[SCENE] Julian & Amara ^_^

[hellion-x.livejournal.com]

Earlier today:

It was cold, despite the bright shining sun -- the ironic mark of an autumn day. Many mutants had braved the biting winds however, perhaps because of the lying sky, and Amara was one of them.

Bundled in a pea coat and a scarf she was nuzzling her nose in, Amara was taking a quiet stroll amongst crunching leaves, thinking about a warm cup of coffee. Her blue eyes scanned the grounds, taking in the day through lone and quiet observation. She'd started at the front of the mansion and intended to walk the perimeter -- she wasn't halfway through when a spot of jet-black and orange beckoned her eyes.

She slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. The weather was freezing, but all Julian Keller was wearing was a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt, his charming smile flashing as he dodged another mutant's block and dunked a basket.

She took a few quick steps, gulping the distance between where she had been standing and the edge of the basketball court quickly with her long strides, and called out to the older boy. "Jules!"

He turned, dribbling the ball in between his legs and in circles around himself, and saw her before turning back to the game, not replying in the slightest. Amara furrowed her eyebrows, wondering why he didn't even acknowledge her with a wave, and stood on the edge of the concrete, repeating her pet name for him. "Jules!"

The other boy he was playing with, a slightly shorter boy with green scaly skin, paused momentarily to glance at Amara; Julian took the opportunity to circle the other mutant and dunk another basket. He then hung from the rim with a self-satisfied smirk. The other boy whipped his head around and let out a groan.

"Dammit!" He called.

Julian agilely jumped down and called the ball back with his powers. "Learn to pay more attention, Anole," he said snidely, heaving the ball hard into the mutant's chest. "Maybe next time you'll win."

Anole caught it with a frown and then threw it back, the orange ball colliding with Julian's stomach hard. "Shut up, Julian," he retorted, passing Amara to pick up his stuff. He smiled tentatively at her and shrugged on his backpack, stuffing iPod buds in his ears. "Do me a favor and smack him around, yeah?" He walked off back towards the mansion.

Amara minutely watched the younger boy go before turning back to the sound of a bouncing ball. Julian looked at her once, face blank, and continued to play alone.

She pursed her lips and watched him, beginning her walk up and down the edge of the court, balancing on the concrete border with her arms out to her sides. "So... What? You're not talking to me now?" she asked jokingly, but when he didn't respond and continued to simply dribble, she began to think that he was actually avoiding her. "Jules?"

"What?" He snapped, not bothering to look over at her, voice harsh.

She had turned to begin walking back over her trail, but stopped and turned to face him. "What's wrong with you? Sheesh," she began walking back, her tongue poking out of her mouth, concentrating on her balance, and she started speaking again, tongue relaxing back. "I'm just trying to strike up conversation," she spoke over her shoulder, voice raised slightly so that he could hear her from her angle, and she nearly stumbled off the concrete before regaining her stance again.

"Sheesh, I don't know, princess," he mocked, voice just as acidic as before, "what do you think is wrong with me?" He threw the ball into the basket again and then continued dribbling, each collision like thunder on the asphalt.

Amara paused and frowned, spinning on the toes of her foot to look at him, even though his back was still to her. "I don't know," she answered. "You tell me."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't want to steal your spotlight," he said, spinning to glare at her, ball crisscrossing between his legs. Her balance faltered a little and her foot slipped down into the grass. "You're so good at pointing out all of my flaws."

She regained her balance, standing on one leg as the other one raised to rest on its heel, watching him. "What are you talking about?"

He stared at her for a few seconds and then turned away, missing a basket and then jogging to pick up the fallen ball. "Nothing. Just forget it."

Letting out a short, humourless chuckle, sobering quickly, she stepped down onto the blacktop, watching him dribble with his back turned to her. "No, what were- what were you saying?"

"I said forget it," he repeated firmly.

Amara rolled her eyes, sure that something was bothering him. "And I said no," she took a step toward him and he turned around, shooting a basket and missing again, her dodging the ball's returning path before he caught it. She continued, "Is something wrong?"

She picked up the ball and held it tightly to her chest, ignoring Julian as he straightened and sighed, holding out a hand for it without meeting her eyes. "Nothing's wrong."

"Tell me what's wrong," she demanded softly.

"Amara," he started, clearly frustrated with her. "Just -- will you just give me the damn ball?"

"No," she argued, putting her foot down. She might have laughed at how ironic the situation was. When did she become the persistent one?

He didn't respond, studying some point above her shoulder and to the right, hand still out.

She sighed and placed her palm on top of his instead, her naturally always-warm fingers wrapping around his cold ones. "Will you just talk to me for once?" She asked, pursing her lips.

His eyes finally found hers after a short moment. "It's nothing," he said, voice low, and then extracted himself from her grip. "I'm sorry."

She raised an eyebrow, smiling a small smile. "I'm still not giving you the ball until you tell me what's wrong."

Julian rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed sound. "Amara, come on."

"Tell me," she reiterated once more.

He sniffed and rubbed his reddening cold nose, eyes still in a perpetual roll. "I can take the ball from you whenever I want, you know," he finally smiled, hands glowing faintly blue with promise.

It was Amara who rolled her eyes this time, huffing out a breath, the cold exposing it and the breath was visible. "You're avoiding the question again," she tucked the ball under her arm tightly.

He eyed the ball for a moment and then crossed his arms. "I'll play you for it."

"What?"

"One-on-one, princess. I win, I don't have to tell you anything. I get my ball. You win, I'll tell you whatever you want."

She pursed her lips, considering it. "Jules, you know I'm terrible at this."

"Hey, if you can't do it..."

"Fine!" she passed the ball to him, frustrated, but willing.

He caught it deftly. "Thanks," he said, walking off the court with a shit-eating grin, grabbing his littered sweatshirt on the way.

Amara, open-mouthed, stared at his retreating form for a short second before chasing after him. "Hey! I thought we were going to play!"

"We will," he laughed softly, pulling on the hoodie half-on and spinning the ball on one finger. "But I never said when." Then he winked, cradling the ball underneath his arm.

Dashing to stand in front of him, she crossed her arms, causing him to stop walking, and was staring at him. "Fine, we won't play. Talk to me. You didn't really think that that was going to work, did you?"

"Worth a shot," he smiled apologetically, and then side-stepped her.

She stepped when he stepped, not letting him off the hook just yet. "Would you just talk already?"

"Listen, princess," he started, grin still on his face. He reached out and placed a hand on her waist, walking in a half-circle to get around her as he spoke. "I can't stay mad at you. I'm sorry for being a prick. Let it go and don't worry your royal head about it." He let her go and continued his way to one of the back doors.

Amara walked behind him for a moment before dashing ahead of him to the door he was heading toward, her back placed against it, not planning on letting him in. She spoke up once he had arrived close enough. "You were upset, and you wouldn't say why. If you tell me, and tell me honestly, I'll let you in. Promise," she raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"You'll let me in right after I tell you?" He clarified, pulling on the rest of his sweatshirt.

She pouted, caught. "Yes."

He came closer, reaching out to take hold of the doorknob next to her hip. He smirked down at her. "Fine," he answered, and then he sobered a bit, his smirk loosing its edge. "I was angry because you thought so little of me the other day. Happy?"

Looking up at him, she raised an eyebrow questioningly, shaking her head slowly. "Thought so little of you?"

"The whole double date shit or whatever," he explained fleetingly, trying to brush it off. "Now move or I'll move you."

She used her heels as leverage against the door, not moving. "You were upset by my asking you if you had talked to Rogue about it?" she asked, confused, still not quite understanding why or what he was angered about.

He sighed, exasperated. "When you said I ruin everything and I don't care about what you think and..." He trailed off, looking down at her confused face again and exhaling. He gave her a half-smile and a one shouldered shrug. "Is the toll paid in full yet?"

She gave him a look, a look that implied that she couldn't quite will up an argument against her previous words and that she agreed with them, at least halfheartedly. "You don't want to talk about it?" she asked, half ignoring his question.

"No," he answered easily.

"Jules," her tone was one of disbelief, "you can talk to me. If something's bothering you, you can talk to me."

Some of the playfulness and hesitation trickled out of his expression and he sighed through his nose, palm flattening on the door over her shoulder. "I know," he said gently, seriously. "But it's fucking freezing out here, sweetheart," he continued, levity entering his voice once again, his other hand twisting the doorknob. He used her weight and his palm to push in the door slightly. "And I'd really like to get inside now."

The door opening, Amara moved to stand next to the doorframe and Julian walked in, shutting the door back, the cold air no longer entering the mansion. He started walking down the hallway, and she followed, talking as she began shrugging off her scarf and coat. "So, are you going to talk about this or not?"

"No," he answered again, entering the kitchen and heading straight for the fridge. Amara sighed and watched as he pulled out an assortment of seemingly un-mixable foods to eat.

She leaned against the kitchen island, pursing her lips as she continued to watch him, and he didn't look her way, obviously hungry. "Why are you so stubborn about things like this?" she asked him, only a little frustration in her voice.

"About things like what?" He asked carelessly through a bite of leftover cold pizza.

"Talking," Amara made a face as she watched him eat, not going to ask him about his eating habits. "I try to ask you when something's wrong, and you just... you don't ever really talk about any of it."

He scoffed, sitting at a stool at the island, chugging back water. "Sorry, sweetheart. Don't see why every feeling I have should be over-analyzed."

A single eyebrow raised. "So, keeping everything inside is healthier?" she looked at him incredulously, just wanting him to stop being the way he was.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't keep everything inside, princess." He shook his head, turning back to his food. "What is with you and always wanting to talk about my feelings? I swear to god I don't remember you being this introspective when we were dating." The last sentence was grumbled.

She let out a chuckle. "Well if you're going to go around snapping at me anytime your feelings get into a tizzy, over something I said, it's sort of important for you to talk to me about it. And- you never let me even get this close before. If you haven't forgotten, your 'talking' was even worse at that time." She finished, both of her eyebrows raised.

He let out a one breathy laugh. "Fair points."

She smiled shortly, continuing her lean and her feet were bouncing rhythmically behind her on the floor, and she watched him eat even more food grotesquely. Sighing, she pulled up another stool and sat down on it. "So... why'd that bother you, anyway? What I said before, I mean."

He shrugged, glancing over at her from the corner of his eyes before going back to his pizza. "Because it was you."

Her right eyebrow immediately shot up, and she smiled. "What does that have to do with anything? I'm sure if Alison said the same thing, you'd just laugh it off with her."

"Probably," he answered, putting down his food and looking over to her, expression soft. "Remember -- remember Addie?"

Amara made a face and looked away. "Yes," she answered, grudgingly meeting his eyes again, the memories of the past not quite leaving her fast enough.

"After everything the slut said about how I was going to go fuck some other girl the first chance I got--"

Amara rose a hand with a grimace. "I remember, Jules."

He swallowed and angled towards her, leaning in her direction slightly, food forgotten. "And you told her off and we--" He stopped. "You said that you knew I wouldn't hurt you like that because I was better than that."

She watched his expression, which was softer than usual, and thought about what he was speaking of, looking at him almost incredulously. "I still don't understand what that has to do with what we're talking about."

He had went back to his pizza, chewing faltering slightly before he began chomping again, speaking through his bite of food. "Everything."

Her expression didn't waver, still confused. "A girl you used to know in California has to do with my wanting you to go on a double-date?"

"No," he almost laughed. He looked over to her, the amused glint in them fading into something gentler. "Sweetheart, you always believed in the best in me," he explained, and then sighed, eyes growing darker. "The other night it felt like the only thing you were seeing was the worst."

"I wasn't seeing the worst in you, Jules. I wouldn't- you know that I don't really think all of that," she paused, thinking about what she wanted to say, feeling disappointed that he thought that she felt that way. "Why do you think I want Bobby to get to know you? So he'll see you at least half the way I do." she smiled warmly.

He smiled back and gulped the rest of his water. "Told you it wasn't worth analyzing," he finished off, raising to his feet.

"So you're going to at least try and be nice to him?" she watched him place his dishes into the sink, turning on his heels, leaning against the counter, and he looked at her.

"Nah," he grinned. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, princess; I said I cared what you think of me," he crossed his arms, "not the headcold."

Amara stood up from her stool, walking to stand in front of him, mimicking him and crossing her arms, pouting. "Just do it for me. I'm just asking for you to try." Finishing, she pursed her lips again.

"Fine," he grunted. When she still stood there, looking at him with eyes narrowed he sighed defeatedly. "I'll try to be nice to Bobby."

She smiled thankfully, taking a step forward to grip him in a short, soft hug, "Thank you."

"Anytime," he smiled, wrapping his arms around her.