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Edge of the Ocean
Who: Andie and Dylan.
When: Early afternoon.
Where: Dylan's room on the H Deck.
The task of getting boarded on the ship felt a lot more tedious than it should have. It was why Andie was so happy to get her things settled in her room, where she could be alone in blissful silence for more than five seconds at a time. It was time to recharge. In her room, she could quietly sit down on the sofa, spin her pack of cigarettes on her knee, and consider going out on the balcony for a quick smoke. When they’d officially set sail she’d had a mild panic attack. What, exactly, had she signed herself up for? No matter what the price tag (or there lack of) was for this little vacation, she’d subjected herself to endless days of awkwardness. It wasn’t free, really; it was costing a little piece of her pride.
Time at least went by a little swifter while she was in her room exploring or on the balcony smoking, but it also meant that her routine as the shut-in had to come to an end. Dylan’s room was just beside her own, which was comforting to know. She didn’t even bother to put her Converse sneakers back on before going to visit him—Andie just waltzed up to his door in her bare feet. She’d managed to dress down since arriving on board; now in a pair of denim shorts instead of the skirt she’d worn earlier in the morning. There was a sort of Plain Jane southern aesthetic about her now, and she wore it with a greater level of comfort.
She knocked on Dylan’s door and then leaned against the frame with her arms folded over her chest. When he didn’t answer immediately, she kicked at the door with the base of her foot impatiently. “Come on, Dylan,” she said with a smirk. “You don’t have to waste time checking your hair in the mirror—it’s just me.”
When: Early afternoon.
Where: Dylan's room on the H Deck.
The task of getting boarded on the ship felt a lot more tedious than it should have. It was why Andie was so happy to get her things settled in her room, where she could be alone in blissful silence for more than five seconds at a time. It was time to recharge. In her room, she could quietly sit down on the sofa, spin her pack of cigarettes on her knee, and consider going out on the balcony for a quick smoke. When they’d officially set sail she’d had a mild panic attack. What, exactly, had she signed herself up for? No matter what the price tag (or there lack of) was for this little vacation, she’d subjected herself to endless days of awkwardness. It wasn’t free, really; it was costing a little piece of her pride.
Time at least went by a little swifter while she was in her room exploring or on the balcony smoking, but it also meant that her routine as the shut-in had to come to an end. Dylan’s room was just beside her own, which was comforting to know. She didn’t even bother to put her Converse sneakers back on before going to visit him—Andie just waltzed up to his door in her bare feet. She’d managed to dress down since arriving on board; now in a pair of denim shorts instead of the skirt she’d worn earlier in the morning. There was a sort of Plain Jane southern aesthetic about her now, and she wore it with a greater level of comfort.
She knocked on Dylan’s door and then leaned against the frame with her arms folded over her chest. When he didn’t answer immediately, she kicked at the door with the base of her foot impatiently. “Come on, Dylan,” she said with a smirk. “You don’t have to waste time checking your hair in the mirror—it’s just me.”