Eliot James (wickerwolf) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2018-12-28 23:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | #npc |
In hindsight, Liam knew public places were dangerous this time of year. But he also knew he couldn’t hermit forever, and he had to drop something off at Tristan’s hotel room. He’d hung out for a bit, stopped in on his sister, conversed. No one could say he wasn’t social, and he’d got out of all of it without much awkwardness at all.
And given it’d been over a week, no mistletoe in sight for Liam, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that his luck was wearing out. Said luck smacked him on the back of the head - not literally - but he’d heard that telltale jingle as a mistletoe magically appeared as he stepped into the elevator on his way down. Only one figure in the elevator was there, at least, so it wasn’t like he was going to be destined to kiss a dozen people, but Liam grimace upward, glaring before finally setting sights on the person in front of him, and letting his shoulders slump. “This is definitely my fault.” Eliot, on the other hand, instantly tensed at the sound of the Jingle, looking up with a comically horrified expression on his face. At least it was only one, he supposed - small blessings. As soon as he thought that another one appeared in the doorway and he dropped his head into his hands, groaning. “Are you kidding me? Am I just cursed or something? I don't think it's your fault, I think they're determined to kill me through sheer blood loss to anything that isn't my face,” he mumbled into his hands. Of course it had to be fucking Liam, who he'd definitely harboured a crush for when he was in school. Liam and his cousin, who he'd nearly given third degree burns to, so far. Fantastic. “Like. Come on, Atlantis, don't we have to deal with enough of your bullshit as it is back home? Do we have to deal with it on holiday, too?” He directed at the ceiling, half-panicked. What if they turned into mistletoe next? Good god. Liam couldn’t have backed out now if he wanted to. The mistletoe kept them both trapped, and with a sigh, he moved in a little closer. Nothing too personal space for El, but in arm’s reach in the elevator, as far away as the mistletoe would let him. “Hey-” Liam reached out to gently touch El’s shoulder, trying for a comforting pat more than anything pressure-y. “It sucks, I know. I’m pretty sure you aren’t cursed but--” He glanced up and chuckled, shrugging. “Maybe a little unlucky. I’m not even that pretty.” Liam also wasn’t usually one to be interested much in kissing or dating, anyway, so his mistletoe action in previous years had been …. Lacking. He knew Eliot hated this whole thing, and didn’t take it personally, his own small ego still dent-free even with the mumbling going on. “Well, that isn’t true,” El murmured as an automatic reflex, gently but firmly brushing his hand off and taking a breath. “Sorry, this is just- stupid. Who’s idea was it to drag us here and promptly throw us under mistletoe with our mates and cousins and shit? Christmas is about pigging out, not- Atlantis trying to awkwardly thrust people into a romance. It does enough of that back home,” he added as an afterthought, folding his arms and looking up at the mistletoe as if it had personally offended him. In a way, it had. “Do we have to kiss each other for it to work? Or can just- like, one of us kiss the other’s cheek or something? It should come with a stupid rule book.”
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