the progress project [3]

5 6

fiona

the ring shines on her finger, and she taps christian with it. "you follow me everywhere and you know everything about me, it appears. do you..."

"do i...?" he asks, setting the milk jug down to look at her.

"do you know where they... where they buried him?" she glances outside, seeing that it's nearly 10 p.m. "we don't have to go. i mean, i know it's late and i know my parents are upstairs and you don't want to go without their permission, and i know that i have to move on, but—"

"we can go."

she fiddles with the ring on her finger. christian is good. he has a kind heart underneath his complex surface, and a reserved smile that he rarely shows. his blonde hair is short and clean, and he towers over her with his tall structure. he is... he isn't elijah. he will never be elijah. and... fuck, why is she thinking like this? she isn't ready for a relationship, and christian hasn't even done anything to show that he's even remotely attracted to her. fuck.

"lead the way," she says, her body made of lead.