Will was sitting outside the treehouse in the shade of a nearby tree. Kirjava was curled up beside him, purring, while he read a book for his Comparative Religion class. Needless to say he had a little different outlook on things than the author of the book, and some of it made him roll his eyes, but he kept reading. He had come to realise that you could learn a lot from something even if you didn't agree with it.
Kirjava saw Lyra and Pan before Will did, and she yawned, stretched, swiped a paw over her face, and trotted over to meet them. Will's heart felt painfully tight, watching the way she moved in that floaty dress with her long legs beneath it, though it was hard for him to let go of the stubbornness he was clinging to--that he had been clinging to for months. Why was he still holding on to it? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't sure how to let go of it, either.
"Hey," he said, but his voice came out squeaky and stupid, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Hi."
"If you say so," he replied, though now he was thinking that he might surprise her with a date at some point, if he could even think of anything that might resemble a date in any way.
His algebra book slid to the ground with a soft thump, forgotten, as he tentatively pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead. It had been a long time since he'd held her like this, and part of him felt awkward in his own skin beside her.
Lyra warmed; it had indeed been a while but time had done nothing to diminish the feelings she felt whenever Will did that sort of thing to her. Ignoring the fallen book - her own remained precariously balanced on her lap, ready to join Will's on the ground at a moment's notice - she drew back just enough to have a proper look at him.
"Let's go walk somewhere," she suddenly decided. "Algebra can wait."
Kirjava saw Lyra and Pan before Will did, and she yawned, stretched, swiped a paw over her face, and trotted over to meet them. Will's heart felt painfully tight, watching the way she moved in that floaty dress with her long legs beneath it, though it was hard for him to let go of the stubbornness he was clinging to--that he had been clinging to for months. Why was he still holding on to it? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't sure how to let go of it, either.
"Hey," he said, but his voice came out squeaky and stupid, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Hi."
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His algebra book slid to the ground with a soft thump, forgotten, as he tentatively pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead. It had been a long time since he'd held her like this, and part of him felt awkward in his own skin beside her.
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"Let's go walk somewhere," she suddenly decided. "Algebra can wait."
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