I crash, and I break down.

Wise men say only fools rush in — Oh, but I can't help falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin If I can't help falling in love with you?

'Course, I wouldn't hit'cha with any. Them's good eats. -And it's not like she's that terrible on the eyes either. There were much better activities for a face like hers. Sensing her initial reluctance, Nate parks an elbow against the bar, resting his chin against the rough, red crust flaking off in his palm. Lips pursed, he slides the hand up along his jaw while the elbow unconciously slides farther along the counter, and eventually prompts him to lean at a precarious angle at the ledge of the bar. Scratching his stubble, head craned to the far wall, his large eyes suddenly dart sideways and stick to her, almost as if he'd expected her to ignore his “nonchalant” interest.-

Seriously, I’ll only laugh if ya sound like a chipmunk.

-Sitting back up straight with a smile as she relents, Nate leans over the counter to get a better look at how her fingers pluck the strings. Although it’s easy to get distracted while her chest expands with each note chirped. She really isn’t that bad, given the circumstances. Seemed like those chipmunk cheeks of hers could carry a canary’s tune after all. As her voice softens, he tips the bill of his cap back to scrutinize how she works her lips around each dying sound.-

She knows it's too kind, and she doesn't half-trust his intentions, but there's something... well, if not decent, at least close to it, under that rough and abrasive exterior.

"I think you're probably being too nice."

"I'm glad you liked it, though," she says, smiling, tucking a few errant strands of thick, dark hair behind her ear.

In the lull, it occurs to her that she hasn't even asked his name — something she would never have considered letting happen before. And maybe she can't trust him farther than she can throw him, but everything seems all right. So far, anyway.

      “Gotcha, sucker!”

So it wasn’t broken?

Dark eyebrows furrowing with irritation, Shel aimed a lazy swat for the back of her sister’s head. She gave a long suffering sigh when the girl simply ducked away.

      “Know what?” She said, keeping her voice neutral.       “I’m gonna go see if Boyd or Joyce need any help.”

A grunt was all she received in response, so she shook her head and stepped out of the diner. Truth be told, she knew the two oldest members of the group were fine on their own. She just needed a break from Becca’s bored antics.

      “Hey Sleepyhead.” The greeting was murmured to Stef        as Shel made her way to the RV. On her way past, she         gave a smile that warmed dark eyes out of their irritated        slits. She stopped walking and inclined her head.       “You okay?”

The sound of the diner door sounded behind her, but it wasn't until Shel approached that Stephanie managed to shake off her early morning reverie, rubbing a hand briefly over her eyes as she looked up, smiling, still a little sleepily.

"Oh — hey, Shel."

She shrugged, her arms falling gently to her sides.

"Guess I'm a little slow this morning," she said, a little sheepishly. "No big deal."

The light blue of her eyes flickered past the other woman to the diner, a slight knowing look of amusement in her expression.

Send me ✎ if you want me to draw your muse.