Chase
Gert was pacing, and Old Lace was tucked away soundly in her head although she could feel her shifting and stirring. Even with her roommate gone, it would have been irresponsible to let her out. Gert couldn't keep things the emotions from funneling to her currently. Pacing was not something she did regularly. It was typically reserved for very complex homework assignments that required concentration. There could be something relaxing in the movement, but now she was just fidgeting and there was a terrible, horrible knot in her stomach.
Calm, cool and collected were out the window, and Gert was reduced to the sort of person that she didn't like. What the fuck was wrong with her and why couldn't she seem to stop it? Gert stopped and pressed her forehead against the wall, counting under her breath. That wasn't helping, either.
What the shit was going on? How the hell was it that whenever Chase Stein was in her life the whole world seemed to get shaken and strange? And how could she get that to stop?
Did she want it to stop? That thought made her start pacing again, muttering darkly to herself. "Stop it. This is ridiculous. You are not five years old. You can control yourself better than this. Fuck." There was a note of resignation rather than anger in the swear.