in which the King of Hawkin's High falls for the town 'psycho'
or
where Dallas finally opens up to someone other than her dog
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All rights go to the creators, I only own my characters and their storylines.
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10th november 1983.
Almost two hours later they're still at it, Steve had successfully learned about a quarter of the terminology he needed to and they had now moved onto annotations.
Steve is leaning back against the sofa, Dallas is sitting on the floor beside him, legs crossed as she leans forward to look at his book played out on the coffee table.
There's a pair of glasses sitting on her nose, Steve has tried not to make a passing comment but he can't help it as he watches them slip again. He leans forward and pushes them up her nose making her push his hand away.
"Stop it." She comments without much thought as she keeps her gaze on his work.
He groans, head falling back with the lack of attention, "I suck at this. I'm never going to get it, Mrs Wilson may as well just kick me out of her class already."
"No, look," She sighs moving the books from her lap and shifting closer to him, lifting herself up to sit beside him, "For stuff like this you have to really..." She tilts her head to the side thinking of how to say it, "You have to imagine you're the poet."
She takes the book from him and grabs a pencil from the table, "So when she says, 'The woman is perfected', what do you think that means?"
As she says the word 'you' she pokes him in the arm with the non-led side of the pencil, Steve leans back with a sigh, one arm resting on the side of the sofa, the other resting on the back of it behind her, he lifts them both in a half-assed shrug, "I don't know, maybe she got an A in english."
"Harrington, be serious."
He runs his hands down his face, "What does it make you think?"
She sighs, raising a brow and he gestures for her to go on, "Well, Plath wrote this before she committed sucide, like, literally days before, this was her last poem, she uses past tense, as if she's already done it, it's finalised. The decision has been made, nothing's changed her mind, nothing will change her mind, nothing, she's going to kill herself and this is her way of telling us that no one can stop her, you know, she was- she was trying to tell everyone, but no one listened so she-"
She cuts herself off and clears her throat as she looks away, Steve watches her for a second as she grabs the glass of water to take a drink, "Want to uh- go outside? You know, take a break."
She swallows and quickly nods her head, "Fresh air, yeah, yeah, sounds like a great idea."
She stands quickly heading for the door, Steve grabs his jacket from the armchair and follows her outside keeping it tucked under his arm as he approaches where she is sat.
He takes a seat on the chair beside her, dropping his jacket beside him, her gaze is taking in the backyard, a few deck chairs, pool, privacy with a tree lined garden.
