- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Writing Levels
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
A wizened face peered out from under a wedge of a black hat, which was the only thing on his otherwise bald and mottled scalp, save for a sparse fringe of white hair. His eyes were heavily lidded and weighed down with wrinkled folds that it was almost like talking to someone asleep, yet he was quite alert. Not seeing Enna beneath the level of the counter, she nudged forward a little further.
"One youth admission, sir?" Enna asked, her pigtails bouncing as she tilted her head.
She'd been expecting the croak of old age, but his voice was more like a sergeant major, strong and distinctly upper class.
"Enna, that you?"
"Yes, sir," the young girl stepped forward, dusting the last of the snow from the shoulders of her jacket, clutching a backpack and a plastic bag in the opposite hand. "Mrs Sparks just dropped me off for the weekend. I brought some Christmas decorations." She held up the bag.
"Decorations?" the man scoffed, getting out of his lounge chair with a grunt and the creaking of old joints. "We have no need for decorations here."
"But it's nearly the holidays. Of course we must decorate," Enna exclaimed with a grin still in need of two front teeth. She dumped her backpack off in the kitchen and skipped into the living room to meet her adoptive grandfather.
The map of wrinkles on his face told the most incredible journey. His eye lines told of laughter, of warm smiles, and affection, and they deepened when seeing the little girl. His forehead told of worries past and worries present, though they all smoothed over when looking at her as she dug through her bag, pulling out Santa figurines ornaments, and a wreathe, scattering them all out over the living room floor for him to see.
He looked over each one and inspected with care. "You pick these out yourself?"
"Well, mostly. Mrs Sparks helped."
"She's your mother, Enna."
A shrug pinched the blonde curls against her neck. "I guess, but not for real."
"For very real."
Again, a shrug.
"This is the best one of all," Enna said, pulling the fake mistletoe from the bottom of the bag. "It's mistletoe! This one is modeled after American mistletoe, it's a hemiparesitic plant."
The old man chuckled, looking to the mistletoe she held up by a red ribbon around the plastic stems. "I don't know what that means. You're too smart for me."
Enna's gapped grin widened. "They're poisonous to us, did you know that?"
"No, I don't reckon I did."
"The most important thing about them is that when you go under them, you have to kiss the person you're with. Like this!"
She skipped over, reaching up on her tippy-toes to put the mistletoe over the old man's head, before leaning forward and pecking him on the cheek.
The old man's eyes twinkled and he laughed from deep within his belly. "I see. That is very nice, Enna. What else you have here?"
"Mmm… Mrs Sparks picked out the wreath. I picked out the Santa statue. I like his reindeer."
"She's your mum."
"She was my teacher first," Enna explained, rolling her head to glance up at the old man.
"You can call her whatever you decide, but I'd reckon she sees you as a daughter, not a student."
Enna blew air through her lips, making a babbling noise as she wrung the plastic vines of mistletoe between her fingers.
"Being adopted doesn't mean you're loved less. Someone loved you enough to pick you out special from all the others." He clapped a hand on the girl's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "Just think about it, but in the end, it's your decision to make what you want to call her."
"Can I call you grandpa?" Enna asked.
"Of course you can, Enna-bear. Now, we're we going to hang up that mistletoe?"
"One youth admission, sir?" Enna asked, her pigtails bouncing as she tilted her head.
She'd been expecting the croak of old age, but his voice was more like a sergeant major, strong and distinctly upper class.
"Enna, that you?"
"Yes, sir," the young girl stepped forward, dusting the last of the snow from the shoulders of her jacket, clutching a backpack and a plastic bag in the opposite hand. "Mrs Sparks just dropped me off for the weekend. I brought some Christmas decorations." She held up the bag.
"Decorations?" the man scoffed, getting out of his lounge chair with a grunt and the creaking of old joints. "We have no need for decorations here."
"But it's nearly the holidays. Of course we must decorate," Enna exclaimed with a grin still in need of two front teeth. She dumped her backpack off in the kitchen and skipped into the living room to meet her adoptive grandfather.
The map of wrinkles on his face told the most incredible journey. His eye lines told of laughter, of warm smiles, and affection, and they deepened when seeing the little girl. His forehead told of worries past and worries present, though they all smoothed over when looking at her as she dug through her bag, pulling out Santa figurines ornaments, and a wreathe, scattering them all out over the living room floor for him to see.
He looked over each one and inspected with care. "You pick these out yourself?"
"Well, mostly. Mrs Sparks helped."
"She's your mother, Enna."
A shrug pinched the blonde curls against her neck. "I guess, but not for real."
"For very real."
Again, a shrug.
"This is the best one of all," Enna said, pulling the fake mistletoe from the bottom of the bag. "It's mistletoe! This one is modeled after American mistletoe, it's a hemiparesitic plant."
The old man chuckled, looking to the mistletoe she held up by a red ribbon around the plastic stems. "I don't know what that means. You're too smart for me."
Enna's gapped grin widened. "They're poisonous to us, did you know that?"
"No, I don't reckon I did."
"The most important thing about them is that when you go under them, you have to kiss the person you're with. Like this!"
She skipped over, reaching up on her tippy-toes to put the mistletoe over the old man's head, before leaning forward and pecking him on the cheek.
The old man's eyes twinkled and he laughed from deep within his belly. "I see. That is very nice, Enna. What else you have here?"
"Mmm… Mrs Sparks picked out the wreath. I picked out the Santa statue. I like his reindeer."
"She's your mum."
"She was my teacher first," Enna explained, rolling her head to glance up at the old man.
"You can call her whatever you decide, but I'd reckon she sees you as a daughter, not a student."
Enna blew air through her lips, making a babbling noise as she wrung the plastic vines of mistletoe between her fingers.
"Being adopted doesn't mean you're loved less. Someone loved you enough to pick you out special from all the others." He clapped a hand on the girl's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "Just think about it, but in the end, it's your decision to make what you want to call her."
"Can I call you grandpa?" Enna asked.
"Of course you can, Enna-bear. Now, we're we going to hang up that mistletoe?"
"You're all the mad and none of the scientist," Levi said as he swung into the lab door, propping himself up against the frame and folding his arms.
One legged kicked out, hooking around the other and a stupid, sly smirk at the edges of his lips. The industrial lights overhead painted him in dark shadows in some places, and patches of blinding white in others, desaturating the olive skin to a milky white shade.
I barely glanced up from my computer monitor, my eyes peering over the rim of my goggles as I paused the clicking of my mouse.
"Come on, Vi! It's Christmas Eve… nine o'clock… what you still doing here, anyways?"
"One, work doesn't just stop because it's a holiday. Two, I need to make sure this system suit passes. Three…"
Levi groaned aggressively through my speech, going louder each time I attempted to talk over him until I was drowned out in the beeping of equipment and incessant grunts.
"I hear no good reasons yet!" he exclaimed between grunts, and when I tried to argue, he mumbled louder once more until I rolled my eyes and returned my gaze to my monitor.
"Good god, Vi. I don't think I could disapprove of you less than I do now. It's Christmas! Go home!"
"I was trying to tell you that I can't…"
And more moans. Levi's head lolled back and rolled back and forth, bellowing out like some dying animal.
"You took a hard left at mildly annoying, and never came back," I shouted over the grousing and the beeping.
"If you don't leave right now, I'm going to pull the fire alarm."
"That's a federal offense, buddy. I'll call the cops and put you in jail."
"You wouldn't," he taunted.
"I would," I shot back, pushing my goggles back up my nose.
"I don't believe you."
"Try me."
His eyes danced towards the fire alarm pull, fingers wiggling on the opposite bicep, but he didn't move to unfold his arms.
"I can't do it."
"I knew you wouldn't. Now get outta here and leave me alone."
"You're a Grinch, Vi."
"I thought you said I was mad?"
"A mad Grinch."
"Go home, Levi."
"Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too."
He swung out the door, whistling as he disappeared down the dark hallway, the door clicking shut behind him and the beeping of instruments filling the silence left behind.
One legged kicked out, hooking around the other and a stupid, sly smirk at the edges of his lips. The industrial lights overhead painted him in dark shadows in some places, and patches of blinding white in others, desaturating the olive skin to a milky white shade.
I barely glanced up from my computer monitor, my eyes peering over the rim of my goggles as I paused the clicking of my mouse.
"Come on, Vi! It's Christmas Eve… nine o'clock… what you still doing here, anyways?"
"One, work doesn't just stop because it's a holiday. Two, I need to make sure this system suit passes. Three…"
Levi groaned aggressively through my speech, going louder each time I attempted to talk over him until I was drowned out in the beeping of equipment and incessant grunts.
"I hear no good reasons yet!" he exclaimed between grunts, and when I tried to argue, he mumbled louder once more until I rolled my eyes and returned my gaze to my monitor.
"Good god, Vi. I don't think I could disapprove of you less than I do now. It's Christmas! Go home!"
"I was trying to tell you that I can't…"
And more moans. Levi's head lolled back and rolled back and forth, bellowing out like some dying animal.
"You took a hard left at mildly annoying, and never came back," I shouted over the grousing and the beeping.
"If you don't leave right now, I'm going to pull the fire alarm."
"That's a federal offense, buddy. I'll call the cops and put you in jail."
"You wouldn't," he taunted.
"I would," I shot back, pushing my goggles back up my nose.
"I don't believe you."
"Try me."
His eyes danced towards the fire alarm pull, fingers wiggling on the opposite bicep, but he didn't move to unfold his arms.
"I can't do it."
"I knew you wouldn't. Now get outta here and leave me alone."
"You're a Grinch, Vi."
"I thought you said I was mad?"
"A mad Grinch."
"Go home, Levi."
"Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too."
He swung out the door, whistling as he disappeared down the dark hallway, the door clicking shut behind him and the beeping of instruments filling the silence left behind.