After DC told me I fit the qualifications of someone he'd murder, I never wanted to speak to him again. So I probably shouldn't have blamed him for something he didn't do, against someone he couldn't stand. It sort of cheesed him off...
Okay, this i...
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"If it soothes your ego any, I got an hour long lecture about open communication this weekend," I told DC as I pushed the door closed behind me and walked into his house.
He glanced over his shoulder at me as he led the way, a grin pressed against his lips. "It does, actually," he said with a nod. "A little. Did she warn you off about boys that are no good for you?"
I laughed softly and shook my head. "No. Though I kind of thought she would. My mom is very anti the bad-boy cliche."
DC clicked his tongue against his teeth as he led me through the living room, towards the stairs. "I'm not a cliche," he protested with mock offense.
"Please," I countered, pausing in step at the base of the stairs instead of following him up. "The scarred knuckles, the motorcycle," I rolled my eyes and smiled. "What are we doing?" The suspicion couldn't be masked in my voice.
DC shrugged. "I thought we'd try the roof today. And, hey," he tilted his head back to look at me with a light scowl on his face. "This is from moving around band equipment all the time." He held up the backs of his hands for me to see, but I was beyond that point.
"Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous, refusing to step onto a stair. "Try what with the roof?"
Dorian laughed, shooting me a look of shame. "Don't tell me you've never been on your roof before." He chastised, shaking his head. "Come on." He encouraged, without waiting for a reply, motioning for me to follow him and then starting up the stairs again.
I did, of course. It's what I do.
He walked into his room and I followed behind, watching as he pushed the window up that faced my room. It was blocked partially by his desk, but he used it as a stepping stool as he hoisted himself up, and in a moment he was out. I watched him step out onto the ledge, an eyebrow lifted incredulously.
It was an easy prospect and I wondered how it had never occurred to me before. There was enough standing space to step right out, and DC leaned his head back in to shoot an impatient look at me when I didn't follow him. With a sigh, I pushed onto his desk with hands and knees then reached and DC grabbed my hands to hoist me out. He waited until I was steady and standing beside him before he asked, with a grin, "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"
I snorted by way of answer and he dropped my hands, stepping up to the slant of the roof in front of us and pulling himself up the rest of the way. It wasn't that much higher and it wasn't that slanted, either, which I discovered when I followed him up just a moment afterwards. I actually felt relatively safe up there, considering.
He walked a ways to the least slanted part of the roof, where I could see that he'd left an open notebook, then settled down into a sitting position with his legs crossed. I stared a moment before joining him, glancing around me to take in my surroundings.
It wasn't as far up as I'd imagined it would feel. Well, if I had ever imagined what it would be like to sit on the rooftop of a house. Which, I guess, I hadn't really done. The trees were higher, even, and I'd climbed a couple of those in my tomboy stage of adolescence.
