tampered | Log [In progress]

When; May 4, 2008
Rating; PG-13 (I always go with this to be safe)
Characters; Waverly and Mat
Summary; Waverly returns from her errands to a hung over Mat. (The muns aren't quite sure how this is going to go. Hell, the muses aren't sure how it's going to go.)
Log;

She wasn't trying to hide anything. It was probably the twelfth time she'd told herself this. It was a complete lie. She knew she was hiding as much as she could. The words had slipped out without her even thinking. Being forced, it was something that was a natural unpleasantness by now. Or had been.

All the forced companions and wandering hands had stopped many years ago. None of that had occurred since she left that life and betrayed everyone. Rachel, she'd probably ruined Rachael's life. Who knew what her father had done to her. She tried not to think about what had happened to those she left at home, but sometimes it crossed her mind. Sometimes in the dreams ...

She pushed open the door, her sleeves looking horribly dingy as well as the rest of her. Hair scattered out of her ponytail and face darkened by unidentifiable dirt. It had been a long day, and she didn't expect it to be over. Not after what she had said. She picked the door closed with her foot and set what she carried down, resting her body against the door to take in a few calming breaths.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She closed her eyes tightly. "It wasn't horrible, there were parts that I really did like." Did that make her a bad person? She never really knew.

"There are parts I like about it too. I don't ever want to be a bloody lord though." The thought always bothered him. At least here no one called him 'Lord Mat'.

"Were you planning on being one?" She refused to look up at him. It was, a strange feeling, being almost ashamed of your past.

"No." The answer was plain and simple. He had no plans to be one. It was too much bloody trouble.

"You you weren't planning to be one, then why even think about if you were one?"

He frowned and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. "In my world, I just want to be a gambling farmer. No title. But somehow I would up being a general and I am constantly given a bloody title. 'Lord Mat'."

She buried her face into his neck and hugged him more tightly. She couldn't help laughing, it was too amusing. "Maybe they want to make you God."

He gave her a half-hearted growl in irritation. "It's not funny. I don't want to be their flaming god or their flaming lord or their flaming general." He let out a deep breath. "Light..."

She hummed into his neck a bit. "Try not to think about it here then. What will happen there is something we cannot change."

That felt good... "I know. It's a bloody destiny thing. There's no escaping it. Though I did try. Believe me."

"Well, you managed to come here haven't you?" She kept her face buried in his neck, still talking into the side in a muffled voice.

"Yes. That was new." She really had no idea how good that felt. And she wouldn't unless he pointed it out too... But that's who she was.

No, she didn't, she was just trying to hide her blush from him. "But it's a good thing .... right." She hated second guessing herself, worrying that she really wasn't wanted. Wasn't wanted like every other time.

"You're worrying and second guessing again." He gently pointed the fact out as he poked her side. He couldn't understand why she did that. She really didn't need to.

She squirmed a little against him. That tickled. "Don't, that tickles."

Well that was new. A grin spread across his face as he poked her again. "Does it?"

She squirmed against him, trying to move away. "Stop that."

Naturally, he poked again as he held her against him. "I don't think I will."

She wiggled against him, trying to get away from his probing fingers. "Stop it, stop it!" She was already giggling.

"No. I still don't think I will." Grinning wider, he stopped poking in favor of flat out tickling her.

"Ah!" At this point she fell into fits of laughter. She couldn't help it. She squirmed on him, trying to break free of his devilish hands. "S-stop it! I can't ... breathe!"

Relenting, he laughed as he let her catch her breath. "That, I am going to remember. You're ultimate weakness aside from kisses."

She was breathing heavily now, resting her head against him. "Your weakness is kissing, not mine." He was so horrid, trying to kill her by tickling.

He gave her a side-long look of innocence. Though, it was true. He did like kissing. "Still...I'm not going to be forgetting that you are highly ticklish."

"No, I'll be lying in bed one day and you'll kill me with tickling." She pretended to pout and look hurt, though her actual mask wasn't up, it was all for show.