With one hand on her tummy and the other loosely gripping the bannister, Cela stared down the staircases, half-remembering the incident.

Sigh.

That had been fun.

Before...

boys happened.

Before...

all this growing stuff.


She had her hair tied back in two messy braids today, and since she was on her way to meet up with Lyra and Anna and hopefully Vannie too, Cela was wearing a pretty dress, with the top few buttons undone and shoes.



Whenever Cel was by herself like this, she got all introspective and angsty. There was sooo much that wasn't right.

Sooo much that she didn't know how to deal with.

The staircase shifted and Cela just watched it from her spot at the very top where she and Garret had started their epic slide during their second year.

Plymouth was starting up the stairs, doing weird little bunny hops that were probably only amusing to him. He was on his way in from outside so his nose and ears were nice and pink. They matched his Evolette McKenna scarf that he'd wrapped up in.


Right foot, left foot, hop hop hop.



Right foot, left foot, hop ho -.


Plymouth faltered when the little figure at the top of the stairs caught his attention. He raised from his crouch 'about to hop' position to his full height (which was taller these days). Plymouth opened his mouth to say... something .... but realized he had nothing. So, he just looked at his... no. He looked at Cela.

Celandine just stared.

She stared and tentatively, after a moment or two, since Plymouth hadn't completed his little pattern...

-p, hop.

Then she bit her lip nervously and held herself deathly still.

"Wellllll, let's see."

Karma debated about where exactly to go. There was a staircase moving towards them now, but it was going down. Her eyes followed that staircase to see if the one attatched to it would go up, and they were in luck. "Quick, before this one moves..." She quickly darted down the staircase in front of them and to the other that was going up.

She certainly hoped Emiliano caught it with her in time. While she had been darting down, she noticed Cela skipping about, and then - dun dun dunnnnnnn. Plym was there too. Gasp. She looked back at Emiliano, with a look that meant they might want to take caution around them.

Right foot.

Plymouth hopped up one stair. It was just one of those things. Like, don't touch the red button. He just had to do the next step since Cela had.

But... "Do you want me to go ... and come back later?" Plymouth's first words to Cela, in literal months, were not what he had hoped they'd be. Forget what the had HOPED they would be. Regardless, he could go back down and find something to do until she was clear of the stairs.

Left foot.

Celandine shook her head slowly. She HATED the sight of his back. Hated it. She swallowed roughly and looked at her feet
Hop -

Plymouth hesitated this time. She wanted to play with him? Or... coincidence?

Hop, hop.


"Really Cela.. I can..." Go... He wished she'd look at him and maybe... give a clue as to what she wanted. Or maybe Plymouth needed big flashing red signs. He'd missed all the others on his journey with Cela, that was for sure.

Wibble.

Cela missed him calling her Celbell.

"No... don't go... please."

Right foot.

A left foot and a hop brought Plymouth close to the middle of the stairs - and much closer to Cela than he had been in ages. Bittersweet is what it was.


"If that's what you want." Plymouth shoved his hands down into his pockets, deep as they would go.

Hop hop.

"If you... don't want to... I... um..." Cela let out a little sigh.

"I miss you..."

And she made a study of the ribbons around her ankles after that admission.

Plymouth took the last step two steps left foot, right foot, without the hops. He couldn't hop with his hands in his pockets, not really.

What was he supposed to say that? Plymouth missed Cela, but it just... wasn't the same. She knew it wasn't the same.

"Cel... I.. its..." He looked down at her shoes, too. They were cute.


Of course they were.

Cela shrunk into herself and dropped to sit on the top step, bouncing her feet for the hop hop hop.

"Do you still hate me terribly?"

"Ugh... Cela. You.. you know," Plymouth gave her the look, "that I didn't, don't, and never will, hate you. You know that."

Plymouth hated the situation. He hated that he still liked her so much that it hurt. He hated that they couldn't hang out anymore or play or airnuzzle.

But, he most certainly did not hate Cela.


With obvious second-guessing, Plymouth eased down onto the stair below Cela, then slid across so she didn't have to touch her leg to him or touch him at all.

Emiliano hoped onto the staircase leading upwards just in time for it to move. Heights, yeah you guys know that they weren't his hit, nor the thing he loved the most, so you could easly see he closed his eyes as he jumped on then gasped for some air to later...uh oh...

Plymouth and Celandine Toussaint. Em looked back at Karma, quite puzzled at this time, he was in short knowledge about what had happened between those two, talking reals.

So, in order to maintain that little silence, he just placed his hands inside his pockets and didn't say a word.

Celandine was wibbling like crazy, especially when he moved away from her. She sort of clung to the bannister for moral support.

She could always trust the staircases, even when they moved they stayed the same.

"I don't know that. I don't." It was much like her family. Her parents ignoring her for days at a time. Not hating someone was like... indifference, which was sometimes worse.

And Plym hadn't spoken to her in too long to count.

... just like after her birthday.

"My feelings haven't changed, CellBell," Plymouth told his hands. "Just the situation. Just you. Just everything else." And if she didn't KNOW that... then maybe she was right to break up with him because he clearly didn't do a good job of showing her how he felt.

Celandine frowned.

"You... still... think you want to be with me?"

Frownfrownfrown.

Plymouth shrugged his shoulder at her. "Doesn't matter."

Celandine nudged him gently in the back with her foot.

"Does too."

"No, Cela, it doesn't. And that's fine. I suppose you're happy now though?" Plymouth just sat there, staring at his hands.

Frownfrownfrown.

Cela stomped her foot sulkily.

It mattered. A lot. And no she wasn't happy. And she couldn't be with Copernicus if Plymouth wasn't happy.

The frown gave way to a wibble and a sigh.

"It matters." She repeated, not answering the happy question.

Plymouth reached over and put his hand on top of her foot. He didn't want her to be ... whatever she was ... with him. He NEVER meant to make her so unhappy, to make her cry, and he certainly wasn't aiming for any of that now.


"It doesn't though, Cel. It doesn't. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"It isn't fine! It isn't!" Cela was sooooo close to just losing it and breaking down right there in a vulnerable little mess of heartbreak and hormones.

Did he think he was making things easier?

"Don't... Don't do whatever you're about to do. Please. Please please please don't cry again, Cela. Please." He could HEAR it in her voice... ugh. Plymouth picked his hand back up from her foot and folded them in his lap.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to her, turning to glance over his shoulder. "I don't think it's me that hates you, Cel. It's the other way around."

"Me... you?" Cela was incredulous. "I do not! How could... anyone..."

She wanted to be sick. She did.

Why was it worse to think about the possibilty of hating someone than of someone hating her? Because it was Plymouth?

"I miss you."