Revenge of the Teen Spirit
Aug 18, 2019 14:30:24 GMT -6
Post by Snick on Aug 18, 2019 14:30:24 GMT -6
Phrixos Pratt popped into existence on the tiny island that supported the lighthouse. His elbow was warm and numb, but throbbing dully. Not just from the impact with the barn-thing's floor-ceiling, but also the collision and tumble with Levi. The burns on his knees worsened with every step, causing Pratt to walk a little odd. A cloud of Kindred Spirit surrounded him, but he hardly noticed it now from smelling it for a while. He opened and closed the door to the keepers' building as quietly as possible and tiptoed into the common room, hoping everyone was already asleep.
Siobhan was curled up in the chair in the common room, waiting for Pratt. When he stumbled in, her first thought was that he was inebriated. But maybe he's hurt, was her second thought. Then she smelled him. He smelled like a girl. What had he been doing? She sprang to her feet. "Pratt?" Her voice was half question, half accusation. "What's the matter with you and why do you smell like a girl?" she asked, rushing to his side.
"I got trampled by Levi Laudbaum," it wasn't a lie. "He was on a scavenger hunt for his girlfriend. Knocked me over, rolled a little, banged my elbow and scraped my knees."
Shit, he'd forgotten about the smell, he was in such a hurry to get back. Pratt didn't want to give her the perfume yet. Especially since he didn't want to pull out the wrong bottle. Why hadn't he put them in separate pockets?? Maybe he could think of a believable explanation. "Do you like it?" he asked, heading for the kitchen sink, stalling for time. "It's called Kindred Spirit."
Phrixos slipped his shoes off and kicked them aside, then unfastened his pants. He had to put the fire on his knees out.
"Yeah, I do . . . so, Levi, knocked you over, banged your elbow and knees, rolled you, and doused you with perfume?" she asked, sounding like her mother without meaning to, and raising her eyebrow as he dropped his pants. She made no movement to look away.
He grabbed a clean rag and wet it under the cold faucet while kicking his pants off. They landed near his shoes with the almost inaudible tinkle of little glass bottles. Now in his shirt, boxers, and socks, he ambled over to the couch and fell back into the soft cushions. First a hiss, then a sigh of relief, issued from his mouth as he placed the rag carefully on one red, raw knee. Pratt wasn't sure if this was something he was supposed to do to this kind of injury, but it made it feel better.
"Yes. Except the perfume part," he sighed. "But it isn't what you think. Really."
Siobhan reached for his jeans. "It's in your pocket?" she asked, feeling it from the outside and noticing two distinct shapes as she brought his jeans over to him."Okay, if it's not what I think, what is it, and what do you think I'm thinking?" she asked, putting the jeans next to him on the chair, and looking at his bloody knee.
"It is," he nodded, watching her, barely resisting the urge to jump up and jerk the corduroys out of her hands.
Phrixos Pratt kicked himself mentally, again, for putting the bottles in the same pocket. No. He kicked himself because he shouldn't have bought the draft. Pratt felt naked, more than just pantsless. The fear and guilt showed on his pale face like dirt on a white car. A light sheen of sweat broke out on his forhead and he reached for his pants and reached into the pocket.
"I bought perfume for you, and I had to smell it first," his adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I bought it on the black market. I wanted a necklace or something... but this is the only thing he had that isn't enchanted."
He held a small bottle out to her, purple in color with a label reading 'Kindred Spirit'. Pratt was thankful the bottles were at least shaped differently. "I'm thinking you thought maybe I've been cheating on you," he laughed, relieved now that that was over. That she had felt two bottles, he as unaware.
She took it, sniffed . . . smiled a little. It was the smaller of the two bottles she'd felt. Meaning the other bottle was a bigger bottle of perfume, maybe for Iris, or . . . she wasn't fooling herself. She had a very good suspicion of what the other bottle was. "Thank you. This is nice." She kissed him sadly. "The other bottle, the bigger one. Who is that one for?" She bit her lower lip.
The uneasy smile that formed after handing her the bottle faltered. Standing, his knees cooled and cleaned, Phrixos started pulling his pants on without bothering with bandages or ointments. One leg, then the other. He wanted to lie, but he wanted to confess. His response fell somewhere in between, eyes only briefly meeting hers.
"I don't know what you mean."
Siobhan saw red. "Phrixos Azrael Pratt the fourth, if you want to say it's none of my damned business, then say it, but don't you dare lie to me. There were two bottles in your pocket, and you gave me the smaller one. I may be nosy and a worry wart and full of Catholic guilt and try to spread that onto my boyfriend, but I'm not stupid and neither are you!"
Siobhan was curled up in the chair in the common room, waiting for Pratt. When he stumbled in, her first thought was that he was inebriated. But maybe he's hurt, was her second thought. Then she smelled him. He smelled like a girl. What had he been doing? She sprang to her feet. "Pratt?" Her voice was half question, half accusation. "What's the matter with you and why do you smell like a girl?" she asked, rushing to his side.
"I got trampled by Levi Laudbaum," it wasn't a lie. "He was on a scavenger hunt for his girlfriend. Knocked me over, rolled a little, banged my elbow and scraped my knees."
Shit, he'd forgotten about the smell, he was in such a hurry to get back. Pratt didn't want to give her the perfume yet. Especially since he didn't want to pull out the wrong bottle. Why hadn't he put them in separate pockets?? Maybe he could think of a believable explanation. "Do you like it?" he asked, heading for the kitchen sink, stalling for time. "It's called Kindred Spirit."
Phrixos slipped his shoes off and kicked them aside, then unfastened his pants. He had to put the fire on his knees out.
"Yeah, I do . . . so, Levi, knocked you over, banged your elbow and knees, rolled you, and doused you with perfume?" she asked, sounding like her mother without meaning to, and raising her eyebrow as he dropped his pants. She made no movement to look away.
He grabbed a clean rag and wet it under the cold faucet while kicking his pants off. They landed near his shoes with the almost inaudible tinkle of little glass bottles. Now in his shirt, boxers, and socks, he ambled over to the couch and fell back into the soft cushions. First a hiss, then a sigh of relief, issued from his mouth as he placed the rag carefully on one red, raw knee. Pratt wasn't sure if this was something he was supposed to do to this kind of injury, but it made it feel better.
"Yes. Except the perfume part," he sighed. "But it isn't what you think. Really."
Siobhan reached for his jeans. "It's in your pocket?" she asked, feeling it from the outside and noticing two distinct shapes as she brought his jeans over to him."Okay, if it's not what I think, what is it, and what do you think I'm thinking?" she asked, putting the jeans next to him on the chair, and looking at his bloody knee.
"It is," he nodded, watching her, barely resisting the urge to jump up and jerk the corduroys out of her hands.
Phrixos Pratt kicked himself mentally, again, for putting the bottles in the same pocket. No. He kicked himself because he shouldn't have bought the draft. Pratt felt naked, more than just pantsless. The fear and guilt showed on his pale face like dirt on a white car. A light sheen of sweat broke out on his forhead and he reached for his pants and reached into the pocket.
"I bought perfume for you, and I had to smell it first," his adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I bought it on the black market. I wanted a necklace or something... but this is the only thing he had that isn't enchanted."
He held a small bottle out to her, purple in color with a label reading 'Kindred Spirit'. Pratt was thankful the bottles were at least shaped differently. "I'm thinking you thought maybe I've been cheating on you," he laughed, relieved now that that was over. That she had felt two bottles, he as unaware.
She took it, sniffed . . . smiled a little. It was the smaller of the two bottles she'd felt. Meaning the other bottle was a bigger bottle of perfume, maybe for Iris, or . . . she wasn't fooling herself. She had a very good suspicion of what the other bottle was. "Thank you. This is nice." She kissed him sadly. "The other bottle, the bigger one. Who is that one for?" She bit her lower lip.
The uneasy smile that formed after handing her the bottle faltered. Standing, his knees cooled and cleaned, Phrixos started pulling his pants on without bothering with bandages or ointments. One leg, then the other. He wanted to lie, but he wanted to confess. His response fell somewhere in between, eyes only briefly meeting hers.
"I don't know what you mean."
Siobhan saw red. "Phrixos Azrael Pratt the fourth, if you want to say it's none of my damned business, then say it, but don't you dare lie to me. There were two bottles in your pocket, and you gave me the smaller one. I may be nosy and a worry wart and full of Catholic guilt and try to spread that onto my boyfriend, but I'm not stupid and neither are you!"
