Not sure if there’s any further preamble that needs to be here, which makes it hard to put up something to precede the More tag. Perhaps I shall have to think of something. One thing I can think of is that it might not be clear that the actual content is behind a More tag, both in this post and in the first one. I think some people might have missed that in the first one because WordPress scheduled the post wrong and other related hijinx.
pretendinaryfriend: 0h h3ll n0 u cant just tak3 that 0ut 0f c0nt3xt
heliotropicalica –> Persephone
She was only mostly joking. Persephone was still living under her father’s roof and therefore his thumb. As far as Papa told it, she wouldn’t be allowed to date until she was thirty. When he was particularly incensed, typically after watching the news or reading Agelioforos, she wouldn’t have put it past him to go out and arrange her marriage somehow.
So when a friend whom she regarded fondly enough to tag as a “BFF” in her chat client told her he had had a dream about marrying her, she could hardly be blamed for getting excited.
Even better, he was one of the small circle of friends of whom she had photographs. He was kind of a grump and blocked and unblocked her regularly. But he was definitely cute, actually her age–that same small circle to which he belonged was mostly comprised of people more than three years her elder–and as insulting as he could be, he never said she was stupid or silly.
She pressed covered her knees with her hands and pressed those down with her chin. Just in case she felt the need to interrupt and he decided not to tell her the rest of his dream.
It was actually kind of creepy, she realised, after a few lines of text. Not in a way that reflected badly on Travis. He couldn’t help what he dreamed about.
It did make her wish he’d just been hitting on her, though. He was too serious by half.
pretendinaryfriend –> Travis
Travis had a habit of talking out loud when he typed. He lived in a house full of people, so this was a bad habit to have, but he continued it out of bad grace and because he knew none of his older brothers or any of their friends or girlfriends gave a shit.
“There was this… I dunno. A room. Full of windows. It was actually kinda cool, ya know? But then there was this huge fuck-off church bell in the middle of the room. You flew in from one of the windows, and it closed off with this stained glass thingy. Looked like a three-headed dog, all gnashing its teeth, but it was trapped in a diamond. Like. Princess cut diamond. And pink. And you had on this dress, this huge pimped out fairy tale wedding upholstery. You looked like a friggin snowy mountain. Only. I dunno. Kinda pretty.”
She didn’t interrupt once. Even when he used the word ‘pretty’, which he almost couldn’t say out loud.
This was sort of why he had brought up his dream in the first place. It was awkward, and embarrassing, and he had nearly punched himself in the face for waking up with a smile… But. He could always tell this chick anything. She wasn’t always the best listener, her English was occasionally very limited, especially when he was waxing eloquent and showing off his precocious major.
But something about this dream was really bothering him, and when it came down to it, Persephone knew when to keep her hands off her keyboard.