flourish_or_perish: ([an] looking away from you)
It was a little weird how little time it had taken Faye to pack up everything important enough to take with her; she'd been here for a year, now, but there still wasn't all that much. A few odds and ends -- gifts she'd been given, dresses she'd worn to parties that she wanted to remember. A betamax tape, which was the whole reason she was even packing up her things.

It had been a good year. She'd needed a year like this, and she could admit that to herself, now -- but she could also acknowledge that it had been like hiding. An okay sort of hiding. An allowed, necessary kind of hiding. She'd needed this time -- and, fine, these people -- in order to get to...here.

But on that note, as tempted as she was to simply throw her bag over her shoulder and sneak off to her ship, her year of -- getting to here (what other, more willingly introspective people might call growth) meant that she didn't and, moreover, couldn't.

So here she was, knocking lightly on Stark's door, half-hoping that he wasn't home, and half-knowing that even if he wasn't she'd go find him to say goodbye properly.

[for the alien mentioned and, yes, this is Faye's last post in Fandom!]
flourish_or_perish: ([an] smoker)
Faye had made a promise awhile ago, and today she was finally getting around to it. For as much of a ditz she could play at being, she was surprisingly handy.

So here she was, Friday morning while Stark was at class, casually installing a new lock on his door. A better lock. One that your average sneaky thief couldn't just get past. Not like the discarded lock on the floor over there, which had been laughably easy to get past, again.

But this new lock was pretty nice, if she said so herself. And it was nice to have a little project. Something to do with her hands besides smoking. (She was still smoking, too. Of course.)

[for the alien whose apartment she's in, but if you want to chastise her for smoking in this apartment building, the door is literally open!]
flourish_or_perish: ([an] looking away from you)
So, Stark had gone and ruined everything, and while Faye had done her utmost effort to ensure that he wouldn't keep saying things, that was not a sustainable plan, and those words were still...out there.

Which was why she'd laid awake, staring at the ceiling long after Stark had fallen asleep, and cobbled together a plan. 'Plan' being a fairly loose term, because this was mostly borne out of panic, but something of a plan nonetheless.

She crept out of bed. She wrote him a note and left it in the kitchen, where she was sure he'd find it. She apologized.

She stole his phone, because this was Faye, still.

And then she quietly wound her way down to the junkyard, climbed up into her ship, and took off to do something stupid and self-destructive, rather than actually take any time to consider that it might be all right if something nice happened to her for once.

[establishy but totally for broadcast!]
flourish_or_perish: ([an] appreciative)
So. Last night had happened.

There had been no pollen involved. Just a little breaking and entering (and a silly neighbor who Faye hadn't really minded seeing shirtless, but she wished had left earlier. Or not come at all, since he was the cops.) But it had, ultimately, turned out pretty well.

Meaning that Faye had woken up being...held. One might even call it cuddled. And -- this was now Faye's deepest secret. Deeper even than her debt or her real age or her identity -- she had liked it. And cuddled back, however briefly.

So, naturally, she'd kicked Stark out of his own bed and sent him off to the kitchen to make breakfast, before she could get too used to how much she'd liked it. And now, having taken her sweet time to get out of bed, she padded out to the kitchen in what was definitely Stark's shirt, because she wasn't just going to put on her own clothes again, okay? Not before breakfast.

"Are you actually making pancakes?"

[for the glowy guy. NO LIAM, NOT YOU, YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE YESTERDAY]
Page generated Jul. 21st, 2025 08:52 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios