a n y w h e r e but here --- [aren]

[EMMETT HIKARU NAKAMURA]

Dances. The bane of Emmett’s existence. The annoyingly loud shitty music, the equally annoying attendees, and the need to socialize—which Emmett could do without, honestly. The only reason he was here was because with him now being in his last year of high school, he thought it’d be fitting if he changed a bit of himself. You know, get a taste of what he’s been missing? But now Emmett was standing here, against the wall, watching idiots grind against each other like they were having sex doggy style with clothes on. He cringed. Why teenagers felt the need to do that, he didn’t know, so wandered off from the dance floor (like he had any intentions of actually dancing) and stayed near the refreshments. Emmett was just glad his phobia wasn’t acting up—he was increasingly getting better at controlling it. As long as he didn’t lost in one or stare at it for too long, he’d be fine. No panic attacks and hard breathing for Emmett tonight.

Sighing, he took a long drink from his cup, crushing it in his hand once he was done. He was only here a few minutes and Emmett was already bored. He came an hour late because he expected at least some familiar faces to show up but there was no one he actually talked to. Granted, he didn’t talk to a lot of people, but he at least expected one familiar face. Like Kai, for instance. The Wind was sociable; he would’ve gone, right? Maybe Emmett should’ve dragged him along so it would be somewhat bearable. People bumping into him (most likely drunk) made him more irritated than he should be and he was already getting a huge headache from the obnoxious music that professed its love for money and sex—he needed to calm down, or get out of there. Something. Or he was going to do something stupid and ruin his “experience” of his last prom as a high schooler. In fact, he was quite happy about that fact. Move onto college and hope that some of these idiots didn’t make it because they were idiots.

After contemplating for a moment or two, Emmett finally decided to leave. The problem was, it was a lot more crowded than he expected it to be, and he had to push through couples and crowds of guffawing hyenas to at least be within 30 feet of the doors. Needless to say this gesture wasn’t taken very well—whose bright idea was to stick all the elementals in one room anyways?—and he was soon being confronted by a who-knows-what with his who-knows-what-whore. Just what he needed. Emmett was irritated enough as it was; it really wasn’t a smart idea to try to confront him when he was like this, not if you wanted a death wish. Luckily a teacher passed by and they backed off, but Emmett’s irritation just grew. It probably would’ve been nice to punch him in the face, but he was slightly glad. He needed to get out of there; it felt like the walls were closing in on him.

He was just about to reach the doors when he accidentally ran into someone—Emmett clearly wasn’t looking where he was going; or rather, he was, he just didn’t see the person he ran into. Literally. He looked down in slight surprise, raising an eyebrow in amusement. The girl was like, 5 feet clean. She barely cleared his shoulder, no wonder Emmett didn’t see her. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he was pretty sure he didn’t sound like he was sorry. Quite frankly, he wasn’t.

[AREN NOVA KAEL]

a n y w h e r e - b u t - h e r e ! [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

[th] [bg=000000][atrb=border,0,true]

tag ! virginie && emmy ;; word count ! 741 ;; setting ! Academy Dance ( “Prom” ) ;; outfit ! click for his dress, matching flats, hair in a bun ;; [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

Aren had come to the dance with a date. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been allowed in. He was too young. Of course, he could have waited until next year’s dance, next December, when he was old enough to come alone. But someone had asked him this year, and that someone was old enough to go, so why shouldn’t he? Honestly, part of him had been extraordinarily nervous about going on a date with his friend, but it had turned out being not too bad at first. Anxiety had become excitement as the date, in both meanings of the word, had drawn closer. He’d found a dress. Not just any dress, but one that made him really happy—floor length, a wonderful shade of deep blue, with this funny cape-like thing over the one arm, structured so it fit fairly well even with his figure, which lacked something very obvious. His date had even brought him a corsage and walked him into the decorated building and danced with him. Then, Aren had to go to the bathroom, and upon his return, he’d found his date grinding on someone else, a girl with a rack Aren definitely couldn’t compete with and enough make-up for a clown to use multiple times. He didn’t know why that had made him want to cry. At first, he’d been frozen in the doorway, watching the two, grinding, laughing, and then he hadn’t been able to look at them anymore. He had turned away. He had grabbed a cup of punch so he wouldn’t have to look. He’d thrown the corsage in the trash and confined himself to a corner just outside the entrance and tried not to cry, tried not to think about what was going on in there. He hugged himself, arms around the slim waist of his blue dress, and almost regretted coming. Almost. He could hear the music, could feel the heavy bass pounding into his heart and seeming to change the rhythm of it to match the beat through the wall. The auto-tune… the techy beats… they made him miss his piano. He hadn’t played in too long. He really needed to see if the music room had a piano he could play sometime, just for practice. He practiced enough in regard to the sewing when he changed the hem on his skirts, as he had with this one so it wouldn’t drag on the floor too much. Being short really sucked sometimes. Such as when he turned to go back into the room and someone ran into him, making him spill his drink all over the front of his dress. He looked down at the start of the purple stain that covered him from chest to stomach. His eyes watered. Great. Just great. Now, his dressed ruined, his date was grinding on some other girl, and he was about to cry in front of a complete stranger. He looked up at the apology, barely caring that it definitely wasn’t genuine. One of the tears leaked out. At least he had no mascara that might run. Maybe that was why his date had completely forgotten about him. He didn’t wear enough make-up. He didn’t have boobs. He rubbed at his eyes as more tears slid forth. “It’s fine,” he mumbled, just as insincere as the stranger had been, and turned around to leave again. Maybe he should just go home. He’d ask his dad to send the dress to the dry cleaners’. Maybe they could get the stain out. Should he try to clean off the fabric first? He didn’t know. But it was worth a try. Right. So. Bathroom. God, he hoped there was no one there, trying to use the bathrooms, someone who would see him… Maybe he should just go to a water fountain. He could use the water and… tissues? Maybe he could go to the medical wing and grab a towel or something. And as he tried to figure this out, he found himself in the hallway, just outside the door, the empty cup still in his hand, tears still running down his face. God, why was he crying? He didn’t want to cry. It was stupid to cry. Crying wouldn’t help anything. Crying wouldn’t get his date back (because he honestly didn’t want the guy back anyway). Crying wouldn’t fix his dress. Crying wouldn’t make him stop crying. It was just completely stupid.

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notes ! yay, Aren post ;;

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[EMMETT HIKARU NAKAMURA]

Normally, Emmett was good with emotions. His own, and others as well. He wasn't quick to anger, depression, happiness, nor panic. He was generally a calm person--of course, with an edge of irritation, but nonetheless calm. He was indifferent. All the situations he's faced thus far proved that most things didn't affect him nor did he care for them. Emmett's faced a hoard of angry Fires, pacifistic Earths trying to make peace for whatever reason, and extremely annoying Waters who liked playing pranks on him. He handled them well. Hell, he once thought he could handle any situation thrown at him. Emmett could deal with them.

Of course, there were exceptions.

Like now, with him standing here just feet away from the exit, was a 5 feet girl, a spreading stain on her dress, and tears streaming down her face. Panic? Understatement. All Emmett did was bump into her--now she was crying. Not in a million years did he think he had to deal with a girl's tears, especially since he was the cause of it. At least, he thought it was. Emmett did sound a bit insincere with his apology, but he only ran into someone! Can you blame him? She was barely in his peripheral vision. Besides, he was already annoyed as it was. She was lucky she got an apology in the first place, especially since he rarely ever gave out apologies. Emmett didn't think they were necessary--but looking at her now, rubbing the tears from her eyes in a way that reminded him of a child, Emmett kind of bad. Scratch that--he felt horrible. Kind of like an evil villain who stole a child's candy.

He took a small step forward, his arm slightly outstretched--to do what? He didn't know. So why was he doing it? It was too late anyways. She turned away from him, the tears disappearing from his sight as fast as they came. Emmett blinked and dropped his hand, shoving it into his pocket. "Well, geez," he mumbled to himself. Half of him was telling him to forget about it and leave--and he was just about to do that, until he found the girl again standing alone near the door. Emmett stopped and contemplated his options. One, he could ignore his barely-there-conscience and just leave and go to sleep. Second, he could go back into the dance and try to enjoy himself (which was highly unlikely, so he immediately scratched out that option). And lastly, not be a dick for once and suck up his pride. Apologize for once. Sincerely. He didn't know who the girl was, nor why she cried. Emmett just knew he probably ruined a night. Normally, that wouldn't have bothered him. He also wouldn't have been bothered to even think about this for as long as he had. Just leave and not get involved. It wasn't his fault. That was his policy.

Closing his eyes, he took a long dragged out sigh grabbing a few napkins from a table near the door. "Why..." Emmett mumbled as he found himself walking again until he was right behind her, shedding his jacket and plopping it onto her shoulders. "Sorry," he apologized again, taking another step to face the nameless girl. "You weren't in my field of vision." Okay. Maybe that wasn't the best apology, but it was progress for someone like Emmett. He wasn't an emotional person. He didn't talk much, either. Put them together and they weren't good for apologies. That didn't mean Emmett was completely heartless--just that he'd rather do without them. Besides, he was a lot better with showing than actually telling.

Dropping down onto his knees, he shuffled around in his pocket for the napkins he grabbed earlier and started dabbing gently at the spreading stain. It wouldn't take out the stain, but at least it would get rid of any excess punch. Emmett glanced briefly up at the girl's face, trying to gauge any reaction from her, then focused on his hands. "You shouldn't cry, you know," he said softly as he tossed a soggy napkin over his shoulder. "It ruins the smile."

[AREN NOVA KAEL]

a n y w h e r e - b u t - h e r e ! [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

[th][bg=000000][atrb=border,0,true]

tag ! virginie && emmy ;; word count ! 9 0 2 ;; setting ! Academy Dance ( “Prom” ) ;; outfit ! click for his dress + stain, matching flats, hair in a bun ;; [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

He was overreacting. He was very well aware that he was overreacting. It unnerved him, too. He shouldn’t have reacted as he had, but he supposed the whole evening had been wearing on his nerves and now he was sort of helpless as his whole state crumbled to pieces like a slice of old cake. He was trying to pull himself together again, but slices of cake like that just didn’t go back together. It was stupid but it was true. All those little things had just torn down his walls, which he supposed were weaker than they usually were for absolutely no reason. He kept rubbing at his eyes, trying to banish the tears, but they just kept flowing, running down his cheeks, leaving wet trails on his skin, which had started turning red from both the rubbing and the crying itself. Usually, he was stable. Usually, he didn’t fall apart like this, and he really hated that he was. And then, suddenly, something warm descended onto his shoulders. He froze, head jerking up just as the same boy from before—the boy he’d run into near the entrance of the dance, causing him to spill on his dress. His left hand reached up, curling around the collar of the jacket and pulling it a little closer. He hadn’t realized how chilly it was until now. He swallowed, watching him, listening. The new apology seemed much more genuine, but Aren had to wonder through the remaining tears whether the boy had simply practiced it to come back and rip him to even smaller shreds. He swallowed the hurt pride nonetheless and didn’t comment, try to swipe away the growing paranoia. He had no reason to be paranoid. His date was a one-time mistake. Not everyone was like that. This boy was probably a really nice guy. Unlike his date. Well, ex-date. Whatever there had been, was gone now. He jumped when the boy was absent from his view, and looked down, blinking at the mob of black hair that was suddenly more at his chest, level with the stain that had formed on his dress. He noticed the napkins only a moment afterward, and it took him another moment to realize that the stranger was trying to clean him. It confused him. He didn’t have to do that. It was incredibly sweet of him. Unnecessary, but sweet. Kind. And Aren really wanted to give the stranger a hug right now. It was amazing what the little things could do to a person. Like smiling at a stranger, as Aren liked to do sometimes. And how silly it was that something like that could so easily be forgotten when you were upset—and somehow so easy to remember. He ran a hand up into his hair, pulling a few strings free from his bun. The stranger glanced up at him, their eyes met for a split second, and Aren felt the roses creep up his neck into his cheeks in a hot blush. He wasn’t sure why he was blushing now either. It didn’t really make sense. He didn’t know this guy. The guy wasn’t even looking at him anymore, but downwards, where the napkin had turned a faded red from being dabbed against the soaked dress. The napkin flew over his shoulder, accompanied by a suggestion that confused him for a minute. He was still processing the first sentence when the boy continued with another, one that he felt was meant to make him smile. It succeeded in doing so, lips splitting over his teeth at the compliment and widening. He knew that the boy hadn’t seen him smile before, so he couldn’t help but think that the boy was just trying to cheer him with saying so, but he appreciated it immensely. He bit his bottom lip, still smiling and feeling goofy for doing so. Was he bipolar? Or did something else better explain the sudden mood swings he was having this evening? He ran a hand up to his cheek, feeling the warm beneath his palm, one that matched that around his shoulders, somehow still emanating from the stranger’s jacket. Because he didn’t know what else to say for a long minute, he simply said what he was thinking, “You haven’t even seen my smile,” and hoped it wasn’t too tactless to be saying. He was still smiling, though. He couldn’t stop. Hoping that it would continue the conversation and not scare off the stranger, he wiped at his eyes again with both hands, trying to get the trails from the tears and any leftover tears away from his face and hopefully away from the memory of the moment. Then, he crouched and tried to pull the boy up again, and offered his hand. “I’m Aren, by the way.” An introduction was a good way to keep talking, right? Right? Hopefully the boy would give his. “And… thanks… for cleaning up my dress.” The napkin thing had barely occurred to him. And it was honestly appreciated that he had tried, even if the dress was probably ruined. The only way for it to be fixed that he could think of was to dye the whole thing a color dark enough to obscure the purple stain from the red juice toppling onto the blue fabric. He could only hope that his dad would get too mad about it.

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notes ! I promised I would post and so I have I really hope this post makes sense, too~ ;;

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[EMMETT HIKARU NAKAMURA]

Emmett really needed to think things through before he got himself into shit he knew he wouldn’t be able to go through with. And the strange thing was; he did. Always did. Made sure to calculate the opportunity costs, the benefits, and so on. He stared intently at the girl’s back, faintly wondering what the opportunities costs would be. If he left and went back to his dorm (something that would benefit him), he’d lose sleep thinking he made someone cry that night (something that would cost him). And because he would lose sleep, he’d wake up annoyed and irritated, something that was bad for everyone. Therefore, the cost would outweigh the benefit, and he should go comfort her despite being uncomfortable in this situation. Emmett learned that stuff in Economics, and strangely, he did find it relevant to his life, unlike all the other school subjects that were useless after a year of being taught. They were all a waste of time, like this was. At least, he thought. He didn’t even know the girl and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

All he did was watch the girl’s face; the tear-stained cheeks, the flush of pink, and the big, round eyes that stared up at him as he apologized. Emmett shifted uncomfortably in his spot, staring back at her as he tried to swallow his own pride by apologizing to her. He tried his hardest to adjust his tone of voice so it didn’t seem like he was a total asshole who wanted to mock the girl from crying—Emmett was being the complete opposite, at least he hoped. It wasn’t everyday where he tried to practice that skill, and so he reached out, adjusting his jacket on her to fit her snuggly. Emmett noticed the all-too-big fit of his jacket against her small frame and it was really then where he realized how absolutely short she was. Or maybe he was too tall to judge correctly, but he was pretty sure that she was below average height. It wasn’t his fault that he bumped into her but he wasn’t about to say that aloud with the risk that she’d start crying again. Emmett was being an awkward turtle enough as it is.

The silence did unsettle him a bit. What was she even thinking? It took him a second to realize he was at chest level after all. He was only cleaning her up, he swore! In the back of Emmett’s mind he was almost prepared for a slap on the cheek until he looked up at her again, double-taking as he saw the flush of her cheeks again. It kind of resembled the color of the punch against the white napkin he was holding. It was subtle in the dim lighting, probably only enough for someone as close as Emmett was to see it. The color captivated him for a small moment. Was he the one who caused that? Or was it just the amount of crying she’d done? He furrowed his eyebrows, snapping out of it as soon as he realized he was staring for too long, and continued dabbing at the purple stain. Suddenly it felt as if Emmett never concentrated this hard before and after a moment he glanced up as the silence was broken, realizing the girl was smiling. It was… innocent. Nice, after seeing her cry. It made him feel relieved and a little something else; he wasn’t sure what it was. But it was warm and fuzzy. Emmett stayed silent for a few seconds, tossing another napkin over his shoulder. “I don’t have to,” he said simply. “Anything’s better than seeing someone cry.” And he meant it. In both the uncomfortable way and the empathetic way.

And then, Emmett wasn’t staring at a purple stain. Rather, he was now face-to-face with the girl who announced her name as Aren and he blinked at the hand that extended out to him. He stared intently at her face, studying her curiously as he ignored the hand. Huh. The girl was kind of adorable, kind of like a child who just stopped crying after been given a lollipop. But she wasn’t a child, probably only a year or two younger than him, and in the back of his mind he relished that fact. Emmett was silent for a very long moment, his eyes tracing along her features, until he reached out, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Tear stains,” he stated plainly before his hand was gone just as fast as it appeared. And then he stared back at her eyes, continuing to ignore the extended hand. “Emmett.” His voice was clipped and emotionless, but the corner of his mouth twitched into something that resembled a smile before he stood up again, shoving his hands into his pocket. He hadn’t thought to help Aren up until after a split second when he already stood and he sighed, reluctantly holding out a hand for the girl. God, he was doing a lot of things he usually wouldn’t, but that’s not what made it strange for him. What was strange was that he didn’t mind all that much. It was a foreign feeling to him, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to shake it off. Emmett looked down at the girl, curiosity tugging at him. “Do you always cry when strangers bump into you, or am I a special case?” He did ruin her dress after all.

[AREN NOVA KAEL]

a n y w h e r e - b u t - h e r e ! [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

[th][bg=000000][atrb=border,0,true]

tag ! virginie && emmy ;; word count ! 9 6 0 ;; setting ! Academy Dance ( “Prom” ) ;; outfit ! click for his dress which now has a nice stain, matching flats, hair in a bun ;; [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

They were staring at each other. Aren couldn’t help but stare right back at him, at least. Perhaps it ought to have bothered him that the boy was staring at him, but he didn’t really care. He was looking back at him, admiring his eyes. They were so dark, but they didn’t really lose that color—they were still warm, and brown, and beautiful. And then the eyes were moving away, as if the boy didn’t want Aren to see. He shook his head, shutting his own eyes tightly, and tugged the jacket closer around his shoulders, a little embarrassed at his reaction. He wasn’t supposed to get so caught up in someone’s eyes. People didn’t like being stared at. It was awkward. Sure, some people liked attention, but proper staring was almost never appreciated. It was… creepy. Creepy was the right word. He didn’t want to come off as creepy. He wanted to come off as nice. He was a nice person, right? He didn’t want this boy to think he was creepy, especially because his first impression had probably been terrible enough as it was. But maybe he hadn’t even noticed that Aren was staring. That would be the absolute best right now. He wouldn’t point it out, just in case. Just to be safe. When the boy looked up again, Aren very stubbornly stared at his nose instead of his eyes, hoping it wouldn’t be awkward. The nose wasn’t too bad to look at either. It was a rather shapely feature. Dear lord, what was wrong with him? How on earth could a nose be shapely? He bit his lip, wondering if Emmett was going to say something. He was only briefly distracted when the napkin flew over his shoulder like a miniature golf ball. For a minute, he considered asking the stranger not to litter, but he could pick up the napkins momentarily himself. As soon as the stranger stopped dabbing at his dress and returned to whatever he had been doing previously. Though, honestly, Aren sort of hoped he would stick around. He liked making friends. Besides, he really didn’t want to be here on his own. A dance was something for couples to go to, generally. People who attended places like this without dates usually had groups of friends to go with. Now that his date had abandoned him, he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do. He didn’t think any of his close friends would be showing up, and he hadn’t seen anyone around either. From the fact that the boy was just look at him sort of oddly, Aren didn’t think that his hand would be shaken either. He looked down at it, wondering if he had something on his skin, just as something touched his cheek and he quickly looked up again. There was a thumb on his cheek. He stared at Emmett, said cheeks turning pink again, even with the explanation. “Emmett,” he repeated to himself so he wouldn’t forget, and nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Emmett.” He almost laughed at the statement. The evening wasn’t really nice, but he did sort of like meeting the boy in front of him, even if he knew nothing about him. He cleared his throat, reaching with the hand he had previously held out for a shake to tuck some loose hair behind his hair. “So… uhm… what element are you in?” He might as well learn a little something about the guy, right? And it wasn’t a bad question. It would suck if the boy happened to be an earth or a water—he wasn’t supposed to associate with them, after all—but Aren was hoping it would be more along the lines of a wind, maybe. Waters and earths didn’t ask questions like that, right? But earths were the ones that were so sweet, like when Emmett had told him to smile. “N-No,” he stammered, blushing again and staring at the floor. “It was… it wasn’t really you… well, it was the stain… it was sort of… the gum on the sidewalk.” He didn’t know if Emmett would understand what he was trying to get at, to be honest, so he explained, “You know, when you’re having a bad day, and you step in some guy, and it just makes you explode? It was the little thing that sort of made me explode, I guess.” He shrugged, and glanced at the door through which he could heard the music and see the writhing bodies, almost glad he wasn’t really among them. Just from seeing it, it appeared to be such an awkward style of dance. He’d much prefer to waltz, if he could. But looking there also made him remember his date. He sighed. “You caught me right after I saw my date dancing—grinding, really, with someone else.” He looked up at Emmett, his cheeks still flushed, from the blush as much as the crying. “Do you have a date you need to go back to?” He’d feel bad if he’d stolen the boy from some other very lucky girl. God, he didn’t even know this guy, and he was thinking his possible date was lucky. Either, he was trying to make Emmett a good guy in his head because of his failure of a date, or he was just being superficial and considering the fact that the boy in front of him was rather handsome. If he was a good guy and handsome, then it wasn’t so much of a question of whether he had a date, but why he was here, with Aren, instead of with that date. Aren really hoped she wouldn’t be mad at either of them for the diversion of attention.

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notes ! yay for awkwardness~ I don’t even know anymore, to be honest ;;

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[EMMETT HIKARU NAKAMURA]

He waited, silently, his eyes watchful. It was for that one moment that they stared at each other. Emmett half expected for her to tear her eyes away from his, the blush that crept onto her cheeks flushing her skin—but instead she stared right back at him. And it was that moment Emmett chose to move his gaze away from her. It was unsettling, but not in the way that could be taken in the negative way, if that made sense. He just… he barely paid attention to people. It was… troublesome. And he was always afraid he’d find something in them—whether it was good or bad—that’d make him attached. Or worse, them finding something in him. There was nothing but broken pieces of glass; Emmett just knew he’s built his wall up too high to let it all crumble now. His mother used to always tell him that eyes were like storybooks. They told many tales, hardships—with just one look. His was blank, unwritten, and locked away. But she also told him how she’d never leave like his father did. Since then Emmett learned to not believe her. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Emmett leaned in slightly, raising an eyebrow when the girl didn’t quite meet his eyes. She was staring at his face, just not really at him. He rolled his eyes, not wanting to question her. He’s met weirder people. “It could be better,” he said honestly, staring at blush on her cheeks. There it was again! Emmett furrowed his eyebrows slightly, resisting the urge to reach out again to test if it was just the lighting or if there was actual warmth that spread across her cheeks. So instead, he shoved a handful of napkins into Aren’s face, turning his face away slightly. “Here. Take the rest.” There were still a few trails of tears that stained her face; he didn’t feel up to wiping it away for her. Mostly because he’d be too preoccupied with the blush that would stain her cheeks and be tempted to do it again to feel the warmth under his thumb and just—no. Emmett would not go there, not in a million years, so he was thankful when she spoke again. He raised an eyebrow at her, silent for a brief moment before he spoke, his voice clipped and rough as it had been before. “Thunder.” Emmett scanned the girl with one sweep of his eyes, trying to guess what element she belonged to, then grimaced slightly. Her personality thus far just screamed Earth. Well, if that was the case, the word Thunder would be enough to scare them away. Hopefully. The thought of an Earth clinging to him with forever gratefulness just made Emmett cringe.

He just stared back at Aren as she stumbled along her words, studying her face curiously. She was blushing again, that was for sure. What did Emmett do anyways? Either she was overheating or he was just that thickheaded. Most likely the latter. There were just some things he had trouble wrapping his head around, especially anything that involved it. He wasn’t experienced, hell he only had one girlfriend (if he could even really call her that) in his lifetime—but that went to shit quickly, so he couldn’t count that as experience. A shitty point in his life, sure, but not an experience. Emmett’s never made a girl blush as far as he’s concerned. It wasn’t like he meant to, either… but it did make him feel a little amused. Slightly accomplished. Whatever accomplishment that was. “Ah.” He glanced back into the mess hall, the obnoxious bright colors of decorations and the mesh of bodies on the dance floor giving him a headache. His eyes scanned the crowd. Dances weren’t a big deal to him, but of course he usually was indifferent about anything. And being the stereotypical person he was, Emmett figured it was a big deal with girls—especially when they had dates. He looked back at Aren for a brief moment, tilting his head as he studied her again. She was fairly cute; obviously put in a lot of effort for a guy who blew her off. Emmett didn’t know why but he felt a surge of electricity shoot through his veins, sudden irritation lingering on his fingertips. It was a high school dance, he understood that. People came with dates to just show off, he understood that, too. But he’d never understand why it was necessary to leave someone hanging when it obviously meant a lot to her. Taking a deep breath, he tilted his head towards the dance floor. “Which one?” And of course, the question was meant to reveal her roaming date.

Date. Emmett blinked for a second, processing the question. Him? Have a date? He almost scoffed at the question, though looking at her again with her damned blushing cheeks he sighed and answered stiffly. “No. I don’t have a date tonight. Fortunately.” He wouldn’t be able to deal with one, honestly. “Too much trouble.” And it was true; it wasn’t like he intended to stick around very long anyways. If anything, if by some miracle he actually had a date, he would’ve left them on the dance floor.

And maybe that’s why he was just as bad as the guy who blew off Aren.

But maybe he was also atoning for that fact by staying with her.

[AREN NOVA KAEL]

a n y w h e r e - b u t - h e r e ! [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

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tag ! virginie && emmy ;; word count ! 9 5 5 ;; setting ! Academy Dance ( “Prom” ) ;; outfit ! click for his dress which now has a nice stain, matching flats, hair in a bun ;; [cs=2][bg=060606][atrb=border,0,true,b]

The near-stranger leaned in, and, though he was tempted to lean back, he held his ground and kept his gaze on the nose that he was trying to convince himself wasn’t actually shapely. A nose was like a butt, he figured, in that he found it really hard to understand how on earth such a thing could possibly be attractive. It was just a feature with a particular purpose. Even if it was symmetrical, it couldn’t possibly be attractive. And yet, they sometimes were. He didn’t understand why, but there was something hypnotizing occasionally, about a nose or a behind. Like Emmett’s nose. He hadn’t looked at his bottom, and he was going to try and keep his eyes firmly away from there. God, think of something else, he commanded himself, and was glad when the boy in front of him spoke up. Thank god. “Everything can better,” he replied just as honestly, tilting his head to the side and wondering if Emmett always looked at the bad side of things, or if he was just in a bad mood today. He didn’t know nearly enough about the one in front of him to make any sort of judgment. He accepted the tissues he pushed at him, looking down at them in slight confusion. Oh, right. The tears. He pulled one away from the others and rubbed at his face with it. Surprise flitted across his expression when Emmett announced his element, and he focused on his eyes again. He supposed he shouldn’t have been very surprised. Most thunders were grumpy, and Emmett seemed at least borderline so. He supposed the surprise was more directed at the fact that they had anything in common. It seemed unlikely that they would never have met. They couldn’t be more than two years apart in age—no, that was a lie. Emmett could be a college senior, for all Aren knew, if a high school senior had invited him here. “I am, too,” he agreed finally, smiling up at him again, a little pleased. At least they weren’t on opposite sides of the alliance. That would just make him take a run for it. As it was, he sort of like he grumpy person in front of him and didn’t really mind sticking around, as long as Emmett wasn’t really opposed to it. The thought made his heart sink a little. Thunders weren’t usually sociable. It was amazing Emmett had come at all. If it were Aren’s guess, he’d say that the majority of the partiers here tonight were waters or fires. They seemed to be the ones most likely to go, though he wouldn’t be surprised to see winds or earths. Only the thunders felt somewhat misplaced. “What grade are you in?” he added curiously, still smiling at him, still sort of searching for something to connect them a little. He liked having friends, and Emmett seemed a likable fellow. It probably wouldn’t hurt to be friends with another thunder anyway. And no, he wasn’t wanting to be friends because Emmett was handsome. Don’t look at his butt, he reminded himself, flushing a little just at the thought that he might. He wanted friends just for the sake of having friends. There was nothing wrong with that. At all. Thinking about it now, there was probably exactly no good reason to have to this dance. He didn’t like crowds. He hadn’t trusted his date enough to even tell him the truth, so he obviously hadn’t trusted him very much at all, and the abandonment should not have been much of a surprise. But it was, and he supposed that was in part why it bothered him so much. If he’d seen it coming, he wouldn’t have been as upset. He would plan his revenge and be done with it. For now, however, he was mostly troubled. The thoughts of revenge were present, of course, but he couldn’t think of a way to serve it. He didn’t know what he could do to his ex-date that would be equivalent to what that date had done to him. He hadn’t been stood up, but he’d been left for someone else, and that was almost as bad. How was he going to get home anyway? He could walk, he supposed. He liked his midnight walks, and he wasn’t wearing heels, so it shouldn’t hurt his feet. He’d just be cold, and he could always deal with that. He glanced up at Emmett when the question touched his ears, and then to the doorway they were both gazing at. “I don’t see him,” he spoke quickly, not really bothering to look for the perpetrator. He shrugged. “Besides, there’s nothing to do about it.” And he didn’t think there was. He swallowed nervously, watching the other thunder’s face, not sure what to say for a minute except, “Oh,” which escaped him without much thought. He didn’t seem to be very pleased even at the idea of having brought someone. That probably meant that Emmett wasn’t exactly pleased to be hanging around him, crying, stained mess that he was. Aren gazed at the ground, hands tightening around the napkins. “Well, I guess it’s time for me to take my leave then,” he continued, tilting his head up and forcing a smile on his cheeks. Avoid troubling someone, and that was a good thing. He liked not bothering people, and if it would not bother Emmett if he left, then he would try very much not to bother him. “Have fun, Emmett. It was nice meeting you,” he repeated again, waving to him, and started heading for the exit. No point in saying goodbye to the date who’d abandoned him, after all.

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notes ! emmett could walk him home xD or we can end here. Whichever you prefer :3 ;;

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[EMMETT HIKARU NAKAMURA]

Observing people was Emmett’s thing. He was quiet, watchful, and with those traits, it was easy to study people from afar, close, wherever. It was also easy to read them—though unfortunately for him, he rarely ever interacted with people. Or rather, fortunately. Because he didn’t like dealing with people in general. That was why he was so hesitant on helping (was it really helping?) the girl piece back her night together so it didn’t completely crumble under the absolute suckiness of it. For all Emmett knew, he just made it suckier by ruining her dress. Oh, well. He’d pay for dry cleaning if she demanded it, just so he didn’t have to deal with “you did this, so you owe me” kind of thing. He hated returning favors—he felt like a helpless rag doll. Mostly because he just didn’t like the thought of being someone’s “slave” until they felt satisfied. “Very true,” he agreed after a moment, studying the girl’s eyes. “But they aren’t.” Unfortunately. There were a million things Emmett wanted to be better. They weren’t though, so he eventually learned to deal with it. Can, he realized, couldn’t be so easily replaced by is.

The small surprised flicked through Aren’s eyes and he raised an eyebrow. He always thought it was obvious he was a Thunder. At least, that’s what the handful of people he spoke to said. Always with a permanent straight face on, always rolling his eyes, isolated—what? Did that not sound like a stereotypical Thunder? He guessed he didn’t get annoyed as often as his other fellow elementals, but everything else? He could be a poster child. Emmett sighed and refrained from rolling his eyes—though he did praise himself for staying as long as he had—and was about to get up and leave, when Aren said she was a Thunder as well. He blinked at her for a moment; he was usually good at this kind of stuff. She? A Thunder? Emmett became silent, waiting for her to tell him it was a joke. Anything. Nope? Nope. “Figured you were an Earth, or something,” he finally said, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. He didn’t mean it as an insult (despite his not-so-positive feelings toward Earths), rather, Aren just fit there. Emmett couldn’t deny his relief, though. He was also surprised that he hadn’t seen her on the way to the dorms or in any of his classes—that, or he just didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings as much as he liked to think he was. “12th.” Last year at the Academy, thank goodness. He still didn’t know what he was going to do after high school; he pretty much had free reign on his choices, considering. Emmett frowned slightly at the thought. It’d been over 9 years. He wished he got over it already. No use of crying over something that’s already happened.

Emmett contemplated as to why he asked her to point out her date in the first place. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do anything about, nor would it change anything. He just… she just… “Who says there’s nothing to do about it?” he asked rather abruptly. He fell into silence again, taking a small breath before speaking again. “I mean… it might not do much but at least he’d know.” And not care, most likely. “A good kick in the balls is a tempting idea, too.” He wouldn’t be able to dance with other girls, that’s for sure. And it showed that not all girls were easily thrown away without consequences. A kick in the balls was a horrible consequence indeed. Too bad Aren wasn’t wearing heels. Emmett would’ve found it quite worthwhile if he saw that.

The silence between him answering and Aren responding made him a little nervous. What, did he say something wrong? Probably. He usually did, but that was intentional. This wasn’t. He studied her face, the way she also looked nervous, and stayed silent as she gathered herself up. She smiled at him, thought it felt like someone invisible was forcibly tugging the corners of her mouth upwards without her consent. Emmett stood up when she did, stuffing his hands into his pockets, continuing to watch her as she slowly began to disappear, the wave of her hands keeping him focused. It wasn’t everyday he met someone and stuck around to actually get to know them—but really all he got was that she was a Thunder and was stood up by her date. That was enough information for him, the soft pink flashing in his mind again; the feel of her cheek underneath his fingertips. Emmett tilted his head, his eyes still on Aren’s retreating figure, and softly whispered a goodbye, one that was drowned out by the music’s bass. “Nice to meet you, too.”

end.