Thread:RedJevil/@comment-26234016-20181208225334/@comment-37468018-20181209013738

An orange streetlight through a window, seen by a person cozy in their room. Perhaps it was the rain, or maybe her lack of focus. The usual abrasive yellow was now orange, the usual scratchy chair was now cozy. Maybe she was getting soft.

"I don't dream, I discover... no, I dance. You should try it,"

She gazed at the window, fogging slightly with each tap. What had he meant? 'Don't dream' as in 'don't hope'? She had seen him before, ambition in his eyes and spring in his steps. He had something he was aiming for. Motivation. Dreams.

Discover? Now, what had that meant? Did he try new things? No, she had seen him, he was almost hysterically afraid of change. Always hated new haircuts, new shoes, even when his fingernails were cut he had a scowl on his face. If anything, she should be telling him!

But... Dance. That she understood. He was a child at heart, he had joy in his voice and energy in his breath, everything he did was ernest and true, with passion and grit. Happiness.

Is that what he meant? But Why? Was he trying to tell her that she was a fun killer? It wouldn't be the first, and certainly not the last. He wasn't like that though. He didn't insult people. Maybe he did, but he did it in such cryptic ways like this where they wonder if it was an insult at all. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the phone ring. It was off silent, because of this morning, but even with the alarm blaring she could barely hear it until it vibrated so hard it fell into her lap.

"Uh, yes, hi, this is Emma"

"Hey, it's Chris,"

"Oh! Chris, what is it?" She thanked the lord for this not being in person she would look like a deer in the headlights but also be red as fire blushing.

"Wanna go out on Friday?"

"Of course!" She sounded too happy. Whatever. Who cares what I thought.