[ It is more, it's more by like... enough that he was born almost two hundred years before she was. A crack about how she's always liked older men rises to her lips before she bites it back, swallows it. She can almost feel Waverly's judgemental gaze. Isn't he a little old for you?
A little old-fashioned, maybe. (Except it all makes her realize: she doesn't actually have any idea how old Edward even is. All she knows is that he's still a young man, despite the heaviness of everything he carts around with him. When he smiles, it takes years off him.) Which... is a problem for later, and not one she wants to think about now, especially when she belatedly realizes that all those frustrated thoughts about wanting to be touched, lightly frenetic in the way they focus on how and heat and need, aren't all hers. Confusing warmth swells through her, and she abruptly gives herself a hard mental shake, focusing almost angrily on the boarded-up windows and ice-covered roof of her cabin in order to keep from touching on... any of those thoughts right now. Or again. Or anywhere this asshole might be able to pick up on them.
The outside looks okay, and she leads him up the few porch stairs to the door she'd slammed in his face all those months ago. This time, when she opens it and lets herself in, she keeps it open for him to follow her, sarcasm dripping from her words as she responds to that hopeful offering. '...Maybe the red just means that it's reciprocated.' Yeah, right. ]
You really think we're that lucky?
[ Except even that's a terrifying thought, despite the time she's had to come to terms with what she'd realized the night she chased Willa's faded thread out into the night and Edward had chased after her. He couldn't hide it from her anymore than she can hide her thoughts right now from Konstantin the walking alien incubator. However difficult he finds it to act on whatever he's feeling, she knows now he does feel it, deep and yearning and warm to the touch. It's not just her. She can't pretend any longer that it's just her.
She heads to the stove and starts filling it with kindling and a few small logs, leaving Konstantin to close the door. They can't stay long, but having a fire is a good idea for a lot of reasons, not least to thaw out any frozen pipes. ]
I mean, if you believed that, you'd probably be back with your dude instead of hanging out with me.
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[ It is more, it's more by like... enough that he was born almost two hundred years before she was. A crack about how she's always liked older men rises to her lips before she bites it back, swallows it. She can almost feel Waverly's judgemental gaze. Isn't he a little old for you?
A little old-fashioned, maybe. (Except it all makes her realize: she doesn't actually have any idea how old Edward even is. All she knows is that he's still a young man, despite the heaviness of everything he carts around with him. When he smiles, it takes years off him.) Which... is a problem for later, and not one she wants to think about now, especially when she belatedly realizes that all those frustrated thoughts about wanting to be touched, lightly frenetic in the way they focus on how and heat and need, aren't all hers. Confusing warmth swells through her, and she abruptly gives herself a hard mental shake, focusing almost angrily on the boarded-up windows and ice-covered roof of her cabin in order to keep from touching on... any of those thoughts right now. Or again. Or anywhere this asshole might be able to pick up on them.
The outside looks okay, and she leads him up the few porch stairs to the door she'd slammed in his face all those months ago. This time, when she opens it and lets herself in, she keeps it open for him to follow her, sarcasm dripping from her words as she responds to that hopeful offering. '...Maybe the red just means that it's reciprocated.' Yeah, right. ]
You really think we're that lucky?
[ Except even that's a terrifying thought, despite the time she's had to come to terms with what she'd realized the night she chased Willa's faded thread out into the night and Edward had chased after her. He couldn't hide it from her anymore than she can hide her thoughts right now from Konstantin the walking alien incubator. However difficult he finds it to act on whatever he's feeling, she knows now he does feel it, deep and yearning and warm to the touch. It's not just her. She can't pretend any longer that it's just her.
She heads to the stove and starts filling it with kindling and a few small logs, leaving Konstantin to close the door. They can't stay long, but having a fire is a good idea for a lot of reasons, not least to thaw out any frozen pipes. ]
I mean, if you believed that, you'd probably be back with your dude instead of hanging out with me.