a little smirk is adorned when she presses ‘send,’ and the grin doesn’t really leave her face for most if not all the rest of the time she waits, save for few minutes she takes to brush her teeth and rinse with mouthwash ( twice ). she also takes a few minutes to clean her room, dirty it again while changing shirts four or five times, and then cleaning it again, and by then, debra thinks of one more text to quickly type and send.
[ SMS: sent ] My front door’s unlocked, if you want to let yourself in.
and he does let himself in ( wants to, remarkably ), granted admission by a timely text as he is pulling in to her driveway. a smile embellishes the plane of his features as he reads the reinforced invitation, leaving it on read receipt to attend to more pertinent matters that await him indoors. it is important to dismantle ideology that surround the typical BOOTY CALL in this case, as these to alex does not apply --- he is nervous, for starters, more than usual, and fueled with an elation that is not only uncharacteristic of a casual screw, but typically beyond him ---- because he likes her, bless his heart, as if the day may never come; there may not be an opportunity to bring her home to dearly departed mom, certainly not an opportunity to show her off to dishonorably detained dad unless she didn't mind the close quarters of a jail cell, but he can make his own peace with it. sufficient enough would be the final reason to waiver any preconceived notions regarding this evening, and quite possibly what seals his fate------- alex’s potent FEAR of this running its course without prospect of solidarity. juvenile, perhaps ----- naïve, a little; but nonetheless true.
upon padding in softly, undetectably, into her quarters, he makes no endeavor to alert her to his presence. he allows her to take her time attending to her own pertinent business behind her sealed bedroom door, allotting himself the opportunity to inspect. eyes flicker over the array of pictures in the general area, taking closers steps to vet further. pictures of her younger years, her own, idiosyncratic version of a gentler time are admired with a contemplative simper, and he finds himself so heavily submerged by the exposure that she has managed to catch him off guard. he entertains the wave of paranoia her aura produces by peering over his shoulder, shortly before swiveling forward on the axis of a grounded heel as though having been caught stealing the cookie from the infamous jar.
❛ -----oh, hey. ❜ he greets in sheepish undertones, lips capsized from their typical frown to a sloven grin. ❛ i - i was----- just looking at your pictures . . . ❜ he excuses reticently, a limp finger pointing toward the frames as though she may fancy herself bemused by his meaning. ❛ y’know, y - you were cute then . . . ------ i was . . . -----s wondering what happened. ❜ and he shows the full elasticity of a smile typically concealed in the light of day as he utters the sardonic remark. chalk it up to the one merited the least likely person to provide comic relief superlative to showcase when tensions of intimate nature are highest.
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