i was seven (and you were nine) - #ysm
title: i was seven (and you were nine)
fandom: #ysm
rating: the g-est of g's.
pairing: #lamona
summary: Ramona is crying.
author's note:one of the many snapshots of the #ysm little kid!AU that Craze suggested like four seconds ago on twitter.
Ramona is crying.
She’s sitting on the curb of the blacktop, head in her hands, tears teetering dangerously on the edges of her lashes, ready to spill over, when a little girl interrupts her by poking her, hard, in the shoulder. That’s annoying.
“What?” She asks in a watery voice, hands still covering most of her face. The other girl looks at her face uneasily for a moment.
“You’re crying.” She says. Ramona nods, suddenly remembering that yes, she was sad, and yes, she is crying, before tears start welling up in her eyes again. The other girl’s eyes widen before she shakes a hand out in front of her. “No, no, no, I don’t mean start again.” She hovers for a lingering moment before sitting down next to Ramona on the curb. “Why were you crying?”
Ramona points to the spot on her knee just below her dress, where her stockings are torn and her knee is a little red. “I fell.” She says, her eyes stinging. “And my stockings got all ripped.”
The little girl examines her knee closely, curly brown hair falling in her face. “Well,” She says slowly. “I think they look pretty neat with the knee all ripped, though.”
Ramona looks down at her knee again, and yeah, they do look kind of neat with the knee ripped. “Huh.” She says, tears receding. “They do, I guess.”
The other girl rolls her eyes, suddenly smiling. “Well of course they do.” She says, and right then Ramona knows that she likes this girl. “I’m Sara.” She pauses, her face scrunching up like she tasted one of the really sour lollipops that they sell at the corner store. “But I hate that name. I like Lucy better. Call me Lucy.” She says, and she doesn’t stand up and stick her hand out the way adults do when they meet each other, but instead she leans into Ramona’s side, as if that was a normal greeting.
“I’ m Ramona.” Ramona answers, a little shy. “I mean, everyone calls me that, no one calls me my real name because it’s silly. Ramona is prettier.”
“You look like a Ramona.” Lucy says, nodding. “Ramona is a pretty name, and you’re a pretty person, so it matches.”
A flush fills her cheeks as Ramona leans back in to Lucy’s shoulder, smiling.
“Thanks, Lucy.” She says, and then, after a minute: “I think we’re going to be friends forever.”
Lucy snorts. “Well, duh.”
fandom: #ysm
rating: the g-est of g's.
pairing: #lamona
summary: Ramona is crying.
author's note:one of the many snapshots of the #ysm little kid!AU that Craze suggested like four seconds ago on twitter.
Ramona is crying.
She’s sitting on the curb of the blacktop, head in her hands, tears teetering dangerously on the edges of her lashes, ready to spill over, when a little girl interrupts her by poking her, hard, in the shoulder. That’s annoying.
“What?” She asks in a watery voice, hands still covering most of her face. The other girl looks at her face uneasily for a moment.
“You’re crying.” She says. Ramona nods, suddenly remembering that yes, she was sad, and yes, she is crying, before tears start welling up in her eyes again. The other girl’s eyes widen before she shakes a hand out in front of her. “No, no, no, I don’t mean start again.” She hovers for a lingering moment before sitting down next to Ramona on the curb. “Why were you crying?”
Ramona points to the spot on her knee just below her dress, where her stockings are torn and her knee is a little red. “I fell.” She says, her eyes stinging. “And my stockings got all ripped.”
The little girl examines her knee closely, curly brown hair falling in her face. “Well,” She says slowly. “I think they look pretty neat with the knee all ripped, though.”
Ramona looks down at her knee again, and yeah, they do look kind of neat with the knee ripped. “Huh.” She says, tears receding. “They do, I guess.”
The other girl rolls her eyes, suddenly smiling. “Well of course they do.” She says, and right then Ramona knows that she likes this girl. “I’m Sara.” She pauses, her face scrunching up like she tasted one of the really sour lollipops that they sell at the corner store. “But I hate that name. I like Lucy better. Call me Lucy.” She says, and she doesn’t stand up and stick her hand out the way adults do when they meet each other, but instead she leans into Ramona’s side, as if that was a normal greeting.
“I’ m Ramona.” Ramona answers, a little shy. “I mean, everyone calls me that, no one calls me my real name because it’s silly. Ramona is prettier.”
“You look like a Ramona.” Lucy says, nodding. “Ramona is a pretty name, and you’re a pretty person, so it matches.”
A flush fills her cheeks as Ramona leans back in to Lucy’s shoulder, smiling.
“Thanks, Lucy.” She says, and then, after a minute: “I think we’re going to be friends forever.”
Lucy snorts. “Well, duh.”