thenameislahey:

[ summer rainault ]

Summer dropped back down into the seat, put her head down on the table, and just gave up. There was a piece of ice melting under her ass, she could feel it; she was wet in random spots; and she’d just managed to look a complete fool in front of someone who still hated her.

“Can you laugh at me or something?” she mumbled. “I don’t even know how to /be/ around you or anything.” She lifted her head up to look at him, and a trickle of cold water ran down her nose. It took about two seconds of crossing her eyes upward to discover that a piece of ice had frozen itself to her hair.

                  ”That isn’t really the type of thing I’d laugh at.
                   We were friends for a decent stretch of time,
                   don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about my sense
                   of humour already?”

     It was plain to see how uncomfortable she was so he did
     his best to put her more at ease — though only slightly.

She wrapped her hand around the ice, hissing at the cold fire of it against her skin, until it melted enough to come out of her hair. “I didn’t forget — I didn’t — ” She blew out a breath. “Maybe your sense of humour changes for people you hate.” She dropped the ice in the cup and shook her hand before looking up at him. “I was going to avoid you,” she said quietly. “You made it clear you didn’t ever want anything to do with me ever again. I’ve been trying to forget, because remembering hurts.”

thenameislahey:

[ summer rainault ]

She jerked at the sound, a harsh involuntary startle that knocked over her cup, spreading ice and faintly soda laced water across the table. “Fuck,” she snapped, equally involuntarily, and grabbed for the paper cup, sending several bits of ice skittering across to land in his lap.

                  ”Ah!”

      Jolted into paying attention by the sudden cool sensation
      on his thighs and the obvious mess that had become the
      table, the word left his mouth almost as a hiss. He was not
      at all happy with the situation, and he had good reason to
      be. He held the book aloft with one hand to keep it out of
      the spilled liquid’s reach and quickly removed the cubes
      of ice from where they had begun to melt into his jeans.
      Once they had been placed on the table, he too reached
      for the napkins, hoping to speed up the cleaning process.
      One of the employees must have seen the commotion and
      with three people sopping up the mess, it was gone relatively
      quickly. That was when Isaac glanced down to see what
      remained of his meal had become far less appetizing as
      a result of droplets of her drink pooling around it.

                  ”—so much for that.”

Summer dropped back down into the seat, put her head down on the table, and just gave up. There was a piece of ice melting under her ass, she could feel it; she was wet in random spots; and she’d just managed to look a complete fool in front of someone who still hated her.

“Can you laugh at me or something?” she mumbled. “I don’t even know how to /be/ around you or anything.” She lifted her head up to look at him, and a trickle of cold water ran down her nose. It took about two seconds of crossing her eyes upward to discover that a piece of ice had frozen itself to her hair.

thenameislahey:

[ summer rainault ]

“You didn’t want to see me before … before,” she mumbled. “You didn’t even want to talk to me. I figured that hadn’t changed.” She pushed her tray away a little. Her guts were too churned up now to eat; she’d just choke on it. Linking her hands together, she put them over her eyes. “Maybe I’m not mature enough. I guess that makes you better than me.”

                ”I’m still not interested in talking, that hasn’t changed.”

     When she broke eye contact, his gaze turned down to his meal. He had been almost finished when she arrived not a moment ago, but after seeing her, he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, which made the food seem to grow in volume. It had been instilled in him as a young child to finish every morsel of food on his plate. Over a decade had passed since then but old habits died hard so he forked a small piece and began to chew.

A strained silence fell between them. She didn’t want to just get up and leave — for one thing, that would be absurdly wasteful. Besides, leaving felt like she was letting him drive her off, and her pride wouldn’t allow that. He would have to leave first. She stared at her ereader instead, not turning pages and hardly seeing the words until the screensaver kicked in.

Surreptitiously, she sneaked glances at him. He still looked the same — she didn’t know why she thought he would look different. Her throat ached, and sternly she swallowed back tears. She wasn’t going to let him see her cry.

thenameislahey:

[ summer rainault ]

She had already sat down, not even looking at the other occupant, and plunged back into her book, when he spoke. Her gaze jerked up, fixing first on the curls, as unruly as ever, and then the planes of his face, and her heart seemed to leap up into her throat.

How had she not sensed him as soon as she walked in, much less before she sat down at his table? Her hand shook, and she put her book down before she dropped it. “I-I’m sorry,” she managed. “I didn’t realise it was you. I’ll, I’ll … “

               ”You don’t have to leave, you know. I’d like to think
                that we’re mature enough to share a table without
                one of us having to find a seat somewhere else.”

     The sight of the fiery haired girl before him made his blood boil with disdain but still his icy blue hues were met with by pair across the table. He wasn’t overly pleased with the situation but as he had stated, surely they weren’t going to act like children about it.

“You didn’t want to see me before … before,” she mumbled. “You didn’t even want to talk to me. I figured that hadn’t changed.” She pushed her tray away a little. Her guts were too churned up now to eat; she’d just choke on it. Linking her hands together, she put them over her eyes. “Maybe I’m not mature enough. I guess that makes you better than me.”

thenameislahey:

[ summer rainault ]

thenameislahey

Summer wasn’t completely sure how her twin had managed to convince her to come back to Beacon Hills. There were just too many people she wasn’t sure she could face there, and since school hadn’t started there really wasn’t much need — but Winter had insisted. And despite persistent perceptions about the red-headed twin, if Winter put her foot down, Summer acquiesced.

She spent a lot of her time buried in books, though. Even when Winter chased her out of the apartment, Summer just took her book with her, reading as she walked, or ate, or sat. It mostly kept people from talking to her, and her from noticing people. She wasn’t ready to notice people yet.

Annoyingly, today, her favourite little diner was absurdly busy — to the point where all the tables seemed to be occupied by noisy families or couples or businessmen in earnest groups. She glanced around, tray in hand, and spotted a few half-empty tables. Surely it would be okay for her to share a table with someone, just today. She navigated to the nearest one, set down the tray to give her wrist some relief, and mumbled, “Sorry, it’s so busy, can I just share your table?”

     It wasn’t uncommon for Isaac to eat out. He didn’t do it all the time but if Stiles was over for dinner, it was not at all a surprise to find Isaac going out. This particular day was no exception and the teen had been lucky enough to snag a booth before the diner became too full.

     He sat in silence, eyes following the lines of words in the book he had brought with him for company. That was until a familiar voice interrupted him. His gaze flickered between the very obviously packed diner and the redhead that stood before him and not a moment later, he gave a curt response.

               ”It’s a free country.”

She had already sat down, not even looking at the other occupant, and plunged back into her book, when he spoke. Her gaze jerked up, fixing first on the curls, as unruly as ever, and then the planes of his face, and her heart seemed to leap up into her throat.

How had she not sensed him as soon as she walked in, much less /before/ she sat down at his table? Her hand shook, and she put her book down before she dropped it. “I-I’m sorry,” she managed. “I didn’t realise it was you. I’ll, I’ll … “

thenameislahey

Summer wasn’t completely sure how her twin had managed to convince her to come back to Beacon Hills. There were just too many people she wasn’t sure she could face there, and since school hadn’t started there really wasn’t much need — but Winter had insisted. And despite persistent perceptions about the red-headed twin, if Winter put her foot down, Summer acquiesced.

She spent a lot of her time buried in books, though. Even when Winter chased her out of the apartment, Summer just took her book with her, reading as she walked, or ate, or sat. It mostly kept people from talking to her, and her from noticing people. She wasn’t ready to notice people yet.

Annoyingly, today, her favourite little diner was absurdly busy — to the point where all the tables seemed to be occupied by noisy families or couples or businessmen in earnest groups. She glanced around, tray in hand, and spotted a few half-empty tables. Surely it would be okay for her to share a table with someone, just today. She navigated to the nearest one, set down the tray to give her wrist some relief, and mumbled, “Sorry, it’s so busy, can I just share your table?”