animal adoption day [open to all]

[coopdetat]

SIREN COVE ANIMAL SHELTER PROUDLY PRESENTS
ANIMAL ADOPTION DAY
ALL ADOPTIONS FREE FROM 10AM-4PM. FIRST VET VISIT FREE WITH SHEA COOPER, DVM.
BOOTHS, FOOD, PRIZES, AND MORE! SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 2014 AT SIREN COVE BEACH PARK.



Coop's satisfied with the turnout today. He's been working on this event with Dylan for weeks and now that he's had the chance to talk to Les about what's going on with Joel, he feels a little more at ease. Not by a lot, friend-devouring demon on the loose and what not, but still, knowing they have some extra help has proven to be better for his sleeping patterns.

Besides, it's kind of hard to let his mind wander to darker things like that when he's watching kids points out their favorite puppies and kitties and bunnies and begging their parents for the chance to take them home. He's seen familiar faces and met brand new ones, a majority of them eager to get his advice on what's best to feed their new family addition, what the best heartworm medication is, what the best grooming tips are, all sorts of shit that he answers with ease with a giant grin on his face because this is what he loves doing. Watching little fluffballs bring joy to people's faces, it never gets old.

He can see Dylan assisting a couple with one of their older gals, a four-year-old Basset called Hettie who's the sweetest thing but hasn't had much luck in finding a forever home. Coop watches with a faint smile, pleased at the attention the dog's so deservedly getting, and doesn't really register that someone's tapping on his shoulder until it starts to feel more like they're jabbing him. He turns with a raised eyebrow, smile still intact because he's nice like that.

"Hi, yeah, what can I do ya for?"



[OOC: Feel free to use this as a gathering. Or an excuse to come harass this dumdum.]

Comments

[coopdetat]

There's a strand of hair that's fallen out of place, and it's taking everything Coop has in him not to reach out and tuck it back behind her ear. He's done that for her a countless number of times before, it's always that same strand that can never be tamed, but he remembers that on the night he'd proposed, he hadn't had to tuck it back once. It's silly to think of it now but at the time, late into the night before he'd fallen asleep and before Sylvie had written that note for him to find in the morning, he'd thought of it as a sign that maybe things were settling in the way they were supposed to for them. He'd been exhausted, he realizes now, from working up all that nerve to ask Sylvie to marry him and putting the effort into trying to make the proposal special.

He hadn't wanted some bullshit cliche like dumping the ring into a flute of champagne--which he doesn't get in the first place because it'll just be sticky, no woman would want to slide some sticky as hell ring on her finger because her boyfriend was too much of a dumbass to think ahead--or taking her to the top of the Eiffel Tower because fuck, they'd lived in Paris, that would have been the equivalent of doing something that required little to no thought. He'd kept it simple in the end, had invited some of their closest friends to dinner, never mind the fact that one of them, Luka, was a professional photographer and what did Sylvie mean that it seemed odd he had his camera ready for when they were sitting down to dinner, he was a professional photographer.

Coop had cooked a fantastic dinner, had set up their little dining room with those strands of white lights that gave everything a soft glow and had made Sylvie look exceptionally beautiful, not that she doesn't always look that way. She'd been talking to Luka's wife when Coop had pushed his chair back to get down on one knee and when Sylvie had finally noticed, Luka had started snapping the photos. He admittedly still has a few, reluctant as Luka had been to give them, and sometimes Coop will look through the pictures just to remember that at least for that first minute, Sylvie had seemed so happy. So genuinely excited. Still in love with him.

He studies her now without trying to make it obvious, though he's never been very good at masking himself when it comes to her, and he knows what he'd known from that first night he'd seen her. She's not here to try to hurt him again and in spite of the bitterness he may still feel from the way she'd left him high and dry, Coop doesn't truly believe that she'd ever intended to hurt him. They can be honest with each other this time around, completely honest each other, and she'd left him because of what he is but she'd come back anyway. She'd missed him, she's here, and for right now, she doesn't plan to leave. Maybe he ought to give her some credit for that.

"I think Cooper would be the luckiest dog in this park to get to go home with you," he tells her, tone nothing if not sincere. "Long as you promise to take really, really good care of him. Like, ridiculously good care of him, that dog's my namesake. He's very fragile."

[sylviedevereux]

For the short time they'd spent together, they've always been ridiculously in sync to the point of annoyance. She can remember wanting to hide things from him, birthday presents, dinner plans, a small surprise of his favourite pastry for dessert, anything, and he's always been able to see right through her. They'd never done secrets well - except for the obvious - and she realises as she's watching him think that they still don't. She can still read him like a book, and his eyes are fixated on that ridiculous piece of hair that she can feel falling in her face again. She knows what it means, knows he's thinking about the proposal before she even has to ask, and it's both devastating and wonderful all at once.

She doesn't know, looking at him now, how she could ever have walked away. That first night, all through dinner she'd been over the moon, desperately excited to marry him and buy a fucking dog and live happily ever after, and then they'd gone to bed and she lay awake, remembering what he could do and stricken to the core with fear about what she'd be getting herself into. It was stupid, so stupid, but it is what it is.

"I'm sure he's not as fragile as you think," she says, and she doesn't know whether they're talking about the dog or Shea anymore but it doesn't matter.