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Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 17:56:02 GMT
Winter is coming.
He's cold, so he sneezes. The cigarette still burns through the two fingers holding it together, and thinks it looks beautiful. Not so beautiful in his lungs, but it looks beautiful out here and he could watch it whisper into the cold air for as long as he could without freezing to his death out here.
The floor is cold. Hard, cold. Cold, and he's stiff he realises, when he tries to tense his shoulders as he drags himself to an upright sitting position. His mouth is dry, and the ash sprinkles onto his school trousers.
To most, the school's roof is inaccessible. Not many even knows of the door's existence. Frank found it by exploring, and hasn't told a soul. He frowns to himself and wonders for the expanse of time and how many days it is before he can go home again.
So he sits, watches listless clouds, and waits for Noemi to show up.
@noemi
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Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 18:08:13 GMT
AS SHE WALKS ONTO THE TERRACE she's wiping the feel of another boy's mouth off her lips the her sleeve. This is the world she's created, and her legs are cold because she's only wearing a skirt (which is rolled up so it ends just underneath her ass) with stockings, a thick jacket over her uniform but it only goes to her hips. There's a run in both legs of the tights, one by the knee and one on the inside of her thigh.
This is hallowed ground, it's not the space beneath a stair well or a dorm room. This is just them, and Noémi likes it that way. She's smart enough to not spoil it with hands or kisses. Some things have to remain sacred.
She sits next to him without saying anything. The wind is cold and it blows her hair so it sticks to her chapped lips. Nae takes out a cold hand and brushes it away. There's something hollow in her - maybe it's better to say the absence of something. She flops down onto her back, knees bent in the air.
"Why's it so fucking cold," she says in French. They aren't supposed to use it in school. Something about fluency in immersion.
@frank
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Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 19:54:45 GMT
He doesn't move, not at first, when he hears her footsteps stop right next to him. He takes another drag instead, rests his head on her shoulder and using his free hand, goes to hold one of hers more as an effort to warm it up than anything.
"Because it is." Is his stupid, pathetic answer. He sighs then, and takes another drag. "Body warmth." Is his excuse.
@noemi
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Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 21:40:26 GMT
ALLOWING HIM TO REST HIS HEAD on her shoulder means rebuffing his hand. It's warm, calloused, and she doesn't care about it. After she feels it, she drops it and puts both hands in her pockets.
They say you attract more flies with honey than vinegar, but Noémi has never had a problem. She turns her head so her nose and lips are in his hair, she breathes in and everything smells cold. She can see her breath when she exhales, like a halo on Frank's head. She laughs a little to herself, then looks back off the roof.
No one's outside, she can see snow starting to fall further away, off campus.
"You're ruining your voice," she snatches the cigarette from him and feigns throwing it off the roof. She takes a short drag and offers it back - the cigarette hangs precariously in her slightly shivering hands. Nae should get mittens.
@frank
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Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 21:49:05 GMT
"You're colder." He groans. He knew she didn't like contact, but at least she didn't mind him leaning so much on her. His lips laid slack, dry and coarse, so he licked them to make sure they wouldn't start bleeding.
"What? I never thought you-" And when she hands his cigarette back to him, he laughs and takes another drag. He feels a little warmer now, but he knows the heat is a fleeting thing.
"Didn't think you'd smoke either." Noemi is like some kind of newly discovered island - beautiful, lusted after by many, but uninhabited and full of unexplored wildlife. You never know, bloodsuckers might live there.
@noemi
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Post by Deleted on Jan 6, 2014 0:11:03 GMT
"LIKE ICE," SHE SAYS WITH A SMILE, the kind of smile that hints at a secret.
Noémi is unsure if things will ever change. Will she always be this, a polar icecap, an avalanche? Somewhere underneath her there is magma, begging to break the surface with a hiss and steam. Begs to yell, begs to feel. She can silence it by looking in the mirror.
"When in Rome," she says blithely. She doesn't think about going home, she doesn't think about that test that's coming up. Nae doesn't think about the three boys who are into her - the ones all that make all the other girls jealous. Her attention is focused on this boy who wants her, who will never get her.
At least not in the way he wants.
She shrugs her shoulders, an indication she wants him off.
@frank
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Post by Deleted on Jan 6, 2014 20:21:27 GMT
He laughs, but he's not sure why. He does that a lot.
"Can't say there's anything wrong with that." He's comfortable here, and it's as if he can almost forget the cold. The clouds are dreary, the weather's shit, and there's homework waiting for him at his dorm, and there's nowhere else he'd rather be than here with Noemi. He almost thinks this is love, and he likes to label it that way, so he could forget he's unsure about it all.
He moves himself upright like a doll, takes a final drag and stuffs out the cigarette. He's not about to light up another one; those little shits are expensive as fuck, so he rubs his hands instead and complains about the cold.
"What are you doing over the Christmas holidays?" He asks, only because he can't think of anything better to say.
@noemi
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2014 0:50:28 GMT
FRANK DOESN'T KNOW THE CIRCUMSTANCES, her romantic and pathetic parents who are no where to be found, her grandparents who sit straight faced at every dinner and the Christmas tree that's a little off. Gift cards and no wrapping paper, a sterile room.
She supposes it's not so bad - it's better than anger and yelling, it's better than nothing. And you won't hear her complain.
He knows the situation but not the circumstances.
"Going home," she says blandly. Noémi sighs and then flops down on her back, looking up at the sky. It's soft and blue, the clouds are lazy, the birds are busy. And Noémi is never-changing. "What else?"
@frank
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Post by Deleted on Jan 23, 2014 6:56:15 GMT
He peers down at the ground in front of him.
"I know it's a bit unorthodox, but... do you wanna come over for Christmas? That is, if your game isn't that great. Your choice, refuse at will." He tried to sound casual, and he tried to not get his hopes up; either or didn't really work out very well for him. He twiddled with his fingers, cautious, regretting asking her at all by this stage.
@noemi
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Post by Deleted on Jan 24, 2014 5:13:13 GMT
She absently tugs on her shoes, where they're tight around her ankles. This past spring, a jaded girl poured boiling water on her. This coming spring she'll be splayed on a desk ruining Frank's life - she doesn't know that yet. Nae can't see the grand scheme of things; only to how to leave before she is left. She only knows how to hurt and doesn't think about healing.
She doesn't know that she won't graduate with him, that he'll hardly graduate at all. She'll build an empire out of nameless men's money. She'll wear a different pair of shoes every day and at her dull hospitality job, they'll whisper. She'll lounge in the rumors, they'll be so comfortable and fit like her own skin.
It'll be empty.
Nae doesn't know that after that, there's more. She doesn't know he'll rip into her life like a bullet, puncturing all her organs without permission. He won't say sorry. His face will look so much different than it does now, after he told her he didn't love her.
Ignorance is bliss.
"Yeah, that's real sweet," she looks at the sky for a minute. "but, yeah, nah. It'll be fine." She says it like an after thought. Oh, I almost forgot you were there.
@frank
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Post by Deleted on Jan 29, 2014 18:01:23 GMT
The wind howls and cuts through the air, and it's almost enough to distract him from the sadness that should come with Nae's rejection. So he hurts for a second, and tries to think of something else, only for that thought to be interrupted by a hazy yawn.
He blinks, but he's already losing touch.
"Nae, I serious-" Yawn. "Seriously... think-" Louder. "Something's wron-"
His eyelids droop and he thinks he's dropping to her side, and he's scared again. He's scared. He's been falling asleep in daylight nearly every day now.
@noemi
//gomen burd gomen
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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2014 2:10:29 GMT
At this point she's almost used to his drowsiness, and when he lurches against her shoulder, Nae wraps her arms around him. He's already asleep, so this is fine.
She presses her face to the crown of his head, her nose buried against his hairline. He smells like winter and cigarette smoke, and Noémi closes her eyes for a minute.
She'll leave him here when she goes, but she'll grab Jacques or another boy, or one of the several girls that drool over Frank and hope he'll finger fuck them by the lockers. Nae is never, ever jealous of them. She thinks that they're silly, of course, but Frank isn't inviting any of them home.
Now Noémi presses her lips against his forehead, and it's cold and she doesn't want to let him go but this is just one minute out of an hour, out of a day, out of a month. This will past, it's a fraction of a feeling and she'll only indulge in it for as long as she's comfortable. Then she's uncomfortable and she lets go, letting the boy slouch forward in his slumber.
Bye.
@frank
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2014 14:29:01 GMT
[attr="class","profn"]GOOD JOB [attr="class","profb"] BOO and BIRDIE each receive 2 nectar for completing a thread. |
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