Time passed, the sun was already setting and she still hadn't fully figured out, just staring hoping something would magically appear. It was night time, she tried to write something, holding her pen near the card...

"UGH!" She complained, moving away from the card again "I can't figure out how to go with this! If I dont do it carefully— It could mess up everything beetwen us..."

"If I write some kind of confession... I could totally get rejected and ruin our friendship and make it awkward and weird and then I will die." "Writing about our friendship is more safe... And it will be appreciated! It's less of a risk of losing our bond..."

"...But is that really all I want?" Liah thought for a few moments more, contemplating her options ...

"No, staying friends would still be better! I'll just write about that!" She finally decided, she was not going to take that risk... (Am I even gonna give this to her?)

Kenny came to Stark’s Pond out of habit. When things got loud at home this was where he usually ended up. It was far from his parents and quiet enough that no one bothered him. +

He sat near the pond, lost in thought, until he noticed someone else already there. Kenny glanced up, clearly annoyed to see who it was.

Kenny shot him a quick look. “I’m not here for you.” Then he turned away, ignoring him.

Kenny didn’t budge. “Well, I’m having a nice time too. Last I checked, this lake isn’t yours, so you aren’t telling’ me what to do.”

Kenny pushed himself up to his feet, he placed his hands on his hips, almost challenging stance as his eyes locked onto Gregory. He didn’t move a bit.

“So can I,” Kenny replied, taking a step forward to prove his point. Unfortunately, the ground near the lake was slick with water. His shoe hit the wet patch, slid out from under him, and before he could even react he lost his balance and went straight down with a loud splash.

After they finally made it back on the land, Kenny laid there for a second, dragging in shaky breaths. His hood clung to his face, sleeves dripping onto the dirt. He glanced over at Gregory. “…Thank you,” he muttered quietly.

When are you going to stop fucking around and get back with Trump. We’re waiting