Feb. 18th, 2009

thewordofweb: (ties and blouse: by emptyboxes)
At around the age of two, I'd abandoned the thought of figuring out how to keep Sophie from sprinting away. Usually, she liked to lay claim to something. Other than building locked cabinets, that was about the only thing we learned and besides that, I tend to carry her more. "Now remember, kiddo, no stealing Uncle Skinny's things," I lecture as we stand by his door and I shift her in my arms, letting her play with my hair and idly agree.

"Skinny, you ready yet?" I call out, shifting the bag of things in my other arm while tugging on the ruffles of Soph's swimsuit.

"Uncle Skinny!" Sophie whines in addition. "Hurry up!"

"She'll mutiny. I believe her," I warn teasingly.

"What's mut'ny?" Sophie whispers against my ear and I busy myself fixing her hair (gaining control as she grows, some of Joe's consistency and style in the strands), whispering back the definition to her.
thewordofweb: (here and not there: by outoficons)
Realistically, I'm aware that Liebgott's had a conversation with Grant that points the way to success, but it's not like I'm on the same page as him. I missed chapters and I'm not able to forget it any more than the others are. So instead of leaving it alone, I grab another handful of books (War of the Worlds, Oliver Twist, and the Picture of Dorian Gray) along with a handful of Joe's cookies and more smokes before I head to the Compound.

It might have been nice if I weren't nervously fumbling with the books, flashing Grant a wary smile as I pick up the fallen book, juggling my notebook as well (in case he falls asleep and I have time to work on lesson plans).

"Grant, hey," I nervously greet, a smile on my face to try and take the edge off. "Got a hangover from all of yesterday's excitement?"


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