Well, it looks like it expanded into something bigger. Woo!
And I've even got vague shimmers of a plot in my head. Dear God...
Thanks to the Black Butler forums for their constant support, and Brichan for checking it through for spelling things (Even though this isn't her ship...)
Lines
The biggest concern on Snake's mind that December morning was whether he had left the heating lamp for his snakes running or not. Unlike a stove, the concern wasn't about having it turned off, but having it turned on. He usually turned it off when he slept, because he wanted to save electricity and he didn't mind have his pets sleep on him anyway. However, Snake couldn't remember if he had left the lamp on when he went to school.
He must have, Snake reasoned with a firm nod to nothing out the window. He left his wallet by the switch specifically so that he would remember, and he did have his wallet with him. So the lamp had to be on. Right. Oscar and Goethe were definitely warm and comfortable.
"Good morning."
Snake's train of thought stopped cold.
Snake's bus route tended to take student out around the city. They would start in the city, then out past fields, through some of the nicer parts of the city, and back around to the school. As such, Snake just happened to take the bus with Elizabeth Middleford, who lived a ten-minute car ride away.
Throughout his entire life, Lizzie had never acknowledged him. Never seemed to notice that they were in the same class and the same bus. It wouldn't be hard to converse or make small talk. Perhaps they ought to be friends? Maybe he could talk to her about how crowded the bus was, or how loud the dogs could be, or how nice the oak tree was on the corner of Sixth Street and Sage avenue?
The point was that Elizabeth Middleford hadn't spoken to Snake on the bus for nearly ten years, but there she was: On the bus, saying good morning to him. Snake was almost certain that it was him that Lizzie was talking to because she looked him in the eye and even smiled. Smiled. Before he could say anything back, Lizzie flounced away to sit with a friend she had seen near the back.
Snake sat, stunned, and thought a while as the bus carried them to school. He thought about his heat lamp, his snakes, and the fact that an entire test on the Victorian era was happening in school today. Most of Snake's thoughts, though, were focused on getting a good morning from Elizabeth Middleford.
He thought of what he could have said back. "Hi" was too jaunty for him. "Hello" was old-fashioned and formal, but closer to his style. "Good morning" would have certainly worked. It worked for her, after all. She might have sat down with him. She might have discussed that oak tree with him. He could have talked to her about Ciel Phantomhive, since that was a topic she seemed to enjoy pursuing with people.
Even while he was wrist-deep in the detritus in his locker, Snake's wheels were still spinning on the slickness of Lizzie's "Good morning." He had begun to ponder her motives. Why did she talk to him? What was going on? He didn't know, he couldn't guess. Lizzie wasn't mean, so he knew that she wasn't trying to trick him, but why now? Why would she say good morning on a cold December morning after the dogs had been loud and his snakes were potentially freezing to death?
The suspense was eating him alive.