Chelsea Sandstrom (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
psychometric) wrote2007-02-19 11:00 pm
psychometric) wrote2007-02-19 11:00 pm
Unexpected Guests
Chelsea has just logged on in the chat room, when things get very... very strange.
There is a light tapping at her window.
Chelsea frowns a little, wondering if the wind is picking up, but doesn't look over yet.
Jonathan taps again, quietly. This is better than knocking. Less trouble.
This time Chelsea gets up, after telling everybody she'll be right back, and goes over to see what's going on outside.
Jonathan is outside! He's just sitting there, very, very serious.
Chelsea just about has a HEART attack when she realizes someone's outside of her window! Fortunately she recognizes Jonathan before she can do something awful like scream. Catching her breath, she opens the window a little way, and then has to open the storm window because Pennsylvania windows are armored like that. Only about a foot, though. Her voice is a whisper. "Jonathan? What are you doing here?"
"You weren't online," he says, with a shrug, and... careful perching. He's still thinking this is a perfectly normal, good idea. "Anyway, hi."
"I just got online. I had to do chores and homework." She blinks, very much offbalance. "Jonathan, you need to... like... call when you want to come over. And knock on the door and stuff. Gran's not feeling well tonight."
"Y...oh, well, I th... I thought... I would just come over, because she would say no." This is still -mostly- a good idea.
This logic seems to completely escape Chelsea. "Don't you think she'd be even more likely to say no if she knew you tried to come over without asking first?"
"... May I come over?" He tilts his head a little. Don't people do this in books and tv and all the time in real life, seriously?
Her eyes widen, unbelieving that he's not understanding this. "No, not right now. Gran's not feeling well. I've been helping her with everything tonight, and it's late. She doesn't like it when I have people over late, even when she *does* feel well."
Jonathan frowns. She doesn't want him to be here? "Oh. W-well. Oh. Okay, I... um... I j-just thought... I just thought...I... um... okay..." He shakes his head, and inches away, on his perch.
It makes Chelsea feel vaguely guilty, as she realizes that Jonathan probably really doesn't understand this stuff. "I'm sorry, Jonathan. That's why I said you should call first. It's not that I don't want to see you. Really it's not. But this is a bad time and if you'd called I could have told you that before you came over."
"S'a bad time, I know, I know, it's bad, I know, I'm leaving." He climbs off the windowsill, muttering to himself, under his breath, all the while, without making eye contact at all.
Chelsea can't make out what he's muttering. Damn, it's cold out... she feels bad about not letting him in, but she can't tonight. Ugh, her arms are covered in gooseflesh now. "Sorry," she says one more time, before she has to close the windows.
Jonathan doesn't come back. Maybe he went home!
Chelsea has to go pull on a sweater now, before she sits back down at the computer. She facepalms for a moment.
There is a light tapping at her window.
Chelsea frowns a little, wondering if the wind is picking up, but doesn't look over yet.
Jonathan taps again, quietly. This is better than knocking. Less trouble.
This time Chelsea gets up, after telling everybody she'll be right back, and goes over to see what's going on outside.
Jonathan is outside! He's just sitting there, very, very serious.
Chelsea just about has a HEART attack when she realizes someone's outside of her window! Fortunately she recognizes Jonathan before she can do something awful like scream. Catching her breath, she opens the window a little way, and then has to open the storm window because Pennsylvania windows are armored like that. Only about a foot, though. Her voice is a whisper. "Jonathan? What are you doing here?"
"You weren't online," he says, with a shrug, and... careful perching. He's still thinking this is a perfectly normal, good idea. "Anyway, hi."
"I just got online. I had to do chores and homework." She blinks, very much offbalance. "Jonathan, you need to... like... call when you want to come over. And knock on the door and stuff. Gran's not feeling well tonight."
"Y...oh, well, I th... I thought... I would just come over, because she would say no." This is still -mostly- a good idea.
This logic seems to completely escape Chelsea. "Don't you think she'd be even more likely to say no if she knew you tried to come over without asking first?"
"... May I come over?" He tilts his head a little. Don't people do this in books and tv and all the time in real life, seriously?
Her eyes widen, unbelieving that he's not understanding this. "No, not right now. Gran's not feeling well. I've been helping her with everything tonight, and it's late. She doesn't like it when I have people over late, even when she *does* feel well."
Jonathan frowns. She doesn't want him to be here? "Oh. W-well. Oh. Okay, I... um... I j-just thought... I just thought...I... um... okay..." He shakes his head, and inches away, on his perch.
It makes Chelsea feel vaguely guilty, as she realizes that Jonathan probably really doesn't understand this stuff. "I'm sorry, Jonathan. That's why I said you should call first. It's not that I don't want to see you. Really it's not. But this is a bad time and if you'd called I could have told you that before you came over."
"S'a bad time, I know, I know, it's bad, I know, I'm leaving." He climbs off the windowsill, muttering to himself, under his breath, all the while, without making eye contact at all.
Chelsea can't make out what he's muttering. Damn, it's cold out... she feels bad about not letting him in, but she can't tonight. Ugh, her arms are covered in gooseflesh now. "Sorry," she says one more time, before she has to close the windows.
Jonathan doesn't come back. Maybe he went home!
Chelsea has to go pull on a sweater now, before she sits back down at the computer. She facepalms for a moment.