WHO: Declan Miller, Terry Connors WHERE: Right outside Nottingham campus. WHEN: Thursday... evening? IDK. RATING: TBD. STATUS: Incomplete.
“Oh, crap! Oh, geez!” Knocking a few boxes aside in her hurried search through the messy contents of her closet, Terry cursed quietly to herself. How could she have known that a boring Thursday night with a distinctive lack of plans that didn’t include staying within the confines of her room, dressed in her oldest (and therefore comfiest) pajamas would take such a turn? Uncaring of where they landed, she kicked off her pajama pants, jumping into the first pair of jeans she came across and proceeding to scan the room in search of a clean shirt. Damn college life and the toll it had taken on her!
She had been lying on her bed, with her mind set on the startling news, the way the president had exposed them to the world. The town, which was usually quiet and boring, was now buzzing with tense activity. Curfews and SWAT teams? One would think Nottingham was loaded with murderers and terrorists. Who did they think they were protecting? What was the president thinking? Didn’t he know how dangerous humans could be when faced with something different? She had been furious, furious and nervous. Nothing good could come of this, she was sure.
Now, however.
Now, her heart was seemingly ready to jump out of her chest. Her hands were shaking, and her mouth had gone dry. Declan. Not only in Nottingham, back from the other side of the world, but right outside her campus. A few meters away. After a year and a half of not seeing him. Was it strange, then, that any thoughts concerning SWAT teams and idiotic presidents had vanished from her mind? Terry straightened her shirt, throwing one furtive glance at the mirror to make sure her hair wasn’t sticking in every direction, decided against trying to do something with it (because, if there was someone who had seen her at her best and at her worst, that was Declan. She doubted anything could surprise him at this point), and, after running her fingers through the golden locks a couple times, breezed out into the hallway, nearly knocking down a freshman in her hurry to reach the door.
Ironically, it was only when she was a few steps away from reaching it that Terry did stop. She… didn’t want to seem too excited, did she? She had been befuddled when he had first commented on her journal, and she had nearly thrown off her computer off the bed in her hurry to stand up and get dressed to greet him, never stopping to think what she would tell him, or what she would do once she saw him. Slapping her cheeks a couple times, she took a deep breath. Even through the journals, she had had a hard time concealing how much she wanted to see him. ...It was only natural, wasn’t it? He was her best friend, after all. They had been together since birth, and though his decision to leave for Europe had hurt, she could hardly gather the willpower to remember how distressed she had been back then.
Finally pushing the door open, she braced herself against the cold and glanced around, not quite daring to call his name in case it was all a dream, wishing her face didn’t feel quite as flushed, and that she could shake off the ridiculously corny thought that, right now, she wanted for nothing more in the world than to see him.