let's go out tonight; chris.

[musk]

[note: this thread is a continuation of hurr and begins at the front of the school.]

Claire couldn't stop jiggling her leg as she leaned up against the wall of their daunting Academy. Dressed in her usual lazy manner, Claire had donned a plain t-shirt and snug little pinstriped vest that had been Connor's when he was little. Her jeans were nothing new, ripped and loose enough around her waist that her hips poked out over the waistband.

Running a hand through her hair, Claire tipped her head toward the sky, which was quickly growing dark as she waited for Chris to exit the school and meet her. Her heel was still bouncing up and down anxiously, and in the silence of the surrounding grounds it was easy enough to hear the way her ankle jingled. Something about tonight felt different, and it showed in her whiskey-colored eyes, even though she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She and Chris and spent enough time together, trading old albums and catching the occasional lunch in town when class just didn't sound appealing. They'd wasted enough nights goofing off in the Common Room and there were times when she felt as comfortable around Chris as she did with her brother and Theo. Though that was a bit of what unnerved her, the ability to completely let her guard down around someone she hadn't known for near long enough; it made her cautious.

The wind picked up and Claire folded her arms over her chest, eyes falling to the ground and her old teal converse as the autumn leaves blew past her feet.

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

Chris stopped abruptly as he came to the exit of the Academy, halting his previously speedy pace in favour of a more composed one. Composed he was not, but that didn't mean he couldn't at least pretend he was in control of things. So he walked the rest of the way over to Claire as if he'd been keeping up the same leisurely pace ever since he left the dorms.

"Hey," he said as he approached her, "I'm not late, am I?"

He had actually found the the time to accessorize, and was wearing a beaded necklace with some tee he found, and had thrown on a pair of jeans that he had actually worn out himself, unlike most of the same sort. He didn't believe in buying jeans pre-distressed; he liked to give all the wear and tear its own stories, experience every rip and stain for himself. This pair wasn't in all that terrible condition though; he'd worn them on purpose because he knew Claire liked her torn-up jeans and didn't want to 'cramp her style'.

On top of all that, he was wearing a plainish suede jacket that he'd grabbed from a chair on his way out, and upon seeing her standing with her arms crossed over her chest, wearing naught but a vest, he felt a strong urge to give the girl his jacket.

"Cold?"

Of course not, just look at how bundled up she is.

Well, I'm not going to force my jacket on her.

You might as well. You never get cold anyway.

True. I'll probably start sweating soon, damnit...

[musk]

"Of course not." Claire found that the sound of his voice made her smile, and she quickly bit her lip, turning to face her friend with a buttoned grin. She looked down, trying not to let her eyes linger on his face in that appreciative silence she was always tempted to fall into when their eyes met. Running a hand through her hair again, the brunette shook her head.

"Not really. I'll warm up when we start moving." Claire jerked her head toward the Grounds before them as she spoke, slipping her hands into the front pockets of her torn jeans. Grinning, she looked over at Chris before starting to head down the stone steps.

"So," She slowed her pace once they reached the grass lawn of the Academy "How've you been mate?" Claire hadn't seen the boy besides her all week, which was much longer then they were prone to spending apart, and also part of what had prompted her to encourage him to get his butt out of the castle for the evening, and she was curious what he had been up to as of late.

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

Just seeing her smile, and hearing the sound of her voice, helped to soothe away any of the worries he still had left over from his angst-fest in the dorms. Something about the girl that he just couldn't place was like a soothing balm that helped him forget that there was anything in life to even be worried or upset about, and for the most part, he didn't even notice it happening until he was already too euphoric to be worried about it.

"That's good. It's rude to keep a lady waiting," he informed her with the voice of a teacher trying to impress upon his students just how important what they were learning was. "Especially in the cold," he added pseudo-nonchalantly, clearly not ready to give up on offering her the jacket yet.

I think she gets it.

Maybe she's just being polite.

How about you try letting her?

...fine then. I won't be a gentleman.

He gladly walked alongside her as she started off down the steps, though he found himself unconsciously at her hands on more than one occasion, thinking it would be nice to hold them. Physically, he wasn't much more comfortable with the gorgeous girl than he was upon first meeting her; he was still beyond shy about touching her. He had no idea how she felt about it, but he presumed she wouldn't be nearly as uncomfortable as he was; she always seemed to have a better handle on things than him. Though, he could never quite know if she actually did have a better handle on things, or was just good at looking like she did.

"Pardon? How've I been?" His terrible hearing mixed with him (somehow) being caught off guard meant he nearly missed the question. But he had heard it, and the events of the previous fews days flashed through his mind.

Let's see, nothing, nothing, fawning over Claire, nothing, missing Claire, nothing...

...I get the point...

...nothing, nothing, writing sappy poetry, nothing, and oh yes, one extra-large emotional breakdown a matter of minutes ago.

...seriously...

You're quite the busy-body in her absence, aren't you?

"I've been great," he lied. "Keeping busy with school and stuff. You? I haven't seen you in... I dunno, a week...?" he trailed off and shrugged.

Six days, sixteen hours. Give or take a few minutes.

You're pathetic.

[musk]

"More or less the same deal. Though I went out to the bar with Connor and Theo the other night, caused the usual bamf ruckus and chaos and such." Claire grinned, recalling of the night in question for a moment. It had been one of the Musketeers usual escapades, full of obnoxious drunken revelry and rebellion. Her best friends had not been remotely enthused about moving to Missouri, but it was closer to home than the Academy's last location, and regardless of all their griping, both the boys knew that they really had no choice in the matter; they just simply couldn't be separated again.

"Which reminds me, when you lose tonight, and trust me," Claire looked over at Chris and tipped her head forward, a look of defiant humor on her face. "You will loose, dinner includes a beer or two for me. I've ran sober for a few days and I'm going bonkers." Little Claire Langden was still thankfully in the beginning stages of alcoholism, where she rarely drank alone unless she was mind-numbingly bored, or desperately needed to be desensitized. More than anything, she just liked the easy dose of courage and guaranteed entertainment that alcohol brought to her, and unless some great tragedy was to befall her soon, it looked like that was how things would stay.

Besides, they both knew there was no way she could possibly lose their game of pool. Claire had grown up in the billiard bars with her brother, and had a bit of a gift for the game. She had spent a few years practically robbing most the lower side of Jersey by betting anyone she could on a game or two. She had to pay for her beer somehow, after all.

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

Chris, in his verbally-challenged glory, responded with an acknowledging nod and the slightest of smiles as Claire went through the motions of polite conversation. This was not to say he didn't appreciate the words, though; it didn't feel like the stiff sort of small-talk that you exchanged with people you didn't know and would probably like to smack, it felt comfortable, lulling even. It was, in short, nice.

Oooh, Theo and Connor. Never mind meeting the parents, these guys are the other two thirds of the Claire equation, and you haven't even seen them yet?

She'll introduce us eventually.

But Chris wasn't fooling either facet of himself; he was scared to death of meeting the other two, and had managed to smoothly evade earlier attempts at a meet and greet. Of course, he couldn't pull that for long before Claire clued in; she was probably the smartest girl he'd ever met. And the worst part is, he couldn't even blame his irrational fear on them being older than him, because they were actually pretty much his age. Really, what the nerves boiled down to (other than, of course, the fact that Chris had anxiety issues in general), was the simple fact that these guys were Claire's older brothers, if not by blood than at least by a life bond.

This was important to Chris for several reasons, not the least of which was that older brothers are notoriously protective of younger sisters, especially when it comes to, dare he think it, boyfriends. And while he wasn't quite a boyfriend yet, he liked to think (in his more optimistic moments) that there was a chance he might eventually be. Maybe even a good chance.

But this was not the most important aspect, not by far. Chris was a big brother himself, and there was one thing he had learned about his siblings' love interest, and even just friends; if he didn't like them, they didn't last long. This wasn't due to any direct meddling by him, it just always seemed to work out that if he didn't get along with someone, their relationship with his sibling generally didn't last long, whether it be friendly or romantic. And the very last thing he wanted was for this relationship to not last, so it was incredibly important to him that he make a good impression with Claire's best buddies.

Add to that some crippling self-image issues, and you've got one hellishly worried guy.

But this was actually not what was on his mind at the moment. No, far more pressing issues had presented themselves. Mainly some differences he was still getting used to in the new locale.

"Oh believe me, I hold no illusion of glory to come,' he admitted, hands held in front of him in a defensive/submissive gesture, "but, uh... well..." Dinner wasn't a problem; he could easily scrape together the cash for a decent meal. The problem was the beers.

Chris was pretty much convinced he was the only teenager on the planet who didn't possess a fake ID of some sort. Back in jolly old England, it hadn't been an issue for the eighteen year old, but here in Los Estados Unidos, where the legal drinking age was a ripe old twenty-one, he wasn't exactly waltzing around with a wagon full of scotch in tow.

"Oh, nevermind; I totally did bring my wallet. Scared for a second there."

It hurt to lie, it really did, but he told himself that he really was scared for a second, and in fact, he still was. Now that he'd made the brilliant decision not to tell Claire he couldn't buy booze, he'd either have to own up to it later and make a fool of himself, or find some way of getting his hands on some.

This should be fun.

Oh, loads...

Just try not to end up in jail. I'd rather some big black guy not---

Yeah. I get it.

[musk]

Claire wasn't always good with reading people and the things they never actually said. More often than not, she was simply completely lacking anything resembling tact, and just didn't bother to pay any attention to what went on between the lines. Other times, she had no need to interpret the unsaid because Connor and Theo, who she wasted the majority of her time with, never left anything up to the imagination. But with Chris, who was even shyer than Claire herself, there was much that went unsaid, but enough that could be deduced.

Certain subjects always, without fail, made the boy besides her nervous. Theo and Connor for instance, always seemed to cause the boy a bit of unease. At first Claire had assumed it was because they were all she spoke of some days, and so he had to simply be irritated with the subject. But after they had spent enough time together and Chris grew a bit easier to understand (though she feared if she would ever be able to fully 'get' the boy, for all his quirks and oddities she wondered if anyone did), she learned that he wasn't irritated with her at all. In truth, Chris seemed unable to be cross with her, a fact that she often thanked. Still, something set her friend on edge about Claire's best friends, and she was curious what it could possibly be, and what repeatedly possessed Chris to avoid meeting the other two boys.

Often times, she was tempted to use her gift to her own advantage, and once in a while, she fell a bit short with the morals and did indeed, pry into her friends mind. It was a rare occurrence, and she was hardly able to pick up anything, considering that Chris' mind always came across as much louder than anyone else's, as if there was an argument going on in there something like constantly.

They had parted from the school grounds now, gravel crunching under Claire's worn Converse as they continued to head toward the out-of-the-way bar she had in mind. Small enough, clean enough, cheap enough, and they had a hell of a pool table; clean, polished, tournament sized with carved legs and 1920's pockets.

Claire, sadly enough, missed the comedic anxiety she was causing Chris over her mention of beers, though one has to wonder why the poor boy could be so enamored with someone who caused him such epic levels of stress. It probably would have been in the boys best interest to simply admit his plight, considering that Claire, being the Queen of the Scatter-Brains and such, was constantly forgetting and subsequently not used to, the raised drinking age in their current spot on the map. Had Chris admitted to his panic, the littlest Langden probably would have simply giggled and simply confessed herself to be a moron who was it seemed was still stuck in Britain.

The stubborn November wind picked up and Claire's pointed ears were already turning red at the tips and she crossed her arms over her chest to try and shield off the chill. Looking over to Chris, she grinned with amusement.

"Alright kid, now's about the time you offer me your coat because I am freezing." She winked, never one for formalities, especially when it came to Chris.

[okay bby, i had to post this really fast and bad form (!), didn't re-read it, so don't sue me since it sucks. :/]

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

^{shaddup, you write great <3}

"Oooooooh..." Chris said haltingly, as if slowly realizing something. "Actually..."

'Actually', some new, more forceful, more assertive 'voice' had come from somewhere in the back of his mind and thrown one simple word into the equation.

No.

One word that spoke volumes. A simple no was all it took for Chris to realized that lying was wrong, that he should just admit what was up, and that Claire was the last person in the world who would make a big deal out of the whole situation. Something told him that this... this... whatever it was that he had with Claire was far too good to let it be tainted with deceit and secrets and hiding how he felt. This was how the rifts in every relationship began, and he wasn't going to let that happen.

"I don't think I'll be able to get the beers for you, now that the drinking age is like twenty one. I mean, I could steal them, but I have a feeling this date wouldn't last too long if I went and got myself arrested or something." He winced inwardly as he realized he'd went ahead and called this, whatever it was, a date, but he was on some sort of honesty-high, and the slip-up didn't phase him for long. In fact;

"And also, I've been meaning to tell you, I've kind of been bending the truth a little to avoid seeing Theo and Connor. Honestly, I'm just friggin' scared to meet them. I don't want to make a bad impression on the like, two most important people in your life." He offered a sheepish, apologetic sort of smile, and a red tinge that had nothing to do with the cold leapt to his cheeks.

One word.

What?

One damn word, and you're jumping through hoops. I nag you all day and you don't listen.

That's because you are the devil on my shoulder.

I'm also right more often than not.

I think someone's just jealous.

The truth was, the boundaries between the different 'sides' of Chris were not so easily defined. There was overlap aplenty, and nothing was black and white. Still, for the most part, there was naive, doormat Chris, and pessimistic, cynical Chris. But now, there was something new. Some part of him that wasn't willing to just roll over and let him screw things up with someone who was probably as perfect for him as he was going to get, some part that wouldn't let past experiences or fear get in the way of happiness.

He didn't know whether this was some new facet of his personality, or if it was simply happy-him getting smart, but he did know that he liked the feeling it gave him when he listened to it. It made him feel powerful, in control, freer and lighter, and above all else, he was happy.

Noting that Claire was looking more cold now instead of warmer as she had promised, he snapped out of his mental reverie. He was already moving to take off his jacket when she finally admitted she was cold, and he couldn't help but feel some sense of smugness at his 'victory'.

"You'll warm up when you get moving, eh?" he said with a teasingly bright (though still toothless, as per usual) smile, slowing until he was behind Claire and sliding his jacket onto her shoulders. "You're lucky I didn't decide to just keep it for myself, Miss "I'm too good for your jacket.""

Once the jacket was applied, he rubbed Claire's arms down momentarily to try and help warm them, and wished he'd grabbed something with a hood, for her ears. Sidling back around to her side, he left an arm on her opposite shoulder, so he ended up walking with his arm around her. It was a pretty bold move on his part, at least comparatively, but he thought he'd been really smooth about it and if challenged, he could surely blame it trying to fend off the cold.

_{seems abrupt to me, but oh well ;D}

[musk]

"Chris," and she smiled just then, because that's what his name always did to her, "you're adorable." Because for a moment she couldn't think of anything else to say. Knowing Chris as well as she did, Claire knew that it took a special boost of nerve - or as she would refer to it, 'moxie' - for him to admit the things he just had; and she appreciated it more than she would be able to tell him.

"I obviously haven't adjusted back to living in the states." Her lips curved into a crooked grin that made her look both assured and nervous, and beneath her dark brown tresses, she could feel the tips of her pointed ears growing red. "Oh well, another date." A little of the nervousness faded from her smile, easily replaced with a touch of warm humor that was very Claire. Whatever this was, this being both the night ahead of them and their unconventional relationship in general, she was simply going to enjoy it, instead of analyzing it.

“You‘re actually nervous about meeting those retards?” Claire looked over her shoulder simply out of instinct the second the words left her mouth. If Theo or Connor had been around to hear her making fun of them, she surely would have been eating her own words just moments later, but her best friends were obviously no where to be found and so she continued, injecting a little amusement into her grin that would leave her looking nothing short of coy. “Don’t worry,” she reassured him just as he slid his jacket over her shoulders. “They live by that ‘any friend of Claire’s is a friend of mine’ sort of deal. It‘s part of being a musketeer.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him genially, her eyes lingering on his for a pregnant moment. “They already love you,”

And with Chris’ arm around her shoulders, the half-elf couldn’t resist grinning as she walked a bit closer to him, her hip set snugly against his own as they entered Masonville.

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

"Yeah, well, that's probably just you rubbing off on me," Chris shot back, this sort of talk being something he was much more comfortable with. There was a certain ease about complimenting deserving people, almost like it would just be strange not to, and compliments were usually the first thing he was comfortable talking about with people. And even though all he did was highlight the truth, put it in bold and hand it back to them, they seemed to like it. Which was completely fine with him; he liked being liked, especially by people he liked.

"You think it's hard for you? Trying coming from Canada, moving to Britain for a few months, and then to wherever-the-hell we are in the States. I'm bloody disoriented!" And then, catching the British phrase, his patented not-quite-a-laugh. "See? I'm still speaking UK-speak! What's the bloody American word for bloody?" The laugh receded, but the not-quite-a-smile stayed behind, as if it enjoyed the view of Claire. Which was probably true, considering the rest of Chris sure did.

And it's position was only reinforced when Claire, in turn, called their outing a date, though he averted his face slightly to try and hide how ridiculously happy hearing it had made him. It was well disguised as a look at something in the distance, and Chris' eyes often wandered like that, but he was pretty sure he was basically oozing happiness from the seams by this point, so he figured she, being of unusual talent, would have a hard time not noticing. Not that he really minded; the 'masking his happiness' was more of a habit than something he did because he felt the need to.

"Yeah, I guess so," he managed to finally reply, and only then distractedly. A situation that wasn't helped at all by the fact that he was trying to put to words his concerns about Claire's closest friends. He found that he was having a very hard time doing this, which was nothing new, but for some reason it bothered him more now, maybe because it meant the momentum from all the open-being was likely to wear off before he got what he wanted to say, said.

"I don't know, it's just like... well, these guys are a pretty important part of your life, and if I didn't get along well with them, I'd never want you to pick me over them, you know?"

But I'd never be able to let you go, either.

You are such a sap.

"But I guess if you say there's nothing to be worried about, that's good enough for me. You know them better than I do." His smile was reassuring, his eyes genuinely free of worry for once in his life; it was clear that he was finally beginning to accept that maybe, for once, something was going to go well, and that worrying would no longer be a shield from the pain of disappointment, but a barrier between the two that he was only just learning how to tear down.

There was a certain tranquility there that he had never felt before, and he found that it made him want this walk to last forever; the bar could wait, the pool table would still be there another night, but no moment with Claire was one easily duplicated.

[musk]

"I'm not adorable, that's girl stuff." Claire scrunched up her nose, looking nothing short of adorable and wildly childish as she tried to reject his compliment, but only in the sweetest of ways because there was a hint of color already flooding into her cheeks that she couldn't possibly play off as anything but a blush. "I'm badass." Her laugh was sudden, sweet and amused as she bumped Chris' hip with her own, feeling up to her usual and playful self.

"Hmm, the American equivalent of bloody? I think it's 'fuck', probably." She laughed once more, fleetingly wondering if she should have been worried about how a simple compliment could get her blushing like mad, but it would be a cold day in hell before Claire Langden was ever embarrassed about her habit of swearing like a sailor. It came from growing up around two boys, she suspected, and having a father that was a refugee of the punk generation, and who had never felt the need to keep his language in check, despite what their mannerly mother had wanted.

Talk turned to Theo and Connor again and the girl found herself watching Chris' features because his hesitancy was absolutely the most adorable thing she had ever seen, and maybe it was more that she knew exactly what was making him so nervous, and she thought it to be terribly sweet, as Chris always was.

"Well, that's because I never would." Blunt and deathly honest, Claire was sure that was absolutely the last thing he wanted to hear, but she had always been far too slow to bother with sugar coating things. Theo and Connor were Claire's life, completely and totally her sole everything, and there was a part of her that knew it would always be that way. She was first in their lives and they were always first in hers; it was silly and stubborn and a bit tragic, but thus is life.

"But I would never have to, ya know?" She slipped an arm around Chris waist suddenly, and gave him a gentle squeeze in the imitation of a hug, trying to somehow make up for sounding like a jackass just thirty seconds earlier. "They would never do that to me, and like I said, they already love you." She smiled warmly just then, the tips of her pointed ears going red again at her next admittance.

"They know how much you mean to me."
Winking in an attempt to take some of the weight of her words, Claire's arm stayed looped around Chris' waist and she pretended not to notice as they neared the bar.

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

"So it's okay for me to be adorable, but not you?" Chris teased, sounding a little affronted at the thought that Claire found him to be 'girly'. "And you can totally be both. Like that girl... uh..." He waved a hand around and looked skyward as he tried to remember who exactly it was that fit the bill; adorable and badass. "Oh, yeah, you!" He could no longer contain a grin, and he bumped Claire's hip again with his own, keeping up the thigh-tag a while longer.

"'I'm fuck disoriented'? Doesn't quite have the same ring to it," Chris said, the swear sounding foreign coming from his lips. He obviously wasn't as clueless as he sounded, but where was the fun in sounding smart all the time? "I think I'll stick with my 'bloody'. The Brits sure have it right; best cusses, low drinking age, sweet accents, the metric system." He laughed at this; he doubted Claire would care overly about the metric system, but Chris was somewhat serious; growing up in Canada, seeing everything in miles and inches and gallons and whatnot was a little disorienting.

And then he found himself struggling to maintain the smile that had previously been plastered to his face, and was now losing its grip. Claire's bluntness had taken its toll on him, even though he knew to expect such an answer. He was perfectly aware of the fact that those two boys were her life, and he was mostly mentally cursing himself for the error in judgment that had led to his last comment. But deeper down, there was a part of him that was jealous, and maybe even bitter because of, this connection she and the guys shared that she and he did not.

Even though his own thoughts and her following words served to reassure him, the smile on his face at that point was a frozen one, more of a mask than anything. He couldn't force that part of him to stop brooding, and he found himself suddenly hoping they would reach the bar soon, if only for the distraction from his thoughts it would offer.

Get a grip on yourself, seriously. You're not the only guy in her life, so what?

It's not that...

Okay, you're not even the most important guy in her life. Big deal. Suck it up. You're not even officially dating.

He suddenly felt a knot in his stomach forming at the thought of him not even taking the initiative to officially ask Claire out. He liked what they had; it was very comfortable, but a part of him was rationalizing, trying to convince him that if he were to actually ask her out, he would suddenly mean more to her than her friends. Which was, of course, absurd, but also a non-issue, because his previous burst of confidence had dried up; he wouldn't be asking her to make it official any time soon.

"So where is this place?"

[musk]

Claire laughed, and even though she would never admit it, she loved the way he complimented her. Chris bumped her hip and in retaliation she squeezed his side, still resting her arm around his waist lazily as they wandered through sleepy Masonville.

"We should probably run off to London then. I was sold at the low drinking age." She smiled, that usual, ear-to-ear grin that looked so natural that she might have been born wearing it. Claire had spent the last two years moving, jumping oceans to stay with her best friends, and now the idea of staying in one place too long was getting a bit tedious; especially when it was a place like this. The Midwest was probably the most terrible place, besides the South, she had decided, and already even the Jersey suburbs she had grown up in sounded more appealing.

"We're almost there, it's just- hey, what's up?" Claire had began to gesture up ahead of them, to indicate the restaurant they were headed to when she had turned her head to look at Chris and noticed the glow had faded from his face. With any other person, the girl probably wouldn't have caught anything considering her usual absentmindedness, but she had gotten quite good at reading Chris' face, especially because she knew there was enough he didn't ever come out and say.

Claire ceased walking, pulling her arm away from his waist so that she could stand in front of her friend, looking decidedly nervous as she tucked her hair away from her eyes and behind her pointed elf ears.

"Hey, is it what I said about the guys? You know I didn't mean to sound like such a bitch, I just- ugh, I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot."
Smiling in a way she hoped was apologetic, the brunette met his eyes, feeling like a total moron all of a sudden as she jerked her head toward the restaurant that stood just a few feet away, spilling over with activity.

"Come on, I'll buy you a root beer* before I beat your ass in that pool game."

[/li][li][/size]
[/color]

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

^{i think his favourite drinks are AJ, OJ, and eggnog :P}

Chris too had spent the last little while moving, though he didn't exactly do so by choice. He'd lived in his home town his whole life until the Academy found him and dragged him to England, and he'd just been getting used to things there when they'd up and moved the whole operation to the states. He'd like moving back to Canada the best, but even just going back to England would at least offer some sense of familiarity.

Chris nodded when Claire said they were close, but cut the gesture short when she interrupted herself to ask him what was up. For a moment he had no idea what she was talking about, such was his attention span, but when she began to explain herself he remembered instantly and grinned.

"I can't hide anything from you, eh?" he said, shades of 'impressed' and 'adoring' seeping into the comment. "Yeah, it's what you said about the guys, but I totally understand it anyway. You're just being honest and trust me, that's good. There's just..."

Contrary to the way Chris is written, he does not speak fluidly. Nearly every word is halting, and he still has traces of the slightest of slight lisps left over from speech therapy as a kid. Oftentimes he can't think of a word, and more commonly than not he has to pause to articulate properly, because his brain can't transform thoughts to words quick enough, and his mouth has trouble keeping up with even that halting pace. The point of all this being that though for the sake of readability, most of his pausing is left out, so when it's actually written into his speech, it goes to show he's having quite the hard time.

So it was with this. He had no idea how to form what he was thinking into words, at least not without sounding not at all the way he felt. But he knew he couldn't stand there all day thinking, so he did his best to formulate something.

"It's like there's a little... selfish voice in my head that's jealous of Theo and Connor, even though I know the way you feel makes perfect sense. And for some reason I can't shut it up. But really, it's fine. I'm fine. And you, are not an idiot."

He punctuated the sentence with a shiver large enough that it could nearly be classed as a convulsion. He wasn't cold, not yet, but it was like a warning that if they didn't get moving again soon, he would be chilly.

"And yes, let's get going. I'll become a chrisicle if we don't get moving again."

He grinned, and had to squash an urge to offer her a piggyback the rest of the way. It'd be fun and would keep him warm, but it would probably not be the best way to convince the patrons and employees of the bar that they were of age, if they ever needed to do so.

[musk]

"Of course not, you're too easy to read kid." Claire clicked her tongue, teasing him with the smallest expression of mirth as she bumped his shoulder with her own before jamming her hands back into the pockets of her jeans to keep the chill away. "Besides, I'm a telepath, remember?"

Not that she would ever seriously pry into Chris' thoughts, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to take the piss out of the poor boy and keep him on his toes. Besides, she would rather have him worrying about Claire hearing all the bizarre things he was probably thinking, then stressing over her stupid best friends or something else equally silly.

"Oh, I'm definitely an idiot, but it's alright because I'm adorable, yeah?" A laugh escaped her and as Chris suggested they hurry up and head inside, she had to nod in response. Even beneath his jacket, it was bloody cold out here. Looping her arm through his playfully, the brunette started toward the restaurant again, her friend in tow.

"You know, I spend more time with you then I do with them, right? So you've got no reason to be jealous." Claire winked, nudging him playfully again as she reached out to pull open the restaurant door. It was true that she had been seeing less of her best friends lately, probably because Connor had finally found a job and Claire was so busy with school, and while she missed her musketeers terribly, she would be lying if she didn't admit that Chris did a damn good job of filling that hole when they were together.

They stepped inside, and already Claire was fishing around in her pocket for enough quarters to pump into the pool table. It was a small building, with a bar attracting the usual flies on one end and a mass of little tables and booths in the middle. The other end of the restaurant housed four pool tables, two of them in use, and two vacant, ready for the taking.

"I'm thinking a burger sounds good." Never one to stop boasting, the girl flashed Chris a smile that was nothing short of devious as she headed toward the impressive billiard table, all swag and boyish confidence.