#lit;

> Kip reblogs something mildly indicative that he both knows why you left and knows that you’re back. You didn’t forget him, you just haven’t had the balls to confront him. How do you return to your hatesprit in a way thats both sensitive to the situation and sensitive to the sort of relationship you have? 

> ...Had.

> Buy him flowers of course. But flowers he hates. Maybe a couple he likes. Maybe it’ll be especially awful if its flowers he hates mixed with flowers he loves.

Picking yourself up off the floor, you almost welcome your extra-high body temperature, because it’s goddamn freezing in here. You wander the house until you find his AC, and turn it down to a more hospitable temp. In your wandering you take notice to the fact that he isn’t here. 

Martha is, though, and your first smile of the day comes from the absolute shit she’s lost when she sees you. Barking, whining, jumping, licking, the whole nine yards.

You check the time and realize it’s morning, on a weekday. He’s probably at work, and you have a few hours before he gets here. Again the intrusive thoughts come; suggesting you just bounce and try again another way. But you just can’t leave him here, knowing he failed, wondering what happened to you. It occurs to you that you just need to accept your fate, and what’s more; it’s your turn to take care of him. You can’t imagine feeling what you’ve made him feel.

It also occurs to you as you’re looking at your pallid self in the bathroom mirror that he won’t let you take care of him if you yourself look like a pitiful wreck. So, in taking care of yourself, you’ll make it wholly easier to take care of him.

@kaysofourlives

> The brief conversation sets you on edge. Of course, your entire interaction with him today set you on edge. You’ve been stuffing it down, pretending like it doesn’t bother you. It really shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, but you doubt he really gets why it bothers you. Maybe he doesn’t even know. Regardless, you can tell he’s upset with you, so it doesn’t matter.

> You’ll get over it. You probably deserved it.

10. an assertive kiss.

Your palms are in progress of making an entirely new, undoubtedly moist climate between your skin and the purple plastic cellophane surrounding the flowers in your hands. You got this, it’s okay. Nothing bad is going to happen, you’re already dating him so this isn’t a big deal. It’s spontaneous and romantic, obviously. Obviously.

Obviously you’re fucking nervous. You’re not a master of romance and to him you’ve proven yourself to be regularly buffoonish, even. That’s why you’ve been standing outside of the pad area just staring down at the coords to his store for an indeterminate amount of time. On one hand, embarrassing, mortifying failure, your tongue gets tied and you look like an idiot. On the other, you actually succeed and get a really nice time out of it.

Okay.

You exhale and step on the pad, try to center yourself as if you could re-materialize not nervous. Once outside his store, you take a breath, rehearse what you’re going to say in your head, mind the hours of his store, and walk in.

“Afternoon hot stuff.” It rolls off your tongue smooth enough--after all you’ve never been shy with compliments. You approach him as he’s sketching something--there are a pair of women in the store who are browsing, but also giving you a sidelong glance. It’s cool, no sweat. 

You continue your gait up to him, your confidence catches his attention enough for you to reach out organically, and take his chin to tilt his head up while you seat yourself on his work desk. You lean down and kiss him, confidently, firmly, pushing through a sea of curls and a surprised breath. Your hand slides from his chin to the back of his head to secure the kiss before you pull back only inches and slip the bouquet into his lap. 

Your finger hesitates over the send button, but you balls up and push enter anyway. You tack on a bunch of back-loading because just sending your coords to him out of context seems way too cool for you. Despite all otherwise appearances, you are not cool.

You're actually super nervous. You've never seen a troll before, for one. For two, you're supposed to wine and dine him but like hateways, which actually means coffee and fight. You've learned a lot of things about trolls over the past week or so; one of which is that they are, allegedly, stronger and faster by default. You have no basis for comparison, because you're stronger and faster than your average human dude also. All you have is a reason to be nervous as fuck.

aye-aye capn kipper B) B)

God you're lame as fuck. Still, despite that, a little while later and some back and forth his little notif pops up again to let you know he's on his way. He spent all that time getting his outfit together. He doesn't know you've been dressed and ready for six hours and just too nervous to message, but he doesn't HAVE to know that.