Room 505, Monday Late Morning

[thismaskiwear]

This was the first time since she'd gotten back from the trip, barring a furtive minute or two to drop off her bags, that Katchoo had set foot in her own damn room out of a notion that Francine needed some space after the whole kissing-and-then-freaking-out-and-fleeing incident from Saturday night. Francine always needed space after those incidents, and it made Katchoo want to beat her head into the wall a little that there had been enough incidents for her to see a pattern.

There was a certain farcical element to this, if you were far enough removed from the situation to see it from that angle, but at point-blank face-smooshed-up-against-the-problem range Katchoo was really only inclined to be frustrated, hurt, and pretty damned worn out from it all. Too damned worn out to keep giving space, actually, which didn't mean she wasn't relieved that the room was empty when she walked in and dropped to sit on the edge of her bed.

Clocky wheeled out from under her desk with a scolding beep-whir.

"Yeah. Missed you too," she told the clock, reaching down to give it a grudging pat.

[OOC: For that girl who also lives here and constantly has these Incidents with her. Look, don't blame us, blame the Cartoonist. HE IS WAY WORSE.]

Comments

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"I know. I know you. And I love you." The sound Katchoo made was suspiciously close to a sniffle. "I just want you to be sure. One way or the other, no matter what you choose, because it kills me to see you lost, Francie. And I can wait."

Just don't make me wait forever, was the unspoken plea.

[thatsamilkshake]

"So can I do this, while we're waiting?" Francine asked, tugging at Katchoo's hands until she could wrap her arms around her. "Because I'm pretty damn sure about this."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo's arms went around Francine in return. If it wasn't a rule of physics, it should be.

"Always," she got out in a hoarse half-whisper, because this was home, where she was now. This was familiar, finding solace in Francine's arms when she felt so damned broken. And sure, it'd be nice if she didn't have to be broken for this to happen, but still . . . home.

And whatever idiot had said you can't always go home again could bite her. Seriously.