twenty eight | what is love

[strike_you_out]

[Rather than read the assigned acts of Romiette and Juleo, or whatever it was called, Slugger is finding every imaginable reason to procrastinate. He discovers that knocking icicles off the roof and shoveling the driveway are good excuses for wasting time, though he finishes both a bit too quickly. After the last of the snow has been shoveled from the driveway, he turns to empty the mailbox and idly flips through its contents piece by piece.

There's nothing remarkable in the mail today, only a few envelopes, a post card, and a magazine. The magazine, at least, he could mutilate later for fun. On the back cover is an ad featuring the title "Young Love" in which a little girl is pictured kissing the cheek of a little boy. Slugger pauses. Young love? Dropping the snow shovel, he looks up, wide-eyed and silent as if stricken with a sudden realization.]


Phone

[Slugger gives the telephone a long and apprehensive stare before he dares to pick it up. Holding it to his ear, he opens his mouth to speak... then quickly hangs up. Several deep breaths later he tries again, this time with more success.]


Hi.


What do you do when--

[He briefly freezes up, near horrified at what he's about to admit.]


...when you think you love a girl?

Comments

[questionauthority]

[What he'll find is Edward overturned in his chair, having leaned back just a bit too far and having lost his balance just after Slugger raised his question on the phone. With the green of his jacket and the way he's sprawled out on his back, he almost looks a bit like a turtle taken by surprise. Even upside-down, he can tell just who's decided to come in and investigate.]

...Slugger.

[Awkward.]

[strike_you_out]

[He slowly makes his way closer until he's standing to the side of Edward's chair.]

...

What happened?

[questionauthority]

What does it look like? I fell.

[Seething, he begins to push himself up off the ground, righting the chair after he's back on his feet.]

From the sound of it, so did you.

[strike_you_out]

[Well obviously, Edward.]

Huh? But I didn't-- [...Oh. Thinking he understands what Edward is getting at, Slugger dips his head to hide beneath the visor of his cap. So that's why Edward fell over.]

You were listening?

[questionauthority]

I couldn't help but overhear. [That's a nice way of putting it. He rubs the back of his head, taking a seat in his chair once again and facing Slugger.]

Ai. That's her name, yes?

[strike_you_out]

[Slugger nods. He knows you know who she is, Edward. You've seen her over here, you've stopped her from entering his room once. She's seen you in spandex and has shown you glimpses of Hell. It's almost as if she's apart of the family.]

[questionauthority]

Right.

[There's a little noise in the back of his throat, one that sounds like some kind of mix between "Aha!" and "I was afraid of that." After what they've gone through before, Edward's still not Ai's hugest fan. But Slugger's fond of her. Ema and Scout, too. Perhaps he should try and give the little monster the benefit of the doubt.]

So. [He folds his hands together, fingers laced as he leans back thoughtfully.] "What do you do when you think you love a girl?" That's the question you want answered. But in order to do so, you need to ask yourself something else. "What is the key to this person's heart?" "Will she reciprocate?" "Is she worth it?"

Women are riddles, Slugger. Each of them with their own set of mysteries to be solved.

[Brace yourself, kiddo. You're in for some sage, sage advice.]

[strike_you_out]

[At that, he dares to briefly peek up at Edward, a flash of confusion clouding his gaze.]

I... I just want to know if I should do something. Or nothing.

[questionauthority]

Well, the answer to that should be obvious.

[A pause, then:]

Do something.

[strike_you_out]

[Slugger bites his lip uncertainly.]

So... tell her?

[questionauthority]

If you're sure.

[strike_you_out]

[Pulling out a chair for himself, he sits and slumps over in the seat, elbows resting on his knees.]

What if I'm not?

[questionauthority]

[Good question.]

Riddle me this. Why is a welder like a man in love?

[strike_you_out]

[Answering this requires knowledge of both welding and love, neither of which Slugger knows anything about.]

Why?

[questionauthority]

Because they both carry a torch.

[There's still a chance to not take anything this guy has to say seriously.]

[strike_you_out]

[Slugger looks up at him still not getting it, but for fear of looking stupid, he'll nod his head after a bit then return to slouching.]

Oh.

...

...

Where can I get a condom? [He heard he needs one.]

[questionauthority]

[...did you hear that, Slugger? It's the sound of the Riddler's mind snapping in two.]

...a what? [He had just misheard that question, right? This isn't seriously a thing that's happening right now.]

[strike_you_out]

[...Why is everyone so weird when talking about wrapping paper?]

A condom. So I can put it on the thing I want to give her.

[questionauthority]

[Yep. Goodbye, brain. That was a fun couple of decades using you.]

You'll be giving her nothing like that! You're---what, thirteen? Fourteen years old?

[strike_you_out]

[Slugger straightens and folds his arms in a display of defiance. Horribly confused as he is, he's not about to give up on his plans without some sort of explanation.]

So?

[questionauthority]

So you're far too young for that sort of thing. At least wait until you both turn seventeen before even considering it. Maybe eighteen.

[If either of you even age.]

[strike_you_out]

I can't wait that long. [Especially since those ages aren't reachable for either one of them.]

It's just flowers.

[questionauthority]

You're going to have to---[Wait.] Flowers?

...you were planning on giving her flowers. Wrapped with a condom.

[strike_you_out]

The Captain said I would need one.

[Gift wrapping flowers sounds kind of hard but don't look at him. It isn't like he understands your bizarre human rituals.]

[questionauthority]

[...oh. This explains so much.]

The Captain is an imbecile, Slugger. Pay him no mind. And try not to let him kill any brain cells of yours the next time he decides to offer you advice.