“okay” she said.
“i said okay.”
he blushed. or rather, because he was dead, he became normal colored. “uh.” he propped himself on an elbow. “well.” she unburied her face from the pillow. “just, like—”
he leaned toward her. blue felt a thrill for a half a second. no, more like a quarter second. because after that she felt the too-firm pucker of his tense lips. his mouth mashed her lips until it met teeth. the entire thing was at once slimy and ticklish and hilarious.
they both gasped an embarrassed laugh.
trisivashkov said: but just think we get to decorate our new rooms
yeah, and you’ll help me
I hate moving like getting out of your own room and saying goodbye to people; but I love moving like getting to decorate a new room, meet new people…
An image of a girl, or something that had once been a girl, materialized out of the blackness. She was kneeling on carpet, her black hair falling over her bare shoulders as she leaned over something I couldn’t see. Her skin glowed bronze and shadows flickered over her face—she was b l u r r e d and i n d i s t i n c t , as if someone spilled a glass of water over a painting of her and the colors had started to run. And then the girl lifted her chin and looked directly at me.
You just have to feel it. You’ll know, okay? You just have to let it happen. And then, probably when you’re not looking, you’ll find someone who compliments you.