#sunriscn

“Okay, question: Is it morally reprehensible to not correct someone who thinks I’m you?” 

“Slater." Kale stage whispered. “Slater. You—” Kale crashed face first into his best friend’s carpet. Kale really should have the distance to the floor memorized by now. He’d only been crawling through his best friend’s bedroom window for years. (Dawson’s Creek who?) "Fuck. Ow.” He rubbed at his nose with a pout. Carpet burn was supposed to be knees only! “Ow, man.” Wobbling like a graceless giraffe, he picked himself back up. “Slater,” he started again, “you fucking missed it. Preston’s party was so fire. You should have been there. The girls were...” He blindly searched for his friend on the bed with a chuckle. “The guys too.” Kale’s speech spun slowly, like wet cotton candy. “Yo, you got clothes I can borrow?” Kale finally crawled on top of the blanketed form, purposely bouncing the mattress. “Wakey wakey, Slay. Don’t make me sleep naaaaaked. You know I wiiiiill,” he sang.” It was true. Kale would. In a motherfucking heartbeat.

“Nah, see this is exactly the kind of shit that Patrick would pull. Setting me up with a ghost.” Lucas exhaled: a soft clouded scoff. Dating, let alone meeting people in LA, was difficult enough without being supernatural, but he couldn’t be pissed at his friend. Patrick was trying. “I mean, I can’t accidently kill what’s already… you know.” The smoke obscured the silver shine in Lucas’ eyes. “No offense, guy.” He tossed the cigarette onto the cement and stamped it out before clearing his throat with a cough. Wolfsbane fucking itched. “But since you’re here and I’m here, and it’s Halloween, let’s make the most of it.” Lucas grabbed his helmet from the seat of his gray Suzuki with a smile and a shrug. ”What could go wrong with a ghost and a werewolf?”

"I don't want to," she uttered frailly. "I want to love you. You're good and kind and sweet to me." With tear-blurred vision, Krysta closed the flower dictionary on her lap. "Please don't make me."

"Ian, what the hell are you talking about? I haven't said anything about being in love with Elijah. When would I—" Realization hit Chase like a snow-covered brick. Chance. That motherfucker. "I'm kicking his ass."

The ice in his glass clinked together as it melted. No matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't be the right thing to say. His half-empty cup was chipped around the rim. "Because..." Calvin swallowed. The urge to circle his finger along the jagged edge was inescapable. "Because there wasn't anything to say. It's not like... those feelings were going to change." Calvin's eyes finally met Marty's as he forced his hands to his lap. "Feelings don't have to be talked about. I just need to," sad laughter forced itself past his lips, "handle them better." He offered his friend a smile. "Look, I'm staying away from the ocean. And I even deleted my sad playlist. That's probably progress, right?"