Summer Smith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
somethingwithturquoise) wrote2024-04-20 06:20 am
somethingwithturquoise) wrote2024-04-20 06:20 am
Entry tags:
MHA #4; Saturday Morning [04/20].
There had been a lot of things Summer had been thinking about, thoughts that she frequently pushed to the side to focus on one distraction or the next, but were still no less present there in her mind. Some of those thoughts had already been pretty front and center last night, even before Atton went and poked at them and stirred them all up into pretty much a bubbling froth. But then there was the conversation she had with Rey at the bar when the island was doing its truth thing, and even before that, with Dean turning her down, because it just felt like a shitty thing to do to Stark.
She'd been thinking about it a lot, actually.
To the point where she didn't really sleep well last night, even as tired as she was from prom and post-prom club hopping, her brain just going over things and examining them and disecting them and just trying to figure them out. She did manage to doze a little bit, but, for the most part, she was back out of it way too early, and listening to the steady rhythm of Stark's breathing and his heartbeat as he slept and thought about how he always did sleep better when he was with her.
And how, for an absurd amount of time, she had it right in the palm of her hand the ability to give him the one thing he really wanted, and she'd just dangled it over his head to see how high he could jump to try and get it, and then just kept raising the bar higher and higher, and god, what an absolutely shitty thing to do to a person, especially one you claimed to care about and love...
What absolute Rick Sanchez behavior, tbh.
And one thing in particular that Atton had said last night just kept ringing in her head: Give it another six months and I'm sure he'll be shaped exactly like your perfect boyfriend.
But what even was that? What sort of impossible standard was she setting for him to meet, that he wasn't already? She sure as hell didn't know. Rey had suggested that she take some time to just 'be single,' but she'd tried to do that, and it all just kept leading her right back to Stark.
He'd definitely put in the time. And it wasn't like they practically weren't already there in everything but an official sense, to the point where even some guy who'd barely known either of them for a week was, even under the influence of island-induced horny pollen, was just all nah, man, there is a lot going on there already.
Maybe she really should stop being such an asshole coward about it and actually give this a serious shot.
And the timing....well, could it be any more perfect? Because today was the Highest of Holy Days for Summer, and she'd already planned on celebrating in her usual epic fashion. But now? Stark would wake up, they would talk, she would finally activate that one thing that she knew would make him so fucking happy he might just throw up, and then they could ride that emotional high into an actual high and just exist all wrapped up in that bubble all day while trying to come up with some of the most absurd and ridiculous flavor combinations to satiate that inevitable demand of needing to nosh....
It was kind of perfect, actually?
Like, what could possibly go wrong?
[[ and you know who it's for. ]]
She'd been thinking about it a lot, actually.
To the point where she didn't really sleep well last night, even as tired as she was from prom and post-prom club hopping, her brain just going over things and examining them and disecting them and just trying to figure them out. She did manage to doze a little bit, but, for the most part, she was back out of it way too early, and listening to the steady rhythm of Stark's breathing and his heartbeat as he slept and thought about how he always did sleep better when he was with her.
And how, for an absurd amount of time, she had it right in the palm of her hand the ability to give him the one thing he really wanted, and she'd just dangled it over his head to see how high he could jump to try and get it, and then just kept raising the bar higher and higher, and god, what an absolutely shitty thing to do to a person, especially one you claimed to care about and love...
What absolute Rick Sanchez behavior, tbh.
And one thing in particular that Atton had said last night just kept ringing in her head: Give it another six months and I'm sure he'll be shaped exactly like your perfect boyfriend.
But what even was that? What sort of impossible standard was she setting for him to meet, that he wasn't already? She sure as hell didn't know. Rey had suggested that she take some time to just 'be single,' but she'd tried to do that, and it all just kept leading her right back to Stark.
He'd definitely put in the time. And it wasn't like they practically weren't already there in everything but an official sense, to the point where even some guy who'd barely known either of them for a week was, even under the influence of island-induced horny pollen, was just all nah, man, there is a lot going on there already.
Maybe she really should stop being such an asshole coward about it and actually give this a serious shot.
And the timing....well, could it be any more perfect? Because today was the Highest of Holy Days for Summer, and she'd already planned on celebrating in her usual epic fashion. But now? Stark would wake up, they would talk, she would finally activate that one thing that she knew would make him so fucking happy he might just throw up, and then they could ride that emotional high into an actual high and just exist all wrapped up in that bubble all day while trying to come up with some of the most absurd and ridiculous flavor combinations to satiate that inevitable demand of needing to nosh....
It was kind of perfect, actually?
Like, what could possibly go wrong?
[[ and you know who it's for. ]]
no subject
But when he suggested upstairs, she shook her head with a protesting squeak at the idea of being abandoned while in such a state. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, adjusting her tail and attempted to explain as much in emphatic quirrel chittering and gestures.
no subject
Stark had enough practice talking to squirrels by now and talking to Summer that it wasn't that hard to discern what she wanted.
"And you can stay with me, if you like, or we can stay here. I... I'll make sure nothing happens."
Translation: I'll fling Leroy into a wall if necessary.
"And hopefully this will all be over soon."