|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 9:45 pm
She had grabbed him from school the second he'd emerged from the locker room. Her expression indicated happiness, immense happiness, and also the fact that she was ridiculously pleased with herself. Tate didn't take the time to explain what she was grinning about--she grabbed both of his hands and said, all in one breath, Grab your stuff c'mon let's go let's go!
He grabbed his stuff. She dragged him out to her car and they drove--not towards her house, but in quite the opposite direction, to a quiet tree-lined street in a district eminently recognizable as East Heights. College-age students lived here, people moving out and getting ready to start their own lives. It was infamous for drug connections a few years back, and now it was well-known for the predominance of convenience stores, laundromats, and now--
They were in a brick apartment building. Tate fumbled with her keys for a moment, then opened the door and flung out her arms. "I live here," she said, looking happier than she'd ever been, taking both his hands in her own. "It's mine! This is my place, Ladon, it's mine."
The room had been recently cleaned; the walls were painted white, the floors covered in canvas as if it was being repainted. There was no wall between the small kitchen and the living room, and it wasn't all that big, but Tate looked so happy, amazed like she couldn't believe she was looking at her own home, and outside rain pattered down the windows like nothing.
"Come see my room," was what she said next, swinging their hands between them. "You'll like it better than the last one."
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 10:07 pm
Track had been starting up again with the coming of spring, and he liked the stress relief more than ever. More and more had started to weigh on his mind that simply running was becoming an even greater pleasure than it had been before. Tired and worn, but very light, he took a shower, dressed, and came out with his black hair a wet, jet black. Not expecting Tate to come out of no where, he was jugging his duffle bag of dirty clothes and backpack as he tried to button his coat. Out of the blue, he heard her rush up to him, and soon his hands were in hears, nearly lifting up him, and he was jerking as she bounced about, eager and excited. It was one of the first times he saw her this happy, and since he had no idea why, he didn’t feel he could take any credit. What worried him the most was that it was because of Zachary, and he inwardly felt sick if it was, hoping she wouldn’t say his name soon. For that boy to take any credit for one of Tate’s smiles was more than enough for him. For a brief, glimmering moment, he wondered if it was because of a particular gift on her windowsill, but it had been days since then and there had been no mention of it, and he found himself as confused as before.
Offering a nervous smile, he asked her what was going on, but she wouldn’t say. Lips sealed, she dragged him off to her car, helping to toss his stuff in the back seat, and started to drive. It was awkward, as she continued to drive in not only the wrong direction, but didn’t say anything during the trip, still giddy in her seat. While he wanted to share in her excitement, paranoia and suspicious crept in and he looked around, trying to figure out why they were headed this way. When he saw the neighborhood, he wondered if Tate was on drugs, but then knew she was better than that. Tate was a lady after all. Instead, she parked along apartment duplexes and then leapt out, opening the door and quickly recapturing his hands and leading him inside one of the buildings.
It was an apartment duplex, but Ladon couldn’t think of anyone who lived here that Tate would know. This only reminded him of the Singles party and the encounter with Libra, and all the friends Tate seemed to have, the social life that he didn’t really know, and he wondered if he was meeting one of her friends. On guard, he squeezed the end of his coat as Tate fumbled with the keys, and in the next moment, took them again and lead him inside.
There was no one here. Nothing. Not a couch, a chair, or even a crate. Just canvas on the ground and the faint lingering smell of paint. It was raining outside, something that had been starting recently to rush in the feeling of spring. For such gloomy weather, Tate beamed like a radiant sun, filling the white room with her glee. This was not just any apartment, this was Tate’s apartment.
His eyes widened, and he started to look around. She had her own place, and she hadn’t even told him she was moving until now. Tate didn’t notice, grabbing his hands and leading him to her room. “Your own place? That’s….great!” He managed, forcing excitement as he was lead down a short hallway. "I was wondering why we were here. When did - When did this happen?" As she lead him through her new place, he tried to gauge how far this was from his own house, and his heart sank a bit. She was farther away now, with kids her own age surrounding her. College kids.
Then it really hit him. She was moving off to college, wasn’t she? Of course she was. With graduating, she was going to be leaving High School. Come next year, he would never see her in the hallways again.
She was moving away in more than just one way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 10:22 pm
"You were out sick all that time, I didn't get to tell you, it was kind of impulsive, me and Parker are renting it together, he's like a brother in all that implies, jeez but his girlfriend is kinda hyper, but look at it, Ladon, it's mine--" She opened the door to her room, still holding on to one of his hands. "Here, see? Isn't it much better?"
The walls weren't red, they were a seafoam green and unobscured by gory posters. Instead there were a few photos and shelves to hold her books, her desk wedged between the foot of her bed and a corner. In a vase (blue, round, maybe pottery) were three lilies. Her bed was the same, still white with drawers underneath, but the comforter wasn't black any longer. Instead it was a pretty sky blue. Sitting on the bed was Theodore, in pride of place.
She stood in the middle of her room, having finally let go of his fingers. For the first time, her smile dimmed a little, and then she said as cheerfully as she could, "I'm not going to college. I have a job, and I'm going to work at a graphic design company and learn more that way, and... I figured..." Tate looked down at her hands, a little sheepish They were coated in chipped blue polish; she made a mental note to fix that as soon as she could. Then she glanced back up to Ladon--how had she never noticed how very, very green his eyes were?
Tate crossed the room back to him, took his hands again. "You look sad, Ladon." She pulled him into her new room, onto her bed. There they sat together, her dark eyes directed off out the window at the raindrops slipping down the glass. "There's a fire escape--we don't face the street so I can get to it out my window, it's completely brill. I'll show you someday when it's not raining."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 10:42 pm
Again, he didn’t know Parker. He didn’t know anyone that Tate knew, and he felt himself sinking more and more in the fact that he knew very little about Tate. When he entered her room, what he expected to see as the familiar gore of her room, was changed into sea foam green, light colors that brought light into the room that wasn’t in her old living quarters, and he noticed how elegant it looked. It was more of what he would assume was a girl’s room, with bright colors, her pristine white bed, and furniture. While he would have thought he would have liked this, having been put off by some of the bloody colors and pictures in Tate’s old room, he found he wasn’t happy at all. In fact, he found he LIKED Tate’s old room, no matter how horrid it was, because it said so much about the Tate he knew, or thought he knew. It was like she was changing before his very eyes, and he didn’t want it to happen. What did change mean when the old Tate was friends with him. He found he barely knew the old Tate now, and now there was a new Tate he would have to find out about! He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this.
His eyes went to the little blue vase, and he tried not to look at it too long. The white flowers toched him, noticing the ltitle ribbon that made him touch his coat collar, thinking of the ribbon that usually was about his next while in uniform. It hurt worse now, thinking of that time only a few days back when he was Wolframite, sitting in Tate’s old place, as she sang to him, let him lay his head on her lap, and where, when she rested, he brushed her hair behind her ear. Wolframite seemed to know Tate more than he did, and looking at the flowers she was keeping only furthered the idea. Ladon knew nothing, and he felt cheated that Wolframite was more invading Tate’s life. With all these friends Tate had, new and old, where did Ladon and Wolframite stand?
She noticed him, and he watched as she told him that she wasn’t going to college. It was a relief, but it didn’t change things greatly. She was going to study still, but she would be gone soon. A new place, and a new life, only reminding him how she was older than he was. Here he was stuck at home with his mother, in school, and she was going to go off to bigger, better things. She was becoming an adult, and he was just some stupid kid. Some stupid kid who didn’t now jack!
Observant, more than he ever was, she took him to her bed and set them down. Such a place felt intimate despite how little was in her room. The rain fell, and she looked outside, her expression seeming sad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get sad. I’m very happy for you, really. It’s just really sudden.” His voice almost cracked, and he looked back down at his lap, twisting his fingers into knots. “I forget you’re graduating soon. I won’t even be seeing you next year.” No rides after school or surprise meetings in the hallway. No texting in class about how much they hated their teachers or didn’t get the assignments. He had stumbled onto one of his best friends ever all to late.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 10:57 pm
She looked around her room. A lot of the pieces were the same as her old room--the vase had come from the storage space under her bed, the curtains in a pile in the corner were the same white as her room, cleaned and bleached. Her books on the precariously-balanced shelves were all the same, and tacked over the desk was a movie poster for something called Death Note--but it was so much cleaner now. Streamlined, almost. There wasn't anything for her to hide here, no reason to scare Mariska away.
Also she was going to try and hang her Fatal Frame poster in the living room.
"You'll see me," said Tate, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could. The idea of not seeing Ladon caused her insides to twist, made her grit her teeth. "I know. I know--hey--"
Her hands clenched in her own lap, and into her head popped a few solutions: she could laugh it off, ignore how sad he looked. She could try to explain what it meant to be free of her parents, to not have to answer to anyone but herself... She could do something crazy to distract him, and the image that popped into her head almost had her blushing. Ladon was younger than she was. She had a boyfriend. Still... the idea was appealing until she remembered that she was just his friend.
Tate resettled herself closer to Ladon, toeing her shoes off so she wouldn't get her new comforter dirty. "I'm not gonna leave you behind," she said, reaching out as if to touch his shoulder; "I don't have enough friends to give up one of my best, do I?"
Humor, definitely not Tate's strong suit.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 11:14 pm
He watched her shift, noticing her slipping off her shoes, and he looked at his own wondering if he was going to muddy up the canvas. Little drops of water from the drizzle were dripping, and he felt bad for ruining her clean room. Her new room, familiar and strange at the same time. Already he felt he would miss the privacy of rushing into her room together, and being able to claim the couch to sleep on. Tate’s place was a way for him to get away, but it was also a place similar to his own home with little parental supervision but still strict rules. There had been a presence of parental authority that, no matter how old Tate was, was still something they could relate to. It still made her feel young, because she was still living with her parents and in school. This. This apartment, said differently.
She shifted near him, and he noticed her hand hover close by, but never touch. There had been no hesitation when she had brushed Wolframite’s hair back, let him rest against her, and he wondered why she was stopping now.
Because we’re friends.
Even though she was attempting to comfort him, he felt bitter. “You seem to have a lot of friends. Giselle, Howl, Parker…you seem pretty popular to me.” Enough to dance with someone else, buy a place with someone else, to comfortably tell someone that they had beautiful eyes. Why was she more willing to do all these other things and talk more openly with other people, other friends, than him? Why hadn’t she told him about this apartment, or her plans after graduation before?
It was hard to look at her. “I don’t even know any of these people.” And then he thought, I don't know you.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 11:38 pm
Tate didn't know what to do--she had no experience with comforting someone outside of herself. And she only comforted herself with lies, stupid lies about things that didn't really matter in the end. Where had she messed up? How could she fix this?... She gripped his arm and pulled him close enough that his shoulder fit perfectly into the groove between her shoulder and her collarbone; close enough that she had to rest one hand behind him to hold her balance and not fall on him.
"I know a lot of people," she said; "Same way you do, I guess. But in the end..." She looked out to her room, to the open closet door--still full of uniforms for Meadowview. "In the end, you're here, and they're not." It hadn't occurred to her to go to Giselle first, even--Giselle, who had been her friend since kindergarten! She had just... gotten used to not having her conqueror. It was hard to fall back into that routine when she had just begun to grow out of it. "Even Parker hasn't seen my room yet," she confided. "You're the first person."
She flopped backwards then, the bed bouncing with aftershocks. "You can come over whenever you want, of course, I have sleeping bags, or I will, and the couch'll get here soon, but it will probably go in the livi--"
Or they could share the bed.
Tate snapped back into a sitting position, her face tomato red. Those were thoughts she had about Wolframite, not her friend Ladon, and she realized she was staring at him rather oddly. An outsider would have described it as confusion and longing, but Tate was just worried he would think she was mad--she wasn't. "Really, Ladon," she said, pressing her hands to his shoulders and her forehead to his.
And then, not really thinking, she commented, "You know, your eyes are really green? They're pretty."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 11:58 pm
She was so close now that he could smell the lingering smells of her shampoo, her deodorant, and the faint smells of a sticky-sweet perfume. Spring flowers on a hot day. He wondered what it was called. Obsession? Desire? Untouchable? It was one of the first times he was this close to a girl, and he remembered the fateful encounter with Nealite. How her hand held his when reaching into someone’s chest, and he felt a shiver race up his spine. He felt a sense of danger, but also a racing of his pulse that made it seem warmer despite how cold the early spring rain was making the room. It was like that night when he could see her up close, and against her he could make out her long lashes, upturned chin, and the murkiness of her eyes that were never brown or green and hard for him to define. If he ever tried writing a poem about him, he’d fail in describing the color.
As the mention of being the only one in this room, he felt more aware of the bed underneath him, a place where she slept, and the privacy of the room pressed around him. They were alone in the apartment with no parents about and only the rain to shush any noise. You’re the first. The imagery rushed into his mind and he swallowed hard. His fingers clutched the comforter beside him.
Then she flopped back, it broke his train of thought, derailing it to send it off the cliff and bursting into flames. Breathing deep, he sat back, stiff, hearing his heart in his ears beating like a enthusiastic drummer. Then she returned to him, and he heard the clash of cymbals as she brought their brows together. A clash again at the mention of his eyes, and rich reds flooded his face before he shoved her back, standing up. “You’re so distracting!” he huffed, feeling the need to walk off and pace a bit, crossing his arms about his chest, pushing his heart back in before it jumped out. He took a moment and looked to the rain falling. “When were you going to tell me about not going to college? About the graphic design company? You sound like you already had it set in your mind. If we’re best friends, why don’t I know these things?” He looked to her, the color still rose-red on his cheeks and around his ears.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 12:18 am
"I'm sorry," she said contritely, her own blush fading as she folded her hands in her lap. She really wasn't all that sorry for distracting him, because it had kind of been her aim the whole time. Being mad at her was better than him being sad at himself. At least then he could get the emotion out, she supposed.
Tate watched him pace, trying not to smile. "I meant to tell you a few weeks ago," she said, "but something always distracted me." First it had been that she had to leave, and then he'd asked that question, and they'd always talked about silly, frivolous things at school. Those were times she valued, and she hadn't wanted to break them with something so serious as college and work. Sheepishly, she added, "And I haven't been talking all that much to anyone, either. Things have been getting really weird for me, you know? I was walking home last night and some guy in a dark coat stuck his hand in my chest, and a couple nights before that a giant centipede attacked me."
Realizing this could come off wrong, she amended, "Not just touching me? But wrist-deep in my chest--and I mean a giant centipede--" She couldn't tell Ladon about Wolframite, because Wolframite was sort of her closely-guarded secret, but... She smiled at Ladon, brightly, some of her former enthusiasm returning.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 12:30 am
He downright refused to accept these excuses. If this matters, if he mattered, didn’t that mean she would have told him sooner? They never even talked about their plans for the future, but it had been more urgent for Tate who has less time than he had to dally on what she wanted to do. Now she decided, seemed to have decided a while ago, and never brought it up. It was like she was avoiding the bigger issues, the personal ones that connected people. Did she think he wouldn’t understand, or was it that he was too young to really connect? What was it?!
His eyes shot to the vase and he felt like taking it and throwing it across the room.
Every fast beat of his heart hurt, and he squeezed his crossed arms more tightly to his chest, repeating what she said in his mind. They’re pretty. Pretty green eyes. It was the only thing Wolframite and he shared that she liked, and it also terrified him that she might come close to who they both were.
Then she spoke about men reaching into her chest, and he whipped his head about, looking at her with eye-wide attention. “What?!” She continued about the millipede, but no mention of Libra or Wolframite. How unspecific! What else did she not detail about her life? Why didn’t she tell him urgent matters, or give full details?! “Some guy reached into your chest? What are you talking about? And….why didn’t you tell me this sooner?!” He broke his hands and started to pace, sometimes wanting to touch his brow but as it his hand rose, it always dropped again as he moved. Already he was going to wear in Tate’s carpet, and he found it harder to even look at her. The only person to take a starseed was the Negaverse. Who touched her? Who dared messed with Tate!
He paused, stilling himself as he stood before her. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me this? Why don’t you tell me these things?” His questions were pressing, demanding, and his green eyes flashed ivy bright in the mist of sea foam green surrounding him. He knew he had to find out who this person was. Who on his side was touching Tate. “What did he look like? Did you see him?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 12:48 am
She stiffened, not expecting such a virulent reaction, and the smile fell. Now he was too mad, and he was shouting at her--she knew Ladon would never hurt her. He was only mad because he cared, she told herself, and she was glad because it meant all of his attention was firmly on her, only on her. Nothing about anyone else, just Tate on his mind now--and he was angry, but he was there.
It was definitely kind of sick that she was relieved by that.
"It only happened last night," she said, her voice giving away her relief and surprise. He cared, that was the relief; the surprise, that he seemed to care so much. "Like this--" And she placed her hand on his chest, palm flat over his uniform collar for barely a moment before she flinched back, her face crinkled like with pain. She remembered how it felt, to have someone reach inside her, and she was irrationally terrified of accidentally hurting Ladon that way. Only a few days ago she would have brushed off someone reaching into another person's chest, confident in her logical world. Now she knew better. "But his hand went through my chest--and like I said, it only happened last night--and you were home sick, and I don't like worrying you. I don't want you to worry about me."
She liked the attention, but not the shouting; she sat stiffly, bristling, as she said, "I was walking home from the convenience store and I go through the same alleyway every night. The first time, a giant centipede came out of nowhere but a person in black and green clothes and a senshi killed it. Then--" reluctantly, she gave his name "--Lieutenant Wolframite, he pulled me up onto the roof..." Singing him to sleep, taking him to Ivan, she would leave out.
"Last night I had gone to get milk and this boy with blueish hair, I guess, was following me. He had... smoke pellets? And I think a slingshot. But a man in yellow with a mask attacked him and I ran..." Now she was bright red, ashamed at leaving someone who had probably saved her life, and staring off to the lilies. "Ladon, I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry," she said, firmly. "And sometimes I don't tell you things because they scare me, and I don't want to think about them."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 1:09 am
Even her mimicked pain made his face cringe, and he briefly touched his own chest, remembering a similar feeling the day he was corrupted. The day he felt those fingers wrap around his own starseed, and how his entire body convulsed. It was the closest he felt to death by far, and he didn’t want to think that Tate felt that pain for even a moment, or that he, as Wolframite, was capable of the same thing. It wasn’t a connection he wanted to think about, and he instead thought of who he knew who had a slingshot. Nothing came to mind, but he made it a personal mission to find this member of his team and make it very clear that Tate was off limits. She was his friend. HIS. He had saved her too many times to let someone snatch her off the street. She had saved him too many times that he felt too much was left unpaid. No one had a right to her starseed without his permission, and he’d sooner steal there starseed than allow that to happen.
While he gave all his attention to the starseed attack, he barely batted an eye at the mention of the youma. His side was still stitched up to remind him, but it didn’t’ stop him from kneeling before her, setting his hands upon her shoulders, and looking at her straight in the eye. “You have got to stop running on errands at night. You know it’s dangerous, especially for a lady like yourself. Take your car or bring your friend – Parker was it? You’re lucky, but you can’t rely on luck all the time. Destiny City is dangerous, and it’s only going to get worse before it gets better. I can’t even begin to start thinking about the idea of you going out and random people grabbing your chest or doing whoever-knows-what-else.” The very idea of someone reaching for her with their filthy hands make him squeeze her shoulder’s tightly. He had to take a moment to breath deep. “Tate, you can’t go on not telling me things. If I’m your best friend, you can’t just think it’s okay to say things when they already happen and are decided and done with. I want to know what’s happening in your life, even if it’s scary. I’d like to know about your plans for the future. I’d like to know who you know or what you want to do. I want to know what bad things happen too, even if you think they will worry me. So what if they’ll worry me? That’s not a bad thing. I’m going to worry about you anyways, and it’s better that I know than just be surprised.”
Pretty eyes. He considered this, and slowly rose up, bringing their brows together like she had done before, flushing despite how bold he felt with being this close. He used his eyes to speak for him and make his point. “Even if it scares you, I want to know. Isn’t that what friends are for?” Pulling a hand off her shoulder he held it between then, raising up a pinky. “Promise me to tell me more, good things and bad. Okay?” Like before, at the restaurant, he wanted another oath.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 1:25 am
He was misunderstanding, just like Ivan had; but that was all right, what he thought he was protecting wasn't there any longer. If it would help--"Ow," she said when he squeezed her shoulders, more of a delayed reaction that anything.
It was more shameful to hear that she'd been maligning Ladon than it had been to flee the alleyway while the man in gold had still been fighting. She still thought she was right--how could she not be right, when she was herself? But she probably could have let him in more, given him more credit. After all, he kept up with her in most everything else, didn't he? "Sorry," she breathed under his lecture. His eyes really were a beautiful shade of green. They looked lovely against his pale skin and dark hair--aesthetic appeal, it was enormous. Tate couldn't ignore first principles as much as she would like, and first principles were telling her she found Ladon... attractive.
But not that way, she assured herself. It was just the likeness to Wolframite, though they were clearly not the same person--
Tate regarded the uplifted pinky with the same skeptical look she had given him the night of the Singles' Awareness Dance, but she still linked her finger around his. "I promise I'll tell you more, good things and bad," she repeated obediently, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"That said," she continued, "if you come over on Sunday, you can meet Parker. And maybe Parker's girlfriend." She hooked her ponytail behind her ear. "I'm pretty sure Parker is secretly gay and his girlfriend's a beard, but no, he's kinda obsessed with her."
...Kind of like how she felt about Ladon and Wolframite both, which was scary.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 8:04 pm
At the tug of his finger, the promise was official and he unlinked their fingers and removed his brow from her, unable to withstand the closeness for too long without the sudden urgency to be impulsive taking hold. To restrain himself, he stepped back and looked around, distracting himself with the lifeless, less interesting objects in her room while he let the quick bebop in his chest subside.
“I’d like to meet Parker. Will you guys be moving everything thing in or will you be waiting till a little later?” This place was already her place, and he wondered just how soon she would be moving in. “I might not be able to lift a fridge or a dresser drawer, but I can help a bit if you tell me when that is.” He never had a friend who was moving into their own place, and he wanted to see how it was like, just to taste a bit of how moving out would be like when he grew up a bit more and left his place. Then again, with how his mother went on, it was like she was trying to keep him at home, even if he went to Sovereign Heights. That, he knew, was not going to happen. Living alone was essentially something he already did, but without the worry of paying bills, but he didn’t want to stay home forever. Then again, aside from moving out, he had no idea what he’d do. Just an idea of going places and doing things to make him feel accomplished.
“Um…Congrats on the graphic design thing. You seem to have everything pretty much set now. Do you know what you’re going to go after now?” While he had seen Tate draw a lot during lunch, he didn't know that was what she had wanted to go into. It seemed like a hobby, but it seemed to now be a passion.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 8:58 pm
She rolled onto her back again, staring up at the ceiling. God, he was-- well. He was, and that was sort of the problem, wasn't it? If they actually had more than a friendship, it was kind of the thing parents would raise eyebrows at. After all, she was eighteen and he was... younger. A lot younger. "Hmm?" Tate peered up at Ladon, smiling again. "Oh. I don't know if Parker's all moved in yet--most everything is here but Parker and I are gonna re-paint the living room!"
Then she flopped down again. "If you want, you can help us--or, you know, you can just keep me company." She would like that, a lot--more than she should--
Maybe she would break up with Zachary...
"I don't know," she said, shrugging and sitting back up to smile brightly at her friend. "I suppose I'll try to get a job once the internship's over..." She crossed her arms and leaned her elbows on her knees. "Ladon, would you mind if--"
Blushing, she fell silent again.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
