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Since it is pointless to summarize her thoughts in an intelligent manner, we will substitute them for 'wow!!! wow cheren kawaii!!!! ^q^ ha ha cute'

"Are they ever not okay?  I like to think I can keep myself in order."

She places a hand on her chin and finally surveys him beyond her initial impression of jubilation.

"You on the other hand, putting your homework and studies neurotically high in your priorities, seem to have neglected all personal hygiene aside from what's directly related to health concerns--"

She smiles briefly and restrains herself from touching his hair as she places her hands back to her sides and leans on the bookshelf behind her coolly.  As she expected, it had definitely gotten longer, and she considered him lucky to seem so unconcerned about looking like a bookish, blushing 12 year old girl.  It is at this point that pom despairs and attempts to somehow erase the fact that Anabel seems intent on moral justice and young reckless abandon towards the wishes of other people's parents, but it is kind of hard to remove scissors once they're in someone else's inner coat pocket, particularly if the someone else is in the literary dimension. But really as far as cutting the kid's beautiful flowing locks goes it's a no no nono no NO NO NO no n ONO NOn o no no no oh no nooOOOOOO-

Imperceptible, Anabel's left eyebrow twitches.

"Doesn't that bother you?"

September 15th

He lowers his hand and chuckles at the questions in her greeting. “Thank you?” he answers back, raising an eyebrow at her but unable to contain his grin—but then she pulled him in and kissed him. His cheekiness melted into a warm calm, that familiar and faint burning feeling crossing his face again as it reddened.

“Are things okay?” He asks after they part, their foreheads still touching. He looks down at their hands laced together.

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She blinks twice.

"I--"

"Well--"

"Ah--"

Something about his warm smile caught her off guard.  Maybe it was because she had expecting him to be a bit more miffed or concerned or perhaps not quite so enthusiastic on his birthday because, for certain, he seemed generally far more subdued and not inclined to the sort of party his friends might have thrown him which she probably wouldn't have been able to go to but wow that's just preposterous isn't it now stop that.  Living in the now, he's touching her face in the middle of a library; with any other person, it would be admittedly odd, but in this case they've had enough awkward physical interaction to find it perfectly normal.

"Happy? Birthday?"

Well that wasn't smooth at all.  She didn't think about it when she placed her hand on the one holding the 'kerchief or pulled him closer with the other or leaned in for inevitable contact.  You would think someone like her would find some creative way to express this sort of thing, but she always seems to fall back on this natural instinct.

Then rain.

That was for some amount of seconds.  You stop checking your watch after you're already late, anyways.

September 15th

“Cheren?” 

The sound of his name doesn’t surprise him, but the voice—

no, not even the voice that says his name.

Just as he finds the novel he left behind after checking it out earlier in the morning in between the cushions of the red couch in the reading area, he gets caught finding it. Seemed almost cliche, heh. He checks his watch, for a moment, as if there is no urgency. 10:31 pm. Well. Past curfew. … 

There were other things to worry about at this hour.

He turns around, holding the book in one of his hands, and a welcoming smile on his lips. “Well, looks like you’re out late, too. At least I’m not alone?”

He doesn’t ask about where she’s been, or why. He isn’t mad or sad or anything in particular. 

No, wait. 

Maybe not nothing in particular. 

He takes a step forward, and only then notices how soaked she is. He scrutinizes how damp her hair is. “Looks like you got caught in the rain.” Reaching for something in his pocket, he pulls out something familiar.

A handkerchief with an “A” embroidered on it. “Here.”Folding it neatly again, he starts dabbing at her cheek, not thinking much of it. 

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September 15th

It’s raining.

“No, ma’am, you can’t go back to you old dorm.”

“Miss, the new semester has started; please fill out this Enrollment Card and Release Form.”

“Excuse me, girlie, but where were you off to anyhow?”

On top of that, there was no reception at the frontier.  Noland had been out cold, unable to fix it, and Tucker had some traveling show to be at; Lucy periodically disappears as usual, probably partaking in some sort of risqué night life. She could have figured out some way to fix it sure, but—

Er, well.

She stopped pacing her new dorm, empty at the time.

The message she’d got on her phone the day she left was urgent, but that wasn’t any reason not to say goodbye.  After being swamped with work her first week back at the tower and guiltily forgetting almost entirely about her studies she never got a chance to send any form of letter or correspondence, and now she’s choked up over having lost contact because she put her duty as a Tower Tycoon before her social relations.  Is it better to be late than never in this case?

…It is his birthday after all.  Why am I hesitating when he’s one of, if not the singular, prime reason I was so enthusiastic about coming back—

Her face probably reddened a bit at the sentimental thought, and she took the moment to glance exasperatedly at her watch. 

10:00 PM.  That’s thirty minutes before curfew.  Plenty of time, though she spends the next ten or so pacing some more before hastily snatching a pair of scissors from her dresser and finding out from the lack of response that he wasn’t in his dorm.  The next two are spent berating herself for her inefficiency and the five after that walking briskly through the rain without an umbrella (passing by an odd looking green haired boy who was fiddling with some machine on her way there) because, really, why hadn’t the library been the first place she’d checked?

She walks past the rows of bookshelves leading to the back of the library (glancing not too briefly at the table where they first met) and, brushing dripping bangs to the side, peers around a shelf full of cheap romance novels.  The next five seconds are spent catching her breath.

“Cheren?”

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Insufferable egoistic--

Good day to you, sir.

My professional experience is that, to optimize one’s living conditions, the best course of action is to disable any Tower Tycoon related devices and deploy a 3 meter force field around one’s person at any instance of his entrance into the vicinity.

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Ahem.

i woke up from my nap because my “palmer is making an ass out of himself” sensors were ringing

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Anabel was reading quietly in her dorm when she suddenly felt the need to put her book (about the psychological implications of dependency and desire as they pertain to society and consumerism as a whole) and scrunch her eyebrows.

She mutters, "Tower Tycoons are very much capable of whispering, thank you."

...and continues on her merry way.

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(I GASPED)

(STEVEN STONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

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"Burnt right down to cinders."

………..

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hikari is really pretty 

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You're both legally children, you know.

cresss replied to your post: I HATE CRESS

How childish.

YOUR FACE IS CHILDISH

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hey HEY you know what I JUST REMEMBERED do you WANT ANOTHER PIGGYBACK RIDE LIKE THE GOOD OLD DAYS YOU'RE STILL SMALL TYCOON JR. I CAN DO IT!!! (just don't kick me this time)

...

...

...That's enough, Mr. Tycoon.

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Ha ha, if I wasn't trying to be cordial, I would probably tell you that it's obvious you don't think.  I admire your confidence considering that fact, miss.

i don’t think, i know

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[laughs heartily]

Alright Chili, carry on.

[Stares at… her? Him? With a confused look on his face]

…Uh huh. Look, uh, Anabel! Okay! Yeah, I didn’t understand a word of that. I don’t have a vocabulary of a 97 year old. [Blinks a couple of times and pats her on the shoulder]

And my hair’s pretty awesome, I know, thanks for noticin’.

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……YOU CAN CALL ME KUROTSUGU INSTEAD……………………………….

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It's Anabel.  Pleased to meat meet you. [shakes your hand]

I get the feeling you won't listen to reason, no offense of course; that, and your somewhat mind-boggling hair is what gives you your lively appearance.  Though, have you ever considered that your impressions of a person may be somewhat clouded by bias?  [raises an eyebrow]

You were a freshman once too, you know, so is it not reasonable to, instead of bitterly dismissing and displaying hostility towards them so that they may fester in an onslaught of insult and become bitter or generally worse in condition themselves, either be cordial to them or at the very least pay them no heed?  Honesty is a good policy, after all, and I commend you for that, but it is nothing without compromise.

Naturally, though,  it's just a suggestion; I'm not one to tell others what to do, think, or feel. [smile]

…Uhhh… Yeah, sure… Whoever you are.

You’re just provin’ my point!

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Would you be interested in allowing me to disprove that point, or am I to assume that you as an upperclassman are surprisingly close-minded? In the latter case, I concede to being annoying and wish you well for the rest of your day, sir. [smile]

Wooow, there’s been some annoying freshmen around lately, huh?

HA, who am I kidding — all freshmen are annoying. Pfft. Whatever.

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Let's just say it's something I picked up while visiting another universe.

…

…

…

Do you normally. Sparkle like. That.