:k s e n i a:
I didn't hear him right away and I wondered if something was wrong, turing to look over my shoulder as I ran into the living room. It was probably a bad idea, because I ended up tripping over the rug and apologizing to the floor. It might have been a good thing â the rug had slowed me down and put me back in my right state of mind, though my knees hurt a little and I heard Mom yell from the kitchen that I was nineteen years old and I knew better than to run in the house. It was true, and so I just hung my head, walking into the dining room and sitting in the usual seat of mine as I waited for Viena. He wasn't far behind me, taking a seat next to mine in silence, dropping his head to the table, which made me a little uncomfortable, like someone had said something inappropriate at a party and everyone else had shut up at that exact moment. That kind of uncomfortable, you know? I wanted to reach over for his hand, just because I could now, but as I turned to him, Len walked into the room, pulled out her chair across from me and stared hard, probably waiting for something to happen. I wasn't sure what she was expecting, but whatever it was I could be certain that she was hoping it wasn't clean, and I really don't want to get into why she was probably most certainly waiting for me to do something dirty â all I can say is that it involves a diary and an ex-boyfriend. That's all you need to know.... Enough of this subject... it's embarrassing to talk about so, we can just... move on, right? Yes? Right. Alena raised her eyebrows when she noticed me staring at her and then slowly grinned, like something was funny. She pulled her feet up onto the chair next to her, crossing her arms over her chest, that smug look taunting me from across the table. It made my chest tighten, and I felt like I'd already lost whatever it was that she was challenging me to. Finally, she leaned forward, resting her arms on the table and looking a little more closely at us. It was completely silent, except for Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen, and Feliks whining because he wanted to watch cartoons in stead of eat dinner with the family.
"You should move your chairs closer; you look so detattched from eachother."
I didn't look away from her, but I knew that my nose was beginning to turn red, which would spread into a burn across my cheeks and into my hairs to heat my ears, because that's always the way it goes when I blush. Yes, there are stages of my blushing, depending on the severity of the situation, a Category Two being just my nose (usually meaning minor frustration or embarrassment) and a Category Six being my whole face and chest (if you can't figure out the sorts of things that would cause this... I'm ashamed of you). If you must know, a Category One is basically slight heating, but barely any colour, and it usually escalates into a Category Two sooner or later. The point is that I wasn't sure whether I was embarrassed or frustrated, but after a minute, her phone buzzed and distracted her. I took the oppertunity to check on Viena, noticing a cowlick on the side of his head and reached over out of instinct to smooth it down. I found that it was kind of a stubborn little thing, and I hate to say it but it actually pissed me off. I had to keep telling myself that it was part of Viena's head, or I might've ripped it out. In stead, I put my hands down in my lap and leaned my head down on the table to watch him, completely giving up. Now, while I could still hear Len's furious thumb action across the table, I reached over for one of his hands and stared. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was having second thoughts or something (though really, if he were, putting his head down on the table in stead of just talking to me about it was a very immature way to deal with his feelings) and I couldn't help but feel a little hurt for him. I could hear him close to me, loud and clear, with my Melody being ignored as much as possible while the repeating song was drilled further and further into my mind. I listened hard to the harmony, waiting for an imperfection, but before I could get halfway through the loops, Dad walked in and told us to get our heads off the table so he could set it. It wasn't a request either; I sat up straight, let him set the table and waited for him to leave, telling Len that she wasn't allowed to use her phone at the dinner table, to which she replied with quite a bit of foul languaged protests, and ended it with the sound of her phone shutting off. She got up to go get Feliks, leaving just the two of us in the dining room together.
"Hey, Viena? Are you alright?" It didn't really occur to me that it was something my mother had done. Really, I understood that it was her idea of a joke, and maybe she's a little insensitive, but she can't help that she was raised with very straight-laced, no-nonsense parents. It really isn't her fault. I thought that he might be sick because we were out in the cold for so long, and he doesn't withstand winter the way I do. It was also a possibility that the last ten minutes had given him a chance to think about us, and maybe he was second guessing. I didn't want to say anything about the sinking in my chest that was anchoring me to my chair, because I'd feel stupid if it had nothing to do with that. Besides, there's nothing more annoying than a paranoid boyfriend who thinks that they're always doing something wrong and constantly nags you about wanting to dump them, even if you don't. I couldn't be that annoying so early on. There was a chance that I might ask once within the time we spent together, but not now. The last thing I wanted was to encourage that kind of thinking by hinting that I may believe that his depressed demeanor had anything to do with our relationship. Our relationship.... Our relationship. To think that anything was ours â belonged to both of us together â made me shudder. And that was another one â together. I was both scared and excited by the idea that we shared something other than my shovel from fourteen years ago.
I didn't hear him right away and I wondered if something was wrong, turing to look over my shoulder as I ran into the living room. It was probably a bad idea, because I ended up tripping over the rug and apologizing to the floor. It might have been a good thing â the rug had slowed me down and put me back in my right state of mind, though my knees hurt a little and I heard Mom yell from the kitchen that I was nineteen years old and I knew better than to run in the house. It was true, and so I just hung my head, walking into the dining room and sitting in the usual seat of mine as I waited for Viena. He wasn't far behind me, taking a seat next to mine in silence, dropping his head to the table, which made me a little uncomfortable, like someone had said something inappropriate at a party and everyone else had shut up at that exact moment. That kind of uncomfortable, you know? I wanted to reach over for his hand, just because I could now, but as I turned to him, Len walked into the room, pulled out her chair across from me and stared hard, probably waiting for something to happen. I wasn't sure what she was expecting, but whatever it was I could be certain that she was hoping it wasn't clean, and I really don't want to get into why she was probably most certainly waiting for me to do something dirty â all I can say is that it involves a diary and an ex-boyfriend. That's all you need to know.... Enough of this subject... it's embarrassing to talk about so, we can just... move on, right? Yes? Right. Alena raised her eyebrows when she noticed me staring at her and then slowly grinned, like something was funny. She pulled her feet up onto the chair next to her, crossing her arms over her chest, that smug look taunting me from across the table. It made my chest tighten, and I felt like I'd already lost whatever it was that she was challenging me to. Finally, she leaned forward, resting her arms on the table and looking a little more closely at us. It was completely silent, except for Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen, and Feliks whining because he wanted to watch cartoons in stead of eat dinner with the family.
"You should move your chairs closer; you look so detattched from eachother."
I didn't look away from her, but I knew that my nose was beginning to turn red, which would spread into a burn across my cheeks and into my hairs to heat my ears, because that's always the way it goes when I blush. Yes, there are stages of my blushing, depending on the severity of the situation, a Category Two being just my nose (usually meaning minor frustration or embarrassment) and a Category Six being my whole face and chest (if you can't figure out the sorts of things that would cause this... I'm ashamed of you). If you must know, a Category One is basically slight heating, but barely any colour, and it usually escalates into a Category Two sooner or later. The point is that I wasn't sure whether I was embarrassed or frustrated, but after a minute, her phone buzzed and distracted her. I took the oppertunity to check on Viena, noticing a cowlick on the side of his head and reached over out of instinct to smooth it down. I found that it was kind of a stubborn little thing, and I hate to say it but it actually pissed me off. I had to keep telling myself that it was part of Viena's head, or I might've ripped it out. In stead, I put my hands down in my lap and leaned my head down on the table to watch him, completely giving up. Now, while I could still hear Len's furious thumb action across the table, I reached over for one of his hands and stared. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was having second thoughts or something (though really, if he were, putting his head down on the table in stead of just talking to me about it was a very immature way to deal with his feelings) and I couldn't help but feel a little hurt for him. I could hear him close to me, loud and clear, with my Melody being ignored as much as possible while the repeating song was drilled further and further into my mind. I listened hard to the harmony, waiting for an imperfection, but before I could get halfway through the loops, Dad walked in and told us to get our heads off the table so he could set it. It wasn't a request either; I sat up straight, let him set the table and waited for him to leave, telling Len that she wasn't allowed to use her phone at the dinner table, to which she replied with quite a bit of foul languaged protests, and ended it with the sound of her phone shutting off. She got up to go get Feliks, leaving just the two of us in the dining room together.
"Hey, Viena? Are you alright?" It didn't really occur to me that it was something my mother had done. Really, I understood that it was her idea of a joke, and maybe she's a little insensitive, but she can't help that she was raised with very straight-laced, no-nonsense parents. It really isn't her fault. I thought that he might be sick because we were out in the cold for so long, and he doesn't withstand winter the way I do. It was also a possibility that the last ten minutes had given him a chance to think about us, and maybe he was second guessing. I didn't want to say anything about the sinking in my chest that was anchoring me to my chair, because I'd feel stupid if it had nothing to do with that. Besides, there's nothing more annoying than a paranoid boyfriend who thinks that they're always doing something wrong and constantly nags you about wanting to dump them, even if you don't. I couldn't be that annoying so early on. There was a chance that I might ask once within the time we spent together, but not now. The last thing I wanted was to encourage that kind of thinking by hinting that I may believe that his depressed demeanor had anything to do with our relationship. Our relationship.... Our relationship. To think that anything was ours â belonged to both of us together â made me shudder. And that was another one â together. I was both scared and excited by the idea that we shared something other than my shovel from fourteen years ago.