[Even that single message had been awkward to send back. He had checked up on her first, and all she had replied with was a simple, curt, all-too-professional "I am doing fine, thank you for asking. Hope you're well." that she had typed and backspaced on many, many times before finally giving up and hitting send. After that, it was radio silence on both ends, and it was clear to her that she wasn't the only one making a concerted effort to avoid him.
They only lived a street away, but she would take the longer routes just to dodge any possibility of running into him on her way to and from home. Or... she would simply not leave the house or would hide in her backyard.
But no matter what she did to try and busy herself, her thoughts always inevitably would wander back to that night a week ago. If she wasn't thinking about that, then she would be thinking about the even more inevitable meeting they would have again when they decided to both pull up their adult pants and talk about it...
She would rather not, but that is something that people talk about, right? It should be... considering that even after Ilsa figured out who it was, she continued anyway. In fact, it wasn't until after Eustace's identity was unmasked that she threw herself all in and what that meant for her. Never mind the fact that he knew who she was the entire time and went ahead anyway.
...Not that she hated it, or was mad about it, but...
Ilsa could blame the many, many drinks that they had—especially her—but how long would that excuse fly?
Not long, she thinks. Her overthinking has already significantly distilled its legitimacy.
Ugh! Here she goes, thinking about it again, and when that same tingle passes over her lips, she storms out to the front yard to tend to her growing flower garden, trimming the bushes and picking out the peonies and orchids that she has growing out there.
Everything was going fine until she hears the padding of... paws?...on the street, and her ears swivel in its direction first.
...
Before she does make the mistake of looking, curiosity getting the best of her. And as soon as she sees Eustace standing there, she stiffens, and the small shears fall out of her hands and into the grass.
What is he doing here? On her street? And more importantly...]
no subject
They only lived a street away, but she would take the longer routes just to dodge any possibility of running into him on her way to and from home. Or... she would simply not leave the house or would hide in her backyard.
But no matter what she did to try and busy herself, her thoughts always inevitably would wander back to that night a week ago. If she wasn't thinking about that, then she would be thinking about the even more inevitable meeting they would have again when they decided to both pull up their adult pants and talk about it...
She would rather not, but that is something that people talk about, right? It should be... considering that even after Ilsa figured out who it was, she continued anyway. In fact, it wasn't until after Eustace's identity was unmasked that she threw herself all in and what that meant for her. Never mind the fact that he knew who she was the entire time and went ahead anyway.
...Not that she hated it, or was mad about it, but...
Ilsa could blame the many, many drinks that they had—especially her—but how long would that excuse fly?
Not long, she thinks. Her overthinking has already significantly distilled its legitimacy.
Ugh! Here she goes, thinking about it again, and when that same tingle passes over her lips, she storms out to the front yard to tend to her growing flower garden, trimming the bushes and picking out the peonies and orchids that she has growing out there.
Everything was going fine until she hears the padding of... paws?...on the street, and her ears swivel in its direction first.
...
Before she does make the mistake of looking, curiosity getting the best of her. And as soon as she sees Eustace standing there, she stiffens, and the small shears fall out of her hands and into the grass.
What is he doing here? On her street? And more importantly...]
When did you get a dog?
[...
Ah, shit. Did she say that out loud?]