Slowly

A Trent and Daria love story.

Daria's heart thumped wildly against her chest as she tried to focus on anything but the fact that Trent was amazing, and awesome, and perfect, and standing just a few feet in front of her. No, Daria was not thinking about that. Nope. Not at all. Oh, look, a crack in the floor. Fascinating. The blush inevitably crept to her cheeks like it used to. Obviously not being around Trent regularly had reduced her ability to feign nonchalance. Trent picked at something under his nails, and scratched his head. He picked at his nails again. The silence dragged on and Daria just wished she could say something, like: How's the band? How are you? I love you...or something like that.

"So...how are you, Daria?" murmured Trent. He breezed easily into the kitchen, while Daria followed meekly, and opened up the fridge. He sought out his food while he waited for her response. Daria swallowed a dry lump in her throat.

"I'm good. Aside from the fact that I'm back in Lawndale," Daria managed to say. Trent chuckled, and coughed.

"I'd leave," Trent offered conversationally, "but Mystik Spiral is still going and I can't let the guys down." Trent pulled out some lettuce, carrot and meat from the fridge. "I've had the opportunity to leave, but I just can't bring myself to do it...y'know?" Daria watched in surprise as Trent grabbed some bread, and assembled himself a sandwich. "I need to stay here."

"For the band," Daria reiterated. Trent looked up from his sandwich and stared long and hard at Daria with those black holes of eyes.

"Something like that," Trent said vaguely. Daria looked away from his gaze, heart flopping, and brought up a new topic.

"I've never seen you prepare food before," she stated, gesturing at the sandwich. Trent took a bite and chewed, looking thoughtful. And adorable. The sound of his munching filled the otherwise quiet room.

"I realised a while ago that you can't always order in. You have to grow up sometimes." He munched on his sandwich, his voice muffled. "So, you excited for the party?"

"Party?" Daria repeated.

"Yeah, Quinn's party." He popped a bit of stray lettuce back into his mouth with his finger.

"Oh, that. I was considering that to be more of a meeting for the local Idiot Club." Daria joked. Trent laughed and coughed again, putting his half-eaten sandwich on the bench. He walked forward and patted her on the shoulder. Daria stared at the sandwich. It was easier. Sandwiches don't have eyes like deep pools that you could stare into for hours. Or do they? Daria was sure she'd seen something on the Sick Sad World about live sandwiches.

"You're still funny, Daria." He gazed down at her, expressionless. Daria chanced a look at his face and regretted it. His eyes smouldered quietly and intensely as they always did. "Don't ever change." He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Daria's face fluttered bright red at the contact, no matter how innocent. Daria was frozen to the floor, though she felt like she should be melting. Daria knew she had to speak at some point. Or, do something. The longer she just stood there like a statue, the weirder this encounter would be.

"I...uh, um...you...uh..." Daria stuttered incomprehensively. Trent picked up on the fact that he had freaked her out, and the metaphorical walls around his heart shut down.

"Well, I should get to bed Daria. I have work in the morning." Trent said, while mentally slapping himself for his forwardness. One of these words snapped Daria out of her convoluted reverie.

"Work? You have band practice, or something?" Daria little expected the next response.

"Nah, man. I have actual work. I work at a music store. Sells CDs, and instruments. I even tutor people in guitar. It's cool..." Trent trailed off, and he cast a look at the stairs. Daria's eyes involuntarily followed his gaze. Trent caught her eye, and she blushed, wondering what he was thinking. Wondering if he knew what she was thinking. Wondering if she should come upstairs with him. Wondering if- "You should go, then Daria. I'm beat." Trent interrupted, shuffling his feet a little. Daria was a little taken aback. She headed to the door slowly, a little drag in her step. She opened the door, and was half outside when she turned back.

"Trent?" She said softly. Trent was partially up the stairs when he turned to see what Daria had to say. His eyes had narrowed slightly, probably because he could barely keep them open.

"Yeah, Daria?" He waited. It's not too late Daria! Just say nothing, and walk out! That's all you have to do! Just walk out! Daria screamed at herself in her head, and hesitated.

"...I've missed you." It felt like a horrible confession, snaking its way through her mouth. It felt as though admitting these words could cause gasps and shudders from everyone around her, and would lead to her to be confined where she couldn't infect others, but Trent smiled.

"Me too. But about you." They both looked at each for a long moment. Unfortunately, neither could read each other's mind, and didn't know that they were thinking the exact same thing: I love you. The situation grew awkward, and Daria excused herself, closing the door gently behind her. Trent stared at the door long after she'd left, and sighed when he was apparently convinced she wasn't coming back in unexpectedly. Trent plodded up the stairs, somewhat morosely. How could he tell her? How could he prove to her that he was not the boy he once was; that he was a man now? That he could be depended on? That he was finally worthy of the enigma Daria Morgendorffer?

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Daria lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn't believe that after all those years; her feelings for Trent could just come in like an avalanche. It was stupid and immature, and yet she couldn't stop it. There was a soft knock on her door, followed by a very pointy, hard to listen to voice.

"Daria? It's me!" Quinn said shrilly. She opened the door. Quinn had changed drastically. Her hair was short, above her shoulders, and she wore just a plain, long-sleeved white shirt over her jeans. She wasn't wearing lipstick, and didn't reek of designer perfume. Could it be that Quinn was losing her grip on the material world? "Hey, Daria!" A pleasant greeting. She must want something. Daria considered her sister in the doorway, and decided a sarcastic reply was unneeded at this point.

'Hi, Quinn. Nice to see you." Okay, maybe it was a little sarcastic. Daria didn't move from her bed, but her head was tilted up to make eye contact. Quinn understood that to be an invite in. She sat herself on the bed and looked around.

"Yeah, your room is still all gross, Daria. Mum and Dad wouldn't let me change it, even though I said 'Mu-um, what if one of my friends was to see it?' I mean, I don't technically live here anymore, but I do come and visit and if my friends could see that I used to sleep in a room near this...disaster, it would just, eugh, I don't even know. Anyway, we start party prep tomorrow, I'm so excited. I got the old Fashion Club to come over and help as well! It's going to be so much fun, and we're going to...Daria?" Quinn's hands stopped moved energetically as she spoke, drifting to her sides. Daria had pulled her pillow from behind her head and had placed it on top of her face. It was a testament to the changes in Quinn's personality that rather than storming off, she gently touched her sister's arm with her perfectly buffed and manicured hand. "Are you okay, Daria?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Although they were closer, they weren't exactly sharing their secrets. Quinn eyes narrowed intuitively, and she flicked her ever-perfect hair.

"Mum and Dad said you went to see Trent." Quinn gazed at the pillow expectantly, as though it was going to sprout a mouth. But the pillow said nothing. "Your silence says a lot, y'know, Daria." Quinn's voice was lit with song and teasing. The pillow remained expressionless. Quinn kept on waiting, eyebrows raised and her pretty mouth curved up in an amused smile. "Well, okay, don't say anything!" Quinn stood up and walked away, but just as she reached the doorway she turned back and whispered, "Just so you know, Trent's coming over tomorrow to help set up! Night!" Her hair disappeared instantly from the doorway. Now even the pillow looked like it had an expression of chagrin.

(A/N) Hi. Sorry for the few typos I had in the last chapter! I've tried my best with this one, but I apologise if I've missed any.

Just a note about my use of "Mum". I'm Australian, and that's how we write the short version of Mother, just to clear that up with anyone

Well, I'd love some reviews, and pointers. Constructive criticism always accepted

Love, R-COTA.