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Vincent (king_of_gods) wrote in paxletalelogs,

Oh, High School. How bold and black you make the coffee of youth, how acrid the taste of actions, how freely marked with thoughtlessness, your airs. Oh youth, so insensible and insensitive. Oh Vince, such a history of being too espresso without enough water. His affection for her however was undeniable in his own mind. He seemed to figure that everyone else had similar inner realm of mindfulness, where anyone you've known for longer than five years had snuck their way into your life and heart for good, curled up next the warm fire of your livelihood. Of course, that was easier a task apprehended by the one who so crushingly, at times, was too brutal with his actions and words...

She probably hated him.

"Yep, only a matter of time." He began, isolating the key for his mail, a wall across from hers as his was within the security of a penthouse box. And he took his time unlatching it, knowing well nothing would be in there. "Just the right time, in fact, to bump into you. How fortunate for me." The crook of his grin ran wild with the loot of it's luminosity, jubilation rearing on his expression singularly, and decorous, like ambrosia. "You look gorgeous. Do I get a hug?" Inquired with a fearless daring, seeing his expectedly vacant mailbox and shutting it up. He turned to her and opened his unwaveringly resolute arms, ready for refusal. "Or do you hate me too much to be within seven feet of me?"

He skipped one step forward.

"Six feet."