Shuck [popcorn post-formal fluff] [closed]

She held his hand in silence. The snow had begun to pick up on campus as they walked through the courtyard, towards the dormitory buildings. Maisie's mind was too abuzz to notice the pinpricking numbness on her shoulders with each permeating snowflake that fell on her skin. She clutched his palm, the joining of their hands second in hotness to the red on her face. Yes, as she thought about it, that whole scene was corny. She sobered from the hot, light mind she possessed while dancing. Whatever just happened, it was ridiculously uncharacteristic of her.

And what was she doing now with him, leading him back to her dorm? She had nothing to say. Maisie hadn't said something biting to him in hours.

She walked straight, her heel a knife as it sliced through the fresh glaze of snow that befell the path, clopping like a horse's hoof. Louder it went as she ascended the stairs to the dormitory building's doorway, dulled by the carpet as she walked into the building, not bothering to hold the door for him. She flinched backwards, however, as she walked into the heat, a gesture that was too late, and not committed to nearly enough. She smiled nervously, and in the dormitory lobby, the sounds of the formal still fresh in the vibrations of the air, she took his hand once more.

They made it to her doorway no more than a moment later.

"Welcome to la case del Meyers," she said, a little off-kilter, throwing the door open before them hard enough to smack the adjacent wall. The living room was dark, undisturbed by roommates who had to be still at the formal, or crashing somewhere else. Maisie swallowed thickly, and walked inside. The first thing she did was reach down and remove her shoes.

It was ghastly the way their footsteps echoed through the halls. Even during the night, there were always a few people lurking around the rooms or blasting their music. Summers weren't the most organized dorm, per se, but he never imagined that Autumns were much better - if anything, he figured they were worse. The usual mess that lay around once he stepped into her particular home only served to prove his point. The blessing of the formal, he supposed. The two of them truly would be alone.

"Obrigado," Liam bit back a smirk, quick to shrug the drenched vest off his shoulders and holding it out in his hand. He glanced over at the kitchen counter, tossing the fabric onto the edge of the sleek tile and kicking off his shoes. As he looked back to Maisie, it was easy to see what a mess the snow outside had made of her. The soft curls of her hair had all but disappeared, left in damp clumps, and her dress had seemed like it had seen better days.

He allowed himself to freely grin, sliding closer up behind her. It was a shame, but it was closer to the Blondie he'd come to know. "Popcorn? Movie?" Liam leaned over her shoulder, his voice low. "... Anime?" He hadn't seen any of those sort of shows yet. It wasn't the sort of after-prom date that most had in mind, but... damn, he didn't want to press his luck.

"Sure, whatever." Her voice trailed as she focused on other things, not even picking up on the 'anime.' She placed her purse on the nightstand beside the couch, twirling her ring of keys and keychains around her finger. Every movement she made was stiff, but it was not even by her own nerves; her dress seemed to cling to her under the dampening from long-melted snow. What was soft and flowy now stuck straight down, almost sharp on the way the fabric dried. "I'm going to go get changed. I feel like I'm carrying another person on me right now."

She pointed to the remote on the couch, and in the first time since they'd entered the room, or really the first time since they danced, she locked eyes with Liam. Maisie faltered for a moment, brushing less-than-perfect hair from her forehead. She smiled lightly, and turned to disappear to her room.

She'd left him hanging there, her small smile returned by his own stupid one. He straightened up as she disappeared back into her room, shutting the door firmly behind her, he assumed. He didn't stay mindful long enough to see, his warm gaze flickering straight into the kitchen instead. He'd been starving, and somewhat off in each step, not having the smarts to eat a single thing that evening and surviving only off that damned punch.

Popcorn was the easiest snack in the world to make, much to his appreciation. It had taken him no time at all to have it all fresh in the bag, swinging himself over the back of the couch and getting comfortable, flipping through a few channels. Ah - one late night network seemed to have quote a few of those anime things lined up.

Still wasn't his cup of tea, but it'd earn him some points right? And he caught it just at the precise starting hour.

Liam unveiled the show with a simple click. As the opening played on, it had taken little time at all for the smile on his face to twist, his eyebrow raised.

What the...?

What does someone wear when they have a date over after a dance?

Maisie looked over her options, a tank top, a t-shirt, and a pajama top, representing a spectrum in front of her. She laid her dress out on her bed, and crossed her arms. There was risque, overtly-cutesy, and a middle ground. She immediately shut down the pajama top, upturning a nose at the Hello Kitty heads that imprinted it. Yeah, that's what she wanted to show her date. She would go in to 'slip into something comfortable,' and come back in the garb of a four-year old girl.

This conflict went on, until something caught her eye deep in her closet. She'd almost forgotten about it. Would he think it was weird? He'd probably think it was weird. Nevertheless, however, she gripped the fabric by the shoulders of the hanger.

Maisie opened the door of her room uncertainly, wearing a long kimono, to see what Liam was watching, peering over his shoulder. She paused in her doorway, as if unable to walk out into the living room, or unwilling. A smile crawled across her face like wildfire, brightening her eyes as she succumbed to a giggle, and then a full out laugh, leaning into the doorframe. Lucky Star. She came back to him watching Lucky Star?

"Stop it," she choked out, stumbling backwards a bit into her room, then forward again to catch herself. "Stop it, you're fucking killing me, man, change that shit." Her chest ached with the pressure of the laughter, her catching him, but at the same time, lifted from the long-needed levity the situation brought. It'd felt on anchors for the longest time.

His eyes were so fixated on the television that he hadn't even quite noticed when she'd sprung the door back open. It was so... overly and sickeningly adorable, he wasn't sure what the hell to make of it. Still, that persistent smile clung to his face. "It's kind of cute," Liam muttered, droning and dragging out his words, letting the stupid theme song play on as he made a reach for the remote again at mah snail speed. Once it was in his hands, he merely muted it, finally glancing her way.

The way she beamed and laugh away made it hard to not start crackling himself. It was almost cuter than the stupid show itself, he thought a little humorously. But ah, that outfit she was wearing, he'd only seen it a few times - the girls in JapanTown back home wore them for ceremonies or whatever. He was only a little surprised she happened to own one herself, but his eyes brightened all the while.

"Not holding back tonight?" He let out an amused whistled, leaning back into the sofa.

"I haven't worn it in a while," she said matter-of-factly, not letting a blush settle on her face as she climbed over the couch to take a seat beside him. "My dad got in for me when he was stationed in Tokyo. It still is a little big on me." The girl raised her arm, the silken sleeves tumbling over it like a waterful, reaching for her lap.

Maisie provided some distance automatically when she sat, a cushion on the couch separating the two. She twitched towards him, wobbling a bit as if to settle in late, but did doing nothing more. Her short hair, which had amended and dried since she had vanished into her room, bobbed with the slight movement.

"Here," she sat, snatching the remote from his hand. "Let me choose something that doesn't suck." She abandoned the channel, and live television altogether, skipping over her roommate's favorites, Jane's history documentaries and Tabitha's WWE subscriptions. A few taps into her own menu, and there it was, Yuri on Ice. She was in the middle of season two and meant to keep watching. She'd kill two birds with one stone.

"I'm not starting over for you," she said curtly, manually softening her features after the fact, and pressed play.

He scooped a few pieces of popcorn up between the tips of his fingers, eying the girl a she plopped into the complete other end of the sofa, leaving a heavy empty space between them. Stubborn. Liam thought little of it anyways, munching away at his snack and glancing at the tv. Two older men, ice skaters, their gold rings shimmering in every frame as they couched on some little turd.

"You're into sappy stuff?" The red-head mused, not caring to catch up anyways. He instead made good use of the cushion between them, stretching out and plopping back, swinging his legs over the end of the couch. He made himself comfy, setting the bowl off onto the coffee table and staring back up at her from below, a hint of a smirk touching his smile. He searched her face, trying to get a good read on her. "That figures."

"I'm into good writing," the girl barked. She watched him stretch out, more or less to her thigh, to which she recoiled closer to the arm of the sofa and pressed a palm gently to his cheek. "This is a classic. The Japanese known how to write characters, sometimes better than Western shows." Maisie's stomach growled, as if on cue with the completion of her statement. The popcorn was tantalizingly close, but there was someone in between her and the snack. And he was kind of the worst.

Without asking, the girl leaned over Liam, doing her best to be as nudgy and pushy as possible. The hand on his face pushed further into it, almost as leverage, and came up to cover his eyes as she leaned her body over him, the silk fabric dangling over his face. She stretched oh-so-closer, and finally snuck a few popcorn pieces, the butteriest off the top. All the while, her attention drew towards the screen, the climax of an important scene that was playing out before her.

It was hard not to laugh then when, admittedly, it was far too much fun for him closing in on her personal bubble. He winced against the palm of her hand, squishing his smile as she dug into his cheek. "I fwind that hard to bewieve," Liam muttered back up at her. It was almost insulting. The west had some of the best damned classics in the world, sure as Hell more-so than some story about gay cartoon ice skaters. But he wouldn't be the one to say that out loud, not in front of her anyways.

His head as forced aside as she was suddenly leaning over him, pushing her weight into her arm and digging head head deeper into the cushion of the couch. Ow. "Blondie, what the -" He pushed one hand up blindly, brushing up against the fabric of her kimono and the ends of her hair. He grabbed away blindly, looking for some some place to pry her away. "Get off me!"

In truth, she hadn't really noticed her steady pressure onto his face until it was too late. Flailing arms began to reach for her, pulling and pushing and grabbing. Her short hair managed to become the victim of this. Before she had much time to react, slackening her palm, a hand pulled at her blonde locks, and down she went.

She caught herself, both palms planting themselves on either sides of his head. She looked at his from a few inches above, with her eyes lined up to his mouth, his eyes to her mouth. His lips were stern, long, a man's lips, like her father's. She watched him in this upside-down perspective, enamored for a moment once more, caught in the cricket time of the dance they shared. The moon shouted its presence through the window.

Her mind went to shout at him for pulling her hair, but her hands grasped the sides of his face, and she put her lips to his. She'd seen it in Spiderman before...

It didn't make it any easier.

Liam felt the short locks twist up around is fingers as he gripped onto her, urging her off of him, for whatever good that did. Maybe he'd been more difficult about it than he'd meant to. He let out a low grumble as she shifted her weight around over his head, finally settling it seemed hanging over him, palms far more gentle against the sides of his face. Laying there with her now, gazing back up at her, he couldn't help but notice how breathless he'd felt so damn all of a sudden. The red head couldn't hold back a stupid, crooked smile.

She looked... hell of cute then. Her face had been so pale and flushed red before from the cold, but now that he saw her in the dim blue light, it was like a whole different story. He loosened up his grasp, running his fingers through her hair, admiring the soft glow of white against her skin. If Maisie hadn't been the first to move then, he wouldn't have been far behind. Her lips were soft and cool against him. Liam found himself pressing back with a fierce kiss of his own. "Hey -" He'd started to try and say something the moment he could catch a breath, anything, but the words were caught away.

Talking was stupid anyways. With a vigorous grin, the Summer was quick to move, grabbing away at the sides of her waist and yanking her up, twisting out of the way and pulling the girl beside him. He barely managed to sit up, staring her down in her new place, a mere narrow space between him and the back of the couch. He brought his thumb up, brushing it against her lips and taking her wrist with his free hand. Liam let the silence linger, embracing the heavy tension in the air before closing the distance between them again wit another kiss.

Maisie let the silence linger as well. What else could she say? His hands were sudden and she let out something of a yelp when her pulled her up, but no words. No biting retorts. There was no longer a time for that. The girl looked in the eyes of her smoking buddy, this guy that she had always thought of as a mule, a paper supply, someone to tease whenever possible. That was no longer the case. He was more than that. He was more than that...

She let him kiss her again. "Mmm..." she murmured dully, pressing against the couch. Her free hand, uncertain where to go, rested on the back of his neck, fingers pushing through his hair. Ginger. Its funny how short it was between her mocking that hair to her running her hands through it, kissing him. The prospect of what was happening kept rewinding and playing itself again and again like an old tape. Each time made her heart beat faster, her chest fireworking with excitement.

It was thrilling enough to be able to be close to her like this. It brought on that familiar light-headed rush, that slight ache that called for him to run his hand wherever he liked, if he could afford to lack the self-control then. Patience. He had to remind himself again and again, not to rush things too fast or else it might all fall apart and end with him sleeping on the floor. God damn, if she wasn't making it difficult. Her fingers were cool on his skin, every little sound she made was exciting, so damned exciting, it didn't fail to cause his breath to hitch close against her.

Liam grabbed away at her shoulder, pausing to chew at his cheek. Slow. Easy. He thumbed away at the soft silk of her kimono, eying the sleek robe in careful thought - if only for a mere moment. It'd taken little more than one last look on her soft face to pushed her back again, resting her back onto the couch and climbing over her. The red-head grinned, a rare sight, his lips moving to attack away just below her ear, trailing his kisses down the sides of her neck.

So much for calm and collected.

While Liam was fighting to stay collected in the heat of the moment, Maisie was fighting not to slap him in the face. Her wrist twitched and twisted as he began to thumb at her kimono, her heart beating fast enough to propeller out of her chest. And then he pushed her down, and it was too much. She covered her eyes with her palms, the heat that seemed to be radiating from her face. The whole room was warm, like the thermostat was cranked up.

Her neck was sensitive as glass, trembling with each kiss he gave her, and as he went lower, she placed a hand in his hair, giving him a light push. One still rested over her eye, the other peering at his forehead, uncertain and flustered. Her left leg began to tentatively push out, further and further, her foot managing to knock the remote control off the coffee table and onto the floor.