Completed Honesty is a One-Way Gate to Hell

[Everleigh Ebersol]

[FATE thread // dialogue focused thread please c: I’m trying to get into a habit of writing shorter posts!]

Everleigh looked around the room, her games all set up. It was a free period and it was often this time that she would get her visitors. Initiates she hardly cared for or the occasional few she did like. Regardless, the moment they stepped through those doors, it was time to play. On the shelf was an assortment of dice, cards, stones, boards, whatever someone could think of.

A lot of it was made by her hand. A fact people tended to forget about.

After all, it meant she knew her pieces better than anyone else. Such as her loaded die, or her cards with secret symbols that could be seen if touched in a certain way with enough body heat, or—

Everleigh’s thoughts faded as her eerily bright violet eyes moved over to look at the person who had just stepped into the candle-lit room. The flickering flames making her wolfish smirk look dangerous with deep shadows and gleaming white teeth. Somehow, it still failed to capture just how dangerous the poison eater was.

“Didn’t think you’d come here.” Everleigh said easily to the person across from her.

 

[Henk]

"Don't sound so disappointed, Ev."

Henk had heard about Everleigh's games-- You couldn't live at the Academy and not know about them; some of the stories that had come out of something called the 'punishment game' were still talked about by Initiates as though they were legends passed down for years. Henk had always found that funny, but he'd never put any real thought into the stories.

So when one day his curiosity, at last, found the better of him, Henk found himself rather astounded by the aura the place gave. It looked... not like the academy at all. And Everleigh herself looked more in her element than she ever did on the field.

"The birdies have been singing about this place for quite a while now. I had some free time tonight, thought I'd swing by and see what kind of racket you've been making. Impressive, really. The Proctors know about all this?"

Henk knew the answer, even as he took the initiative to sit across from her. If the Proctors did know, they didn't care. This was all under the table.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

There was a slight shrug from the purple initiate, her smirk filtering into a easy-going grin.

“I haven’t been caught in the act yet.” Keyword there. Everleigh never let her paranoid fade away, even so close to graduation, even after the revolution. She was constantly alert no matter how aloof she could look. “Plenty of initiates have tattled once they lost a finger or a few teeth, but if there’s no evidence then it’s all he said, she said. I make sure to keep everything in check.”

And because Henk was one of the few she liked, although no always and it had only happened after their misadventures on that pirate ship to Cerak At’thul, she pointed playfully to all the little nooks and crannies she could swiftly hide her paraphernalia. With a slight tilt of her head, she asked the most obvious question.

“So do you to gamble, Henk?”

Henk

 

[Henk]

It would have been more in Henk's character to make some insightful comment about how all of them gambled every time they left the academy, but Everleigh didn't want to hear that, he was sure. "I've a feeling you've taken more pride and dignity here than flesh and blood. I've heard of some of your punishments." Everleigh could be sadistic at times, but she wasn't malicious. Not usually anyways.

Henk honestly rather enjoyed her presence.

"I've played Liar's Dice with the Orcs in Bhathairk, but not beyond that, no." There was one other time, but... Ev didn't need to know about that. The more green she thought he was at this, the better the advantage for him. Even so...


"You don't have to be coy with me, Ev. I'm not so naive to think your trade is fair play." Everleigh just didn't seem the type not to take advantage of who and what she was to win. That would have gone against what they'd been taught. "The real game is whether I can catch you with your pants down, so to speak."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh laughed, turning her back to Henk for a moment to survey her items as he spoke.

“I’ve played fair plenty of times.” Everleigh said, honest. “Most of the time I play fair, actually. Even with the games I have created, I have lost. If I never lost, no one would ever come, right? But, sometimes people think they have figured out a game and come back, expecting to do this or that to try and make it so they can only win.” There was a slight pause. “I have far more fun catching other people cheating.” The poison eater admitted.

“And that’s when it’s time to get serious. So. You’ve played liar’s dice? Do you usually go for dice games? I have plenty we could have fun with.” She said looking over her shoulder. “And I’ll let you inspect all the equipment you’d like to your heart’s content.”

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk shrugged his shoulders. If she claimed to play fairly more often than not, Henk had no reason not to believe her. It was rather in her character to try and knock people down a peg who got too big-headed. Sliding back in his seat, He crosses his arms over his chest and smiles. "Always the karmic one, aren't you Ev? I guess I shouldn't try and put one over on you then, tempting as that is now."

He'd never been much of a cheater, but the idea of going tit for tat with somebody who considered themselves an expert was a tempting premise. "I've played liars dice with orcs. The game takes on a whole new intensity when the person sitting across from you has a temper and a battle-hammer. Please, though, recommend a game for us to play. I'm a quick learner, and it's always nice to expand my horizons."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Orcs are sore losers.” Everleigh agreed. “But it’s fun to play strip poker with them.” She said, referencing their time back on the Pasiphae and the pirate ship together.

Everleigh grabbed three dice off the shelf, examining them briefly before turning around to sit down across from Henk. The table between them wasn’t particularly long or wide, just a bit bigger than their school desks once they were in their final years at the academy. She set the three dice, one white, one black, and one red on the table and then looked at Henk.

“Before I explain my version of higher or lower, let me ask you a question, Henk.” Everleigh said, her lips quirking up into a smile despite her mauve gaze being quite serious. “Do you believe in fate or destiny?” Her face was a blank slate, the ultimate poker face, unreadable and unflappable— something not even first level dreadlords could manage.

Henk

 

[Henk]

She actually got a snort of laughter from the scarred face of the man across from her. "I don't know a damned thing about strip poker, Orcish or otherwise. Suppose I'll have to take your word on that." Henk wasn't sure whether Everleigh's beauty would be a benefit or a disadvantage in such a game. On one hand, it would certainly offer motivation, on the other hand, it would be a distraction...

Why was he thinking about this?

Everleigh laid out her dice on the table, and Henk bit his cheek as he eyed them thoughtfully. "Bit of a strange, not to mention heavy-handed question to ask before a game. Though I'm sure you have your reasons." Henk didn't think too hard about it, leaning back in his seat. "To an extent, I do. Something steers us all, something that we cannot see. That is the only explanation for how some things come to be. I would not be sitting in front of you right now if not for fate, Ev."

What was the angle, here?

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Fate. An interesting choice in Everleigh’s opinion.

“I don’t believe in fate.” Everleigh said plainly. There wasn’t a right or wrong answer, Everleigh was no dictator that believe everyone should think as she did. If anything, she had yet to meet anyone who she felt compared to her mind. Although… well, Henk was a bit more inward and thoughtful than some of the other initiates like Edric or Kalix. “Lots of gamblers fiddle with the idea of fate or destiny though.” Everleigh continued.

“Like when the odds are against you and yet you somehow are able to turn it around and win. Or when it comes to chance. Especially chance although I’ve learned that’s when it’s easier to cheat.” She hummed. “I do have a fun tarot card game that’s a thrill.” She said absently, and then without missing a beat she held up the dice.

“Right, so this is the game. Three dice with six sides. You’re going to roll all three of them. The two highest you keep and you’ll discard your lowest. Before I roll I’m going to guess whether I will roll higher or lower than you, much in the same manner and my lowest roll will be discarded. Then we switch off. One round is counted as both of us making a guess on whether its lower or higher. The winner is decided if someone guesses right. If both of us guess right or if we’re both wrong then that counts as a tie.” She glanced up at Henk. “We can do a practice round before we start betting anything if you’d like.”

Henk

 

[Henk]

It was a somewhat fascinating insight into Everleigh's mindest that was laid bare to him. While Henk had accompanied her on several missions now, the chances they'd had to sit and talk had been few and far between. There was something to her, though, a side that was not so easily observed that the Initiate found so fascinating and interesting.

Her thoughts ran far deeper than many could see. They looked only at the surface level. Henk did not fear traveling further, deeper within. As far as Everleigh was comfortable with, at least. He merely enjoyed the company.

"To be fair, I did specify 'to an extent'. We hold a great amount of power over where we end up. I merely think it's folly to believe fate doesn't sometimes twist things in one direction or the other." Henk watches her as she explains the game, reaching out unprompted to cup the dice in his hand. "Practice will only kill some of the wonder, let's begin."

With a small smirk, Henk rolled the dice.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Then, if you believe in fate so much,” Everleigh said slowly, the hair on the back of her neck starting to rise, gooseflesh beginning to show itself, “what about the revolution?” She gave Henk a hard stare, one that was unflappable and yet sinister all at once. Talking about the revolution on academy grounds tended to be a taboo topic depending on what was said. Initiates were designed to still be subordinate.

Everleigh had never been such a thing. The essence of the poison eater— the essence of femininity itself— was being uncontrollable.

“Because if it was fate then doesn’t that means we went through all that shit for nothing?” There was a harsh bark of a laugh, full of spiteful bitterness and irony, shortly cut off as she continued to speak. “You and I especially, Henk, look what they fucking did to us,” Everleigh displayed her hands, the duo of metal studs on either side of her middle fingers. “You know what these piercings mean, right? They didn’t do it because it hurt or we’re afraid of it, it wasn’t just a punishment— it was a reminder: our bodies belong to them. And they still do. After the revolution you’d think they would have removed them, but we still don’t have a choice. Just like exile, reserves or the guard aren’t a choice. It just seems like it is because in reality, they took away our futures.” A scoff could be heard, and then just as quickly, as if Everleigh hadn’t just spewed blasphemy to Henk, she said, “I’ll roll lower than you.” As the last of the die revealed itself.

Henk

 

[Henk]

The outburst of anger wasn't something he'd expected from Everleigh. She was no pacifist, of course, but the speed with which the frustration broke through her voice, even though layered behind a question, was notable to him. It caused Henk's eyes to raise from the dice and focus on her intently. "Ev..." Henk murmured, taking a brief look down at her hands before bringing one of his own to the studs above his left eye. "You work under the assumption that either fate rules everything or that nothing is predetermined. I'd argue the truth is much more confined to the middle ground..."

If there was anybody she could get away with saying such things to, it was Henk. He wasn't sure whether she knew it or not, but Henk wasn't entirely faithful to the Anirian way of thinking himself. Her dice were cast, and indeed she'd rolled lower once he'd discarded. A small smile at his loss, before gathering his dice for the next round.

"Sometimes... It does seem like this was all pointless." His voice was soft, almost as though he didn't wish to stoke her fire, but to complement it. "Our paths have been chosen. Whether we wish to or not, we're to be Dreadlords. However..." With graduation looming, Henk had been thinking long and hard about the future. Not just his own, but that of the others. Of the ones who would follow them next year. It was so easy to feel sorry for himself, to be selfish in his wishes...

But in that next generation, Henk saw hope.

"I will leave this Academy, knowing I've left it a better place than when I arrived. The Revolution was not sweeping, but it planted seeds. I know you see it, Ev. The changing in the way new Initiates are taught. The way those children can still smile, laugh and play. The misery of this place doesn't need to be endless."

Henk bit his cheek as Everleigh rolled again.

"I never had a future to begin with, Ev. They found me starving on the streets. You, and all the others are the only ones I've ever called family. I've been thinking... about becoming a Proctor. Maybe I can stay here, and keep the seeds growing. Someday, I would like very much to see the Dreadlords act not as weapons to be feared, but guardians of the peace, to be revered and respected..."

His own tangent concluded, Henk nodded as he shook his dice.

"Higher."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh rolled her dice, looking at the two. One six, one five, and one two. The two largest were kept, and so she had eleven. A good roll, if she did say so herself. But this was only a practice round. She did listen to Henk however as he spoke. Middle ground? Well, she supposed there could be middle ground. But Everleigh didn’t really like the idea of there being a middle ground— only because what the probability then?

She frowned for a moment, brief yet genuine and then she nodded her head. She wasn’t here to push her ideals onto others. And at the same time, she was torn.

“When I was born, I was never the sort of child that could stay still. To be quiet and sit pretty was never inside me, I just didn’t have the disposition for it. I wanted to be a butcher like my dad. I used to catch mice and would try to drain the blood from then.” She had never admitted to anyone else her earliest memory. It was supposed to be erased through warfare and beatings. “As you can see, I’m short compared to all the other girls. Being a butcher is out of the question.”

Wanly, she inspected her hair, pulling her long braid over her shoulder.

“It still is.” She continued, “no one would want meat from a poison eater.” There was a slight pause. “Don’t you think if we change everything then we’ll get soft? I mean, c’mon, they did a little festival for the underclass men. How ridiculous.” Everleigh said with a huff and leaned back in her chair. “And that solstice ball— that was a mess. Weren’t You in that? How is that better for a dreadlord’s future?”

Henk

 

[Henk]

"Nonsense. I think you could be a butcher if you wanted to be."

Henk slowly cupped his dice back into his cup, a somber little smile playing at his lips as Everleigh expressed her worry. Soft. A word Henk had heard enough times to last him the rest of his life. It had offended him at times, others it saddened him. Nowadays he just found it funny.

"We're all so worried about being 'soft'. I feel more and more like we insist on confusing it with being human. Why are compassion and mercy considered a sin amongst us? Why should we strive to be the same killers we've always been?"

These weren't questions he had answers for, nor did he expect Everleigh to. Even so, they were the ones that kept him from sleep at times. There was so obviously more to live than what they saw and experienced of it. If things changed so that the next generation would be able to reach out and grasp that humanity that had been taken away from Henk and his class, that was a good thing. At least, Henk thought so.

Rolling his dice for the first proper round of Everleigh's game. His face grimaced as two two's and a one stared up at him. Well, make her job easy why don't you, you six-sided jackasses?

Henk wished he would have rolled all ones. Then he would have been disappointed enough to miss Everleigh's question about the ball. An obvious flash of sadness crossed his face, and his eyes suddenly found something interesting about a stool leaning against the wall.

"I... Well, It was nice to see everybody in that setting, I think. It's a reminder that we aren't the machines they make us out to be. I know some of us even enjoyed the dancing before it went downhill."

He gave a quick shake of his head.

"I'll be honest with you though... That was the night I started to feel these things, have these doubts. I felt strange emotions. Thoughts came to me that I still haven't settled with."

One of his hands closed around the lowest of the dice, leaving him with a pair of twos as he looked up at her once more.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh considered Henk’s words. For a moment she contemplated on commenting, moreso because strangely enough, she didn’t want to offend the other initiate.

“I don’t agree with you.” She said finally, and if she had stopped there— and deep down inside, the initiate before the revolution screamed at her to not speak further— then Everleigh could have continued on as a initiate without hesitation. “I can’t agree with you. Look at me.” Appearances, it always went back to appearances, “purple hair, purple eyes, that’s not normal. I looked normal three years ago but now I get called an elf, a witch, a half-bred purple bitch or whatever else isn’t human. Do I look human to you, Henk? Or do I resemble a monster? And if you were a proctor… isn’t your goal to build the best weapons for your home? If the ends justify the means, right?” She took a deep breath, hands beginning to shake.

“What’s the worse things the proctors did to you?” Everleigh made no move to grab the dice from Henk. She had won this wrong, she had guessed right and Henk had guessed wrong, but the game meant very little to her at this moment. “And has the revolution really even tried to fix it?”

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk was far too distracted by Everleigh's words to pay too much attention to the dice on the tale either. What happened in front of him was sudden, unexpected... What had started as innocent banter before a dice game had turned into Ebersol opening up to him in a way that none of his fellow Initiates had before. Seemingly from nowhere she laid bare her insecurities with her appearance, her anger, and disdain for the Academy and the Proctors...

And Henk realized now that the two of them were far more similar than he'd thought.

"I've always been of the mind you're on the attractive side of the fence when it comes to us. I've seen far more disagreeable sights than you." His arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowing as he tilted his head to the side. Henk had always found Everleigh rather fetching if he was being quite honest. In fact, he could name several of their peers that agreed. "You look far more human than I do, I think. Point the right light on me and my right side looks rather trollish, I've been told..."

He smiled at his attempt at a joke, though it also wasn't a lie. There were more types of scars than physical, he knew. Mental scars could run just as deep, far deeper even. Everleigh was showing hers to him now without shame.

"A proctor's goal is to prepare Initiates to be Dreadlords, regardless of what a Dreadlord's task is. I think if we focused less on our paranoia, on our penchant for violence against the rest of the world, this city would be a far happier place."

Tapping the table with his fingers, Henk finally nodded his head towards the dice.

"Alright. Let's do this for real, shall we? Guide me along."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Somehow, Henk soothed Everleigh just enough to stop her from bristling up again. Of course the compliment helped, and she felt heat rise in her cheeks. Her gimlet gaze regarded Henk’s face, mapping out the scars, the piercings. Scars weren’t an unusual sight among dreadlords, usually they tended to be elsewhere, but Everleigh had an easier time naming dreadlords that did have scars than the ones that didn’t.

“The tits help in my case, once they stopped starving me I filled out quite a bit this year and a half, huh?” Another joke matched by a wry smile, and Everleigh tilted her head, exposing the length of her neck, a tendon becoming taut and creating a shadowy contour. She noticed that Henk didn’t answer the question. That was fine. Some things were better left unsaid. “That being said, I think your gentleness cancels out the right side.” There was a sigh. “Men don’t need to be beautiful in the first place, that’s for women to worry about. I’ve always found men to be attractive based on if they’re driven, considerate and… oh, I do have a thing for blondes, though.”

Everleigh went about collecting the dice. She rolled. Out of the three dice she rolled a four and two one’s, giving her only a total of five. She chuckled, what a bad hand. “Alright Henk, before you roll, do you think you’ll roll higher or lower than me?”

Henk

 

[Henk]

Well, yes. Henk couldn't pretend that Everleigh hadn't become particularly... endowed... in the last year. All of them had noticed it; the boys out of attraction and the women out of envy. The pale blue eyes across from her flicked for a fraction of a moment to her chest as she mentioned her growth before he gave his head a small shake and refocused himself. If a pair of tits was enough to distract him for very long he would have been dead already. "Most of the women here would tell you that makes me weak, Everleigh. Not that I see myself as much of an eligible bachelor anyways..."

A smile did find his lips as he shook the dice in his hands though, at her mention of blonde hair. "Mmm. Is that what drew you to him?" He teased, knowing he didn't need to say who he was referring to. It was none of Henk's business, but rumors traveled fast among teenagers. "I'm sure your filling out didn't hurt in getting attention this year. Nevertheless, I think I agree with your thoughts on most beauty truly being beneath the skin."

Following her lead, Henk nodded.

"Higher, then. Are we betting?"

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“I dunno, Henk,” Everleigh said with a mischievous yet mirthful smirk, “I heard you clean up quite well. Too bad I was sick to attend that Ball, would’ve wanted to confirm it with my own eyes.” The smirk was soon wiped off of her face. Ah, she said too much. Everleigh had heard the rumors, heck, Drastus was probably the one spreading them around every time Everleigh denied it.

“Zael and I work well together, we make a good team.” Everleigh said, then quickly added: “A good team of dreadlords. It’s rare to find someone you work well with and Zael manages to excel where I’m weakest and I like to think I do the same for him.” It was firm and nonchalant. A politically correct answer in the academy.

“What would you like to bet? Money? Or something else?” She asked Henk.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Another sharp pang shot through his chest, but the smile on Henk's face only wavered for a moment. Everleigh hadn't meant to insult him or dredge up any bad memories, and he knew that. There wasn't any reason for him to hold it against her. Still, he drew his gaze downwards at the table between them. "Yes, well... I doubt I'll be doing any dancing in the future."

Which was a shame. Henk had loved it, far more than he thought he would. It was how fleeting it was, how quickly the dangling carrot of emotion had been pulled away from him that caused him to ache. Everleigh was going on a diplomatic spiel about her relationship with Zael, but it only made Henk shake his head a bit, looking back up at her

"Don't do that."

It was almost as if her denial had offended him.

"I'm not saying anything about what feelings are between the two of you, as I don't rightly know for certain, but don't ever try and downplay them for the sake of being acceptable to others. Connecting with somebody... I feel it is a blessing. We live lives with such little light, Ev. Take what happiness is offered to us."

Searching his pockets as he spoke, Henk let out a small sigh.

"I don't have much in the way of money, not on me anyways. We don't have to bet, but I imagine you prefer to have stakes, don't you?"

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Then don’t assume,” Everleigh would always be firm on this, to protect Zael more than herself. Comrades, and only comrades. Besides, she was poison. Even if at the festival he had put her in a chokehold or in missions he had been willing to touch her, it didn’t mean… well, it didn’t mean a lot of things. “Feelings are, you know, they’re… wrong. An emotional mind is a weak mind.” The initiate regurgitated.

Everleigh leaned back in her seat, her body relaxing. Moving away from Zael to other things she was far more comfortable with was a needed change.

“I could always loan you some coin, buuut…” she drew out the word, “you probably already know that if someone can’t pay me back I take something of equal value. A pinky is worth ten gold, index finger is worth the most at twenty-five gold. But I’m guessing you’d want to keep your fingers and teeth.” She grinned conspiratorially towards Henk, snapping her fingers— a habit she had picked up from a certain firecracker. “Secrets. We have to tell each other secrets we’ve never told anyone else before.”

High-risks for a small reward were just as fun to Everleigh. She wondered if Henk felt the same way, or if he’d walk away.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Secrets, hmm? Henk supposed he had a couple of them, but he wasn't sure how much there was to bet with. The scarred boy didn't think himself too terribly interesting, honestly. Her reaffirmation that feelings were a negative thing drew a bit of a chuckle from him though. "You know as well as I do that feelings being a trait of a weak mind is absolute bullshit, Evie. I'm not Proctor Mars, spare me."

Finding that he was growing rather relaxed himself, Henk leaned back from the table and crossed his arms over his chest. The idea of betting secrets worked fine with him; if he lost he would have to deal with opening up a little more, but if he won he'd get to learn some more about Ev, and that wasn't an unappealing thought.

"Alright then. Secrets it is, although I doubt you'll think anything I have to tell you too salacious." A smile rested on his lips as he eyed her with a curious gaze, wondering what he'd be able to get out of her. "Let's begin properly, shall we?"

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh shrugged.

“It’s not just about if it’s something scandalous, sometimes you do things, small things, that you wouldn’t want anyone to know. Maybe it’s embarrassment, guilt, shame… sometimes it’s just because you can’t tell anyone for no particular reason. That’s why secrets can be so fun.” Everleigh grabbed the dice, shaking them lightly in her hand before letting them fly. Two sixes and a five, the five was discarded leaving her with twelve, the highest number one could possibly receive.

“Ah, shame.” Everleigh said, but was smiling. “Do you think you’ll roll higher or lower?” Anyone with a brain would choose lower, but it didn’t mean Evie had lost yet.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk supposed that perhaps he did have a few secrets here and there. He hadn't intentionally hidden anything from anybody though, it was more a matter of nobody asking him much. Taking a peek down at Ev's dice, he couldn't imagine the possibility that he'd somehow roll higher than a twelve with only two dice in play, unless somehow an extra pip magically appeared in one of them.

"Lower, I think."

Casting his own dice, they clattered along the surface of the table until they came to rest with five, five and three staring up at Henk. Removing the lowest, that left him with a total of ten, two lower than Everleigh just as he'd bet. It wasn't really shocking, but a brief sense of triumph flew up his spine. Ev was supposed to be a real prodigy with this kind of thing. Even winning a round felt nice.

Henk doubted that would last long.

"Looks like my win. Suppose you have to spill some proverbial beans now, no?"

In a rare showing of competitive taunting, Henk leaned forward on an elbow, smirking and cupping a hand around his ear.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Well, who knew Henk could prove to be a bit of a smug winner? Everleigh would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it, seeing him reflect her playfulness back on her.

“Let’s see,” she had so many secrets, what sorts should she divulge? Everleigh rested her chin on her palm, in thought. Really, she should give something juicy. It’s not like she gave out her secrets for free and Henk was the sort of man who wouldn’t want to shame a woman’s dignity… right? Probably best to start small, just in case.

“I’ve never kissed anyone.” She settled on that. Not the most embarrassing thing but… well, she wasn’t proud of it. She was nineteen now. Surely this inexperience would only hinder her. “Mostly because no one here wants to kiss me, but also slightly because I just don’t understand the dynamics of it. It looks strange. Pecks make sense, at least visually, but I can’t imagine making out with someone. I’ve heard plenty about teeth and tongues going out of control, but I don’t get how that plays a part with someone’s lips.” She inched the dice closer to Henk. “Hopefully that satisfies you enough.”

Henk