#eraserhead.

@honeyrodsoflandtown @landtownbabe

leah was on time. this was worth mentioning, both because she almost never was, and because no one else was. except stefan, of course, but stefan didn’t count, because not only was stefan always on time, but stefan was always early, and never concerned about being early because he always had so much work to do and he’d stay on his clunky old laptop halfway into dinner, anyway, so it was basically like he was actually always late, so really, it was just leah, and she was on time, and compared to everyone else, she was early, and it was a miracle. 

pickles were on the table in front of her. the bartender had offered leah chips, but eating before everybody arrived felt off. eating alone had always made leah feel lonely; nobody should eat without having someone to eat along with, that was what her mother used to say. so she sat and looked at the pickles she’d ordered to be polite, because she may be punk rock but true punk rock supported local businesses, and she flicked her black lacquered thumb nail against the stained redwood of the bar and waited for her family to arrive. the sound of stefan’s typing -- mostly the unmistakable clack clack clack clack clack of repetitive backspacing -- kept her company, before she finally heard the sound of the door swinging open. 

spinning around on the barstool, leah grinned at the approaching figure -- one of her own, just as she’d hoped! -- and promptly threw open her arms for a hug. 

“i’m so glad you’re here,” she whined. “i thought i was going to be alone with stefan all night.” 

“well, that is incredibly hurtful.” stefan said, but his tone was flat, and his eyes never left his computer screen. 

“where have you been?! family dinner night at seven means family dinner night at seven.” briefly having the higher ground on punctuality had clearly gone to leah’s head. “i’m hungry!”