For the game: Mal refuses to sing- for anyone but Carlos. :D
you understand me. also i couldnt help but throw the other two in there lol. also this is entirely unedited and i apologize in advance for that lmfao
“C’mon, killer, you used to do it all the time!” Jay whined, hair splayed across the bedclothes where he was sprawled on top of them.
“That is a fucking lie and you know it,” She snapped back, tone putrid. Carlos rolled his eyes at the venom.
“Maybe we should drop this?” Evie smiled, though her eyes danced in a way that’s more of a threat than anything else. She was sitting at her desk, carefully hand-stitching a piece of fabric that Carlos couldn’t get a good look at, but assumed it was for Audrey, given the pink color.
Jay opened his mouth to retort and Carlos used his vantage point- sitting on the pillows above Jay- to kick him hard enough with his socked foot that Jay squawked and fell bodily onto the floor with a thump.
“Rude!” He snapped from the floor, but made no effort to move. Carlos rolled his eyes again, and stood, carefully making the bed as he went. He turned his head and tossed Mal a bored expression.
He snorted. “I didn’t even say where yet.”
She crossed her arms defensively. “I don’t care.”
‘Where’ turned out to be the Tourney fields. They were empty for the off-season, and despite being flat, empty fields, they managed to be much more private than anywhere else in the school. Sure, people could see what you were doing, but they couldn’t hear you, which, in Carlos’ opinion, means a lot more.
He was laid on his back, watching the way the sunlight filtered through her dark hair. She had a stick and was drawing crude drawings in the dirt, which would probably get them in trouble, but he didn’t really care. “You should sing.”
She didn’t turn her head. “Next I’m gonna hear you demand I draw you like one of my French girls.”
He could feel how crooked his grin was. “Do you want to?”
She slapped his chest without turning her head. “Aw, c’mon, Mal, please?” He whined, a half-mockery of Jay from earlier, and she groaned. She threw her stick across the field and turned her body to face him.
“Fine.” She snapped. Carlos clapped his hands happily and sat up, grinning. She gave him one last glare that didn’t have any heat before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, and singing him a quiet lullaby.
It was all soft, high-sopranos, something Mal was embarrassed she was good at. It was lilting and beautiful, about the moon and the stars being paper hung in the sky to bring them light. Not for the first time, Carlos wondered where she had learned it.
He leaned forward and took her hands, but she didn’t react beyond crinkling her eyebrows in concentration. It was a beautiful song, something between them that nobody else saw much of. Her voice was shy, but powerful, as if she was whispering something so important.
When she was done, her eyes fluttered back open, and she groaned and shoved his hands away. He fell onto the dirt giggling, looking up at the sky. “I don’t know why you like it so much.”
“You have a beautiful voice.” He replied. “I would be so sad if no one heard it. It’d be a waste.”
“You’re a waste.” She said, petulant.
He was laughing when he retorted, “Bite me.”
