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((Entering from Cafeteria))

Thankfully Lark didn't live far from the cafeteria, and so they reached her room in a matter of minutes. It was a good thing, too, as the smell of Kettil covered in pudding had been giving her the dry-heaves.

"Y'gonna need some clothes," she mumbled to him, throwing her hat on the bed as she beelined for the restroom. There was a quiet splashing of water and another groan as she called out, "Where's yer room at? Compared t'here?" Did that even make sense? Lark didn't know. She couldn't get the smell of pudding out of her nose.

The instant that Kettil was gone, Lark was undressed and in the shower. The hot water washed away the stench of pudding and other assorted yuck that she'd acquired. It was wonderful and refreshing and she took extra time scrubbing her scalp and making double sure that everything nasty was washed down the drain.

Lark loved long showers. It was where she did her very best thinking.

Right now, all she could think about was the fact that she'd barfed on Kettil.

Kettil was greeted with a bewildered look. Back home it was commonplace for them to barge in on one another in the bathroom or in the bedroom just because they were that comfortable with one another. He'd seen her in bathing suits, he'd seen her in towels, he'd probably even seen her bare a**. Back home, back before the threat of school, it hadn't been a big deal. They were the best of friends forever and always. And then, one little thing had changed.

Feelings. Specifically, hers.

And so when Kettil barged in on Lark standing in her kitchen with a towel that perfectly covered her from chest to mid-thigh? Lark screeched. A hot blush spread across her cheeks and upper chest. She immediately opened the refrigerator door and promptly ducked down.

"Jackdamn it Ket y'can't jest barge in on me like that! Turn 'round! Cover yer eyes!" Why didn't she tell him to leave immediately? Well.. ghouls are fickle things, and maybe part of her wished that he'd -- no. NO. Think of something horrible. Terrible. Monstrous.

Freya's stupid hair.

Okay, that was better.

Lark peered over the top of the refrigerator door, double-checking on whether or not Kettil had followed her screeched orders. Exhaling loudly, she thudded across the room and dove into the bathroom, heaving her towel at his head before she slammed the door closed. She wasn't sure if it hit him or not.

"I was hungry," she grouched from behind the closed door. "Thought I'd find somethin' t'eat." There was silence for a few moments as she quickly dressed.

"Wasn't 'spectin' y'ta just romp on in like y'owned the place."

Sometimes she felt like a terrible friend. Maybe she was a terrible friend.

Jealousy was a terrible thing, and Lark had it in spades.

"Weel that was diff'rent," shemuttered darkly as she swung open the door of the bathroom, stalking out. She sat on the edge of her bed and rifled around in her bedside table for a pair of socks. Lark knew she was treading on dangerous ground here, and she'd have to be wary lest she lose her footing.

"What if I had someone over, Ket?" Her tone carried the insinuation that she meant 'what if I had a boil over,' but she couldn't bring herself to utter the words. Sure, Roch had been in her room, but it had been pretty darn innocent. Clearing her throat, Lark slipped a sock on.

She was such a b***h to him. He didn't deserve it. He never deserved it. The only way that Lark would even consider a boilfriend would be if Kettil started seeing a ghoul. A ghoul that didn't have a boilfriend already. The day that happened would be the day that Lark's heart shattered into a million pieces.

One could only hope she grew the balls to tell him how she felt before that.

"Ket," Lark rose to her feet, one boot on one foot while the other was completely bare. "Ket, don't. M'sorry. Ket, please?" Why did she say such stupid things? This jealousy that threatened to choke her on a daily basis was slowly turning her more and more sour.

Reaching out one lanky arm, Lark brushed her fingers against his shoulder. She bit back a sigh as she ran her hand down his arm, looping her fingers through his. They'd held hands plenty of times -- this was nothing strange. Lark gave a tug as she moved alongside him.

"M'just ..." <******** in love with you, I can't live without you, I need you forever, " ... hungry." She gave a weak smile. "Makes me cranky, Ket. How 'bout I make some lunch t'make it up t'ya?"

Her eyes flicked towards his mouth when he smiled, the sight of his upturned lips igniting a smile of her own. She found herself staring for a long, long time before she blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. A soft pinkish blush blossomed on her cheeks. It was almost as if she'd zoned out, lost in her thoughts, before zipping back to the present. Lark looked a little horrified for a split second before regrouping.

Tugging Kettil back towards the comfortably-sized kitchen, Lark sat him down in one of the seats.

She quickly moved to the bed, put on her missing sock and shoe, and tromped back into the kitchen before she lost her senses and demanded that he join her there. The thought of cuddling on the bed with his leanly muscled arms wrapped around her... kissing her, playing with her hair -- no. No. This was getting out of hand.

"Right, then," she mumbled under her breath as she moved around the kitchen, preparing them each a BLT -- braincon, lettuce and tomato!

"Where d'ya want to go after we eat?"

Lark slapped the top piece of bread on each finished sandwich before placing each one on a plate so that she could slice them in half. Once she was finished, Lark brought each plate to the table, set Kettil's in front of him and then took her place across from him.

"Braincon's cold. Made it this mornin'." She picked at her sandwich, lifting it up to take a thoughtful bite. She chewed, cleared her throat and blinked at Kettil.

Then she stared. And stared.

And stared.

"Sorry. What?"