Room 218, Friday Night

[glacial_queen]

Half an hour before the dance was scheduled to begin, Karla was ready. Her hair was done, makeup applied (less expertly than if Emma had done it, but at least passable), and dress--scandalously short by Karla's standards--donned and sensibly kept away from anything that could spill, leak, or stain it. Which meant that Karla was sitting on her bed, dress ruffled out so it didn't crease, not touching anything.

A lot of work and prep (and, to be honest, frustration and now boredom) for a dance Karla wasn't certain she was even going to.

Neither she nor Warren had said anything about going to the dance tonight, either together or separately. In fact, they hadn't even spoken together since their incredibly awkward date on Tuesday. She'd barely been on the island this week, so even if he'd wanted to ask her, he would hardly have had the chance to do so. As for asking him, well, she'd promised to back off and let him have room to come to terms with everything, which pretty much had meant no contact on her part. There were probably--okay, there were almost certainly--better ways to handle this, but damned if Karla could think of any.

Last night, she'd told Raven she doubted they'd be going to the dance and had meant it, but waking up to find the blue rose outside her door and his message about pineapples made her doubt turn to hope. He cared enough to send her a rose, cared enough to find a blue one because it made him think of her. That had to be a sign that things were going to work out...didn't it?

That hope lasted until about forty-five minutes after the dance started. Concern took up another twenty or so and then was followed by the sinking realization that Warren probably wasn't coming. Maybe he was already at the dance. Maybe he'd chosen to skip it entirely. Whatever the reason, he wasn't going to be knocking on her door to offer to escort her tonight.

It was stupid to feel hurt by that, right? Karla was pretty certain the answer to that was a resounding 'yes,' considering the circumstances. It didn't stop her from feeling that way anyway. In seconds her make up was ruined; she hadn't bothered with waterproof and now looked like a raccoon. But the storm was brief and past quickly. Honestly, Karla was tired of crying all the time. It felt like she'd done more of that in the past six weeks than she had in all the years since her parents had died combined. Enough was enough already. Especially over something silly, like a stupid dance she hadn't been asked to anyway.

Jumping up from her bed, she grabbed a knapsack and started shoving clothing into it. Time for a much-overdue visit to Kaeleer, she decided. She'd stay the weekend, maybe even through Monday. Get her head on straight. Figure out a better plan than this waiting around like a damsel in distress. Karla was a Queen, not some shy, shrinking maiden locked away in the tower. The time for crying and hand-wringing was over. Forget this.

Still in her pretty red party dress, Karla snagged her phone and started dialing the number for Portalocity. There'd probably be a wait, but whatever. Maybe she'd spend the time at the dance--she'd bought a pair of tickets herself, just in case Warren had forgotten. Still listening to the phone ring, Karla yanked her door open, just in time to see--

"Warren."

[For the one mentioned, please.]

Comments

[wwiii]

Warren had been good and ready to take off in the other direction down the hallway. He'd gotten this far, as far as her door, because... because there was a dance tonight, and it had seemed like the thing to do, the place to be, and then he'd stood here, staring.

Why in the world had he thought that this was somehow a good idea? Or was it a horrible idea all along, and he'd only told himself that it was a good idea so that he wouldn't spend all night feeling like a heel? Or was it maybe a good idea, just not in any way that he would have expected it to be?

No. No, it was a bad idea, and he had a mind to turn and march right back down the hall to his room, or up the stairs so that he could fly, or...

"Karla."

Well. This wasn't awkward at all.

[glacial_queen]

Karla's phone dropped from nerveless fingers, just as a voice came on saying, "Thank you for calling Portalocity." It sounded tinny and small, at least until hitting the floor made the call disconnect. "I--I wasn't expecting you," she stammered.

Well, not anymore at least. The dress and hairstyle suggested at one point she had, though the ruins of her makeup and the knapsack slung over one shoulder suggested that she was telling the truth about now anyway.

[wwiii]

Warren took in the sight of her, dress, hairstyle, ruined makeup and all, and swallowed something that could very well have been a lump forming in his throat. You know. If Warren had any reason at all to feel bad about any of this. Which he didn't. Right?

...

That didn't stop him.

"Sorry," he said, softly, turning his gaze toward the floor. "I should have called."

And he would have. If he'd only managed to make up his mind that he'd come here and knock on the door. Which he hadn't. Because that was... it was something huge, and now he was fidgeting. Awesome.

[glacial_queen]

"No, no," Karla said, with a quick shake of her head. "I...shouldn't have assumed. I just thought--I shouldn't have assumed," she repeated, cutting off whatever else she was going to say.

Yep. Still awkward.

She knelt down to grab her phone, mostly to have something to do with herself that wasn't fidget or stare at him. "Were you going to knock?" she asked quietly, tucking her phone into her knapsack.

[wwiii]

"I had intended to," Warren replied, nice and vaguely.

He'd spent the better part of half an hour intending to. And another fifteen minutes talking himself down from that. Not to mention the time he'd spent, psyching himself up to getting this far in the first place.

"I mean... I'm here, right?"

[glacial_queen]

"I guess you are," Karla replied, for whatever that meant. She stood up, taking in the whole picture rather than just the fact that he was here. "You look very handsome," she added, hoping that didn't sound as stiff to him as it did to her. "I like your suit."

In fact, her hand had already drifted out to grab his tie before she realized that she didn't really have that right anymore. It faltered for a moment and fell back to her side, the tips of her fingers just barely grazing his lapels.

"It's nice to see you," she added lamely, berating said traitorous hand. "And thank you for the rose. It meant a lot."

[wwiii]

"I... It was..." Blue? It had reminded him of her? It had been the thing to do? "I mean... I'm glad you liked it..."

Warren lifted a hand, straightening out his tie, even if it didn't particularly need straightening.

"Your dress is very nice."

Well, he couldn't really compliment her make-up.

[glacial_queen]

It was probably for the best Karla lacked Deadpool's ability to read narrative. Because had she caught the stray 'thing to do' thought, she probably would have grabbed for her phone again and kept walking.

"Thanks," she replied, unconsciously tugging on the skirt. "It feels a little short."

It almost showed her knees.

[wwiii]

"Maybe a little shorter than you usually wear," Warren allowed, with a small twitch of the lips that was almost a wry smile.

The awkward, it wasn't going anywhere, fast.

"I'd... gotten tickets. But, I mean. It's kind of..." He glanced at his wrist. The wrist on which he'd forgotten to put a watch, because he was so anxious about tonight. Right. And then his hand went into his pocket and he shrugged, instead. "Late, I think. I mean... unless you still wanted to..."

He used to know how to speak in full and complete sentences. Honest.

[glacial_queen]

The skirt was Karla's best attempt at using feminine wiles on Warren.

...Karla's best attempts left something to be desired, it was true.

"I don't really think I'm in much of a mood to dance tonight," she admitted wryly, her hand absently going up to her cheek. "But..." she glanced backwards into her room; she'd been standing like a sentry between it and Warren this whole time. "Would you like to come in for a bit? Just to talk? We don't seem to be doing that very well in the hallway."

Or at all.

[wwiii]

"Hallways aren't generally made for talking in," Warren noted, wryly. And then, after a moment's pause, he kind of glanced into her room.

Well. She'd invited him in. And he had come this far, and... Okay, Tuesday had been as awkward as all get-out, but this wasn't Tuesday. Maybe not having an audience would help... something?

"Sure," he replied, stepping into the room and carefully closing the door behind himself, "I'll come in."

[glacial_queen]

Unfortunately, the awkward seemed to have decided to come inside with them, instead of staying outside in the hallway where it belonged. Dammit.

"Would you like to sit?" Karla offered. Again, awkwardly, but it barely needed to be said anymore, did it? "Or something to drink? I could make tea..."

And then she just stood there, playing with the ribbon on her dress. That was helpful, Karla, really.

[wwiii]

Warren chewed on his lip, and then looked around for a place to sit down.

"Tea would be good, thanks," he replied. It was something to keep him grounded. Keep talking while there was still tea. No panicking and making a beeline for the door.

Wherever the backbone that he'd had the last time he'd come to her room went, he'd really like that back, now.

"Uh... How have you been?"

Smooth.

[glacial_queen]

Puttering around with her tea things, Karla nearly answered 'Fine.' But that spirit of 'enough is enough' stuck with her.

Glancing over to him, she replied, "Not all well." Honestly with just a hint of tarness, woo! "Tired of crying, for one thing. Edging over into frustrated." She paused, thoughtfully, and said, "No. Definitely frustrated."

Tongues of witchfire sprang up over the water in the kettle as she turned towards him fully. "I understand that there's no magical springing back to the way things were. And I respect that you need space to sort things through and try to recover. I did something horrible to you. But, you said that you'd give me a second chance. And I'm starting to wonder if that's actually true. Because...because it's not really feeling that way."

[wwiii]

"Isn't it?"

That hadn't entirely been something that Warren had been expecting to hear, right there. The look on his face might have betrayed that fact, just a little, but he was trying to bite it down.

"... If I wasn't trying, Karla, I wouldn't have come to your door at all."

It was about the best that he had.

[glacial_queen]

"I know and I'm not saying you're not trying," Karla said, running her fingers through her hair, "but then...I've seen you once since we got back. And we barely spoke. And when we did, it was as awkward as, well, now. I guess I just wish I knew what I was allowed to do. I'm trying not to push you or force myself on you, but it's hard to try to prove anything to you when I don't see you. I'm no longer welcome in your room, so it's starting to feel like classes might be my only chance of...anything." Her moment of frustrated energy had long since run out, leaving her sounding mostly just tired.

"I'm not trying to make you give me more than you think you can right now. I just...want to know what that is."

[wwiii]

"Not welcome in my room? I didn't say that, did I?"

Oh, Warren. The things that went on in the world around you while you buried your brains in budgets.

"It doesn't have to be just classes," he offered, finally. "I mean... there are things that we can do, right? Maybe the weirdness on Tuesday was just... I don't know... Us trying to act casual in front of other people?"

And failing miserably?

[glacial_queen]

"Not welcome...?" Karla would get to the rest of that in a moment, but her brain was stuttering. "It might not have said so in quite so many words, but the note was pretty clear about that," she said, shaking her head. "Look, it was deserved. I'm not actually arguing that. I would have done the same thing. But even if it wasn't meant that way, you can't possibly expect me to feel comfortable there anymore, can you?"

[wwiii]

"I... guess?" Give Warren another moment to be thoroughly confused. "Did I write a note?"

He didn't remember writing a note. He was fairly certain that he would have remembered writing a note. Right?

[glacial_queen]

"No...but I'd assumed you'd seen it before she sent it..."

And this is what you get for assuming, Karla. You make an ass of yourself and...nope, just of yourself.

And now Karla was biting her lip and doing a bit of mental adjusting.

"Oh."

Still not helpful, Karla.

[wwiii]

"She..." Warren's face fell a little, and his wings drooped a bit to join it. "Hinata was... pretty mad, huh?"

See, Warren could make connections when he'd been given enough of them!

[glacial_queen]

"She had--has--every right to be," Karla said softly. "She's your friend and your roommate. And I did something terrible to you. Had our positions been reversed, I can't say I would have acted any different. Perhaps not as...eloquent, but there's nothing she wrote that I can disagree with."

[wwiii]

Warren's guts felt kind of like they were coming up to say hello to the inside of his chest. Which was more a by-product of what he'd just been told than any leftover settling of his innards, post-healing.

Well. That was... awkward.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. "I didn't know. Maybe we can... just do things somewhere else, more often, to make up for that."

[glacial_queen]

"It's not your fault," Karla pointed out quietly. "It's mine. I created the situation, I'll deal with it. I just...thought you knew, was all." And agreed, but that didn't need to be said. "But I'd like that. I'm just not entirely sure what you want. From me. With me. Whatever."

[wwiii]

Warren drew in a slow, deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. He needed the moment's peace. Not much made sense anymore, and if he just took a second for a time out, maybe that would change, bit by bit.

He exhaled, opening his eyes again and looking at her.

"Before I... make up my mind there, I think... I still want to know why." It kind of felt like dredging up a two-week-old mess, now, but at the same time, he wasn't going to sleep at night, and she wasn't going to stop beating herself up about it, unless they could both stop dwelling on it. "You were going to tell me before. Almost."