let's go out tonight; chris.

[musk]

With Chris' arms wrapped this way and that around her figure, Claire felt decidedly warm and safe, a sense of security that she was hardly used to washing over her at his presence, despite how truthfully, the stumbling mess they had suddenly become was surely anything but safe. It was that she squeezed his hand absentmindedly, feeling that perhaps it was such the thing to do in a moment like this.

"You know where we're going!" She answered, a little too excited and exasperated to sound anything like sober. Despite this, she had been about to answer the boy's question anyway when she was instead, hurriedly shuffled away from a puddle and right into Chris's cloud of exuberant laughter. The boy's giggles were as contagious as his smile and it only took a second before Claire was gasping for breath right beside him.

"Jesus!" Theo threw his hands up in the air, doing his best to look frustrated despite the cheerful expression that he couldn't shake for the life of him. "I'm never taking the two of you anywhere again, ever." His steps halted and he turned around, doubling back so he could give the pair of inebriated teenagers each a light kick in the behind, fighting his own drunken fit of laughter at both the act, and his desperate and silent prayers to keep from stumbling.

Claire yelped at her best friend's playful boot, nearly falling forward before she grabbed onto Chris even tighter, finally evening herself out in a full, upright position, her sleepy smile the perfect accessory.

"Let's get a move on! We're almost there and I'm hungry!" His voice was strained now, probably more tired than anything.

"You're always hungry, fat ass." Clasping a hand tightly over her mouth to halt another onslaught of giggles, Claire turned her attention to the dim road ahead, finally deciding it was time to pay some attention to their surroundings. She had to squeeze one eye closed to see straight, but eventually the scenery sharpened, and sure enough, just at the end of the block she could see her brother's tiny brown house tucked back behind it's overgrown ivy fence.

"Shit, we are almost there." Turning to her friends, Claire smiled deviously, looking first to her side at Chris, and then over her shoulder at Theo before suddenly yelling something that sounded remotely like 'race ya!' before bolting off down the road and toward her destination.

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

"You," Chris managed through the laughter, gesturing in whatever ways he could in Theo's direction, "crashed our date, mister. Didn't... bring us anywhere!" A thoughtful look came to his face before he went on. "Except here, I guess." He didn't even seem to notice the kick to the behind, he was too busy laughing to himself over the fact that Theo had brought them to 'drunk-town', and was convinced this was the funniest thing he'd heard in his entire life.

He struggled to walk still intertwined with Claire, and was going to add that he was hungry as well until he heard the reaction that got from Theo. He didn't particularly want to be called names, so he clammed up. However, his mind then proceeded to convince him that since he hadn't owned up to being hungry then, they wouldn't give him any food later, and his mind was suddenly, if briefly, filled with concern, until he finally blurted out, "I'm hungry too!" much to late for it to make any sense in context.

By this time, Claire has already begun to speak on the subject of their closeness, and Chris only just snapped out of his fit of the worries in time to see her take off down the street. Chris started moving, slowly, but the very moment she'd left, almost on instinct upon seeing her leave, and it wasn't until a moment later when he realized what she'd done that he actually started to run.

He was suddenly a world-class sprinter; something all his friends back home could attest to was that the boy seemed to run on pure adrenaline when there was alcohol in his system, climbing buildings one-handed without spilling his drink, sprinting around in flip-flops as if they were running shoes, and generally exhibiting unlimited amounts of energy. And tonight, with his inhibitions clouded, he didn't even stop to think it might be nice of him to let Claire win the race.

He caught up with her, slowing only to give her a peck on the cheek (which almost caused him to fall), and then took off ahead of her, across the neighbourhood's front lawns. He was far in the lead indeed when it hit him that he had no idea where he was going, and as he turned to yell back, "Which one's his?" he instead managed to trip himself, and he tumbled onto the grass in front of him, rolling a few times for good measure and coming out of it, once again, laughing.

He stayed in this exact position until the other two caught up with him, a silly grin plastered on his face.

"I fell," he stated with a laugh.

[musk]

Sober, the littlest Langden had more coordination problems than a newborn giraffe, and the half dozen Sidecar's she had tucked away in the bar hours earlier certainly weren't helping solve any of them. Her run was quick, but awkward at the same time, each step threatening to be the one to launch her face first into the dirt as Chris's footsteps suddenly began to gain on her. She would have started to curse him just then, if she hadn't been almost immediately silenced by the boy's surprise kiss as he flew by, resembling something like the the Road Runner right up until the moment he toppled into a heap in their neighbor's front lawn.

The brunette dove into a failed somersault somewhere near, beside and somehow on top of her friend their laughter loud enough to wake up the whole street and warm enough to melt snow. Her head landed in his lap at the end of it all and Theo – who had somehow managed to stay close to the two of them without ever picking his pace up past a drunken stroll – skipped right past the two intoxicated children and right up the steps to his home, only so he could touch the doorknob, smile back at the two over his shoulder and say, “I win.”

After a clumsy victory dance that had Claire practically in stitches as she sprawled across Mrs. Harris' front lawn, the oldest boy walked back down the porch and offered a hand up to both of his grounded comrades* so they could finally all head inside.

Claire threw open the front door without caution, smiling to herself at the familiar squeal of it's hinges as she stepped forward into the narrow hallway. The house smelled like leather and pot and acrylic paints, and from somewhere upstairs, Chuck Berry was playing harmoniously. They couldn't have lived their long, just shy of a few months, and yet still the house possessed a heavy, comforting feeling of being lived-in. Obviously, this trio wasted little time in getting comfortable.

Unpacked boxes and naked canvases' were piled high against the wall on either side of her and from above, the antique lamp flickered with warm yellow light. The hallway ended shortly, expanding into a wide living room with a low ceiling and a few curbside couches that were practically buried underneath army jackets and textbooks and discarded converse. There was a brick fireplace at the head of the room, but instead of a fire it housed more books and sketchpads and a gigantic jar full of buttons. A massive Jim Morrison tapestry was hung haphazardly over the mantle. Had they been using their fireplace for it's intended means, the rest of the room seemed like it would be one giant hazard

The walls, which had been painted an awkward shade of beige by the landlord, was cluttered with sporadic photographs and Polaroids, an eclectic mess that sprawled from the ceiling down to the scratched wooden molding. Most of the photos were of some combination of our Musketeers, back at home in New Jersey and fresh-faced in London; candids of Theo bar-tending back at Cloud 9 and black and whites of Connor strumming his bass guitar in the park lined the framework. There were studio shots of Theo and Claire, obviously done by Connor, and even a few Polaroids of Ringo, the Langdens old beagle stapled between a portrait of Adele and Shane, the parents they had hardly talked to since fleeing New Jersey over a year ago.

Off to the other side of the living room there was a treacherously steep staircase that lead upstairs, and a doorway into the kitchen, which was a complete train wreck of dirty dishes, empty vodka bottles and godawful 1960's paneling. Even the small, rounded dining table was buried beneath stifling papers, paintings and novels.

Standing in the doorway to the family room, Claire felt something electric surge through her as she gazed at the familiar photos on the wall. Those faces had surrounded her every day for the most important years of her life, and sometimes, the separation was a little more than overwhelming. However, as her brown eyes flickered over the pictures stuck on the wall, she suddenly felt secure, instead of homesick.

Turning around as Theo brushed past them and straight into the kitchen, Claire was jolted back to reality. She reached out and grabbed Chris' hand to pull him farther into the house, eager to show him around her sanctuary when there was the sudden sharp yet subtle clicking of a camera lens from somewhere above them. Tilting her head toward the noise, Claire's gaze locked with her brother's from his crouch at the top of the stairs, a familiar old camera hung around his neck on a worn leather strap. She blinked, dropping Chris' hand just as her brother snapped another photo of them before finally standing up.

“Snooks.” His smile was easy and gentle, like Theo's, but somehow different at the same time. There was a slightly shy touch to his actions, a personality quirk that echoed just as clearly on Claire's worst days. Connor began to descent the stairs, allowing the two students a better look at the most sensible of the Musketeers. Tall and thin with jet black curls and juvenile dimples, he bore a striking resemblance to the man who stood beside their mother in all the family photos.

The older brother was dressed in a green striped sweater and jeans marred by numerous tears and ink splatters. The heavy camera swung against his chest as he walked, barefoot, toward them. The siblings embraced, Claire's feet leaving the ground as her brother squeezed her generously before leaning back, holding her at arms length for a proper scrutinizing. “Geez sis, you smell like a bar.” But his eyes were heartened, the fondness he felt for his baby sister burning behind his smile as she merely shrugged in response, wiggling out of her brothers grasp so that she could push Chris between them.

“Brother, Chris, Chris, Brother.” She waved between them, pointing more at the wild piles of books and terrible wallpaper than her brother or best friend. In fact, she didn't even linger around long enough to see how the introduction would play out because Theo had just reappeared from the kitchen with a handful of beers and his usual mischievous smile, some of her favorite things.

* i promise the the musketeers are not commies.
and i'm sorry this post sucks sucks sucks ;_;

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

_{i have nothing, actually, against commies. i just think the implementation of the communist government form is, and always has been, deeply flawed. i'm an idealist communist at heart; it comes from being a giver :P}

Chris accepted the help from Theo once his laughing fit with Claire had ceased, and once on his feet he proceeded to do something resembling the twist on speed to try and shake the debris he'd gathered from the ground off of himself. Once satisfied (though still not quite clean), he attempted to grasp the now-standing Claire's hand, but found his depth perception to be somewhat lacking. His feet moved with the others' automatically, and by the time he figured out that the cause of the missing perception was that he had one eye closed, they had already reached the house.

He stood for a moment in the doorway, feeling something akin to trepidation pertaining to the idea of crossing the threshold. His eyes quickly informed him that this was a space he was seeing - a strange space, a new space, an overwhelming space, and (at least in his opinion) and inherently private space. To enter would be to trespass, and on top of that he felt somehow as though two years of black and white photography in high school and some natural talent he was too lazy to capitalize on didn't pronounce him 'artsy' enough to fit in with the surroundings.

However, Claire's grasp decided for him, and he dove in head-first. Nearly literally, so taken off-guard was he. And the picture certainly didn't help. Chris and pictures had a strange relationship. He only liked them being taken if he knew he could see them right away, and delete them if they were no good, but at the same time, he never took a good picture if he knew it was coming. This would normally dictate that the pictures just snapped would be decent at the least, but there was also the fact that he was stumbling around inebriated to contend with.

All of this was forgotten, though, when he realized it was the mythical beast Connorus taking the picture. Or so he saw it. Frankly, meeting Theo going so well had probably been a fluke. Chris was terrible with introductions, and perhaps slightly worse with getting to know people. As soon as he did, he was great fun, but until that point was magically reached, he would be a bucket of awkwardness. He more or less froze as he was thrust unceremoniously into the act of meeting, though he both managed to hide what was probably real fright and mutter, "Hi Brother," something he would have immediately regretted had his mind not been so soggy with fermented this-and-that.

_{short-ish, i know, but I didn't have the luxury of explaining the surroundings, haha ;)}

[musk]

Connor had once been an embarrassing pile of awkward and geeky teenager, too engrossed in his art and pyromaniac adventures to care about Aéropostale or the fact that he wasn't supposed to look at his shoes whenever someone was speaking to him. He didn't care about girls or school or his paralyzing fear of large groups of people - until he met Theo. Still, the oldest Langden generally preferred a night in with an old movie to Theo and Claire's wild adventures on the town, and he still fell totally mute around the right kind of girl.

It was that sort of unconquerable shyness, that slight fidget in Chris' eyes that made Connor smile, because he knew it so well from not only his own gaze, but from Claire's as well. The tall boy stuck out his hand, chuckling as the younger referred to him as brother.

"It's nice to finally meet you," his greeting echoed Theo's from earlier in the bar.
So far, so good.

"Oh goddamnit!" Claire's voice cut through the air suddenly, and while there was a laugh in her voice, there was a scowl on her face, "you did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Why would I do something like that?" Theodore's voice answered her, and the shock in his voice was cruel.

"Because you're an asshole." Claire replied without missing a beat, looking down at her front with a pout. The poor girl was wearing the beer Theo had handed her just moments before. Obviously, the brunette's beer had been seriously shaken up before being handed over - a cruel, but all too familiar trick. Sighing loudly, she unbuttoned her vest, tossing it on the couch before punching her friend in the rib.

"Oh! That tickles" The boy smirked with a touch of a slur, rubbing his side playfully before looking pointedly over at Chris. "So, new kid. What's for dinner?"

Connor threw a pillow at his best friend, which caused Claire to dissolve into giggles and snorts while Theo merely shot his roommate the finger. "I'll make mac n' cheese if you two promise not to put glue in it this time." Immediately the three friends let out a small laugh at the memory of a trashed Theo and Claire pouring Elmer's into their friends Easy Mac years ago.

"Mac and Cheese!" Claire jumped up, practically out of her shoes as Connor made his way toward the doorway the segued into the kitchen. She gave him a playful shove in the right direction before looking back to Chris with a smile brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Whaddya wanna do now?"

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

"Yeah, you too," said Chris, running more or less on autopilot with regards to the response. He very likely would have said it even if it weren't true, but that wasn't to say he didn't mean it in this case. He threw on a little, "I like your camera," for good measure, trying, in his own inebriated way, to throw a little personality into his petrified conversing.

Luckily, he was saved by the belle, and spared from further awkwardness. For the time being, anyway.

He felt like he should probably do something about Claire being spilled-on, but did they all have to move so fast? He watched the whole thing play out, but by the time he had decided what to do, Claire was already looking back at him from the doorway and asking him what he wanted to do.

His mind told him to at least offer to help make food, but his body rebelled, and when he tried to put it in its place, it sent a wave of nausea over him. So he ceded, and sat his butt on the couch just after saying brightly to Claire, "I think I should sit down, actually."

He wasn't sick, or at least not from the booze; he was just a little overwhelmed by the whole experience. He felt like an uncultured bum being thrust into some sort of intricate, high-class dance that went way over his head. Everything around him felt so good and so right and so fun, but he hadn't the slightest idea what his role was in all of it.

I'm the fourth wheel, he thought, before hazily realizing how little sense that made, and how badly it explained how he felt.

I'm the... fourth musketeer, he eventually settled on, or I should be, anyway, but I'm not doing a very good job of it.

He glanced over at Theo, a strange look on his face, and said nothing. He was doing a splendid job of not being a weirdo.

[musk]

Claire's brown eyes, which were wide and watered but faultlessly warm, were focused squarely on Chris for a long moment, even when Theo paused halfway through his journey into the kitchen - probably to gossip with Connor - to pinch her arms insistently

But Claire wasn't really thinking about any of that, except for the boy in front of her and how much she would really like to sit beside him. He looked tired, and a little lost, but even so, she found his hesitance so fiercely charming that her stomach flipped a little.

"Let's watch a movie?" She was speaking without really thinking about it, ignoring the way Theo and Connor were already talking about her just five feet away and how suddenly she felt a little lightheaded at the idea of something she couldn't really bring herself to explain.

Claire finally put her feet in motion, walking over to the gigantic and well beyond antique television that sat on a shaky file cabinet beside the fireplace. Rifling through the drawers before her, Claire finally seemed to land on something watchable, extracting a DVD from the cabinet and popping it into the player, all the while doing her best to shield the cover from her friend. She liked making her movie picks a surprise up until the moment the title came across the screen.

After pushing all the necessary buttons, the brunette stood up only to fall back on the couch, just a throw pillow away from Chris. Her eyes lingered on the screen for a minute, but it wasn't long before her attention was wandering and finally, she took a small, but important leap.

Scooting over to eliminate the space that remained to separate them, Claire kicked off her Converse and curled her legs onto the couch before snuggling up to Chris, never bothering to ask for permission as she laid her head on his chest. She was too busy thinking about how good he smelt to wonder if the poor boy might of have different thoughts about snuggling up with his drunk friend - especially while her unfamiliar older brother was just a few feet away. Frankly, she didn't really care either way because as soon as she pulled Chris' arm around her shoulders, something felt right, and for the first time in a long time she didn't have any questions and her smile bloomed brighter than it had in weeks.

Random thoughts for Valentine's Day, 2004. Today is a holiday invented by greeting card companies.. to make people feel like crap."

[Ϛ Christopher Nightingale]

Chris noted (at first just by the strange feeling that there was a presence in the room besides himself, and then, when he swiveled his head toward the exit, by the fact that she was staring at him) that Claire had not quite left the room, and a small smile spread across his previously distracted face.

He was just about to ask, in the sly manner of one being stared at that doesn't so much mind it, "What?" when Claire broke the silence herself.

"Sure!" said Chris, a bigger smile coming unbidden. One thing you quickly learned about Chris was that he nearly always was up for a movie, unless you popped a 'horror' on him, or one he had seen many times and didn't enjoy.

Chris watched with interest as his companion made with the sneaky insertion of the video into player territory. He was intrigued, and he knew Claire knew he would be. It was his nature to be incessantly curious, and it was Claire's to take advantage of that at every opportunity possible. Not in any cruel sort of manner, of course, but at times it was enough to make Chris squirm. He wasn't complaining, though.

He studied the previews as they came and went, trying to gather some clue from them and only managing to discover that the movie was somewhat old, but not by a long period of time. His attention, however, was completely lost when Claire joined him, and then joined him in a big way.

He didn't object in the slightest, and probably couldn't have brought himself to even if his lingering drunken haze, not quite beat out by the adrenaline, hadn't caused the fact that there were others in the vicinity to slip his mind. It did cause him to entirely forget the movie, though, and he missed the opening credits in favour of staring down the top of Claire's head with a smile of ludicrous warmth on his face.

His arm, pulled into a position where he felt it rightly belonged, guided his hand to one of Claire's, and his thumb breezed here and there across the back of it while his fingers gently clasped the rest. The feeling welling up inside him refused to subside, and for that he was glad, because he couldn't recall ever being happier.

He might have stayed in this trance-like position all night had the monologue issuing from the screen not snapped him out of it and into another kind of happiness entirely. His hand switched to lightly squeezing hers and his face lit up as he recognized instantly the movie that she had picked out. There may even have been a small, girly squeaking noise, though this hypothetical sound would have been very difficult to make out.

"Eternal... bleh!" he said, trying and failing to get the wordy title out in his excited state. "Awesome!"

Acting more out of happy agitation than anything, he brought Claire's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it expressly before returning it to its original place and giving the TV the staredown.