]

Yeah. [ He's not surprised it'd suffocated her, especially with someone like Cameron, who's so good at seamlessly fitting in with a party like that. ] If you're not careful they'll eat you alive. [ Marta's a sweetness that'll be gobbled up by the sharks. ] Especially 'cus you're such a shit liar. How'd you get around talking about us?

[myhousemyrules]

[ Ransom's hands are soft. Of course they would be. He's not had to do any sort of manual labor in his life. He's got a life of wealth and comfort and luxury. She likes his hands. She likes how big and warm they are, how they feel when they cup her face or grips her hips.

She doesn't like thinking about the party. She hates those parties. She can stomach a few for a good cause, but they're all the same. People writing checks to feel like they're actually doing something while they enjoy too expensive alcohol and plates. None of it feels real. It's tiresome. ]

I told them you have a pending criminal case where I am the named complainant. [ She recites the words with practiced ease. Like she's been repeating it all night. Because she has. It's the truth even if it's not the truth they're looking for. It's an answer Cameron seems to like anyway. He thinks she's setting clearly defined boundaries.

Her nose wrinkles. She doesn't like think about that anymore. Marta reaches to fiddle with the radio to find some music she likes. ]

[trustfundee]

[ That has his brows lifting, surprise flickering across his features as he looks over to her, before a snort of wry laughter makes him shake his head. He lets her flip through the radio for a minute. ]

I'll sue you for slander. [ He teases, lifting a playful brow. He refuses to admit he's trying to cheer her up, but she looks so sad, folded into herself like this, as if she's spent all her energy on tonight. It wouldn't be surprising if she had. He navigates it because he has to, because he's good at it, and because he likes the challenge of figuring people out who think they're so smart. It's fun for him, because the fakery in that world entertains him, but she's anything but. She's real. ]

[myhousemyrules]

Add it to all the other cases you've got your lawyers working in against me. [ There's no bite or sarcasm to her tone. It's spoken with a casual lightness that seem at odds with the remark. She can't find anything she likes. He's got fancy satellite radios, but she can't find anything likes. She passes the different decades, some pop, country and hip hop.

Marta makes a squeal of delight when she lands on something play Shakira. It's not overly upbeat, but the vibe fits the quiet drive in the dark. Softly, she sings along under her breath while idly running her finger through her perfect blow out curls. ]

How do you put up with those things?

[trustfundee]

[ He remembers when she’d asked if he knew what comfortable silences were like. He thinks about it as she continues flipping through the channels of his retrofitted vintage radio and feels a smile tug in his mouth when she starts singing. Shakira—nice. He thinks sitting in someone's company listening to them hum is a version of comfortable silence. It's a rare experience with anyone other than Harlan. And since Harlan’s death, it's been almost non existent. He doesn’t like dropping his guard for it.

She stops her singing to ask him about the party. He's almost disappointed. ]

I enjoy them. [ He laughs quietly. It makes him sound like such a psychopath. ] I'm comfortable in that setting--it's easy for me. Once you figure out what everyone’s good for, it starts being fun. Like, how much money could Cam had made if I showed up like he wanted me to? [ He gives an exaggerated, smug little shrug. That’s the thing with him, he only does things when he wants to and having Cameron wave Marta around in his face was enough for him to end up flaking. ]

I didn’t think you were showing up just to see me. That’s real touching. You’d put up for the suffocation just for me? [ He looks over at her again with a sugary smile. ]

[myhousemyrules]

Money. It's always about money. Don't you all have enough of it? [ She grouses sourly. It's like no matter how much they had, rich people always seem to find ways to make more of it. It's absurd to her. His laughter delights her though. It smooths away her unhappy frown. Her eyes flutter shut as she continues to hum to the song while she listens to his voice.

Any teasing or snark from him is utterly lost on her. Where she would normally pick up on it and dish it right back to him, she takes his words now as they are and meets him with honesty. Marta opens her eyes to look over at him, green eyes peering in the low light. ]

Yes, of course. I would do a lot for you, probably more than I should. [ She blows out a sigh as her look suddenly turns wistful. ] I just wish you'd do the same for me. I wish you were all in too.

[trustfundee]

[ That's the thing with money. The more you have, the more you want. At least, that's the case for people in his and Cameron's circle. Everyone wants it for a different reason. For Ransom, it's the freedom it affords. For Cameron, it's the power and status--things people always assume he wants, but in reality, he couldn't care less about.

He glances at Marta again as she sighs. He'd thought maybe it was the party that had been making her sad, but now he sees it. It's him. And that makes a heaviness settle on his chest. He turns back to the road as they exit the highway and start their way down the private, winding road. He wants to say something light and teasing, something to deflect the uncomfortable honesty she's meeting him with. But all that comes out is a question, just as honest, just as wistful. ]

What does me being all in look like to you?

[myhousemyrules]

You and me. It's not about the money. You could do without it. I could do without it. But I need the money for my family, and how will I ever truly know you want me for me?

[ Her out loud train of thought is all over the place. This is something she's often contemplated. The money is the problem. She's already beginning to use it to pay for Alice's college tuition and to handle her mother's immigration issues. She can make sure her mother lives the comfortable life she deserves.

But how can she separate Ransom wants her? Truly her? She's not sure. The money will always be there. If she'd never come into the money, they wouldn't be here now. It's a tangled web that she's hopelessly caught in. ]

Why is the money so important to you?

[trustfundee]

[ He has answers and rebuttals for every broken sentence of her thoughts, but she jumps from piece to piece until she asks him a question that has him looking at her with an incredulous expression on his face.

It almost sounds like a mocking question, but she's completely sincere.

She's right. He doesn't need Harlan's money. His trust fund was released to him after college, and he's been making good use of it, funneling it into investments, spending it on his lifestyle, and making sure he dabbles in enough side projects to roll in income. It's not what his family would call a job, but he doesn't want the responsibility of a job. ]

It's not the money. It's the principle. [ He sighs, a frown wiping the play from his expression. He doesn't know how Marta is when she's drunk, but the honesty is frightening, and her sadness sinks its nails into his heart. ] I can't let you have everything Harlan's ever worked for. No matter what he thought he wanted. You and I--we're a separate issue.

[myhousemyrules]

Why? It's Harlan's money. He decided what he wanted to do with it.

[ She sounds so earnestly confused. Above all, she's always respected Harlan's wishes. Even when he insisted on killing himself to protect her. It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. She feels residual guilt because had she insisted otherwise, he still would be here today. ]

How can you and I be separate when I have the money? The keys to the kingdom like your family says. You can't have one without the other, and I'll never know if you want me for just me.