Forbidden Things || Cobra Kai

13 Full of Thoughts

The last place Demetri expected to find himself on a warm summer's day was in a girl's house.

The girl in question was the pink haired Penelope. She was sitting opposite of him on her living room couch, a bowl of candy between them, and one of those creepy stop motion kids movies he never really liked as a kid playing on the TV. He knew this was what they were going to do, she had invited him over to watch this specific movie and he'd agreed to it because he had nothing better to do. However, he wasn't really paying attention. He didn't even really remember the name of the movie they were watching, but he hadn't known what else to say. No didn't feel like a real option, not because she had begged him or given him no choice, but because he had never been invited into a girls house to do anything ever. It was different from delivering his mother's food because they probably felt like they had to let him in at that point, which didn't feel good upon reflection. So he had said he would come watch a movie he knew he wouldn't be all that into because this was probably the only time it would ever happen for him.

He could hardly pay attention to the movie, anyway. Aside from it being creepy, just as he always thought these kinds of movies to be, he was more distracted with Penelope. She was slouched on the other side of the couch, wrapped in a pink Hello Kitty throw blanket that matched her hair but clashed with the rest of her style. It gave him the impression she was one of those girls that like all the spooky and cute things in the world, which was a little terrifying to him. He knew nothing about either of those things; Hello Kitty certainly wasn't in his wheelhouse, nor were any of these creepy movies she seemed to love.

She was watching the screen, but she didn't seem to process what was going on. He couldn't tell what emotion was in her eyes, but it was hard for him to focus on that, too, because of her dark makeup. It was only around her eyes, but it was still a little jarring to him. He knew she had what appeared to be an affinity for the gothic, in literature and clothes, but he hadn't realized just how much she liked it. She was dedicated to the style from what he could gather, if the eyeshadow had anything to say about it.

But that wasn't the issue. He didn't care what she wore or what kind of movies she liked. It didn't make her into someone he didn't want to befriend. If anything, it made her all the more interesting, he just didn't know how to relate.

No, the issue was the deep look in her eyes. Her big, brown eyes that were usually so soft, he thought they were pillows and someone could sink into them. The look they held currently was unlike anything he had seen in them yet, and it was a little off putting. They were still welcome and warm, but they looked... lost.

The first thing he found out about Penelope and Frankie was how their eyes were the same but wildly different. They shared similarities, but had their differences, and the same went for their eyes despite them being the same color. Their irises might as well have been carbon copies of each other. He thought that it was odd for cousins.

Where Penelope's eyes were warm and summery, Frankie's eyes were cold and hard; Penelope's were bright and Frankie's were somehow dark despite being the same shade. Frankie had clearly built a wall, starting from her body language that cut off as many people as it could and it continued all the way up to her eyes, which warded off anyone else who dared to come too close. She glared with the might of a thousand daggers at the ready. Penelope was less guarded by many leagues. Her eyes were her windows into her emotions. He knew so because at one point in time, Eli had used his eyes more than his voice, but because they were two different people, Penelope spoke with them differently. She also spoke with them entirely. Her eyes were the gateway to everything that she was and she let people in so she could simply talk to them.

And even with all of that information, he still couldn't read the emotion in her eyes. He couldn't decide if it was distress or some level of upsetness. Her pout was a little more pouty and overall she looked sad, but her eyes didn't appear sad to him. He couldn't pinpoint it and it was driving him crazy.