His Invitation to Her

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The rest of her day is filled with happiness. She can't get her mind off of Jack. The things he did....the things he said to her! They never left her mind. She finds herself so absorbed in this romantic fantasy that she is devastated when the time comes to return to Finklestein. Every ounce of her wants to visit the Skellington Manor and see if Jack will open up for her, but she talks herself out of it and walks in the direction of the Tower.

The door is unlocked, and the rest of the place is quiet as she goes in. She is about to creep upstairs before she hears the Doctor's wheelchair buzz in. She turns around and smiles nervously. The Doctor isn't too happy. He looks scornful, but says nothing. He starts drumming his fingers against the controls of his wheelchair. It's the only sound that interrupts the silence - otherwise, things are uncomfortably quiet.

She shifts her feet and looks away from him. "I'm-"

"I don't want to hear it," He dismisses. "In fact, I don't want to talk to you at all. Go back to your room."

She climbs the ramp without another word. When she rounds the upper corner, she peeks down. He's still in the center of the room, with his large head in his hands. He isn't weeping, merely, rubbing his temples. A feeling of guilt churns in her stomach as she disappears into her room.

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It takes an hour before she leaves the confines of her room. The guilt won't leave no matter how hard she tries. She shouldn't be feeling so sorry for Finklestein - he is the reason she left. But it isn't in her nature to make those around her feel upset. Especially when she's the cause. She's careful walking into his laboratory, making her presence known once she comes in. The Doctor looks up from his work and shakes his head at the sight of her. He opens his duck-like mouth to scold her for leaving her room, but the ragdoll stops him before he can.

"I...wanted to say I'm sorry." He tries to argue but she quickly adds, "I took advantage of your trust, and it was wrong of me. I hope you can forgive me."

He has a look of apprehension as he stays there, as if he hadn't been expecting an apology. He goes to say something but shuts his mouth, sitting back in his wheelchair and tapping the side of his face. She takes his silence as a cue to leave, but when she turns to the door, his hand grasps her arm. He's holding her down, and once she stops, he lets go. He opens the hatch to his brain and scratches at its surface in thought, looking at her carefully.

"Where did you go?" He asks.

She grows nervous at the question, and lies on the spot. "The store."

"No, not that." He sits forward. "Where did you go? For the night? You didn't stay at anyone's house, did you?"

"No." She shakes her head innocently. "I...slept on the streets."

He looks at her worriedly. "Did anyone see you?" He asks. "Jack?"

"No one," She replies.

He sighs in relief, shutting his hatch and patting its smooth surface. He tenses and waves a finger at her. "-Don't you do that again! You know what kind of impression it gives others when I have to go and look for you?"

She shakes her head. Finklestein must think she's being sarcastic and dismisses her, sighing loudly. "Honestly, girl....sleeping on the street? I'd have expected that from any of those people down in Town, but not you."

She doesn't bother arguing and leaves. She's interested in reading today, but not those complicated books the Doctor assigns her. She's interested in engaging herself in romance fiction, hopefully a full book and not the fairy tales she's read countless of times now. She grabs one from her shelf and spreads it on the bed. For the hours she will spend reading characters falling in love. She finds every situation similar to how she feels with Jack - imagining herself as the main character while the story progresses.

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