marceline, that's too distasteful! (ydidueatmyfries) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-08-01 11:52:00 |
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It was probably pretty stupid, all things considered. Marcy didn’t even need to build a pool. Plenty of other people had pools at their houses. There was a river. It had really just started as a dumb joke about naked dudes and exploded from there. It was something she could do. She could build the globbing pool. And she had been working on it for weeks now. It took up most of her backyard, which was never all that large to begin with, in a crescent shape that reminded her of the lagoon back home. Gansey had done something. Marcy didn’t know what, but everyone else had made digging sound like a major problem. But when Gansey showed, suddenly it wasn’t. Her yard was clear to dig. Marcy didn’t question it too much. Then there was Ronan. Marcy’s expenses were pretty small. She worked two different jobs at the record store and the recording studio, wherever she was needed. She probably had some money for materials but thanks to Ronan, the materials just showed up from his imagination. That reminded her of Ooo, too. Especially when it came to the filtration system that would keep the pool clean on its own forever. It was pretty much a self contained system. The pool would probably fare better than her house would if another Mushroom War were to happen. But it was still a stupid idea. Marcy was going to have to get a cover for the pool and blackout curtains for her windows. The sun tended to reflect off pool surfaces in intense ways. Being outside during the day came with a certain low grade level pain she was used to. With a pool in her backyard, if she went out during the day to visit her friends, it was going to hurt. She was still doing it, though. As long as she wasn’t too loud at night, the neighbors weren’t a problem. Baelfire wasn't sure if they were fighting or not. She'd told him she had to go, after all, but she'd not given him time to respond or say goodbye. And because he wasn't sure if they were fighting or not, he wasn't sure if she would expect him over later that evening. For a long time, he delayed leaving the Barn. He actually considered packing up and heading back home to the Swan house once he was finished panting for the day. Only, that didn't feel right, especially if she was potentially expecting him. He hadn't said he was coming over but he generally did come over. Sighing, he eventually yanked on a tee shirt and a pair of ruggedy old converse, heading out to walk to her house. His shorts were covered in paint splotches and there was a smudge of green paint along his upper arm that he didn't seem to mind was there. As he approached the ugly pink house, his hands shifted to slide into his pockets, finger tips curling around his cellphone as he came around to the backyard. "Hey," he said, nonchalantly. “Hey,” Marcy said back, matching the casual vibe of the greeting. She struggled with the magical pump and filter that was supposed to go into the side of the pool, which worked under its own power and would keep everything clean and going forever. It was cheating, provided Marceline could get it where it was supposed to, but the endeavor was starting to frustrate her. Finally her entire body expanded until she was a black nightmarish void of tentacles, several mouths of sharp, banana shaped teeth and gleaming yellow eyes to force the dreamt up part into its proper place, snarling until it finally popped into place and Marcy shrank back down into her normal-for-her self and floated up to Bae to greet him in what was left of the backyard. “I don’t even know if I put that in right,” she admitted. He was hovering near the edge of the backyard even once she greeted him back. His eyes were focused upon the pool, watching as she struggled to put in the piece, but not offering to come over and help. It wasn't because he wouldn't have been willing but because he was more concerned with getting a read on her and seeing where she was at. Frustration was evident, though it was unclear as to whether it was solely because of the pump. A brow raised when she shifted. It felt unnecessary to Baelfire as a casual observer. There was likely a much easier way to get the pump into place. He didn't say this. Instead, he turned his gaze toward her as she floated over. "I couldn't say," he responded. He didn't have much experience in the way of pools. Pools cost money and he hadn't had that once he was out of Neverland. He had only been a few times since living in Tumbleweed, too. “Guess we’ll find out when it’s finished,” Marcy said with a shrug. If Marcy was bothered by their last conversation, she wasn’t showing it. Like being in Tumbleweed itself, Marcy buried all her negative feelings somewhere down deep, with a vague idea that she would somehow keep them from surfacing probably. That meant not commenting on the fact that he was late, that she wasn’t sure if he was coming over, or anything else that might lead to another honest conversation since the last one hadn’t gone all that great. Maybe it was better if they didn’t talk about the things that bothered them. Ever. “I was just planning on working on the pool again tonight,” she said. As she had the last few nights. Maybe he was tired of hanging out while she worked? It seemed better to give him the out if he wanted. "Guess so," he agreed, eyes focused ahead on the project. He could imagine it being complete and their typical group all around it in a late Fall evening, when the sun would set early, and they could all enjoy each other's company inside of the water. It was a nice thing to consider but it also seemed distant, even with the pool nearing completion. As if it might not even happen. The thought brought his brows together and he held the look for a few moments before forcing it to level out. "I figured you might," he admitted. After all, it was what she'd been focused on these past few days. He couldn't say much against it. He got focused on things too. "What'd you run off for earlier, anyway?" He asked, keeping his same level tone. “Oh.” Marcy rubbed the back, looking a little embarrassed. “I just realized I forgot to clear out my other place since I started working on the pool. I have to go over there every couple of days and kick out the dinos that try to nest in it sometimes and it’d been like a week. I just didn’t want it to get trashed.” Which, to be fair, Marceline did do that because the subject of Dino Island had come up and she did have to clear it out. It was more she wanted to get away from their disagreement fast. Because the more they discussed it the worse it was going to get. But she knew the excuse was a little weak. And she suspected he knew that, too. He turned his head to gaze now at her. His expression was tired and unsold on what she'd just said. Even worse, there was a flicker of a nasty comment that went through his mind, and he didn't like that. He didn't like that this was something that was not only present between them but that he was feeling cruel about. It wasn't who he wanted to be. He sighed, letting his head drop and he brought a hand up to swipe his hair back. He was pushing that subject away or at least trying to. "How can I help with the pool?" He asked with clear avoidance. Marceline wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed he didn’t call her out. So she found a few things they could do together. Normally she would have been excited that they were working on something together, but it felt like they were mostly working to avoid talking. It was supposed to be fun, but really the pool was just one giant exercise in avoidance. “If you get tired, you should let me know,” she offered. She was talking about the pool. He went about with the work they could do together. He didn't mind helping with the pool but his heart also wasn't in it today. It just felt like something to do while they didn't speak. "I'll leave when I do." It wasn't meant to sound harsh. It was, after all, what he did do whenever he came over to see her. At some point, he had to give into his actual schedule and clock, and go to sleep himself. Some nights he would stay and sleep at her house but he tried to go home. And it seemed like he was opting for home more than staying lately. “Yeah,” she said. “No, that’s… okay.” Marceline tried not to look as miserable as she felt. But she had plenty of other things to keep her eyes on. It made it easier. He didn't immediately respond and instead let the silence settle as they worked. It felt heavy as each moment passed and eventually, he moved to sit, dropping his legs to dangle down into the empty basin of the pool, while he sat at the edge and extended his arms back behind him. He had a pensive look when he finally did speak. "Maybe we aren't okay," he said quietly. “Yeah,” she said again. Marceline pretended to wipe sweat from her forehead, mostly it was to avoid touching any other part of her face that might set off or reveal how she really felt. “I’m trying but I guess I’m not any good at this. Sorry.” Her shoulders deflated. “You can go if you want,” she said. "Not just you," he said just as quietly, fingers pinching at a few clumps of grass. "So, I'm sorry, too." He frowned, tilting his head toward her. "I don't want that." “What do you want?” Marcy asked. She put down what she was working on and sat down on the grass next to Bae. Not hovering, but planted and undeniably present. He didn't know how to respond to that at first. Instead, he just diverted his gaze back towards the empty pool, though his hand reached out to rest on top of hers. He felt like everything he was wanting, when he thought about it, was beginning to feel unobtainable. He wanted to be able to feel comfortable and content in his home. She didn't feel this way. And where she'd decided felt safe was a place he didn't feel the same. It felt almost like they were set adrift two sheets of ice that were drifting further and further apart. Only, she was someone who had so many similar experiences that he had. She was one of the few. And he had always loved the way her face would light up when she would sing. He gripped her hand. "Something that I think isn't possible," he whispered. If asked about why Marcy had agreed to date Baelfire in the first place, the vampire would say she thought they had more time. At least a few years? Maybe, if given time to think about it, this was better. Finn was mortal. He dated a lot of different girls. So, maybe if, as Marcy suspected, she was about to be dumped, maybe sooner was better than later. Except she’d never put much stock in logic. She was a creature of powerful feelings. And unlike most people, that wasn’t something she was capable of growing out of. She tried so hard not to cry, but her eyes were welled up with the threat of them. Maybe if she held her breath? Except she was undead. Breathing never did a lot for her to begin with. “I went to New York,” she tried, her voice was a quiet, feeble thing. Baelfire's eyes shut when he heard her voice and he pulled in a breath, a pang of guilt hitting him when she said that. She had done that. He'd known that was terrifying for her and yet she'd been with him, in a situation that brought him nothing but joy, even if it was frightening for her. But he didn't know what he was supposed to do. He wasn't going to live his life in fear of something that might not happen. That was what the entire disagreement with the Dino Island felt about. "I know you did," he whispered. For Marcy, being immortal meant it wasn’t a matter of if but when. Maybe it wouldn’t happen in Bae’s lifetime, but as long as she wasn’t sent back, it would certainly happen in Marceline’s. People assumed her lacking maturity meant a lack in perspective. If anything, Marcy had an extremely long perspective. Everything ended eventually. “I said I’d go to London with you,” she spoke a little louder now, not sure if she was supposed to be upset or angry. “It’s like you don’t even have to try, so you don’t. You never believe that I can keep you safe. You don’t trust me.” His eyes opened and he tilted his head to look in her direction with an expression that made it clear he didn't agree with what she was accusing him of. "I don't try to what?" He asked, the quieter tone from moments before being broken with a bit more emotion that held defense in it. "You're trying to keep me safe from a life I don't want to be rid of," he countered, with his frown returning. "I haven't said that." “You won’t even go to visit. You’ve never seen the place I built or even know where it is. I never asked you to go and never return. But it’s like you can’t risk going some place where maybe we could both be happy, when you have everything you want and you know I’ll follow.” Marcy’s hands had balled up into frustrated fists under his. Despite her best efforts, she did cry, even if she tried hard to hold onto an angry expression instead of a sad one. If they got angry, then it was just a fight. But if she started to cry, then that was like agreeing it was over. There was another pang of guilt but he shifted, moving his hand from her, and pushing up on the ground so that he could stand. Upon doing so, he realized it might not have been the best idea, but he was already doing it. He couldn't very well just sit back down now, could he? "You don't ask it but that's what it feels like you want from me," he told her, because it was a weight that had been pressing down. As for the last statement, he cut himself off from saying anything else, his lips pressing together hard as he looked at her with a pained expression. He didn't think that was exactly fair. He felt like he did almost anything she wanted aside from the Island. Only, what did it matter now when he saw her tears? His face fell and he moved forward. Regardless of any tension, Baelfire couldn't handle seeing someone he cared about cry. His arms went to circle around her. “Of course I want you to!” Marcy raised her voice. She didn’t move when Bae put his arms around her, her body tensed. She had to stay mad because it didn’t feel over if they were just mad. “Why do you think I fought so hard to make sure everyone could get to the island safely if they had to? But no one cares. No one cares because they’re not the ones that are going to get left behind. I don’t expect you to live there. I just wish you didn’t hate it so much that you aren’t even willing to spend any time there. Like I’m not worth it. Like I’m just the placeholder until you age out or find someone else who actually likes it here. Like we’re never going to be that serious. You know how many boyfriends I’ve had in a thousand years, including you? Two! So maybe it was dumb on my part knowing this wouldn’t last but…” Marcy was running out of steam. She wasn’t even entirely sure where her rant was going, only that it had been sitting on her chest. But the tension evaporated from her body as she was ready to concede defeat. “I don’t know,” her voice had returned to a normal decibel. “I never met anyone like you before.” Marcy wiped the tears from her cheeks, hating the fact that he saw her like this. Though, her emotional outbursts weren’t as rare as she liked to think they were. The way her body tensed made him feel like he shouldn't. He'd only had them around her for a moment, but he was quick to back away, and now he was staring at her with the way she'd raised her voice. Well, at least she admitted that. There was so much there that she was saying. If it would have just stayed on the Island, and how she was hurt that he didn't go, he could have focused on that. He could have apologized and tried to explain why he didn't want to. And it wasn't that she didn't have a point. He just hadn't thought about it the way she had. He just stared at her with his lips parted, the distance set between them, and his arms awkwardly hanging at his sides. But he slowly did move his hand to touch his other wrist, fingertips brushing over the leather of the bracelet Ronan had made for him. The bracelet that took him to a place he didn't want to go. And for a moment, he stood, still looking wounded, before his brows came together and there was a heat to his expression. It only lasted for a moment because a second later, he'd touched the place he needed on the bracelet, and he was gone. And suddenly on Rogue's paranoia Island. He took in quickened, rapid breaths, because he didn't know anything about this place. Rogue wouldn't really keep anything dangerous would she? Regardless, he started walking backwards, trying to get himself acquainted. He'd lived on an Island before. He was familiar with them. He could take care of himself and figure out where to go. The landing area of the island was pretty tame. There were buildings that looked modern and up to date, looking almost resort-like with the rest of the paradise-like island. The area was warded from dinosaurs being able to interfere. It was not where Marcy had put her own house, which she’d fashioned as a sort of ranger’s station or lookout deep at one of the tallest parts of the island. Marcy appeared moments later. By appeared, she positioned herself behind Bae and let him back up into her. Was she supposed to be happy he’d come or feel guilt? So she tried: “Hey.” Maybe it sounded like a one syllable apology. Marcy didn’t do many apologies. They weren’t something she was particularly good at. He hadn't been expecting to back into anyone. He whirled around, seeing her, and his brows resumed the angry scowl he'd had moments before he had disappeared. Now facing her, he backed up a few more paces, before everything finally broke from inside of him. "I don't think of you as a placeholder!" It had burst from him in a tone that was very uncommon for Baelfire. "I was trying to actually talk with you and you just start throwing things at me. I don't know how you expect me to respond to that." He shook his head but he didn't stop. "It isn't that we don't care. It's that you can't live constantly afraid of when something is going to happen. Nothing is forever, Marcy. Nothing. And hiding here, not living our lives, that's not going to do any good for anyone." "And, and, and what do you want me to say about the age thing? You think I haven't thought about that? You think I don't realize how much that is going to suck?! We didn't exactly think about that when we started did we? So what am I supposed to do now? We both know it's going to hurt in the end but I still want to be here. Or I did. Except," his ramble was becoming more fast paced and pitchy, with him not even realizing that he was getting emotional as he spoke, "you are saying I, I, I treat you like a placeholder except I don't think I do and I, I...." “I’m not really good at talking,” she said, frowning. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to respond back to Baelfire, or shrug it off. Except she didn’t know if they were still together or not. He’d come to the island but then he also said the words Or I did. Marcy crossed her arms over her stomach defensively. Her feet were planted on the ground, there and solid. “You don’t treat me like a placeholder,” she sighed. “You just… I want to be… like…” Marcy rubbed the back of her neck. “Ugh. I don’t know! It’ll sound stupid if I say it.” She paused. “And living on an island is not hiding. People live on islands, sometimes! Normal, boring islands! Doing regular things! It’s not like the commute is hard. I don’t get why it’s living in fear for wanting to be based here, but it’s not living in fear if people are scared of dinosaurs and avoiding them!” That much was clear. And Baelfire wasn't one to hold onto outbursts for long. He couldn't even recall the last time he'd had one. He could remember being angry, it happened well enough, but in those moments he typically was still composed. He didn't like feeling uncomposed. "Then why do you feel like you are one? What have I done that makes you think I'm just waiting for something better to come along? Is that what you think of me?" He sighed and glanced down at the ground, staring at his paint splatter tennis shoes against the green grass. "Better stupid than not knowing," he said, before tilting his head back up to look at her. "They chose to live there because they want to. This Island exists because people are afraid. I don't want to live like that," he informed her. "Uh, because the dinosaurs are real and here, but a bomb is something that might not happen. And if it would? There are people who can literally tear metal apart. They would stop it." “I want to be serious,” she blurted out. “Like, not this instant. I just… I want to feel like maybe we’ll share a place someday. Like…” Marcy looked down at her feet and mumbled, “....serious stuff. It didn’t seem like you wanted things to change or go any further than what they are. Like this is all you wanted out of this. And maybe it is stupid to want more. Because of the age thing. I don’t know.” Marcy kicked the toe of her shoe at the ground. “This island exists because people are smart. There are people here who can literally ward away dinosaurs and a bunch of them just eat plants anyway. They’re easy enough to deal with.” She looked up at him, frowning. It was going to feel really stupid if she told him she’d wanted to be serious and he ended up dumping her. "No," he contested, shaking his head, "I just didn't think we should, like, rush things," he explained, frowning. "I'm not against us being serious eventually. I just..." He frowned now and looked down too, "...I'm not ready for that yet. But that doesn't mean I might not be eventually." He bit on the inside of his lip. "I don't know. I figured we'd figure the age thing out if it ever you know...got to that." "I don't agree," he said simply. It was built for paranoia. "About why it exists. I'll concede on the other part." He sighed, before pushing his hands up through his hair. "I'm not moving here," he said finally, before letting his hands drop dramatically by his side, "But...come on. Show me the tree house." Marcy wished she was more excited about finally showing the tiny tree house she’d built. It’s construction was relatively simple, looking a bit like a giant straw. She’d made it on a budget, mostly with material found on the island. But there was potential to add more or create additions, she just hadn’t thought it was needed yet. Not when she hadn’t been able to get anyone to visit. Instead she kept her face neutral and said: “Sure.” Marcy’s shape transformed into a giant bat, as she offered her hand to help Bae onto her back. Flying was easier and faster than walking. He made it clear he didn’t want to stay long. But, she’d take humoring her over a break up, assuming it wasn’t still on the table. It wasn’t hard to spot the structure the closer they got to it. Like her ugly pink house, it had a certain quality to it. She didn’t say much as they flew. He glanced at her when she transformed. He imagined this made sense but there was a flicker of hesitation, where he looked away from her, off in the distance in a random direction, not entirely sure if it was the direction her structure was in or not. He had an urge to resist and insist on walking. Flying on the back of her back felt too intimate at the present moment. But he didn't protest and took hold of her hand, climbing on her back. He didn't say anything either. But he did take notice of the structure. The closer they got, the more his frown grew. It wasn't because he didn't like it or think it wasn't incredible looking. It was because he could clearly see how much effort she'd put into it. And he felt like a bit of an ass. Knowing she wouldn’t be living primarily at the Dino House, she’d set it up as a sort of ranger station. Marcy undid one of the heavy tarp entrances when she landed and set Bae down on the interior floor. There was storage space underneath where she kept everything safe, including a few large tupperware tubs of her own personal things. She’d wanted to open it up to medical supplies or whatever else hikers on the island might need, but few people actually seemed interested in coming to the island. Perhaps the place would come in useful one day. It was just one room, but it was designed with utility in mind, the space cleverly used. Instead of a bed or a hammock (though she had a few extra with hardware in the walls to hang them), there was netting cut into a rectangular hole in the ground, near one of the open walls, in order to be able to check out the island and its natural beauty. She shrank down until she was herself once more. Gesturing to the room, there wasn’t much of a tour to give, she said, “So… this is it.” Marcy shrugged. He stood once she set him down and his arms crossed over his chest but his eyes were moving around. He occasionally turned his body to look in different directions, taking in all the details. But as he was doing so, his arms were tightening and his fingers flexed. There was a nod of his head when she spoke, giving her acknowledgement, but he didn't say anything in response. With his back turned to her, and after a bit of silence, "It's like Land of the Lost." “Is that a bad thing?” she asked. Marcy didn’t get the reference. She noticed the tension in his body and interpreted it to mean he hated it. “We don’t gottah stay,” she said. “I just wanted to show you what I was working on anyway. I had some ideas to expand it, but, it’s enough for now, I guess. The pool will be more fun anyway.” "No," he replied. It wasn't a bad thing. It just wasn't what he'd imagined this entire time. He'd known it was in a tree but he had pictured something more akin to the treehouse from the movie Jack or something you'd expect the Little Rascals to have made. He didn't actually expect, well, something tangible and clearly thought out. He swallowed. Twice. "Why didn't you build it where the dinosaurs are warded away?" He asked, quietly. She'd said the Island had wards for the dinosaurs and yet she'd also said she needed to clear it out every few days. “Well…” Marcy sighed and sat down on the sort of improvised hammock space, looking out the open wall onto the rest of the island and the ocean water beyond that. “I guess I just like my space. Back home, my other house was in a cave. I could play music whenever I wanted, as loud as I wanted, didn’t have to worry about the neighbors calling the cops on me…” Marcy looked down when she rolled her eyes, making it hard to see her expression. “And I guess, part of the reason I like my space is Simon used to follow me sometimes. Even when he stopped remembering who I was. He’d just show up and I got tired of dealing with him. I got used to just taking off and finding some other place where he couldn’t find me for a while.” "Mmm," Bae vocalized, turning his head to look over his shoulder in her direction, just in time to watch her sit down on the hammock. When she did, he turned fully and shifted himself, taking a seat on the wooden floor, not far from the hammock. He crossed his legs and set his elbows on either knee cap, while he cupped his face between his hands. "Rogue wouldn't call the cops on you," he said, not maliciously, but because he understood the desire for space but he didn't understand allowing for the possibility of danger. "Old habits die hard," he spoke quietly. “Someone would. Someone would be the new cops,” Marcy observed. "Guess that's just an issue when there's people," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, before casting his eyes down to look through the netting of the hammock. “Yeah,” Marcy agreed. “Guess I’m not used to that either. The Candy Kingdom is smaller than Tumbleweed, and it’s the largest kingdom on Ooo.” "I can't say that surprises me. Candy Kingdom, I mean." Tumbleweed freaked her out. It didn't make logical sense for any other place she'd ever been to be larger than it when she was concerned about the area catching attention. "I'm not saying it isn't hard. Adjusting to things. I damn near had nightmares every night when I got to New York. Too many people," he said, quietly. “I thought you liked cities,” Marcy said with a frown. “It’s not… It isn’t adjusting, Bae. It’s bigger than that.” Marcy sank into the hammock space, as though she could sink protectively into the floor. It didn’t feel like anyone listened to her sometimes. She knew it wasn’t fair, Marcy just wanted someone to understand. “When you live as long as I do, you see patterns. Stuff other people don’t pick up on because they don’t live long enough to see history repeat itself. Like killing the Vampire King and his followers. I’ve done that twice now, and in another thousand years something else will happen and I’ll probably have to do it all over again. It isn’t an if for me that something is going to happen to this world, it’s a when. It isn’t just some theory or maybe. I mean, Ooo is growing, I know some day it’ll happen again, too. But at least on Ooo I had time. I’m not ready to go through that again. I don’t want to see it happen. I don’t want to live through it when no one else does.” She sighed and closed her eyes as though trying to explain it again made her tired. "I do now," he replied. When he had first got to London, it had been the same problem, only it was a hundred years before give or take. London was crowded but there weren't cars and buses and millions of tourists rushing to see the Empire State Building. New York had been jarring in the beginning. He had got used to that. He listened, quietly, as she spoke. It wasn't that he couldn't understand. He wasn't going to belittle her experiences. But that was her world. It wasn't every world. The Doctor was timeless, too, and yet he didn't live in a nexus of fear, even if it may be deserved. He swallowed again. "I'm just a drop in a bucket," he spoke, quietly. It might not happen in his lifetime but she was positive it would in hers. And it was affecting everything. He had just been ignoring it because he didn't want to acknowledge it. "I don't think...we can get around this." The Doctor never stayed in one place, either. Marcy’s face fell the moment Bae spoke. She wanted to protest. Her mouth opened to. Hadn’t he listened to her? One of two boyfriends? She hadn’t told him he was the only mortal she’d ever dated. It was brief but, he was… He was breaking up with her? He’d finally come to see the place she built, she’d really tried to open up and talk and he was breaking up with her? “Wait, what?” Marcy looked stunned. She shouldn’t have. The entire night hadn’t gone well. He just kept his eyes pointed down through the net of the hammock. His hands did slip away from his face and there was a moment where he was holding the end of his shoelace in his hand. "I didn't say I don't want to. I just don't think we can," he spoke quietly. “Are you breaking up with me?” The words left her mouth before she realized they had been spoken. Somehow her own question asking for clarification hurt more. Marcy was afraid of the answer. "I don't want to," he whispered, still pulling at the lace. The question hurt. All of this hurt. He let go of the string and looked to her, except that made it hurt worse. "Maybe we should take a break? Figure out if...we can get around it. Maybe." Marcy was paralyzed by a rapid succession of emotional reactions all competing to reach the surface: tears, apathy, screaming rage. Each word Bae spoke took extra seconds of processing. “Just go,” she said softly. He didn’t want to be on the island anyway. She didn’t need to finish her stupid pool. The joke was no longer funny. The sheer stubbornness of wanting to build it in the first place no longer mattered. It could just sit there. At least on the island she could spend some much needed time alone. |