Ok, so like I said in my profile, my math teacher is trying to kill me with homework overload. It's midnight on the start of my weekend and I suddenly had the urge to write. So, sorry for the delay, and here it is. I promise I will continue to update, though they will be few and far between. Homestuck belongs to the huss, review if you like!
A pale brown, two story house. Small, yet comfortable, with dark red trim and a little porch extending out from the front door. I don't know how long I've been standing outside the door to Kurloz's house, hand raised to knock and dropped more times than I've cared to count. I'm frankly a little irritated at myself for being so nervous. It's just hanging out with a guy, a friend who saved my life. Why should I feel like a teenage girl, giddy and scared over her first date? I shake my head for the hundredth time then raise my hand, forcing my knuckles forward.
The door is opened before they touch the wood and Kurloz blinks at me, a hint of surprise flitting across his face before he grins at me. "Uh… Hi…" I say, the hand I'd raised to knock waving instead. He waves back, stepping out of the way to let me come inside. Neither of us say a word, though I know he can't, and I'm trying to keep the butterflies in my stomach from causing a horribly unfortunate mess. He shuts the door behind us, walking with me into the living room where a note pad and pen is waiting for him.
I smile when I see the note waiting for me. 'Thanks for coming over. Can I get you anything to drink while I make lunch? And how are you feeling today?' I look back at him, and catch the nervous expression, see the way he's rubbing the back of his head. I feel a bit better knowing I'm not the only one with nerves. The question would be, why is Kurloz nervous? Then again, why am I so nervous with him?
"Do you have any juice? Oh, and to answer your question, I'm fine." I say, shrugging. Kurloz nods, frowning a little before heading to the kitchen. I sit on the couch, wondering just what it is that my new friend will be making for lunch, though I can tell he's already got something simmering by the scent that perforates the house. Kurloz is back in a few minutes, a glass of what looks like cranberry apple juice in his hand and I smile as he hands it to me then starts writing on the note pad. I freeze up a little when he turns it to me.
'Where did you get that bruise on your cheek from?' reflexively I reach up to touch it a little then turn away.
"I dunno, it was there when I woke up." I lie, taking a drink. I don't really know him well enough to tell him about my mom, and the last thing we need is CPS to come snooping around… again. I refuse to let my siblings be taken away because of my mom's idiocy. Kurloz sits beside me for a moment, and I realize he's not buying the lie when he sighs then stands up, heading back into the kitchen. I feel a little bad, but at the same time I refuse to tell him the truth. So I stay there, drinking my juice, listening to him clang around in the kitchen. The smells wafting into the room practically have me drooling, and when at last Kurloz reappears my appetite is rearing like an excited horse. It doesn't really help that I skipped breakfast this morning though…
Kurloz places the plate of enchiladas, beans, and rice in front of me on the coffee table, along with a bowl full of salsa and a bag of chips. I grin at the salsa, our conversation from the night before coming to mind. "This the salsa you were making last night?" I ask, grabbing a chip, prepared to see what homemade salsa from fresh ingredients tasted like. At his nod I dipped the chip in and ate it, savoring the cool, slightly sweet sauce in my mouth. It had a little bite to it, but the flavor more than balanced it out and I gave Kurloz a thumbs up to show my appreciation before digging in.
He only grinned, tucking into his own food, and we sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the delicious bounty before us. After a while, and when most of the food was gone, Kurloz turned on a movie, one I had never seen before. I raised my eyebrow when I realized it wasn't a movie, but a TV show. A TV show about witch women fighting a demon. I was for some reason enthralled, particularly when one of them used telekinesis to strangle her ex-boss. Chuckling I looked over at Kurloz.
"What's this called?" He leans forward and writes 'Charmed' on his note pad, grinning at my happy little kid behavior. I nod, returning to watching the show while munching on chips and his salsa, barely aware of Kurloz glancing at me every now and then. We make it through five episodes before my phone starts going off, Aranea's 'stray cat strut' ring tone filling the air. Irritated, I flip it open as Kurloz politely pauses the TV. "What's wrong little sis?"
"You need to get home, now!" Her voice is rushed, panicked and I sit forward quickly, a faint thrill of fear running down my spine. The last time she'd had that tone in her voice, Eridan had to go to the hospital to get fourty eight stitches in his right arm.
"Why, what's wrong?" When she tells me, the bottom of my stomach drops away and I jump up. "I'll be right there. Don't move him till I get back!" I tell her softly, snapping my phone shut and turning to a very concerned Kurloz holding up the note pad, 'what's wrong?' hastily scrawled across it.
I hesitate for a moment, then sigh. "I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk very much, but I really have to go. My little brother was in a car accident with my mom…"