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Post by Skittery on Dec 8, 2011 20:14:29 GMT -5
He stilled for a brief moment, but then squeezed her. "We were drunk," he pointed out.
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Post by Script on Dec 8, 2011 21:13:08 GMT -5
She froze, confused. "I...so?"
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Post by Skittery on Dec 8, 2011 22:14:14 GMT -5
"Uh... I mean... Did...did you...mean it?"
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Post by Script on Dec 8, 2011 22:25:36 GMT -5
She frowned at him, detangling herself from his arms. "Why would I say it if I didn't mean it."
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Post by Skittery on Dec 8, 2011 22:37:00 GMT -5
Oh shit. He was getting himself into some real trouble. "You never say things you don't mean when you're drunk?"
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Post by Script on Dec 8, 2011 22:44:10 GMT -5
She stared at him. She'd finally caved and allowed herself to tell him how she felt, and this was how he responded. She got up, shaking her head. "Just..just forget I said anything." She gave him a sad look, then left the room, heading to the bunkroom.
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Post by Skittery on Dec 9, 2011 18:38:01 GMT -5
Obviously, he sprang up off the couch, catching up to her in about two giant footsteps.
"Maggie, Maggie, wait wait wait..." he said, grabbing hold of her arm gently. "You should forget that I said anything," he told her quietly, in case there were eavesdroppers around. "I didn't...I mean, I just thought...it was too good to be true."
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Post by Script on Dec 9, 2011 18:45:31 GMT -5
She pulled away from him, shaking her head as she walked into the bunkroom. "So, you would assume I didn't mean it? Mike, you know how terrified I am of how strong my feelings are for you, so you would think you'd believe me when I tell you I love you. I just--" She stopped midsentence, staring at her bed. On her pillow sat a fluffy orange tabby cat and a red rose.
She knew exactly who would have put them there. And it couldn't be a good sign.
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Post by Skittery on Dec 9, 2011 18:49:37 GMT -5
It took a few seconds for Skittery to notice what had caught her attention. But it took less than a few seconds for him to know that it wasn't he who'd put a rose on her bed (and a cat? WTF?).
Without a word, he stalked out of the bunkroom.
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Post by Script on Dec 9, 2011 18:54:05 GMT -5
She let out a frustrated breath. "Goddammit." She scooped the cat up, cuddling it a minute, then set it back on the bed, going after Skittery. "Michael. Michael, don't. Don't just walk away from me."
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Post by Skittery on Dec 9, 2011 18:56:12 GMT -5
He was leaning against the wall outside of the bunk room, thoughts flying through his head. "Why would he leave a rose on your bed?" he muttered, staring at the ground.
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Post by Script on Dec 9, 2011 19:00:04 GMT -5
She bit her lip, unsure of the answer herself. "I don't know, Mike. But I know he--he wouldn't just do it to do it. Something's up. I don't know what it is, but it can't be good...he left me his favorite cat..."
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Post by Skittery on Dec 9, 2011 19:03:32 GMT -5
"Well, go find him, then," he said, obviously bitter and obviously jealous. He was never going to win, was he?
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Post by Script on Dec 9, 2011 19:04:58 GMT -5
She winced, hurt by his response. "Mike...I didn't do anything wrong. You can't be mad at me. I'm just worried about him, that's all."
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Post by Skittery on Dec 9, 2011 19:08:09 GMT -5
He crossed his arms, pouting. "I'm not mad at you," he said, though he still didn't look her in the eye. He'd just have to get used to coming in second. "Just go find him." Because he knew deep down she wouldn't be herself until she did.
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