Youth isn't so great [for dl_greenarrow]

[furtum_est_vita]

Bela paced around the cafe bathroom, one hand holding her jacket closed over her chest, the other periodically making sure her slacks didn't slip off her now much narrower hips. She paused in front of the mirror. She looked pale and frightened

Comments

[dl_greenarrow]

He chuckled at the indignation in her voice. "Whatever you say."

[furtum_est_vita]

After a pause that was probably longer than it should have been. "And I'm not immature, either."

[dl_greenarrow]

He was glad they were almost back to the clocktower because he had a feeling if he laughed now, he wouldn't be stopping.

[furtum_est_vita]

She made a face at him. "At least I have an excuse." She pointed out.

[dl_greenarrow]

"Wait. Are you calling me immature?"

[furtum_est_vita]

"Am I wrong?"

[dl_greenarrow]

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

[furtum_est_vita]

"Prove it."

[dl_greenarrow]

That earned her an eyebrow arch. "How do you suggest I do that?"

[furtum_est_vita]

"That's easy. Be the model picture of maturity. Which conveniently would include you not picking on poor distraught teenagers with milkshakes sitting in your car."

[dl_greenarrow]

"Hah. But that's what older brothers are for," he responded with a grin.

[furtum_est_vita]

She grinned back. "I guess I can accept that as your excuse."

[dl_greenarrow]

His grin brightened. "My logic never fails."

[furtum_est_vita]

"So by your logic, I get a piggyback, right?"

[dl_greenarrow]

"I think I can handle that," he teased.

[furtum_est_vita]

"Brilliant."