don't be fooled by what you leave behind

[thefireofasaint]

So if, hypothetically, Helena and John were wandering the streets, occasionally subtly defacing public property with nearly hidden graffiti -- which of course they would not do because they are upstanding citizens and their parents and guardians respectively are government employees -- drawn with a sharpie, it only stands to reason that it would

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[igneus_aquaque]

Helena looks almost startled by this, like for an instant she's not sure where the hand came from and whether or not it belongs to anyone she actually wants to be touching her.

"Wh--oh. Okay, yeah." But she's obviously distracted, dropping his hand to pull her hood over her head, pulling into herself like a turtle. And she wasn't a big person to begin with, so like this she's approximately the size of three molecules. Two molecules of >:| and one molecule of ;_;.

[igneus_aquaque]

She pokes him in the side and laughs a little, quietly. He can still make her do that, and it's a good sign. "Liar."

[thefireofasaint]

"No I'm not." He grumbles more, incidentally totally lying but he knows she knows he knows, so it's one of those times when it's okay.

"Cause I guess I don't really have anything to say anyway."

Not strictly true, but those things can wait -- must wait, in fact, until temperaments and situations and stars align and it's okay to talk about them.

[igneus_aquaque]

"That's okay. We don't have to talk anyway." Which they don't, always, and is unexpected and occasionally very nice. Except now when she can hear the rain on the gazebo roof, and that's enough to make her hunch her shoulders a little. But just that.

Other than that, uh, it's still nice. Yes.