Carter Gray (gotluck) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-05-01 21:10:00 |
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They had settled into a comfortable, easy relationship. Texts during the day, lunch at the same table, dinner, one of their beds. It wasn't hard for his friends to figure out where he was, if he wasn't in his dorm; in the same vein, it wasn't difficult for her friends, either. She called him her boyfriend, and although Carter was loathe to label their relationship, he'd long since come to terms with the fact that they had one, that it was exclusive, and that it was real. But every day that passed without a fight or argument left Carter feeling more anxious than ever. It was, at first, difficult to pinpoint the reason behind his irrational emotions -- things were going well, after all. He wasn't fucking up. Hunter wasn't shooting him judging, disapproving looks (or, at least, was doing so less often), and the same could perhaps be said for Jodi, too. Every day they did not fight meant their relationship was one step closer to becoming more serious, more substantial in a way he could not articulate. His feelings were a jumble, his thoughts equally confused. It left Carter antsy. Pushing his food aimlessly around his plate with his fork, he glanced up at the girl across from him. Often, there were friends sitting at their table, but tonight was different; it was late, and the cafeteria was mostly empty. "You almost done?" he asked, to break the silence. "What?" Daisy pulled her attention back to Carter. She'd been absentmindedly staring across the room, half-listening to a conversation two people were having on the network. Most of the food on her plate was already gone, a few stray peas mixed with some mashed potatoes. "Oh -- yeah," she smiled at him. "Sorry, I spaced off. What d'ya wanna do tonight?" Carter shrugged in response. "Don't know." And then, impulsively, "Maybe I'll hang with Clem." It was not something he did often, if at all. While Clem and Carter got along amicably, they were not close; it was difficult to be, with his roommate being as reticent and introspective as he was. He knew that Daisy knew this, too; and that she'd likely question this plan. Indeed, Daisy's expression folded into one of confusion, her eyebrows moving toward each other in a crease. "Oh," she said, studying him and trying to backtrack her way through their dinner conversation, wondering if she'd said something that could have thrown him into a bad mood. "I mean... I thought maybe we could do something. Go on a walk, or go to the lake and go swimming or something." Daisy looked at him expectantly -- she wasn't ready to just roll over and cede their night away so easily. Carter shrugged again, shoving a piece of lukewarm steak into his mouth. "There's always tomorrow, blondie," he muttered in between bites, his voice oddly light. He wasn't sure where he was going with this, why he had felt the sudden need to press for distance when he had not done so in a long while. "We don't need to hang out every day." Daisy, on the other hand, made no move to go back to eating. Instead, her eyes never left Carter's face. She looked like she was trying to figure something out, but there was also caution there, as if she could sense a storm brewing. "I know," she said, the words drawn out ever-so-slightly. "I didn't say that we did. Is... something wrong?" She looked at him uncertainly, not entirely sure that she wanted to hear the answer. It was a question that Carter did not really have an answer to. Was something wrong? No; what was wrong was, in fact, that nothing was wrong at all. But that sounded insane, even he knew that much. "No," he said, voice low, avoiding eye contact in lieu of studying the remnants of his dinner. His gaze flashed to her plate, also almost empty. "You're done? I'm gonna head out." His hands pushed at the table, his chair making a metallic squeak as it scraped across the floor. "Carter, stop," Daisy's voice was suddenly sharp. All pretense of hesitancy was gone as she tried to assert herself. She didn't know what had set this train of events into motion, but she'd experienced enough of Carter's sudden mood swings to know that they were dipping into one. And she also knew that pleading with him was a lost cause. It would only leave her feeling spurned and anxious. For once, Daisy decided to take a different tack. "Stop it, don't do this," Daisy was still in her chair, but she was tensed and ready to stand if Carter decided to walk off, "seriously, what the heck is going on? You can't just walk away! Sit down and talk to me." A flash of annoyance coursed through him as Daisy's voice cut through the cafeteria's silence. "Jesus," he shot back, hands curling by his sides. "I can't even hang out with my own roommate without you making a big deal outta it? I told you nothing was wrong, I just --" Raking a hand through his hair, he took a step towards the door. He was frustrated, agitated even; but so rarely had Carter experienced emotions this convoluted, he was not sure how to react. He did know that it was not Daisy he was upset with, but at this point, with the situation tense as it seemed to be, he did not feel like explaining himself, either. Seeing that he wasn't making any move to return to the table, Daisy scooted her own chair back, abandoning her fork on the plate. Her confusion had turned to frustration, and Daisy was trying her hardest to keep it in check. If something was really wrong (although she didn't know what that could possibly be) she didn't want to get angry with Carter without even really giving him a chance to explain himself. But she was just so tired of this, she was so tired of feeling like they could only go a few months before he pushed her away and refused to talk about why. "You can hang out with whoever, you want, you know that." Daisy's voice was low, and she took a step toward Carter, ignoring the other Vols who were still lingering in the cafeteria. "But don't act like I'm dumb, I know you better than that, I know something's wrong. I'm your girlfriend, Carter. Don't blow me off." "I'm not blowing you off," Carter returned loudly. His comment attracted the attention of a nearby pair walking towards the exit, causing him to wince. Lowering his voice, he continued, "I just want some space." He hesitated, wondering if he had perhaps gone too far, but it was not enough to induce him to apologize -- he hadn't done anything wrong, really, had he? With an uncomfortable shrug, Carter thrust his hands into his pockets and walked towards the door, speeding up as he passed the two Vols who'd witnessed his brief outburst. Daisy, however, was still not ready to concede defeat. Leaving their plates and trays behind, she followed him angrily toward the door. She was only a step behind Carter as he stepped outside. "What's that supposed to mean?" She all but yelled the words at his back. How had they gotten here, when only moments before they'd been happily eating their dinner together? Daisy wasn't sure, but her emotions had already taken over her better judgment. Daisy reached out and grabbed his arm. "You want some space? Since when? Carter, I don't know what's going on, it's not fair to just shut me out whenever you feel like it. I'm tired of waiting around every time until you decide you're ready to like, deal with me again or whatever." If there was one thing Carter hated above all else, it was making a scene. Wincing as Daisy raised her voice, he whirled around. "Stop yelling, god damn it," he hissed in response, arms folding defensively across his chest. And then, tiredly, "I'm not gonna do this now, Daisy." She glowered, though Carter's sudden deflation caused her to curb her own temper slightly. In fact, his resigned tone ignited a flicker of fear inside of her. "Do what?" Her voice was less accusatory now, although she fought back the predictable urge to plead with him. Still, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, there was a hint of hurt in Daisy's eyes. "What are you trying to say? Don't walk away. If you want to say something, just say it. Please." "I --" Think I love you. The thought flashed across his mind suddenly, stopping him short. Did he? Maybe it was true; it was as likely, Carter supposed, as anything else. But he did not say the words, though they were on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he pulled his eyes away from hers, turning back towards the stairs he'd been about to climb. "I don't know." And before she could counter with another protest, he all but fled up the stairs. |