on to the big finale ! our lead has been hanging on by a teensy thread all night, pouring drinks & forcing smiles, weighing down her emotions with the metaphorical equivalent of a four wheeler. & every cell in her body is begging her to pretty please, with cherries on top, get a fucking grip – can you spell yikes ? allie's inner monologue is harsh & doesn't pair well with the cold breeze against bare skin now that she's outside malone's, sitting on concrete steps leading up to the back door. grief loves an easy target. & these past few weeks, she's been nothing if not a huge, bright red bullseye for it – she's been thinking about her mom. & no, missing her is not uncommon. it's an every day for the rest of her life type of deal, actually, but she's equipped to handle it ! most days, at least. & there's nothing in particular that makes today special, but she does feel especially exhausted. not physically, god forbid, her body is a temple, but emotionally. & what do you know... one of the reasons for that just so happens to be walking her way now, having masterfully caught on to her less than sunshine-y disposition. super.
he doesn't say anything when she scrambles to wipe away her tears, nor when she accuses him of totally abandoning his friends & his puck bunnies to hang out with her by the trashcans. by the time he sits down, completely unfazed by her ramblings, she's all out of ideas & even more weirded out. not because he's making things worse. but because he's making them better. when exactly was the last time dean six flags di laurentis had a calming effect on her ? on anyone ? deep breath in now, she feels the warmth of his knee against her own & catches his gaze. soft at first, then questioning with a playful glint. " you're just... all up in my personal bubble right now. seriously, i can see your pores, this is not... " she chokes out a laugh, shoulders losing tension against all odds, " ...a two-person kind of seat, you know ?? "
