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So...this week had sucked. It had sucked a surprising amount, actually. And she'd expected it to suck, after she'd went and fucked everything up, but even so, she'd been taken aback by just how much it had sucked anyway.
She'd tried, she'd really tried, to claim a little space, because practically living in Cal's back pocket had only made her stupid, one-sided crush intensify. But even being distant friends felt awful, more awful than just living with an unrequited crush did. So now she was here, awkwardly hanging outside of Cal's door, trying to figure out how apologize, and ask if she could take it all back, and go back to being proper friends. You know, assuming she hadn't torpedo'd everything on Saturday. And assuming that he'd still want to be friends with her once she finished apologizing for everything. He would have every right to tell her to go away until the distance between them was great enough that she wouldn't be able to somehow subconsciously influence gremlin hallucinations or whatever she'd done - because obviously she'd done it - and he wouldn't wake up in the morning sleeping in a junkyard, being emotionally as well as physically uncomfortable.
C'mon, Finch, she scolded herself. Enough fucking around. Put your big girl panties on, knock, and at least apologize.
Okay, she could do this. She raised her knuckles to the wood of the door, knocked three times (on the ceiling if you want me... oh god, why brain? why those lyrics? why now?), and called, "Um, Cal? You here? It's, uh, Arden."
And now to spend every microsecond between now and when (if) he answered freaking out that he might not be there. Or, worse, that he was and he was just staying quiet so she'd go away. Or worse than that-- Well, okay, she didn't have a worse than that, but her brain could probably create one with enough time.
Oh! He could be with the vampire that had flashed him! Yeah, that would be worse. Hey, thanks for that, brain!
Goddess, the trials and tribulations of being eighteen.
[For the completely disinterested Jedi, pls!]
She'd tried, she'd really tried, to claim a little space, because practically living in Cal's back pocket had only made her stupid, one-sided crush intensify. But even being distant friends felt awful, more awful than just living with an unrequited crush did. So now she was here, awkwardly hanging outside of Cal's door, trying to figure out how apologize, and ask if she could take it all back, and go back to being proper friends. You know, assuming she hadn't torpedo'd everything on Saturday. And assuming that he'd still want to be friends with her once she finished apologizing for everything. He would have every right to tell her to go away until the distance between them was great enough that she wouldn't be able to somehow subconsciously influence gremlin hallucinations or whatever she'd done - because obviously she'd done it - and he wouldn't wake up in the morning sleeping in a junkyard, being emotionally as well as physically uncomfortable.
C'mon, Finch, she scolded herself. Enough fucking around. Put your big girl panties on, knock, and at least apologize.
Okay, she could do this. She raised her knuckles to the wood of the door, knocked three times (on the ceiling if you want me... oh god, why brain? why those lyrics? why now?), and called, "Um, Cal? You here? It's, uh, Arden."
And now to spend every microsecond between now and when (if) he answered freaking out that he might not be there. Or, worse, that he was and he was just staying quiet so she'd go away. Or worse than that-- Well, okay, she didn't have a worse than that, but her brain could probably create one with enough time.
Oh! He could be with the vampire that had flashed him! Yeah, that would be worse. Hey, thanks for that, brain!
Goddess, the trials and tribulations of being eighteen.
[For the completely disinterested Jedi, pls!]
