solo_sword | Room 313, Saturday morning

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Room 313, Saturday morning

Jaina woke up with powdered sugar all over her and a sudden wish for amnesia. ...A gremlin killing spree would probably be frowned upon, right?

She finally made herself get out of bed, take a really really hot shower to get rid of the powdered sugar and to try to feel clean after singing inappropriately dirty songs to inappropriate people, frowned at the plant that seemed to be hanging from her doorways, and debated just getting back into bed.

And ow her chest hurt.

[Door closed, post open, though I'm afk for a lot of the day so yay SP!]

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"Your gremlins like music?" he tried, realizing his had no clear pattern.

"They have really bad taste," she decided, frowning.

"Hey, could've been worse," John pointed out.

"How?" Stupid question, Jaina.

"Are you sure you want to know?" John asked, eyes widening.

Jaina made a face. "Yes." Her chest hurt, she wanted to know how much worse it could be.

"Well, you could have been in a hair band and really screwed up your neck or set yourself on fire with pyrotechnics," he offered. "There's also that death metal with all the facial piercings and who knows how much of that would stay with you."

Jaina stared at him, mostly unsure of what the hell he was talking about, and that gave way to giggles. There was no other response to that.

"Yup," John said, sipping his own tea and wondering why he hadn't gotten coffee. It wasn't like his throat was sore.

"Would you still love me if I was a... death metal person with facial piercings?" she asked, mock-seriously.

John laughed, "Of course. Even if I had to tilt my head extra to avoid being stabbed while I kissed you." He was so caring.

"And I'd promise not to stab you on purpose," she agreed.

"I'd probably have to get some sort of matching piercing just to make things even," he said.

"We'd both end up in the clinic," Jaina decided. "It'd all go badly."

"Most likely," John agreed. "But knowing us, it'd manage to be fun anyway."

She grinned. "That's a big compliment to us, you know."

"Is it?" No, he didn't realize.

"Well, when even stabby times come from fun, I'd say so." That sounded strange somehow out loud.

John blinked a couple times as he tried to figure out that sentence, and then it was his turn to laugh and nearly drop his tea in his own lap.

"You're the one who said it'd be fun!" she pointed out, laughing that he was laughing.

"It would be!" And he still thought that. "Just, your word choice there," John couldn't seem to stop the mental image of facial piercing injury.

"Oh, hush," she said, attempting to cover his mouth with her free hand.

And then he was trying to lick her hand just because she'd covered his mouth. Call it a natural reaction.

At least he'd stopped laughing at her.

She pulled her hand away, wiping it on her shoulder. "No fair," she told him.

He smiled, "Fair?"

	
		OSZAR »

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