Oh, hey, who'da thunk that Dee would be right there. Wow. Girl is obsessed. Just a little.
She bolts into the office/lobby after him, calling his name.
"Ramon! Ramon! Hey, where the hell have you been, I was worried about you. I heard a shot at the meeting last night, and then you vanished! I thought..."
Good thing Ramon just equates that to being friendly. Or eager to be with someone. Because he knows NOTHING about getting clingy with an individual you want to be friends with, right, St. John?
When he hears his name being called, it's also a good thing that he recognizes the voice. Ramon turns around and might have attempted a smile, but it sort of dies when he hears what she was talking about.
Scripted reaction, last resort, 19. Just Can't Help Myself Hug.
She throws her arms around his middle and hugs him tightly, noticing how very weirdly nice that feels. She usually never hugs people. This is what she does if a john just loves to think he's a hero. Saving her. His little princess whore. Fuck you, Julia Roberts.
Hugging worries her. This was getting out of control. Fast. WHY?
"I don't want to think about it anymore. I'm glad you're okay."
Oh, good, she doesn't want to think about it! Neither does he. Obviously. He lets out a sigh and then give a very careful hug back. Man, he's touching more people in this past week than he has in his entire life.
"Mm, th-thanks. Glad you're...okay too." Not sure if she was ever in the way of danger, but still. It's the nice thing to say and it's what he's feeling. He wouldn't like it if he heard that one of his new friends got hurt or scared from all of that last night.
"Did you come here just to...check up on me?" People being concerned for his welfare this closely is a new sensation too. Not a bad one, mind. Much like the new thing that is 'friendly, physical contact'. Which is still going on with this hug.
Finally, after about ten seconds, she pulls back, steps back. Pouts. Wibbles. These are the nuclear weapons in the war of the sexes. Ought to be outlawed by the Geneva Convention.
"...Do you not like girls? Or...Or d-do you just not like me?"
Then she looks down at her feet and sniffles up a few crocodile tears.
Oh. Oh man, this is spiraling way too fast out of his control and comfort range. Well, not that it was ever under his control to begin with. First she was kissing him, and now she's crying and...did she just ask if he was gay?
"D-Dee, wait, I-...I l-like you! I, um...I like g-girls too." In an abstract way. Theoretically. Since he's, you know, never BEEN with one in ANY sense of the word. "I'm j-j-just-...You, um, su-surprised me and-...D-Dee, don't cry. I'm sorry, I-I like you!" He carefully takes one of her arms, feeling astoundingly at a loss as to what he should do to make this right. "I didn't, y-you know, mean to h-hurt your feelings..."
He almost looks like he's ready to jump back again, surprised once more at her sudden request, cornered one more time into something that he all but doesn't understand. How did it come to this? They've only just met! And yet...he just wants to make her happy...
For someone who's as awkward and unsure as he's feeling, the way he holds either side of her face is remarkably tender. He doesn't want to make her stand up on her tiptoes anymore than she has to, so the height gap between then is closed by him bending down to her.
And only a few more seconds of hesitation, thanks to the nervous buzzing inside his mind, before he brushes his lips against hers. Getting a feel for it again. Then he takes a small breath before pressing his lips more firmly. She tastes like faintly like cigarettes and caramel. For some reason, he's not surprised by this; his mind, still reeling with confusion and nerves, thinks languidly that that's what Dee should taste like.
She lets him retreat, and stares at him for a long, long moment.
The silence is eventually broken by the subtle 'snik' of her knife getting folded back up, and she slips it back in her pocket.
If she didn't know any better, she'd say that Ramon had dropped some bad acid or was tweaking. But he didn't show any of the signs. Yes, he was all skin and bones, but in a surprisingly healthy way. She knew the type of thin somebody got when they were using. Hell, she was on the edge of it herself. Only thing that saved her was a layer of baby-fat still around her elbows, her knees, her cheeks.
"What did you see, Ramon? Tell me."
It's not a question. It's an order. If there's somebody sniffing around her cabin, she wants them gone.
His heart is still thudding harder than is should be in his chest and he keeps his head down, too embarrassed and, yes, scared of Dee to meet her eyes. He hopes she doesn't make him walk back to town alone. On top of having to dodge that man out there (he's one of the 'angry ones', no doubt about it; he'll chase him), he might get lost in those woods. Not a pleasant idea.
Ramon's started to tug on his sleeves and shuffle his feet, trying to think of what he can say to even make his freak-out sound remotely plausible. What, he saw a person? An animal? Even then, that doesn't explain very well why he was having a fit over her opening the curtains again.
"...I-If I tell you, you'll think I'm-...That I'm cr-crazy..."
Already do, is the immediate thought that springs to mind. But she's good enough to keep it firmly unsaid. She can tell she's scaring him, both by being armed and by her posture and voice.
So, slowly, she kneels down where she stands, putting herself on a level with him, even across the room. There's a mystery here, and she wants to know what's going on.
"I won't. I promise. Please tell me?"
Carefully moderating her voice to keep the tension out of it. To make herself sound concerned and sincere and soft. Putting on the 'lonely and worried girl' act she can do in her sleep.
He's still staring on the floor, indeed having sunk down to a sitting position on the floor, long legs splayed out in front of him, arms still wrapped tight around himself. He really has no choice but to spill it, does he? How many people is he going to tell? How long before he tells the wrong person? Is Dee one he should tell?
Ramon gnaws at his lower lip, staring down at the ground, focused on a little knothole in the wooden floor. Staring at it, but not seeing it, turning over in his mind what he should say. What he can say. But he blinks when he sees a set of thin, black legs poke up out of the hole. And slowly, a small spider draws itself up and sits meditatively on the floor. Ramon, seeming to have slipped into another one of his blank, thought-processing states, slowly reaches a hand down, placing it in front of the arachnid. It crawls on without hesitation, happily scurrying over his fingers. The young man watches it for a time before he eventually cups his other hand over it, clasping them in front of him and holding the
( ... )
Comments 66
She bolts into the office/lobby after him, calling his name.
"Ramon! Ramon! Hey, where the hell have you been, I was worried about you. I heard a shot at the meeting last night, and then you vanished! I thought..."
Reply
When he hears his name being called, it's also a good thing that he recognizes the voice. Ramon turns around and might have attempted a smile, but it sort of dies when he hears what she was talking about.
"Y-Yeah. It was...pretty bad."
Reply
She throws her arms around his middle and hugs him tightly, noticing how very weirdly nice that feels. She usually never hugs people. This is what she does if a john just loves to think he's a hero. Saving her. His little princess whore. Fuck you, Julia Roberts.
Hugging worries her. This was getting out of control. Fast. WHY?
"I don't want to think about it anymore. I'm glad you're okay."
Reply
"Mm, th-thanks. Glad you're...okay too." Not sure if she was ever in the way of danger, but still. It's the nice thing to say and it's what he's feeling. He wouldn't like it if he heard that one of his new friends got hurt or scared from all of that last night.
"Did you come here just to...check up on me?" People being concerned for his welfare this closely is a new sensation too. Not a bad one, mind. Much like the new thing that is 'friendly, physical contact'. Which is still going on with this hug.
Reply
Part of what makes this fun, tho.
Finally, after about ten seconds, she pulls back, steps back. Pouts. Wibbles. These are the nuclear weapons in the war of the sexes. Ought to be outlawed by the Geneva Convention.
"...Do you not like girls? Or...Or d-do you just not like me?"
Then she looks down at her feet and sniffles up a few crocodile tears.
Reply
"D-Dee, wait, I-...I l-like you! I, um...I like g-girls too." In an abstract way. Theoretically. Since he's, you know, never BEEN with one in ANY sense of the word. "I'm j-j-just-...You, um, su-surprised me and-...D-Dee, don't cry. I'm sorry, I-I like you!" He carefully takes one of her arms, feeling astoundingly at a loss as to what he should do to make this right. "I didn't, y-you know, mean to h-hurt your feelings..."
Reply
She turns her face back up to him, her cheeks surprisingly dry for a girl who just had a crying jag, and grins like a mouse-trap.
"Then kiss me like you mean it, Ramon."
Reply
For someone who's as awkward and unsure as he's feeling, the way he holds either side of her face is remarkably tender. He doesn't want to make her stand up on her tiptoes anymore than she has to, so the height gap between then is closed by him bending down to her.
And only a few more seconds of hesitation, thanks to the nervous buzzing inside his mind, before he brushes his lips against hers. Getting a feel for it again. Then he takes a small breath before pressing his lips more firmly. She tastes like faintly like cigarettes and caramel. For some reason, he's not surprised by this; his mind, still reeling with confusion and nerves, thinks languidly that that's what Dee should taste like.
Reply
The silence is eventually broken by the subtle 'snik' of her knife getting folded back up, and she slips it back in her pocket.
If she didn't know any better, she'd say that Ramon had dropped some bad acid or was tweaking. But he didn't show any of the signs. Yes, he was all skin and bones, but in a surprisingly healthy way. She knew the type of thin somebody got when they were using. Hell, she was on the edge of it herself. Only thing that saved her was a layer of baby-fat still around her elbows, her knees, her cheeks.
"What did you see, Ramon? Tell me."
It's not a question. It's an order. If there's somebody sniffing around her cabin, she wants them gone.
Reply
Ramon's started to tug on his sleeves and shuffle his feet, trying to think of what he can say to even make his freak-out sound remotely plausible. What, he saw a person? An animal? Even then, that doesn't explain very well why he was having a fit over her opening the curtains again.
"...I-If I tell you, you'll think I'm-...That I'm cr-crazy..."
Reply
So, slowly, she kneels down where she stands, putting herself on a level with him, even across the room. There's a mystery here, and she wants to know what's going on.
"I won't. I promise. Please tell me?"
Carefully moderating her voice to keep the tension out of it. To make herself sound concerned and sincere and soft. Putting on the 'lonely and worried girl' act she can do in her sleep.
Reply
Ramon gnaws at his lower lip, staring down at the ground, focused on a little knothole in the wooden floor. Staring at it, but not seeing it, turning over in his mind what he should say. What he can say. But he blinks when he sees a set of thin, black legs poke up out of the hole. And slowly, a small spider draws itself up and sits meditatively on the floor. Ramon, seeming to have slipped into another one of his blank, thought-processing states, slowly reaches a hand down, placing it in front of the arachnid. It crawls on without hesitation, happily scurrying over his fingers. The young man watches it for a time before he eventually cups his other hand over it, clasping them in front of him and holding the ( ... )
Reply
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