fandomhighdorms | The Roof, Thursday Morning

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The Roof, Thursday Morning

By now, Ender had identified whatever was going on with him as the raging hormones that they were. He still didn't like it; the indirectness of the itch, the way it made him flush for no reason at all, was troubling. Maybe if there had been an actual target for it, it would've made more sense to deal with, but there wasn't.

It was just some other creature carrying his skin around, like an overcharged chimpanzee looking for a quick release. Out of everything in the world he didn't have control over, his body had always been the one exception.

In short, Ender's place was on the roof this morning, where he could still catch the last snatches of the night's cold and he could focus on the laptop keys going tap-tap-tap underneath his fingers.

[[ open, for i am cruel ]]

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"It's a lovely morning, isn't it?"

Not exactly a great conversation starter, but Eleanor couldn't think of much else. She was too busy noticing his eyes. Wow.

No, it wasn't a lovely morning. It was tiring, exhausting, even, and posing a strain. In the interest of maintaining a normal facade, Ender tried for a slight smile. "I guess," he said.

It wasn't brilliant, either. Not to his standards.

"We haven't been introduced yet. I'm Eleanor," she reached a hand out toward him.

Would skin-to-skin contact be a good idea right now? Ender's mind said no, but there was a little voice now, screaming about how it would hurt anyone. So he took her hand, and shook it gently. "Ender," he replied. "Aren't you one of the new students?"

"Yes," she replied, feeling suddenly flushed. His touch was gentle and it felt so nice. "I'm ... from England."

Because that wouldn't be obvious from the accent. Heavens above, why couldn't she think?

"You wouldn't be the first."

It was that Ender had a lot of extra brains to go around, even if those were clouded and foggy. "I'm from the States, but I grew up..." he squinted, and only then did he let go of her hand, slowly. "Somewhere else."

She nodded, "So I've been told." She found herself wishing he would hold her hand again, so instead she pulled it close to her chest.

"Where somewhere else?"

It was so warm outside, even in her nightgown, she felt hot. There was a bit of pinkness beginning to fill her cheeks.

"Space station," he said. "Military school."

It wasn't doing too well for his more complex sentence structures, Ender noted, idly, but at least there was still some cognitive prowess going on underneath the itches and the memory of warm skin.

Still not quite right, even then.

"I have a friend who was in the Royal Air Force. He was a pilot."

Her own cognitive skills weren't too great either.

"What... do you do? In military school, I mean?"

She wanted to remove her shawl, but that would be so improper. Even though conversing with a boy in her nightgown was equally improper.

But she didn't care about propriety at the moment. All she could think about was how beautiful his eyes were and the warm touch of his hand.

Good Lord, what was wrong with her? She didn't even know him.

(going afk for just a bit. back later!)

"I'm not in military school anymore," he said. "It's did. It was very tactical. Sort of like the air force, except for space."

He was trying to make some kind of distance for himself by crossing his arms, but it wasn't quite working. Body language was supposed to function better for this.

"Space? Must be very exciting."

Her eyes followed the motion of his arms and she found herself wondering what he looked like under that shirt.

...which was immediately followed by a blush as she realized the things she was thinking.

"Space itself is pretty boring," Ender admitted. He was getting tired of these responses. He'd have to deal with them somehow. "It's what happens in it that matters. If there's a war. If there's planets we can settle on. Unless you mean null-G itself."

"War is never pleasant anywhere, it seems." The mention of war helped pull her a bit out of her strange mood. "I would hope it doesn't happen very often."

"What is null-g?" she asked curiously.

"A space where there's a lack of gravity," he replied, trying to focus on that, like swimming except better, weightless. "Null, meaning none, and g, meaning gravity."

"So... floating, in a sense."

"In a sense," he agreed, "But more thoroughly than water."

He shifted the laptop on his legs.

"Interesting."

She glanced down at the movement, blushing again.

"Well. Perhaps it should be best that I prepare for school. I do have a class today."

Amd perhaps she could escape these odd feelings as well.

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The Roof, Thursday Morning

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