[ the punch doesn't come — and luke can't say if he's disappointed by the lack of fire she usually has (or had, luke doesn't know this clarisse; he has to keep reminding himself that the girl he remembers is a ghost, now. he had had a hand in pushing her into the past) or if he's pleased she isn't bruising his shoulder or snapping the bones of his nose. it's a conflict he never predicted he'd be warring with himself over. ]
[ he curls his fingers into his palm, waiting for the tingling sensation of them being burned to fade away. his eyes linger on her hands before flickering up to her face. she has pretty eyes, always had, but seeing them up close, and her so still, as she's always such a tornado around him, fists flying, hair whipping, and them both running after one another in a bid to be the first to reach the flag. ]
Ensuite's back there. [ he throws a thumb over his shoulder. but it would require him to step aside or for her to barrel into him if she wanted to pass the threshold into his room. luke doesn't quite realise that, with the little space he's left between the doorframe and himself, only a tiny, little mouse can fit through without touching him. ]
[ he'd make a quip about her changing while in his own room, with the door closed, even, but luke doesn't find himself finding the right words to even express it. this is unfamiliar territory between two people who have grown, one from sadness and grief, and the other from rage and pity. keeping it to a minimum with the burning quips, whether insulting or simply to ruffle her feathers, is best. besides, he doesn't think he can even let the words out of his mouth without jumbling them up right now. clarisse has made his head spin ever since she demanded he take her home. ]
no subject
[ he curls his fingers into his palm, waiting for the tingling sensation of them being burned to fade away. his eyes linger on her hands before flickering up to her face. she has pretty eyes, always had, but seeing them up close, and her so still, as she's always such a tornado around him, fists flying, hair whipping, and them both running after one another in a bid to be the first to reach the flag. ]
Ensuite's back there. [ he throws a thumb over his shoulder. but it would require him to step aside or for her to barrel into him if she wanted to pass the threshold into his room. luke doesn't quite realise that, with the little space he's left between the doorframe and himself, only a tiny, little mouse can fit through without touching him. ]
[ he'd make a quip about her changing while in his own room, with the door closed, even, but luke doesn't find himself finding the right words to even express it. this is unfamiliar territory between two people who have grown, one from sadness and grief, and the other from rage and pity. keeping it to a minimum with the burning quips, whether insulting or simply to ruffle her feathers, is best. besides, he doesn't think he can even let the words out of his mouth without jumbling them up right now. clarisse has made his head spin ever since she demanded he take her home. ]