- room 223 - wednesday afternoon - 12/09 -

[cutsthestrings]

As Fiona walked into her room and tossed her bag unceremoniously on the bed, she had to admit the truth to herself: she'd chickened out. Again.

It'd all seemed so simple, so easy as she was sitting at her desk on Tuesday. Go. Go out. Go out, go to Dite, go to Dinah, go to Max, go to Leto, go to anyoneGo to Griff

Comments

[youcantfollow]

Really, it wasn't like Fiona's room was all that far away. After class Griff stopped in the doorway and tapped along the doorframe with his knuckles, hands full of coffee.

Best benefit of not having to walk all the way back from town - the coffee was still hot.

[cutsthestrings]

She almost dropped the camera.

"Wha--" which was cut off as she realized she was being rude and unfair and oh man who was it please don't be Griff please don't be Griff just one more day

"Come in."

Why did that sound so thick?

[youcantfollow]

Griff looked down at the cups in his hands and stacked them awkwardly, using his chin to balance things before opening the door for himself. "Don't get up, I've got it," he said in a teasing tone.

[cutsthestrings]

Griff.

Well.

Fiona took a moment to put the camera away (ie, throw it into her bag), straighten her bed (ie tug the comforter up), and fix her hair (ie, run a hand through it) with the haste and ridiculousness that was utterly normal for any teenager before she went for the door just in time for him to open it.

"Griff!"

...on reflection, she probably shouldn't have sounded quite so surprised, considering the proximity.

"Coffee."

Less surprised, though she realized she was starting to sound rather simple.

"Sit."

Oh, such an improvement, Fiona.