projectroxas | (no subject)

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[ having decided that meeting anthony half-way would be best for this particular... conversation, he walks a bit slowly, quite aware that his dorm was closer to the school than his friend-slash-goalie's house. (that and he would probably have to struggle with his mode of transportation for a while.) so instead of the usual ten minutes it takes him to arrive to this particular destination, he gives himself thirty, casually making his way to one of the benches underneath a tree.

takes a seat, pulls out his cellphone, then begins to check his messages as he waits; it would be at least another fifteen minute wait, one he was finally willing to be patient for. after all, he wasn't expecting much, anyway. when it came to feelings, expectations were the worst things to have, or so he had logically deducted throughout his childhood. besides, it wouldn't be the end of the world if anything negative happened. this was anthony, after all, the boy who clucked and bawked louder than he spoke or made any semblance of sense with his words.

... it almost made him second-guess himself. almost.

pockets his phone and tilts his head backwards instead, letting it rest against the top of the bench. just simply stares up into the branches and leaves of the tree, allowing himself to show a rare display of being lost in some non-thoughts for the time being. ]

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Am I late?!

[ stares. stares some more. ]

Pardon?

Am I late!

For what, exactly? I am not a mind reader, Anthony, you will have to be a little more specific.

The, the, the. [ snaps his mouth shut for a moment so that he can take a deep breath. ]

The. . . feelings and. Such. Confession?

[ blinks, taken by surprise. ]

Not at all. Why would you think so?

You didn't. . . uh, well, everything kinda. Fell. Into normal. Sort of.

[ quickly sips at his smoothie before his speech further deteriorates. ]

Of course it did. I agreed to wait, didn't I? Pushing and questioning you constantly was not on the agenda, nor will it ever be.

[ ... made sense. ]

. . . Oh. [ takes a deep breath. ] That's. . . what was on my mind. Today. During the game.

[ another pause. then, much more quietly: ]

Answer's 'yes', by the way.

[ there's a long pause before he smiles, though it's short and reserved. but it's still a smile, nonetheless. ]

I see. [ breathes out through his nose, mostly out of amusement. ] That's what's been bothering you?

[ startles at the smile, a smile of his own twitching at his lips in response before he concentrates on the words. ]

It was a legitimate worry.

[ goes back to baseline himself, looking away in (mock) thought. ]

Perhaps I should reconsider. It seems as if you don't know me well enough.

[ reaches out for his hand, grabbing for it. ]

Don't. Uh. I'll learn.

[ allows the contact, glancing at their hands. there's another (tiny, almost unnoticeable) smile, turning his hand upward so their palms are touching. ]

I believe it is your jokedar that is broken. [ curls his fingers slightly. ] But I know you will.

[ hangs onto the hand firmly, but not tightly, content with the simple contact. ]

It's just a minor hiccup. It'll go back to normal tomorrow.

[ relaxes back into his seat, not moving the hand. ]

As will your performance on the field, I take it?

[ holds up his other arm, flexing it for show. ]

Best meatshield ever. Aye aye, captain.

[ skips a little happily towards the table she had left her brother and anthony at, mindful of the plates in hand. when she stops in front of them she opens her mouth to speak-- ]

...

[ ... ?

~~brain breaks.~~ seems to be frozen in place at the sight. doesn't say anything, just. stands there quietly. ]

[ eventually notices anne standing there, raising his eyes from the table.

...

... gapes at her a bit. then stutters out: ]

M-M-Marsh-- Anne! Hi!

[ still this face. after a moment: ]

... I brought you your food.

[ slowly, carefully sets it down between them. mechanically steps back a few steps. ] Enjoy your meal. [ ... and then turns and walks away. ]

[ sighs a little, removing his hand from anthony's so he can stand. ]

I will go talk to her. [ inclines his head towards the food. ] You may begin eating, if you wish.

[ stares down at his food & nods slowly before squeaking out: ]

S'okay. I'll wait.

[ reaches out to pat his shoulder twice when he passes him by, wandering off to find anne.

the conversation isn't too long despite going into great detail. tells her everything, just so she can paint the entire picture in her head, saying no, he's not sick, and no, nobody is dying. so with a promise to speak on this more later (he should tell his parents as well, in due time; tells her such, receiving a small nod from anne in agreement) he leaves, taking his seat across from anthony again. ]

All seems to be fine. [ takes the napkin on the table and places it on his lap. picks up his fork, looking up at anthony. ] Shall we, then?

[ kicks at his foot lightly. ]

Wait-- she's. Really okay? With this?

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