imessage to: cordelia
dick: art thou awake?

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imessage to: cordelia
dick: art thou awake?

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the forensics house was eerily silent, ridden of most of its tenants. dick found solace in his usual pockets of quiet throughout the building. the bay window on the ground floor. underneath the skylights in the second floor bathroom. that was the only fragment of normalcy around covington university. that, and the blind hatred cordelia underhill felt toward him. and sure, maybe he only fueled the dislike by acting like a pretentious asshole around her, but it was kind of fun to watch her heat up. almost as large as the thrill he found from listening to his own voice echo throughout the violet carter theater. of course, cordelia would be standing five yards to the left of him, glaring from the safety of the stage’s curtains.
cordelia’s bedroom door was conveniently cracked wide open. dick had abandoned his spot by the bay window bench to grab a box of raisin bran from the pantry--something he only did when he was either crazy bored or crazy worried. and he was a bit of both. after acquiring the goods, dick found himself gravitate towards the open door, and eventually, into it. “good morning, miss underhill.” he greeted, his deep voice filling the room. “and before you bite our thumb at me, i brought you some cereal.” dick extended the hand wrapped around the box to the girl, shaking the box gently.
🐤