Welcome to Gaia! ::

The demon was in. He was very in. He was so in that he hadn't left his room for three-and-a-half days. Everything seemed easier to deal with behind closed doors. His heart didn't race for no reason, he could form sentences without stuttering, he could think of things other than... her. Sometimes. The problem was, his room had a distinct lack of real food, and the boil quite liked to eat. He knew he didn't have to, strictly speaking, but that knowledge didn't stop his stomach from growling.

He had almost relented and ventured outside today. The gnomes working on remodeling his room weren't the usual morality-deprived heathens he was used to. Or actually, maybe they were. That was the problem, he supposed. Sex jokes and inane chatter about "hotties" currently left West more on edge than amused. In the end, instead of leaving himself, he had just kicked them all out for the day, huddling on his bed with Master and listening to the wind whistle through his broken window. At one point, he thought he heard someone shout, "I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOU, AUBREY!" followed by a dull thud in the grass outside, but that might have just been a dream he'd had during one of the times he'd dozed off. If it really had happened, West supposed he felt kind of sorry for the guy. It seemed that quite a few people were having love troubles latel—

West was pulled from that thoroughly revelatory thought by a knocking at the door. Someone here? To see him? Maybe they had the wrong room. He was on his feet and heading toward the door before he could even think much about it. "Who's there?" he barked, peering through the peephole only after he had spoken. His heart lurched, his stomach dropped, and he suddenly felt like his knees weren't going to support him much longer. West made a small sound, somewhere between a sigh and a sob, and hoped that somehow she hadn't heard him.

s**t. She'd heard. It had admittedly been kind of stupid to hope that she hadn't, but West had been doing so with everything in him. If he'd had any doubts at all before now, they were gone. He could never see Levi face-to-face again.

West tried to clearly recall when all of this had started. He knew something had happened while they had been training, but that entire day seemed kind of muddied now. Was this how these things happened? He thought he'd had strong feelings for Duerre once, but they were nothing compared to this. He shook his head. It just didn't seem normal. What was going on?

He found himself reaching for the doorknob without thinking, but when he saw his shaky hand, he pulled it back against his stomach and grabbed at his t-shirt to keep the traitorous appendage anchored there. "No, I, um, I've been sick. Gettin' better though." Until you showed up. "Dun wanna get you sick, so you should go." He tried to chuckle knowingly, but it sounded more like a dry cough.

At first he refused to believe that his horribly obvious ruse had actually worked, but when he looked back through the peephole a minute later, she was gone. Somehow that stung, that she hadn't cared enough to persist. The boil shook his head. He was not dwelling on this. He was not pouting over Levi. He was going to get back in bed and sleep until he wasted away or whatever this was fixed itself somehow.

When she called out to him, his back was to her and he was already halfway burritoed in a blanket. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Jackdammit," he snarled, turning to face her and scooting backward as quickly as he had the time he had woken up in her room. When his hand met open air behind him, he turned again, swinging his legs onto the floor and rising to his feet. At least the bed was between them now.

He held out his hand, palm forward. "I tol' you. Y'really dun want what I got." His gaze strayed to the plate she held. In his surprise at her presence, he hadn't really noticed the spookies when he'd first seen her on the other side of the door, but now... He was really hungry. West's outstretched hand dropped slightly, then combed back through his messy hair. "Yeah, I, um... after the bird came through'ere I thought it'd be good t'remodel." Don't talk to her. Get her out of here! "So, everythin' good with you?" ...after I touched your cheek for no good reason in the middle of the forest?

It seemed as though she was actually going to listen to him and stay...nope. She was on his side of the bed in an instant, and short of backing through the sheet of plastic that separated his new kitchen from the rest of the room or claiming he suddenly had to use the bathroom, West was stuck right where he stood.

He frowned at first, brushing at the front of his shirt. Dirty? West wasn't vain—okay, he was... sometimes—but he wasn't... dirty, was he? Unkempt, maybe. Or disheveled. Like a man. Mannishly. Roguishly disheve... Hm. When he realized that she had moved on, that she really didn't seem to care what he had on or the fact that his hair looked as if it was trying to defy gravity, West suddenly found his appearance less than important as well. He gestured toward the plastic hanging behind him.

"Kitchen's bein' made," he replied, a faint smile raising the corners of his mouth as she laughed. "An' y'didn't hafta..." His stomach let out a lengthy growl as Levi uncovered the spookies, but his thoughts were on her. She was so close...

"They look... really good," West breathed. He wasn't looking at the spookies. "Um..." His eyes darted over to her gift. "Guess I could..."

He leaned toward her hand so slowly it seemed he would never get there, and when he finally took a bite, his face was still turned slightly away from her. Hey. It was good! He chewed and swallowed, a mildly dopey smile lifting his lips. West wanted to take the rest of the spookie she held, to take a damn handful of spookies, to reach out and brush that lock of hair away from her cheek... Instead, he took a step back, threading his fingers together in front of him so that his hands would remain still. "'t's good. I, uh, you can leave 'em'here." And go. Please, go. "You're prob'ly already sick. I tol' you t'stay away."

West didn't really do much in the way of cooking for himself, so in order to eat, he really did have to leave the room, which he most certainly hadn't. He quickly snatched the rest of the spookie from her, shoving it in his mouth with one hand while halfheartedly batting at hers with the other.

"Hey, I said..." he began, muttering around crumbs of food. "'m not like..." Wait. Unlike the comparisons she had made between him and her tatzelwurm brethren in the past, this one seemed approving, almost complimentary. Ghouls were... confusing. Always had been. His train of thought briefly ground to a halt when she mentioned Scarentine's, his brow crinkling in confusion. Did she want...? No, she couldn't...

The pleasant flavor of spookies that coated the inside of his mouth suddenly went bad. West took a step back, blinking at the ghoul with a certain measure fear in his eyes, as if she could force him to attend. Last year. That auction. Dancing with Holly. Dancing with Yaya. Ridiculous. Embarrassing. He didn't want to go through any of that again.

"N...no," he replied a little too quickly. "I mean, I wasn't gonna go. Parties'n things. I don't do 'em." West shook his head. Never mind that she had seen him at prom. The boil almost slapped his palm against his forehead.

After having done nothing but push closer and closer for so long, West was relieved when Levi moved away. Relieved and, well, not relieved. A little sad, actually. Ashamed. He knew she was probably thinking about the dress he had ruined, and for a brief moment he wished he hadn't done so. Why had he done it? Right. He had done it because she had tricked him... twice... and he wanted to return the favor. He would never actually forget that, even if it was a little difficult for him to concentrate on right now. He drew in a deep breath.

"Yeah, um. Guess I'ave gone t'parties'ere." He sighed and rolled his eyes ever so slightly. "An' I got plenny t'wear. I'm jus' not goin't'this party. 'Cause uh the sick." If everyone at Amityville caught what he had they would have more to worry about than rogue teachers and disappearing students.

West wanted to see this new dress she planned to wear, as ridiculous as the desire sounded in his head. He could only vaguely recall what the one he had shredded had looked like when Levi had worn it, but he seemed to remember ribbon and a lot of white. Another pang of regret struck him and he suppressed a shiver in its wake. Leaning slightly closer to the ghoul again, West plucked the plate of spookies away from her tail and carefully perched it on his left palm. "I think... uh... y'should... have fun? Yeah. Go an' have fun." Without me. "And thanks. Fer the spookies." Please. Go.

As soon as she had gone, West dropped the plate of spookies onto his bed and rushed over to the door. He froze in place several feet away, his mind now clear enough to recognize that it would be a really bad idea to go any further. His limbs still rebelled, however, trembling as he kept them from doing so. When West finally turned back to the bed, he muttered a few choice expletives at the sight of the crumbs now spread across his mattress.

A short time and a lot of angry sweeping later, the demon sat at his desk, dejectedly chewing on a spookie. They really were quite good. Too bad he wasn't enjoying it nearly as much as he might have if his mind hadn't been occupied with unpleasantness.

Could he go after all? Had last year's Scarentine's dance really been that horribly awkward? (Yes.) Shrugging off his perfectly justified reluctance, West picked up his eyePhone from where it rested on the desk in front of him and searched his contacts for the number of his father's tailor.

"Hey, uh, Kerrit? Y'got any time t'make like a red vest'r somethin'? Fer Scarentine's, yeah..."