let's conspire to ignite

Trent continued to scowl. "How would I know if you're not diseased." Again, it was a statement. He let a few moments of glaring at Millie transpire, before dropping the stern look on his face. "Awwwright." Reluctantly, he took the last cloth of his modesty off. Sighing, he decided that it was time to start on the beer. Then, as if a thought came to him, he walked out of the bathroom. Soon, Trent came back with the remaining four cans of beer and dumped them into the sink. As soon as that was done, he lifted a can and popped it, before almost throwing a long gulp into his mouth. The cold liquid hit the back of his throat, and Trent felt a little better at the first taste of his trusty friend -- cold beer. Holding a can in one hand, the boy reached for another can and tossed it to Millie, not caring if she actually wanted it or not. 

Trent took a step closer to the tub, his free hand now working as a shield of privacy. Cautiously, he stepped into the tub, hoping not to spill water onto the floor, especially when the water level would be higher with two people in it. It was a blessing in disguise that no one would bother him after dinner. His parents were early sleepers, especially since they had to be early at work on weekdays. Their biological clock had ensured this consistent habit, no matter what day it was. If Demelza had walked in, it was no telling how berserk she would go. She would probably think that her son had orchestrated this anyway, and proceed to save Millie out of the tub. Trent was not keen on more deprecating from his mother.

Trent settled himself down slowly into the tub, he had to lose his shield for a moment to hold the side of the tub as he did so. Thankfully, the bubbles soon took over the job. Unfortunately, the tub was too small, and he found his long legs plastered against his chest, since he wanted to avoid physical contact. "There, I'm in." He held his can up. "Cheers to ... " A pur sounded from somewhere. Trent's head shot up to see that the cat had let himself into the bathroom. " ... Lucy!"

Admittedly, Millie wasn’t sure whether she was diseased or not. Then again her mother, being the health freak she was, took them to St. Mungo’s whenever they were home and Quidditch landed Millie in the Hospital Wing more often than not so she was vaguely confident about her non-diseased state. Surely, if she was diseased, someone would have noticed by now. She’d only ever had Dragon Pox once - when she was little - and then a round of Chicken Pox courtesy of Brother-Bot and when she was ill there was nothing ill about her, she was near-death.

And the more Millie thought about it the more she realised that though she wasn’t diseased, she wasn’t the healthiest person in the world. She now vaguely understood why her mother was insistent they come in whenever it was raining. Firstborn or not, Millie had still been the smallest of the twins, and therefore the one most likely to get sick. Yet, there was the irony. She didn’t get ill often but when she did it was like Mario getting touched by those silly mushroom things where as her brother was nearly always sick. It was all very strange and she did understand why her mother was often so worried about the pair of them; Brother-Bot because he was always sick and Millie because she was teetering on the edge of health and whatever the opposite of that was. Lack of health, maybe? Whatever.

“I am not diseased!” She murmured finally, a smile lifting her lips upwards. She picked up a bar of soap that had been sat on the side of the bath and she rubbed it against her palms. Soap was almost the bane of Millie’s existence. It was a close second to her brother though and it did as it always did when she handled it. The soap shot from her hands and landed at the other end of the bath, in an almost perfect dive. Millie collapsed into another fit of giggles and tipped back into the water, her hands moving blindly in search of the bar of soap. “Where are you soapy, soapy, soap? I’ll find you!” She was having little luck with it though. Soap was a secret ninja. The factories that made soap were secret Soap-Ninja training grounds - Millie was sure of it. This one was called...Deluxe. Deluxe: the Soap-Ninja.

Millie lifted her arms up when Trent tossed the beer, momentarily forgetting the fact that Deluxe was hiding somewhere in the bath. She caught it awkwardly, the tin slipping in her soap-lathered hands. She clamped her hands around it and grinned a little when it stayed put. She put it down on the side as her mind turned back to the soap, and she stuck her hands in amongst the bubbles once more, determined to find it before either her fingers started to wrinkle or the water went cold. Her distraction gave Trent a little bit of privacy as he slipped into the water though the rising of the water level didn’t help Millie in her search. It was, however, lovely on her back.

“Okay!” She exclaimed, lifting her hands up. “Nobody move. There is a bar of soap in here somewhere, suspected to be a ninja, and it is missing.” She grinned at Trent before cocking her head to the side and observing him. “Surely you’re uncomfortable?” Millie was sort of sat cross legged. Sort of being the operative word. Long legs didn’t help man nor beast and she was having a little issue getting comfortable. She wasn’t hard-pressed for room though, not quite as much as Trent was. He seemed determined to keep up his no touching rule though so Millie merely rolled her eyes and peered over the side at the cat that gone in search of his owner and his most-favourite-person-in-the-world.

“You’re coming voluntarily into a bathroom?” Millie frowned at the cat that merely stared back at her. “Are you ill, baby?” Lucius mewed in response and yawned before sitting himself down on the rug by the toilet. Clearly he wanted some company but he also wanted to continue his sleeping from earlier. It was fair enough really seeing as Millie had plucked him from the rose bush he’d been snoozing in. “You know what’s going through his mind don’t you?” Millie asked Trent. “‘What the bloody hell are those two morons doing in the bath together?’ Along with some sort of cat-innuendo, of course. I think he’s just glad that we didn’t put him in there too. Bless his little fluffy heart.”

Out of everything in the world, Millie had to drop the soap and warrant a groping search through the tub. Trent took care to ensure she did not grope at him accidentally. Thankfully, his legs made a good shield. He relaxed them a little by stretching an inch or two further. They were beginning to feel the first sensation of numbness. "Ninja soap or not, grope carefully, alright." Trent eyed the girl before letting his hands fall into the water lightly. "I'll help you on my side." He allowed his hands to touch the space around him, before he found the bar of soap easily near his bum. 

"Hah! Found it!" Gripping hard on the soap, Trent held it up, out of the water. And then, it slipped out and plopped back into the water, landing at his tummy. Trent grasped it again and made sure he made it secure, then passed it to Millie. After he did so, Trent took another gulp of the beer and eyed the cat. He gave it a warm smile, definitely a better look than the one he had used against his friend for the past couple of minutes. 

"So ..." Trent tried to start a conversation, despite feeling a little odd, caught in this situation. "How's the tat feeling? How're you going to show it off during school time anyway? It's on your back. It's cool though, I'm seriously considering getting one. The ones I have ... " Subconsciously, Trent rubbed against the lightning bolt behind his ear. "... Don't seem so cool now." And he proceeded to study the Roman numerals around his left wrist.

Deluxe: The Ninja Soap was a dangerous creature that should be feared - much like the television when it turned itself on or those silly games on the ‘World-Wide-Web’. Both were Brother-Bot’s forte. That was one thing Millie had a tendency to back her mother on - Muggles made some bloody weird things. Soap wasn’t completely a Muggle invention but it still had the ‘Muggles? Weird’ tag on it. Millie loved Muggles, sure, but she still thought they were odd. Then again, she was probably one of the worst ambassadors the Wizarding World had; or, could potentially have. She wasn’t exactly the poster-child for students either - no, that was Brother-Bot, again. It seemed that Millie was better suited to soap related hilarity and torturing her friend with her nudity. She was like a sexier, blonde version of Peter Pan; minus those green tights. Whoever said that girls matured faster than boys was probably not wrong but Millie was the exception to this rule, apparently, as well as hundreds of others.

“How can you grope carefully?” She asked as she waved her hands around in the water in search of the ninja soap of doom. “Isn’t that the whole point of groping someone - that you’re not careful about it? Besides, groping is necessary to catch a ninja. They’re slippery little things...and this one is extra-slippery because it’s soap and not just a ninja. Can you sense the danger?” Millie turned around, feeling around by the plug and the taps. “Any luck-” Millie turned around again as Trent laid his hands on the soap and she giggled as he lost his grip on it. “Told you,” She teased with a bright smile. Millie cupped her hands together and lifted them up to receive the soap. “Thank you. Funnily enough, I had a feeling you’d sat on it.”

And then she went back to what she’d been doing before, rubbing the soap against her palms to get a good coating of the stuff on her skin. She placed it back on the side, wary of it disappearing again, and rubbed her hands together before gliding them up and down her arms. She still had no idea what the ‘no touching rule’ was all about but she was going to go with it - as if it were a game of sorts. Deluxe: The Ninja Soap was better than expected and she seemed to be getting off the gunpowder that was nigh on ingrained into the pads of her fingers. It really showed what a good bit of soap could do - and a bath. Showers clearly did not to do the job properly.

“So gonna have to make use of the Prefect’s Bathroom when we get back to Hogwarts,” She murmured, mostly to herself. Millie dunked her hands back into the water and rubbed the soap off of her palms before doing the same to her arms and shoulders. “Um, I don’t know. I’ll just have to go streaking through the common room or something,” She shrugged her shoulders, not entirely sure how she was going to show it off. “I guess I didn’t really plan to. Oh look, birdies!” She lifted her arms up and rubbed the bubbles away as the birds from one of the fallen feathers danced underneath her skin. “I guess I’ll just have to by a load of backless tops and freeze in winter or something,” She laughed. “It doesn’t matter either way. Sure, it’s showy, but maybe that’s why it’s not meant to be shown - because it is showy.

Millie slid forward a little and took Trent’s hand into hers which were dwarfed by only one of his. She traced the numerals with her finger and smiled a little. “They don’t have to be ‘cool’.” She murmured. “They’re a part of you, personal to you. It’s like wishing for rain while standing in the desert. It’ll never happen yet you wish it will anyway; praying for the ridiculous. It’s not important. Don’t seek what you don’t need, bubs.” She reached up and tapped his nose. “They’re not just there because they’re ‘cool’. They’re there because they’re, well, you. They explain bits of you. Isn’t that what all versions of body art do? They let the common man in and for a moment let them see what you’re all about. That’s surely more important than how cool they are. They are, admittedly, but there is more to it than that. There are underlying reasons beneath impulse after all.” Millie drew a ring around the numerals with her nail and watched as the mark disappeared into Trent’s skin after a few seconds. She released his hand and smiled, her cheeks turning scarlet. “That was my, uh, daily dose of philosophy. Next time I’ll charge.”

While Millie was interested in soaping herself, Trent was not. He was merely contented with soaking himself instead, willing himself to believe that the bubble bath would make him sufficiently cleaned. After all, he felt sure that he would come out smelling like ... bubbles? Soap? It sure beat not showering for a day. His longest record was eleven days, without a shower. And then he broke the chain because he was to have a girl over, and Trent did not want her to give a bad report to her friends. That would certainly jeopardize his needs.

Trent listened to Millie before suggesting in a seemingly serious voice: "Of course you already know you're not allowed to go streaking, that you do. I could burn a hole at the back of your robes. That'll be awesome." He grinned, and then he shrugged. "Trying to help." Trent forgot about the no-touching-rule when Millie took his hand. It presented no threat to him, and that was fair. Assuring himself of the safety of the situation, Trent stretched his legs further. They were getting uncomfortable, being so close to him. "Lucy must be thinking us stupid. Two tall humans trying to fit into a small tub, like you said. It's a funny sight. The prefects' bathroom would be such a luxury. We should do it again, and bring the others. Except, I think you should be wearing a bathing suit of some sort. It's not good to tease people in this way. Let the other girls do it." Trent winked, and grinned. It was definitely fine to have the other girls soak in the nude, of course. Millie was just different, he could not allow her to do it. He was sure he would heave her away even if she insisted.

Millie went on a tirade, a sophisticated one, it seemed. Trent merely cocked an eyebrow up. Paying attention to serious talk was never one of his stronger points. He was still more interested in a 'cooler' tattoo. The boy took another gulp of his fast-finishing beer, and then he tilted the can over the surface of bubbles. "Do you know what would make this bath a better one? A beer bath! It is my dream to swim in beer. Doesn't matter if I choked or swallowed on some of it, I'll drink it as I swim. Delish." And then, as if he was serious about the beer bath, Trent allowed a drop of beer to fall from his can, and to get lost in the bubbles. Lifting his can higher, he stuck a tongue out to catch the next drop of beer, licking his lips as soon as it landed on his tongue. Forgetting his reservations, Trent stood up suddenly to reach for another can of beer. Drops of water fell onto the dry floor, but he did not worry his heart with them. With a new can of beer in hand, Trent crushed the old one and tossed it carelessly to a corner of the bathroom. Happy, he proceeded to sit himself down in the tub again, cautiously.

Streaking wasn’t exactly something she would do on a daily basis; Quidditch games, maybe, but not at every available interval. Millie licked her lips as she thought about it, idly tapping the bar of soap with her fingers as she did so. The hole in the back of her robes probably wasn’t the best idea either. What was she going to say to her father come winter when she was freezing because of the bloody hole that displayed the tattoo for the world to see? As obliging as she was sure her father would be, she didn’t think he’d be too happy about having to replace her school robes so early in the year. He was poised for mid-year when she had another random growth spurt and started catching up in height with her brother but she didn’t think he’d be able to cope with the reason why there was a hole in the back of her robes and that he had to get her a new set. So that probably wasn’t a wise move.

“How about I just keep it for whoever is lucky enough to end up in my bed next year?” She suggested; quirking an eyebrow at her friend with a grin on her lips. “It could be like...a special surprise,” She laughed.

Even the cat seemed bloody amazed by her little bit of, well, sense. Millie cast a look over at the animal that had lifted his head at her words. The pair shared a look before the cat stood up, stretched and turned around, deciding that the humans were a waste of his time. Millie was sure it was a Kneazle thing; like, being a moody bastard was engrained into their genes along with fluffiness and a taste for toes - though the last one only probably applied to Lucius who was forever randomly attacking people’s feet. He liked Brother-Bot’s more than anyone’s though, which pleased Millie to no end. Still, that didn’t make him any less moody. Despite his need for their company, he didn’t seem at all impressed with the bath, the nudity, or the talk of tattoos. He was an old man - a moody old man.

“Well how about you just don’t look?” Millie shot back, reaching down into the water and poking Trent’s foot. “And besides, I don’t think I own a bathing suit anyway. The last one I had was a frilly disaster that made me look like Ariel from the Little Mermaid - and I was five at the time. Let’s just...not go there shall we? And what’s your problem with nudity anyway? It’s as the Gods intended! Think about it! Adam and Eve ran around naked!” Of course that was going to be what she remembered from going to church when she was younger. She could remember having to sing in the choir with her brother. He loved it, the little sod. She’d spent more time using the hymn book as some sort of weapon than using it correctly. “You’re just...” Millie snorted and her lips widened into a grin. “You’d never survive at one of those naturist resorts!”

She wasn’t about to be left out from having her entire body smelling like vanilla or whatever ran from the taps in the bathroom. The bath was like a swimming pool - too big to be classed as a simple tub. She made a mental note to go in search of it when they were back at school. She was sure that that was where she’d be spending her evenings with a book and a glass of whatever the House Elves were willing to give her from the kitchens. She was sure a case of Butterbeer would soon make them take her to where they kept the wines because she was almost certain that the teachers didn’t drink pumpkin juice on the top table, no chance, not with the way the Divination professor giggled with the Ancient Runes Professor. This was something that greatly concerned Millie, seeing as they were both her favourite professors. But then she got to thinking, if they produced a Divination/Ancient Runes cross breed then that would be the teacher of her dreams. It seemed as if another pet project for the year was underway already and summer had barely begun.

“Hmm...beer bath,” Millie shrugged her shoulder and knocked the soap back into the bath, deciding to let it mingle and with their toes. She inspected her hands for a few moments, pleased to find that they were not yet pruned, and reached for the beer she’d forgotten about in her search for the soap. It seemed a little bit wrong to have her dainty little fingers wrap around the can the way they had, but she popped it open with practiced ease and brought it to her lips as Trent went for his second. At least it was more relaxed, she figured.

Lucius wasn’t exactly pleased he was getting water everywhere though and soon got to his feet, slinking towards the door to avoid his own bath. Millie was half tempted to catch him and bring him in there with them but she knew the consequences of that happening and she didn’t fancy having to look through her jeans for some plasters after Lucius had scratched the pair of them to near-death. “Bye kitty!” She called to Lucy. The cat gave a little growl in response and she snickered before leaning back into the water. Millie gave a content sigh and wetted her lips again. “If you had a bath of beer though...what would it be? Like...Fosters or Carlsberg?”

"Don't you mean unlucky, to end up in your bed? There's no telling what will be left of whoever that ends up in your bed." Grinning, the boy eyed Millie before he continued. "Jezzz kidding, Mophead. I guess I must be very lucky now. Some boys might die to be in my position, and I bet they'll offer to scrub you down." Trent frowned as he imagined the scene of such a possibility. He leaned back and rested his head against the wall, one hand resting at his side, and the other resting on his right knee while it held his can of beer. Trent jerked when he felt a poke at his foot. He was ticklish, alright. And it was hard to admit. He had spots that were too sensitive, but it was not as if people expected that about him, and so he was never really required to admit it. Trent merely feigned ignorance after that jerk, choosing to sip his beer now in peace.

"Eve must have been really hot, don't you think? The mother of all women, the first subject of desire. And I'm sure, being the first and having to roam around naked, she must look like something acceptable. You know, like a kind of benchmark for future generations?" Trent grinned, imagining an Eve in his head. "Delish," and he licked his lips for effect. "I don't have a problem with nudity!" Trent started defensively against Millie. "I just ..." He paused, trying to find some appropriate words. "It's just you. You? Naked?" Then he made a face. Trent turned, and was just in time to see Lucius saunter out of the bathroom. "Cute arse," he remarked with a cheeky grin, only to check for his friend's reaction, hoping to see a look of disgust.

Trent chewed on his lower lip and actually looked like he was giving serious thought to Millie's question on a beer-bath. "Why ... I'm not picky, really. If I get a beer-bath I'll just dive in and have at it. If I had to choose, though, Heineken will be perfect. Stella Artois would be magnifique, too. But between Foster's and Carlsberg ... it's a difficult choice. Probably Carlsberg." He licked his lips as soon as he was done with that consideration, bringing the can to his lips again. "I would give anything in the world to own a club. Any poison would be allowed! And drinks on the house for gorgeous ladies." He nodded eagerly. "I don't know if the parents will disown me. Probably not. But it won't be easy to tolerate their reactions, I'm sure." Trent sighed and cocked his head, looking at Millie.

"Are we done? I don't fancy baths." He wriggled his nose and continued to look at her. Now that the initial discomfort of nudity had become a bit tiresome to him, Trent felt a kind of curiosity. He was in a position of absolute liberty, and he could do what he wanted if he allowed himself to, and then face the consequences later. But what was this? This sort of thinking? Trent considered that train of thought, albeit a very short one. "Mills," he began, and paused as soon as he did. Then he drummed the fingers of his free hand against the side of the tub. "You don't ... jump into baths with other boys, do you? I mean, well ... we're friends, and I'm not your brother. Well, I don't want you as a sister, either." Trent chuckled, nervously. "I mean, don't you find this a little ... odd? No, but. I mean, I guess, yeah we're just doing an Adam and Eve thing. No, but we're not Adam and Eve. I mean, of course. Not even, like, how Eve was to Adam. Of course."

He bit his tongue. "I don't know what I mean to say. I'm rambling." Trent shrugged, and turned again to the comfort of his beer. Questions without intention, fueled from confusion. Trent decided to stop with the wondering, but still allowed himself to look properly at Millie, above the bubbles, of course.

Hogwarts was the best place to live and stash stuff under mattresses. Millie had an unhealthy thing about doing that with her spoils and she has had in her time many a conversation with the sceptical House Elves about what they found underneath her mattress and why there was so much gunpowder in the covers. They were usually satisfied with the hasty former answer but they were always much more wary about the latter, especially seeing as she had the uncanny ability to set the stuff off when she was near it, regardless of fire and fuses. Mid-way through the year before the elves had decided it was probably best to do the sheets Wednesdays and Sundays and Millie couldn’t help but agree with them. An inspection of the laundry room off to the kitchens had confirmed her suspicions that yes; she had her own shelf for her bed stuff. So really, Trent should have been more worried about what was already there, not what would be afterwards.

“The gunpowder isn’t dangerous,” She defended with a glare. “It’s those bloody potions that are so unstable, not the gunpowder. That is perfectly safe unless you’re, well, me and far too close to it. It’s a Finnigan trait - the tendency to blow one’s self up. No one has ever had to re-grow their eyebrows as many times as I have - I promise you that.” Millie smirked. “Hey - yeah! Hop to it mate. Where’s the sponge?” She paused at the jerk of his leg and she then poked him again, her fingers lingering. “Are you ticklish baby?” She questioned, a slow grin forming on her lips as she walked her fingers from the base of his heel to the tip of his toes. “That’s so sweet!” exclaimed she who was not ticklish at all.

In the back of her mind, Millie was wondering whether talking about people in the Bible the way they were was a sin. Maybe it was something worth asking her local priest after church on Sunday. She was nearly positive that it would go over well. Plus, he was bound to think about something other than the Bible while he was in church - his missus who had those legs to die for, the cute little Irish girl kicking her brother in the pews, the cute little Irish girl’s mother who was clearly gagging for it the way her chest was on display and the cute little Irish girl’s mother’s husband, absent as always. Okay, so he probably didn’t think quite like that but one and three was definitely a possibility and Millie was sure that her mother took a little too long collecting her vegetables from his office. That thought made her shudder even now, thinking about it.

“Well, if he wasn’t screwing her every day then something was wrong...that’s all I’m going to say,” She responded lazily, taking another swig from the beer. She was a gin girl, taking after mummy. Beer was sufferable. Millie quirked an eyebrow at Trent before frowning, her eyebrows knitting together and coming down over her eyes. “Sorry? Me naked - that’s your problem?” Millie’s frown turned into a glare and she shook her head. “Right, yeah, F*** it. Buy a club and we’ll all get completely wasted.” Millie scowled and drummed her fingers against the tin.

She rose at Trent’s suggestion and grabbed one of the towels off of the rail. She shook her head and stepped out of the bath before wrapping the towel around herself. Millie took a hair band off of her wrist and twirled her pony tail around before securing it in a bun. She leaned over and picked up her jeans as Trent began to talk, her hands diving into the pockets that were, as from last week, bottomless. She growled lowly before turning them over. She wasn't disappointed either because a number of things began to spill out but she only wanted two things and thankfully they came out first - her cigarettes and her lighter.

“Trent, we’re not Adam and Eve. Jesus. Adam licked her clean anyway.” Millie rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t jump in the bath with my brother anyway.” Millie made a face and began to push some of her spoils back into her jeans. “This isn’t me trying to communicate to you that I want to shag you. I wanted to have a bath with you - simple as that.” Subconsciously, Millie had begun to flick the lid of the lighter back and forth, letting it ignite but quenching it before it could grow. “It’s a bath, baby. It’s platonic. I mean seeing as you don’t actually want this,” She dropped her jeans and opened her towel to prove her point. “I don’t think we have a problem, do we?” Millie looked down at herself and pursed her lips. “You see, I don’t understand what the issue is.” She then shrugged her shoulders and closed the towel. “Whatever.”

Of course Millie would notice his weakness to tickles. He tried to keep calm and carry on ... drinking, but her finger-walk on his foot was getting a bit much, and Trent jerked again before he glared at his friend. She seemed to take offence at what he had said, and he stared curiously at her, thinking back on the effect of his words. And then Millie stood up, and Trent felt his eyes widen, remaining that way even when she stepped away and wrapped herself in a towel. He was talking at that time, but it felt as if his mouth had become another body, and he felt nothing except his eyes. It was evident that Millie was miffed, or at least, she looked like it to Trent. He thought again about what he had been saying, and frowned. Perhaps he had been rather harsh at her ever since she got topless at Dryad's. He was merely trying to protect her, wasn't he? But from what?

When Millie talked to him again when she got out of the tub, Trent merely looked at her and swallowed a ball of saliva at his throat. "I didn't mean that I thought you wanted to shag me. I ---" He stared again when the girl opened her towel. "Merlin!" He swore quietly. Then he tore his eyes from her body to her face. "Don't say that! I want this! No, I mean. I don't. No. I do but." He bit his lower lip. "It's not that I don't want it. I just ... if I do anything I might see your brother, your mother, and your father's faces while doing it. I -, well ... I mean, not that I want to see their faces at it. GAH!" He slammed a fist into the water, resulting in a big splash of water out of the tub and onto the floor.

He was frustrated, alright. Trent had some of the only-child syndrome. He needed to have his way, and he needed some feeling of control of sorts. Being put on a spot, he merely knew how to vent it by stomping his feet, smashing at things, or throwing things. It was not something to be proud of, of course. He would just say that he cannot help it. Trent let the look of anger subside from his face before turning to look at Millie. "No, I guess we don't have a problem." His eyes were imploring, but he did not mean them to be. Trent resorted to biting his lower lip, enough to feel like he was going to break the skin, before he stopped. Perhaps, a small part of him was telling him something he should have realised about his feelings for Millie. But he was not ready to deal with it.

Trent was just as adorable flustered as he was, well, not flustered. Millie wasn’t entirely sure why she was pushing his buttons. Perhaps it was so he’d say exactly what she wanted to hear. His words weren’t exactly the most tactile. She, in a way, did understand what he’d meant but she had taken it for face value to begin with and it had hurt. She’d always been fairly confident in her own skin and it was mostly because she didn’t give a toss about what anyone else thought. Trent’s opinion mattered to Millie though and his words had cut her deeper than she was willing to admit. Getting him flustered was a little bit of payback on her part, and it reaffirmed her belief that she wasn’t just the butch friend that was more of a guy than her brother was. It put her mind a little bit at ease though it was still whirling at top speed, taking notes on things that were entering her mind either as pictures or in text form. She didn’t understand much of it but her focus on the present and not the future allowed her to make sense of this time, this part of the story.

At his outburst, Millie took a step back. She bit her lip and frowned a little before moving back towards him. She leaned over the bath and smiled a little before reaching for his face. “You’re so silly,” She murmured, running her thumb across his abused lip. “I’m sorry baby.” She reached into the packet of cigarettes and pulled one from the cluster she’d stolen from her brother. She smiled at Trent and placed it behind his ear. “I just...Hm. I don’t know. We’re both silly. We’re a pair.” She laughed a little and wetted her lips before biting the inside of her cheek. “Come on. Out of the bath, you. The Ninja Soap has a knife I think.” Millie reached over and grabbed another towel off of the rail. She smiled and leaned forward, placing a kiss to the side of Trent’s lips. “Love you, Trent.” She murmured. “Even if you are an idiot; I still love you.”

Millie took a step back and unfolded the towel she’d grabbed for him. She opened it out and raised an eyebrow at him. “Come on baby, out you get. Oh god...these towels are so fluffy!” Millie cuddled it against her neck for a moment before laughing and opening it back out again. “See, baths aren’t so bad are they? Admittedly they’re better with a good book but...” Millie shrugged her shoulders. “Company is generally much preferred. What shall we do now?”