Real-ish

Cora Is A Badass

Damian~

Drake is shaking like a leaf as he sits down. I walked in when I heard the door open. Hearing this has to be better than Grayson trying to convince me he can do 200 push-ups within a minute. I left him to do his daily workout regiment.

Now I watch silently from the corner as Cora begins the questioning.

"So Tim, how'd it go?" She asks politely. 

She's a polite person I've found. The kind of poise that comes naturally when you've grown up around it. She's informal most of the time, but she's not a heathen to be around either. Her aversion to crude language might even be endearing.

Drake has a somewhat distant look in his eyes and he won't look at either of the two others on the couch. He clears his throat before answering.

"It was fine. She's very nice." He says quickly.

He's hiding something, and it shows. I'm sure even Todd could see it, yet the imbecile says nothing, his eyes remaining impassive. Cora speaks up, however.

"Okay, so do you like her or...?" She asks. We'll have to work on her interrogation skills. I almost give away my location with a sigh.

Drake tenses. Intriguing. "Uh, ahem, she's nice. I don't know if I'd go as far as to say that I like her- I mean I like her as a person! But in terms of romantic feelings, I uh, don't know?" He states. Todd frowns, most likely coming to the same conclusion as me.

Drake was using her for information, and he feels guilty about something he learned.

"Okay Timbers that's all we needed to hear, go play with your computer or something." Todd dismisses. I sigh heavily as I come out of the shadows. Drake is already halfway up the stairs.

"Well, that was boring. I had hoped you lot would be more entertaining than Grayson," I say, feigning indifference. Cora looks a little put down by my statement. I ignore the pang in my chest at that.

"Well, if you're bored I'm sure I can find something for you to do. What do you usually do when you're bored?" She asks, brightening up quickly. I have noticed she prefers to remain bright. And by bright, I mean the sun seems irrelevant when she smiles.

"Usually, I'm training or drawing. I don't have many hobbies." I explain. She nods and puts her hand up to her mouth. She does this when she's thinking. I know this because it's important to know who you're living with. I'm simply observant.

"I got it! Okay, come with me." She says, springing up from the couch and grabbing my arm. I allow her to drag me along, despite how light her hold on me is.

She leads me out the door and maintains her soft grip on my arm. The sun is getting low in the sky but she walks with confidence. She strides as if not thinking about it, but she's graceful nonetheless.

She must be a dancer. I hope she isn't planning to ask me to dance. I don't care how gentle she is, I will not do anything of the sort.

It seems I was not the only one aware of her hand on my arm. She snatches it back to her as if my skin burned. Her cheeks are red and she clasps her hands together behind her back.

"Sorry." She mutters. I raise a brow. It wasn't painful, and she has to know that.

"Why?" I question. She slowly raises her eyes to mine.

"What?" She asks. I frown.

"Why are you sorry? It's not as if you hurt me." I implore. She seems to think about it.

"I guess I'm just sorry to invade your personal space. Feel free to tell me to back off." She smiles sheepishly. Still, it's bright and it adds a kind of life to her face that I wouldn't mind painting if I could.