High Gloss Highs

[Hallucinojelly†]

Hilary looked down at her shoes as he spoke; a thick scuffed mark had placed itself upon the surface of her right, and she stared at it blankly, waiting for Brock to give her the answer she hoped for. Of course, this was Brock she was talking about, so the incoherent mutterings escaping from the redness of his face told her all she needed to know before he'd even finished his half-sentences.

She didn't interrupt him though, she simply let him say his piece, reserving the right to cry until she'd gone home in an unashamedly drunken stupor and poured her insides all over her bedroom floor. But then he finished. It took a while, the longest of times, but he got there; as those three last words entered Hilary's mind she knew there was a reason she'd let Leila drag her over here tonight.

"...You do?"

Her eyes were focused on Brock now, on his face and on his very own eyes, and she sat there, quiet and unflinching for a good few seconds while she contemplated all that that could mean.

"You do, and you're not joking, or anything?"

Her lips began to twitch at the sides, a smile forcing its way up to her mouth, waiting to be let free and set about making Brock smile too. And just like that, her impatient lips met his, tasting for the first time the taste of a boy who genuinely liked her back. She couldn't help herself- she was ecstatic as she felt the nerves slip away from the kiss, and the two finally got past everything that had kept them apart for so long.

At this realisation, she broke away abruptly as her high-pitched giggling took over the silence of the room and left Brock confused as he looked on.

"I'm... oh, God, I'm sorry, really, ahaha..."

Catching her breath, she sighed and flicked her fringe out of her eyes, shaking her head as the remnant laughter escaped fom her lungs. Looking aside, she thought abut how that must've looked to Brock, and quickly set about making it right to ensure he didn't think ill of her. She shuffled along the bed towards him, and rested her head on his shoulder as she stared at the mirror on the back of the bedroom door.

"Sorry if I weirded you out."

((Hilary Strand continued in Decisions, Decisions))

[Namira]

((We're like, the biggest pair of inactives ever))

Um... w-wow.

Brock had no idea what to say, struck wordless even by his standards. Even though he'd admitted to 'liking' Hilary, there was no expectation of a kiss, not in a million years. Brock had kissed and been kissed before, normally at parties, but this was different.

This wasn't drunken or frivolous, this had genuine feeling behind, a spark. A slight shiver ran through him, and at that moment, Brock Mason knew that here was something special.

In a way, it was exciting, exhilariting, in another, it was more than terrifying.

As Hilary put her head on his arm, he almost instinctively moved his opposite hand across to stroke her hair gently.

"I'm not freaked out, it's okay," he told her, then hesitated. "I... I think I'm going to head on home. Got a lot to think about."

Brock stood up, giving Hilary a slight smile as he did so. He didn't know where this was going to go... but right now, he didn't care.

"I'll see you later."

And Brock Mason went home, confused, but content.

((Brock continued elsewhere))