go chase the ra bb it
[ three. ]
Sheâs pouring herself a glass of orange juice when he walks into the kitchen. His hair, a shade darker where it is plastered against the back of his neck, is pushed out of his steel eyes with a wide hand. Her gaze scatters, light caught in air, her gaze scatters blue.
The corner of his mouth twitches.
He might as well be laughing out loud at her.
Raven brings the cool glass to her lips. He shrugs out of the grey sweatshirt, almost unselfconsciously. Thereâs a thin line of tension across his shoulders, back muscles pulled too tight but sheâs never studied him this closely; she doesnât know if itâs always been there.
If he had been anyone else (if sheâd been anyone else), she might even claim heâs showing off.
Her eyes catch on the dark ink on his inner forearm when he lifts a glass of water to his mouth, a mirror showing an ugly truth, an ugly victory in his eyes.
He looks at her like he knows something. Her blonde hair, her blue eyes reflect in the glass-like, silver-lined irises that belong to him.
He doesnât know anything.
