sprout.

The whole situation sounded absurd. He didn’t know why the girl was criticizing his work of art. Shouldn’t she be pleased that he took the time to put his art, specifically on her face… not that it mattered. “Oh no. Never. You’re not gonna get anything on my face.” His nose scrunched up instantly when he heard her remark. “Ten times more attractive you say? I don’t think that’s possible. I’m already very attractive.”

He never fails to amuse her, and she has to give him some credit for such a thing. But at the same time, he also never fails to cause the brunette to want to smack her hand against the back of his head, hopefully knocking some modesty into his head. It was all simply fun and games though, or so she hoped. “Ah, whatever. That might be true, but I’m still gonna get you. If not now, then you better sleep with one eye open. And yes, that’s a threat.”

Immediate laughter commenced; how hard it was to see herself as a sweet girl to begin with. She slipped a loose strand of hair behind her ear with the tips of her slim fingers, mustering up her best attempt at playing it off like she had as but a clue to what he was speaking of. “What are you talking about? I’ve never been that sweet.” Which was true, because she hadn’t.

Naturally, she wouldn’t have acted distasteful to anyone–especially if they didn’t deserve it–but she didn’t exactly go out of her way to be kind or over the top with her loving ways. She reserved most of that for the people she felt deserved it in her life, straying from setting herself up to seem too open, too available to be mistreated or misused as someone to taken advantage of. Kindness is always taken advantage of.

But in all honesty, she had been sweet to Gaeul from the start. He was definitely one of the few she felt deserved all of her kindness, all playful teasing aside.

A silence fell over her that, truthfully, was always rare for a girl like Ori. She had a lot to say--a woman of many words and thoughts. But the topic of death was something that never sat well with her. She understood it, but it wasn’t a reality to her. It wasn’t a fear for her. She’d accepted the fact that she’d outlive many people she came across in her life, and that’s just how things would be. She’d watch the people she loved grow older, and the only age that would show on her is the mere decay of material that could be fixed with repairs if she found the right people--the strays from the institute who would know how to help a Synth. 

It still didn’t make it easier to talk about the loss of lives, though. Anyone with their mind in the right place could agree on such a thing.

She bit down on her lower lip, eyes averted from the female before her. One of the biggest issues she had with talking about death is not knowing how to act, how to look, how to go about the situation in the proper manner. Was there ever a proper manner? She wasn’t sure.

☹ › on a bridge; traffic has stopped completely due to an accident, and nobody’s going anywhere for a few hours.

With the soles of her shoes held firm against the dashboard, a droning sigh fills the air. They were planning on taking a day trip to the countryside, just because, and apparently that’s all the reasoning they needed to get up and do so. At the rate they were going, however, it seemed like they wouldn’t even make it there until late evening--which is exactly when they planned on making their way back home.

She couldn’t help but pout. It was disappointing. Very disappointing. She lived for spontaneous things and being able to do such things with someone she could speak to easily. Sure, she actually managed to be able to speak to anyone fairly effortlessly, but he was definitely one of the ones she favored above all.