Coraline, Coraline/Wybie, detention [2/2]
The fingers scritched against his jeans as they travelled, and - oops! slipping! (tickling) down the inside of his thigh, so they had to climb back up. Coraline's nose was almost touching the desk.
Exploring was definitely still her thing - the woods around town, new acquaintances and their homes, him. She did that last one with whole-handed enthusiasm, when her parents were working or when Grandma was out visiting in the neighbourhood. Not only fingertips - her palms cupping the heat of his face, the softness of her chest pressed against his, her hair brushing his hip as she tilted her head--
The two fingers ran across his zipper, light, quick and spiderlike and not sexy AT ALL, he'd tell her, but right then he fell off his chair.
"Wybie! You okay?" Coraline leaned over, then jerked up to look out the window, looking interested. "Did you see something?" Back to him, concerned again. "Are you okay?"
"Are you okay, Wyborn?" the teacher said, also looking out the window. Sometimes when Wybie forgot not to have a personality, he got a little turned upside down watching the chaos theory of clouds twisting around, or he'd watch a cat (sometimes, a rat) outside, and wonder ... and fall, especially if some of their classmates noticed and tipped over his chair. Mostly they teased. It didn't usually lead to actual fights, or Coraline taking a deep breath and wading right in, but then there were days like today.
"Fine," Wybie said, "just fine." Glad I wore baggy jeans! "Enjoying the change of pace and point of view, practically." Coraline humphed a laugh and pulled him up.
"You know what? You guys shouldn't even be here," said the teacher, gathering the marking on his desk and grinning kindly. He was one of the ones who kind of thought there was something wrong with Wybie. "Why don't you head home?"
"Yeah? Thanks!" Wybie said, smiling, as Coraline jumped to her feet.
"Thank you! You heard the man, Wybie, c'mon!" She clamped that damn pretty, steady hand around his wrist and dragged him out - but Wybie dragged back as soon as they were far enough away from the open door, so they stumbled to a halt.
"Yoooouu! Coraline!" He made strangling motions with one hand as he slung his backpack on.
"You almost got us busted!" Coraline shot back. "But ... I guess you got us out of there."
"And you almost got me ... in front of a teacher!" He glared, and she fidgeted. A little guilty.
Then Coraline spun on her heel and stood still facing the exit, one foot held up high with goofy poise to take the next step. (She never bothered to remember not to have a personality.) "Let's get home! Come on, Wybie."
If he took an educated guess at translation: I'll make it up to you. You'll like it.
She stood like that, blushing, ready to take the step into the great unknown. Or, well, the really great semi-known, of sneaking upstairs and onto beds. The would-like-to-know-again.
It was nice that it was hard to tell how often he blushed. Except for the times when Coraline touched him to find out.
He put his arm around Coraline's shoulders and kissed her cheek, and she smirked and refused to put her foot down. She could get really cheesy. "Come on!" he said, and pulled her hand so they took the step simultaneously - weird little apology accepted.
"They could've called you Caroline, you know," Wybie said randomly.
"What? Ew. Then I might've been about as boring as my parents want me to be. If that's possible." She rolled her eyes fondly. Coraline: the kind of name parents might give when they knew they weren't that exciting, so the baby got a consolation prize.
"Absolutely no way," Wybie said with weary conviction. "You would've made up for it."
"Oh... Real smooth," Coraline said, elbowing him. She liked to save kisses until she could do them "properly".
"Appreciate it," he said as they reached the exit to the school. They blinked in the brightness outside and walked on with shoulders bumping, faster than normal. Wybie grinned. The world could've been ordinary.