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@freyedlaces-blog
She was trying her absolute hardest not to cry, fighting tooth and nail not to blink as she felt her eyes well up. But at least one weight had been lifted, and maybe she could get a few hours sleep tonight now.
Y-You’re the gaylord, gaylord.
Yeah, yeah.. I’m the biggest gaylord. But I’m also your friend. And I kinda wanna stay that way.
Being alone was the last thing she wanted right now. She wanted to be held and comforted, told that it would be okay, even if she didn’t believe it would be. But there was no way she would ever ask for that. In fact, Fleta probably would have let her walk off, but she couldn’t let her go without clarifying something that John told her.
I don’t— I-I don’t hate you.
Though the words rang clear in her ears, though they sent an overwhelming shudder of relief down her her spine, though she felt as though a dark, heavy cloth over her heart had been lifted free, it was the sight of her best friend's face crumbling that threw Jacklyn's arms around her.
...Shut the fuck up, gaylord, and hug me.
She forced herself to stare at a book sitting on the shelf as she tried to breathe and reign in her emotions. Jackie was there and all Fleta could think about was all the ways she could twist this situation to make it sound like Jackie hated her, or was fed up with her, or thought she was being a baby. Fleta didn’t know what the truth was anymore. She finally allowed herself to look at Jackie, reluctantly letting go of her sleeve. But looking at her was hard, and she kept wanted to look down at the floor.
S-so?
Jesus, was she really that hard to talk to? Had that entire year where they'd progressively grown closer and closer up and evaporated? Was she really that terrible, that disgusting for Fleta to talk to anymore? Well, shit. That stung worse than chili pepper in a belly-button piercing.
...Forget it. Sorry to bother you.
It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t even escape the mess she’d made in her dreams. Since the boggart she hadn’t been able to handle everything as easily as she used to. Since the boggart… she tried to push remembering her dream away, and it wasn’t until Jackie spoke that she realised she had a death grip on her sleeve.
Yes-
Christ. She knew she was an all-out moron, but did Fleta really think she was that dull? To take in the look on her face, the state she was in, and think, 'Oh, fuckin' hell, well-- She said she's okay, so guess she's okay. Haha, gigglefart.' For fuck's sake, give credit where credit's due at least.
Well, that was probably one of the most badly covered up lies I've ever heard in my life.
Woah, there, camper. Calm down, it's just little ol' me. Her hand was still splayed against the other's back where she'd placed it, seemingly rousing her from something that Jacklyn herself would've been glad to be woken up from.
You alright?
I'm going to need you to fuck off because I need a private moment with this fucking cake.
No way. No such thing!
Hey, you know what they say, kiddo. You might not believe it but anything's possible in a world so seriously strange.
...
Oi, I'm Rob Dyke, e-e-e-ey.
I'm going to need you to fuck off because I need a private moment with this fucking cake.
That’s okay. I’m happy enough just watching.
...Is that what you're fucking into? Jesus titty-fucking Christ, Evander, go watch yourself some Magibon.
I'm going to need you to fuck off because I need a private moment with this fucking cake.
I would go. I totally would. But I don’t think I’m actually capable of looking away.
Say what you want, you aren't getting a bloody bite if it kills you.
I'm going to need you to fuck off because I need a private moment with this fucking cake.
I’m not that stupid!
Did you ask a house elf?! I really want one!
I'm telling you, kid: Soul cupcake. Right here.
I'm going to need you to fuck off because I need a private moment with this fucking cake.
Where’d you get that?!
Oh, y'know. Just hiked up to the top of the Himalayas to gather enough holy dewdrops from the flowers that grow there in order to trade for it in the black market. I heard it has the power to steal souls.
I'm going to need you to fuck off because I need a private moment with this fucking cake.
Admit it,
Maybe I like to be wooed, like with chocolate and shit.
On the second thought, maybe a dance and then a dramatic walkaway'll suffice.
Admit it,
You know where to find me, Frey.
What, you're gonna lead me on and then leave me to look for you later? Talk about a dick move, Longbottom.
Admit it,
Not like that.
Whose fault is that?
Admit it,
Careful now, don’t want to oversell yourself.
Have you met me?
I try, I try…
[He holds it together for just short of a few seconds before bursting out laughing, letting go of Jacklyn’s hands to hold his sides.]
