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Posted: Sun Apr 04, 2010 2:28 pm
If it was one thing he didn’t want to hear, it was that Tate wanted to think of him as a brother. It meant being close with a clear obstacle, but at least she was having trouble. Still, she wondered if she felt Wolframite was a brother to her, or something else? At this point, he wanted clear definitions of where both sides of him stood, but they were both limited in what they could say. It came to the point he wished he could reach into her chest and instead of pulling out a starseed, rip out all the vital information he wanted for himself.
Instead, they held hands, feeling her warm palms brush over his as their fingers played around each other. For all that they had talked, he didn’t feel as if he as any closer to knowing anything more or less than he had before, and had just more material to add to the pile of confusing he had to sort through. What he knew, for a fact, was that he liked the way his hands could fit in hers, even if it meant they were smaller. For all that he wanted to keep her safe, right here he could feel a moment of security no matter how unsure he was about everything else.
“You can call me Wolfram. It will be the first time anyone has.” A smile tugged on his thin lips, and he looked up at her, before slipping a hand away and touching her lip. “….you should do something to take care of that. You’re friend will worry.” Slowly, his hands removed themselves, and he started to head up the fire escape again. “Goodnight, Nightingale.”
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Posted: Sun Apr 04, 2010 5:15 pm
It was one of those moments that Tate had read about quite often--eternal, timeless things. Sappy, yes, but it was true. She smiled at him, ran her thumbs over the backs of his hands. "It suits you," she said; he touched her lip and she blushed straight to the roots of her hair.
The shorter boy began to leave, and she took a few steps after him. "Wolfram--"
He paused and turned. "You can come back, you know--any time you like." And she smiled, and then stood at her window. The grating clattered beneath her. "Goodnight, Wolfram." She wiggled her fingers at him, and slid back through her window.
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