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| Kat McPherson | Apr 29 2008, 01:07 AM |
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(OOC: Eeek! Really sorry Nord!) Kat scowled sullenly at Veran as he crossed the room and picked up a cushion. He was right, and somewhere inside she knew that. The boy's gentle lecture was made all the more grating for his earnestness....and, of course, the fact that he was right. Childishness had replaced awareness and in that moment Kat realised too late what Veran was actually intending on doing with his cushion. Eyes widening the girl attempted to fan the dust clouds back with wild flicks of her hand and lower arm, but still managed to somehow get enough up her nose to cause an almightily sneeze. That along with the wonderful swaying sensation caused by the dancing air and dust brought on an impromptu bout of land-sickness, leaving the girl bracing herself against a sofa's arm and clenching her jaw against the nausea. Veran was still glancing back at her, she noticed, and so did her best to return his looks with stony ones of her own. As the boy finished with the couch and moved on, Kat felt the nausea fade away, yet still she continued to stand there…stubborn and uncertain…not really with any next move to make. Her mulish pride required her to resist her host’s offer of help, and yet that was all that was really stopping her from dissolving into a puddle of submissive tears. Pride… and the aftertaste of fear that still wound its sticky tendrils through her consciousness. It still wasn’t safe here. Seconds ticked by, and watching Veran clean became more and more boring. Food was beginning to sound like a good idea now, she realised, suddenly becoming aware of how dry her mouth was. How long had it been since her last meal? Six? Seven hours? She bit her lip, tiredness slowly wearing down pride...part of her wanted to just throw caution to the wind and give in. But that would be selling out! …A moment later it didn’t matter, as Veran, obviously fed up with their little game, took controll of the situation for her. "Look. Skittles are just going to give you a headache when the sugar rush wears off. You have until I'm done mopping the floor to make your decision: You can either eat what I cook you, or you can have me force-feed you what I cook you. Got it?" In the face of common sense even fools must waver. For pride's sake she hesitated. Secretly counting the seconds in her head…one…two…three…before allowing her shoulders to sag. Kat half dropped, half collapsed sideways; sprawling melodramatically across Veran’s newly dusted couch. She flapped a hand feebly at him in surrender, her voice winy with complaint, “Ugh! Alright already! Fine! Whatever. I don’t care...I just…” she trailed off staring despondantly up at the ceiling. |
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| Wonderland [Open] · Parlor | |
5:41 PM Nov 25
