the only thing left are the stars; thea

"Jesus," Tristan exclaimed, clutching at his forehead. His hand made contact with his skin only briefly before he was dragged through the doorframe into the room beyond. He was forced to windmill his arms backwards to stop himself toppling forwards on top of her. Crushing the girl you were trying to build bridges with wasn't the most productive of tactics, he was sure. It certainly was not the most impressive entrance he'd ever made into a girl's bedroom.
"What the hell are you do--" she shushed him, cutting him off, so he raised his eyebrows at her instead. He didn't get chance to look at her face for long as she stretched for the door. Tristan suddenly became very aware of her chest squashing against him. His eyes flicked downwards to the collar of the loosely-laced shirt. When she stood up straight again, her finger pressed forcefully to her lips he did his best to look as though he hadn't been looking. He'd always had a certain flair for the innocent act.

The guard's voice was hushed, but loud enough to be heard through the wood of the door. Why were the guards on Thea's corridor so much more alert than the ones on his? Then he recognised the guard's tone and frowned. Oh. That was why. Tristan walked backwards towards Thea's bed and flopped down on it. He stared up at the canopy of her four poster. Why did girls' rooms always smell so amazing; a striking mix of flowers, fruit, and something less identifiable.
Yes, thank you! Just a...mouse.
Tristan sat up and grinned. "Mouse?" he mouthed back at her with a smirk. When she addressed the guard again he leaned back on the bed again and started to consider all the strange item spread across her bedside table. He wasn't sure he knew what even half of them were for.

As the guard left and Tristan sat up for the second time, it struck Tristan that Thea looked just as pretty in her practical outfit of trousers and leather jacket as she did in her dresses. He found himself wondering idly if she'd look even prettier without either. Catching himself with some difficulty before his mind wandered too far in that direction, he smiled at her.
"I'll live," he promised, rubbing his forehead again. The alcohol he'd drank seemed to have dulled the worst of it. He suddenly became aware of the fact he probably smelled something like a tavern already. And now, so did her bed. Oops. "Are you sure it was an accident?"

He was sure she had been avoiding him. He'd occasionally noticed her leaving a room as he entered it, or heard of her turning up after he'd left to attend on his father or see to the horses. Things with Thea were never simple. There seemed to be a wall between them which varied in solidity but never vanished. It was the most frustrating thing in the world.
"Chris, Alex and I were going to head to the tavern in The Peaks, and I thought you might like to come with us" he explained. "In the mood for a few drinks and to watch Chris lose pathetically at cards?"

the only thing left are the stars

photo by Mark Robinson at flickr.com


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