Who: Kyle and Meredith What: what's in the future? Where: Carnival When: Monday evening Warnings/Rating: language? unsure
Kyle didn't regret buying his tumbledown old wreck of a house. Not a bit. Not for a minute. Not at all. Well - mostly not at all. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but...Okay, it was a little teenie weeny bit foreboding after the sun went down. Old houses creaked all the time, right? And loomed? And most of the time, he could lock himself up in the corner of a room with paints and canvas and he could lose himself enough that the surroundings didn't bother him. Channelling the nerves and edging fear into creativity.
Most of the time.
Tonight, though, he'd needed to get out of the house and he'd headed to the carnival. Bring lights, people, deep fried, supposedly edible things on sticks. A world away from his overly large, very lonely place-called-home.
He was still licking his fingers clean when he saw it. The sign asking him if he wanted his fortune told. Well, it seemed like fun and he doubted it could do any harm. Pulling a white handkerchief from his pocket, he properly cleaned his hands and headed that way, a bounce in his step.