She's pleasantly surprised that Gerry makes it through one song, let alone three of them. She honestly doesn't know how he keeps himself upright. It's like watching a skyscraper jump on a trampoline, its hundred stories swaying left and right to the beat of folk rock. He's unable to be stopped even by the chair he swears 'came out of nowhere', and she commends him for it— without saying, obviously.
By the end of the third song, the room teeters.
Gerry slings an arm over her shoulder. Carolina scowls, irritation surging like a flamethrower's pulse, and although she threads fingers in his shirt and begins to push him away, he's just as useful as an anchor.
"You're sweaty," She mutters, eyeing the wet sheen and black tendrils plastered across his forehead. For emphasis, Carolina draws her thumb across his skin and feels dangerous doing so. For some reason. Whatever happened to hands-off.
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Date: 2025-05-22 03:01 am (UTC)She's pleasantly surprised that Gerry makes it through one song, let alone three of them. She honestly doesn't know how he keeps himself upright. It's like watching a skyscraper jump on a trampoline, its hundred stories swaying left and right to the beat of folk rock. He's unable to be stopped even by the chair he swears 'came out of nowhere', and she commends him for it— without saying, obviously.
By the end of the third song, the room teeters.
Gerry slings an arm over her shoulder. Carolina scowls, irritation surging like a flamethrower's pulse, and although she threads fingers in his shirt and begins to push him away, he's just as useful as an anchor.
"You're sweaty," She mutters, eyeing the wet sheen and black tendrils plastered across his forehead. For emphasis, Carolina draws her thumb across his skin and feels dangerous doing so. For some reason. Whatever happened to hands-off.
"Let's leave."