Room 238, Saturday night

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If there's any weird emo happening- and it really is- there's actually a reason for it. Aeryn knows they'll be leaving Fandom soon, and then it'll be a matter of trying to acclimate to the real world where everything is normal and she can't even shoot anything when she just needs to. She's known it was coming for a year, definitely, but still, it feels really soon now. Because it is.

After yesterday's weirdness and actually voicing the thought that she might not be able to bring the Prowler with her, Aeryn just wanted to be by herself. When it gets dark, she finally heads back inside and into the room, taking her shoes off at the door.

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[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

And John went from fine to Annoyed a little over an hour. He hates not knowing what's going on but he's careful not to show this when she gets back.

Instead, he keeps his eyes on the television.

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"Hi," she says quietly, since he either didn't hear her come in or is ignoring her.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Hey," he says. "Some cold pizza's in the kitchen."

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"Thanks," she says, though she's not really hungry.

It's going to be one of those days.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

He sighs quietly but knows better to try and push now. It wouldn't do a thing.

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At the silence, Aeryn goes into the kitchen and gets a bottle of water from the fridge. She opens it, but just leans against the counter and doesn't do anything else with it.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

He finally looks over his shoulder to see what she's doing and says, "What're you doing?"

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"Nothing," she says, shaking her head but looking up at him.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

And now he knows how tonight's gonna go. Wonderful.

"Where've you been all day?"

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"Beach for a while. Junkyard. Went to check up on the Prowler," she says. She'd spent a lot of time in there, actually.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

He nods before turning back around. "Eat some dinner."

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Aeryn nods, but isn't sure how to respond to that, and doesn't move for a while.

"What did you do all day?" she asks finally.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Got my last class ready," he says. "Slept. Watched some television. Talked to my dad."

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Amazingly, the topic she chooses isn't one that worsens the emo anymore. "How is he?"

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Fine," he says. "Enjoying the weather. Sends his greetings."

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"Tell him I said hi when you talk with him next," she says. Short topic.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Will do," he says, nodding. "You gonna stand in the kitchen all night?"

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"I could," she says quietly. She might be trying to pick a fight. She doesn't even know at the moment.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

He frowns. "If you want, then."

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She's back to not saying anything. And soon when they have nights like this, she won't even have the option of going to knock on Rory's door, or heading down to the gym for distraction. Which is about the only reason she's not already doing just that.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"So, you're gonna stay in there all night?"

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"I don't know," she sighs. "Am I missing anything pressing?"

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Never mind," he says and he's *this* close to just stopping for the night.

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Aeryn, apparently set on proving a point, or something, puts the bottle down and placing her hands on the counter, pulls herself into a sitting position on top of it.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

He looks back and seeing her sitting in the kitchen calls it a damn night in his head. He's done for the night.

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She hasn't even noticed. Something about the fact that she's not right there by him when they're not talking actually makes her feel better. If she really wanted, she could stay here.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

After a moment, he flicks of the tv and gets up. "Going out."

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That's a surprise. It's rare that he's the one to leave. "Where?"

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Just out," he says, grabbing his keys. "Eat some dinner."

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She really just should have stayed out. "Have fun," she says, pulling her feet up onto the counter, though she barely has the room to do so.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Whatever," he grumbles and slams out the door.