Friday [popcorn]

He held her in her dreams.

She rolled over, staring at the blank wall beside her bed, the clock ticking on her nightstand. She had just come back from class; her uniform blouse was unbuttoned and disheveled, and her heart beat violently. Her dream raced through her mind, through the gates she tried to put up in front of it. Hair plopped over her face, she kept rolling around across her mattress, hating herself and wondering why that day outside the coffee shop was so prominent to her. Why it occupied the space between her eyes and eyelids, why thinking about it was such a problem to her. It was not a big deal. Why did she make it a big deal.

She needed a smoke, she needed a smoke, she needed a smoke, she needed a...

The girl fling herself up, her shoes smacking on the floor. Here, she sat, her hand shooting to the phone on the nightstand, almost dropping it in her grasping of the device. But despite the rapidity of these moments, the rushed text she put together, her thumb hovered shakily over the 'send' button. Her bangs fell deep over her face, her forehead sweating despite the school's refusal to turn on the heat. The old clock still beat by the seconds that passed, letting her count the time she wasted by simply sitting there.

The darkness of an early winter's night clung to the sky, passing, slow but steady like molasses dripping into a plate, unstoppable, the more time she waited the less time she'd have to invite him over, the less time he could be there...

And like a dart, her finger shot down on the 'Send' button, and that was that.

'You wanna come over or something?'

She collapsed back into her bed, silently smacking her palm to her forehead, over and over again.

How did she get like this?

'Nah'

Liam clicked on his phone, sending the message and shoving the phone into his pocket, glancing around from his spot in the halls. To be blunt, he had been planning on heading to the rooftops to smoke on out, but to have an open invitation to visit his favorite blonde, well, he supposed that was an offer he couldn't pass up. The young man had switched directions at once, headed for the dorms and to her room.

It wasn't too bad of a walk around from where he'd been, ten or fifteen minutes at most. Luckily enough, one of her roommates had seem to be chatting down the hallway, leaving the front door wide open. He invited himself inside with little issue, remembering his way around the mess and knocking on her door.

Nah.

The message came a few minutes later. Each second felt like a burden on her, like another albatross being linked around her neck. And all this for a 'nah.' She smiled. What an asshole he was. Why was she getting so worked up about what he said that day? He was simply trying to cheer her up. It wasn't that big a deal. Wasn't he seeing some Maria girl or something?

Moments later someone knocked on her door. The girl groaned, rising, the uniform blouse hanging loosely over her shoulders. It was probably her roommate, asking her if she wanted to split takeout or something. There weren't many places in Rosebury to pick from, anyway. How many times did she want to have cafe food over and over and over again?

Maisie pulled the unbuttoned shirt further up to her neck, though it was just a formality, her bra still peeking through the gap, her navel lazily uncovered. Her roommates had seen her come out of the shower already with just a towel. This was nothing new, and she didn't really care.

She opened the door, leaning on the doorframe.

"I'm not hungry ri--"

Liam was standing there.

Liam was standing there Liam was standing there Liam was standing there.

She closed the door as soon as she opened it, but it could not have been ajar for longer in her mind.

"What the fuck!?" Her muffled scream was still loud through the door as she pressed her palms against it and shouted. "I thought you weren't coming, asshole!"

The Summer happened to be in the middle of a yawn himself when he heard the door click open, his eyes darting over and catching a quick glance of the girl leaning lazily against the frame. It was such a short look, but it was fair enough for him. Before he had the chance to say a single word, the door had already slammed back in his face, leaving him standing there awkwardly, his cheeks burning a light red.

"Change of plans," Liam called back through the door. He shook his head, making sure there were no clear signs of her roommates around before leaning in closer against the sleek wood. "... Surprise?"

Maisie began to button up her shirt frantically. Surprise? He was always like this! He was always doing something stupid and giving that one-liner. She thought about turning him away, telling him to fuck off, but instead the words replaced themselves, and she found herself opening the door again, still a bit disheveled, without her sweater and with her skirt ruffled, her shoes discarded and separated across the floor. "How'd you get in here anyway?" The open door seemed to tell the tale, and she specified, practically looking through him as she walked to the kitchen area, grabbing a glass and turning on the faucet for some water. "Did one of my roommates let you in? Where the hell are they?" The plastic cup almost seemed to be cracking under her grip. The last thing she wanted were a bunch of rumorers, babbling gossip about her love life like a couple of seventh graders.

It wasn't even her love life.

Despite the situation and her bitter attitude, he found himself with a small smirk all the same as she made her appearance once again, shoving past him. Liam gave her no decent answer, shrugging and glancing back at the open door. A few voices could be heard down the hallway, but not loud enough to be heard clearly. "How should I know?" He paused, leaning back against the wall aside her room. "I thought you left it open for me." His smile grew just a tad larger. "Am I still invited?"

She pursed her lips at him, leaning with her back against the counter. "Stop smiling at me like that," she snapped, deliberating on whether or not to splash the water at him. It was just water, right? It'd wet the carpet but only for an hour at most. "You broke into my dorm after saying you weren't going to see me. That's creepy, I could call public safety on you." She knew the number by heart, mainly because it was beaten into her at every campus preliminary event possible. For emphasis, the girl pointed out her phone, which sat on a nightstand between them, adjacent to the couch.

He glanced back over to the dorm, propped wide open with a book, and held back another string smirk. Yeah, he busted the door down alright. Maybe he should have known better than to mess around with her at that point, but admittedly, there was something about her harsh glares and attitude that he found more than amusing. Hell, it was cute, even.

"Do it then," Liam said, shoving his hands down into his pockets.

The harsh glares continues, but they became more sideways. she pursed her lips harder and stroked the sides of the counter, boosting herself up. "I'm too nice, I guess," she said with a grumble, staring him in the eyes, her expression lightening. It seemed more curious; when she was not giving pointed stares at people, her eyes were pretty wide and young. Around them were faint sleep lines and creases, though, her eyes appearing dark and sunken, especially in the bright lights that hung over the counter. "I did text you. But if you do that again, I'll definitely call."

Maisie downed the last of her water, tossing the empty plastic cup in his direction without a word. "Here," she said, her lips parting, perhaps to fling an insult, but she hesitated and said in a more neutral tone, "Put this in the dishwasher."

Liam swiped the cup out if the air, glancing down at it. Just some ordinary, cheap ware. He glanced back up at her from her spot a top the counter. "Is this my punishment?" The red-head pulled himself up and off the wall, walking past her and to the dishwasher. It was an empty thing of water he need only stick in the rack. He would think of worse fates.

Once the deed was done, he took it upon himself to go back to where she sat atop the counter, gazing up at her. "That wasn't so bad."

Maisie watched him put the cup in the machine, like a supervisor, swinging her feet absentmindedly and pressing her mouth sideways. He started going back, and she smiled, waiting until he'd returned to go, "Can you start the machine, too?" She hooked her heel in the handle of the drawer below her. "It is practically full, you might as well run it. It would be lazy not to."

He hated in his tracks, raising an eyebrow and leaning against the counter. Yeah, of course things wouldn't have been that simple. The red-head scoffed, taking a few steps back. "Should I sweep your floor while I'm at it? Or laundry?" Liam found his way under the sink, quickly picking out the soap and starting up the dishwasher, just as his dear Blondie had wanted. He tossed the cleaner aside, looking back to her again.

"If you would." There was no shame in taking the offer. The girl slipped back onto the floor, giving an exaggerated yawn, stretching high into the air to the point of standing on her toes for a moment. She circled him, or more semi-circled him, keeping her gaze and body turned to the boy as she passed, walking backwards once she did so. "Maybe I'll go get my hamper so you can start right on that," she said, almost daringly. Would he do anything about it? Maisie's mind raced; the girl's smile was slim. Perhaps he would try to wrestle her back. Or hold her, and kiss her, and...

She stopped in her tracks. Rather than heading to her room, she sat on the arm of the couch, holding her mouth like she was going to vomit. What were the briefest of innocent, hypothetical flashes through her mind now stood prominent. What the fuck was she thinking? What the fuck was she doing?

Liam scoffed, eying her as she passed by and held back the urge to roll his eyes. He wouldn't have put it past her to run in and try to grab whatever mountain of dirty clothes awaited washing. She simply struck him as much every since they'd met in that damned party... How long ago was it? Even so, he didn't mind terribly. If anything, he found it somewhat amusing. "Maybe that's why you really brought me here?" He muttered back, pausing as she leaned up against the couch. She looked pale.

The Summer let the kitchen, stopping a few feet away and leaning over her. "Sick of me already?"

"No, I..." The girl looked at him, moving her hand slowly from her face, but it returned when she looked at his eyes. Gracefully, she let herself fall onto the couch her bangs falling over her face, her hand to the ground over the side of the cushion. She stared at the ceiling, blankly, not examining the ceiling as much as herself. "Yes. You make me sick," she murmured, devoid of the sass her insults usually had.