eat or be eaten

[As soon as he started to stare, her posture straightened. She felt like a lab mouse being forced to run the maze for some horrid experiment, but probably worse as he tried to figure her out. The questions came and for once, she had absolutely nothing to say in response. She had no idea what drove her to come here over the dance in the first place, let alone why she obeyed that part of her. She ran a hand through her hair and looked at her feet as if they were suddenly interesting. After a moment’s pause, she looked up.]

[His brows were knit together in a second, his expression almost angry, and his body tensed involuntarily. It was completely against his will that his mind seemed to falter for a moment.] What? [He spit out the word harshly, but was too caught up in her confession to care about his attitude. Blinking -- as if it would actually make things clearer -- he regarded her with an even more intense, heavily questioning and confused look. She couldn't be feeling that way... because it would mean he was feeling the same.] Is this some kind of joke, Johnson? Because I know you well and this isn't the type  of shite you would pull.

[She rolled her eyes at his comments, pulling her knees to her chest on the edge of the bed, eyes on the bottle in her hand. She knew the act she was trying to pull was far from convincing, even to the most daft person. Instead of giving up and possibly just exiting the room, thus drawing herself away from the “fun,” she brought the bottle back to her mouth and took some more.]

Possibly. [He shrugged and tilted the bottle back, swallowing hard the ever foul taste. When he lowered the bottle again, he bent forward a bit with his arms resting on his knees for support -- and he stared at her. His gaze wasn't even close to admiring;it was more of an analytic sort of stare the one he had her fixed with.]

[After being directed towards the bottle, she was hesitant. She hadn’t really wanted to drink, but rather spend time with Luke alone, away from the party. She knew, however, that if she tried to avoid it, the charade would be up. A moment later, she sat on his bed with the bottle in her hand, turning it over, almost examining it.]

Well what'd you expect? There's no sugar in there, Johnson, and it won't smell like daisies either..

[While she knew he was right about the dance, she was glad she had come here instead of the dance. It was probably useless to have gotten dolled up and go through the motions of getting ready for a dance she had no intentions of actually attending, but she was a little glad she did.]

[With a shrug, he leaned back against the door after he'd closed it, taking in her last comment. It felt odd, unsettling, to have her act that way, even for a moment, and he decided he liked her shyness and awkwardness -- granted, he shouldn't be liking anything about her at all. His eyes searched her face and he was pleased to find the blush on her cheeks, right where it belonged.] It's worked for me so far.

[She would be lying if she said that his words surprised her. She thought to herself that she didn’t expect to take the offer either. However, she had a feeling he wasn’t going to be so quick to let her into his room.]

[He scoffed, unable to help himself. Dances were a waste of time and money, crowded with hormonal idiots and girls hoping for false romance. They were fools, the whole lot of 'em.]

[Lucy’s breath hitched when Luke actually answered the door. She had expected some snarky remark telling her to go away and had certainly not expected it. She cleared her throat before a blush spread across her cheeks and she shrugged.]

[His brow furrowed at her words. They were still at the door -- he was unsure of letting her in -- so he leaned against the door-frame partially blocking her entrance.] Didn't actually expect you to take it, Johnson. And I drink by myself all the time; I don't need anyone to do it with me.

[Lucy left her room after her roommate, and for all she knew everybody, had left the house for the dance. She relaxed against the door with a small sigh as her eyes looked down the hall at a door she had attempted to avoid all week. After kicking herself off the door, she nearly stumbled down the hall and knocked on the door.]

[He'd been nursing a bottle of vodka all by himself for a while now, completely convinced that the girl whose image had been knocking around his head lately wasn't coming. Johnson goes to balls, not bad guys's rooms. Why had he even been thinking about her? No reason. He shook his head and settled more comfortably on his bed, his arm behind his head -- until there was a knock at the door and a soft, girly voice called his name. Luke barely managed to shake off the surprise before he opened the door, still looking a bit far off.]

Aww does the wittle boy not want to sociawize? Is he a wittle cwanky? Maybe he needs a nap.

That doesn't even merit a response.

Can’t say as I have ever visited there, no. But no it doesn’t sound comfortable.

Then it's not my type of place. Case closed. Sod off now.

§ aaaaand ø

Oh, don’t you worry, I’ve got my whole youth ahead of me.

Good for you.

Calm down, fiesty pants. Just came to say hi to my least favorite person. [smirks]

Generally, people avoid their least favourite person; it's how it works.. Why you think doing the opposite has any logic, I don't really care to know.

Because you’re in my way.

Sucks to be you, then.

And what is yours? Apart from the obvious.

This time? [thinks for a moment before replying] Your face, I think. It just... disturbs me and puts me in a sour mood.