| Two a.m. on a school night Roman can be found sneaking through the manicured lawn, back past the glorious swimming pool, and unfortunately locked outside the back door. He likely forgot his house keys at his friend's house. "Shit," he whispers to himself, and rubbing a frustrated hand over his jaws, he suddenly remembers the window he left slightly open in the kitchen. There is some more tiptoe-ing done to reach said window which is located over the sink, and with his fingers he slides open the screen and then the glass. Only it's been a while since Roman's crawled through this window, and he's severely underestimated how wide his torso has gotten, rendering him rather stuck halfway through. "Shit," he whispers out once more.
Still high enough to have the munchies Amelia was heading into the kitchen for a late night snack. In her intoxicated state she finds the sight of Roman stuck in the window to be hilarious. "Oh snap!" She fishes inside the breastpocket of her She-Ra onesie (it's retro chic!) and pulls out her phone so she can take a photo of her stepbrother. "Smile, Ro. This one is a classic."
A groan. Perfect. Not only is Roman stuck in the window, head first, ass out, but now SHE's awake. "Fuck you," he scowls, pulling his black hood over his face with his free hand, and subsequently flipping his step sister the bird. This is all likely caught on camera. "When you're done documenting this do you sibling duty and help pull me through?" A hand extends forward for her to take should she be so kind.
Once the shutter has gone a couple of times Amelia tucks her phone away then approaches the window, "I think it might work better if I pushed you back out and then unlocked the door. You're going to fall and hit your head otherwise." She picks up the hand soap dispenser and squirts some onto her hand. "Suck it in, Ro," is the only warning she gives before shoving her hand down his body and using the soap to grease up the window frame. Squinting one eye shut and all the while praying she doesn't touch anything sensetive.
Roman automatically disregards Amelia's suggestion with, "No, no. I used to do this all the time in the old house. Trust me it's better if - What the!" Of course in the old house, the windows may have been a bit wider, and the boy himself may have been a tad less developed. "What the hell are you doing?" he squirms around in mild, watching her hands intently. They aren't too close to his goods but close enough to weird him out. Amidst the scent of the soap, Amelia may notice a slight skunky yet earthly smell on his hoodie, mixed in with a hasty spray of Axe.
"Yeah, well your old house was obviously different," mutters Amelia. "Now trust me. I've squeezed my way in and out of many a small window over the year." She wrinkles her nose at the smell, not that she can talk since she herself smells of similar undertones occasionally. "A little more soap should do the trick." She pulls her hand back and squirts more soap on it, then applies it to the other side of the window frame. "Thank fuck your dad sleeps with those whale sounds playing. You're moaning loud enough to wake the dead."
Roman wiggles around in protest at first. Only noticing that the soapy side has become rather slippery, he begins to think that maybe Amelia has a point here. "Oh yeah? And who's usually your designated soaper for when you do? Noah?" There's a hint of smirk there, remembering that the boy had come over just the other day. He puts up less resistance this time around, letting her apply the soap, only he avoids eye contact with her as it's done. No need to make this personal. "I fucking hate those whale sounds."
"Please, I've been sneaking out since I was ten. Noah's dad is a copper, he's got a strict curfew or else." Amelia cannot help but snort a laugh, "I hate them too, but it's better than that tantric music shit. God I don't want to think about what they do when that is playing." She stops her greasing up of the window and shudders with revulsion.
"Strict curfew? Maybe that means his dad's got a lock on his panties as well. If that's the case, I'm sorry for you, Amelia," Roman retorts as he's soaped up. Only the smug look on his face quickly pales at the idea of their dads doing what two people in love naturally do. Frowning, he pulls out the detachable faucet head from the sink below him, flips the cold water on and sprays it over his step sister's head. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
Amelia squeals as she gets sprayed with cold water. "You rat bastard!" She grabs quickly for a teatowel and dries off her face then snaps at him with it only to freeze as she hears a door open somewhere else in the house and the unmistakable sounds of whale song. "Shhhh!" she whispers and gives Roman a shove to push him back out the window before she ducks down behind the island so as to not to be seen.
Vindictive thing he is, Roman is ready to spray her again for bringing up such a topic. "Yeah well your onesie is stupid!" Only he stops upon hearing the whale song as well. And before he says anything more, he's shush and shoved out - with quite ease seeing as the soap did quite an adequate job of removing any traction. With a soft, panicky 'WHOA' Roman falls backward, letting go of the faucet and landing with a muffled THUMP onto the ground.
Slowly, carefully Amelia peeks and quickly resets the detachable facet then ducks down again and begins to crawl towards the laundry room, which also has a backdoor. Carefully inch by inch she closes the door, getting it shut just before Adam flicks on the lights in the kitchen. Praying that once he has got himself a drink or whatever it was he came down for, Roman's dad will leave again, Amelia stays as quiet as possible.
On his back, Roman remains still there in the perfectly green grass. He is in slight pain from the fall, he is soapy, he is high. To think that, all he was looking to do for the rest of the evening was crawl into his bed with a pack of poptarts while listening to music. "Goddamit," he mutters and lets out a quiet exasperated sigh into the night hair while crawling quietly around to the back door by the laundry room.
Watching for it, the moment the light under the door to the kitchen is gone Amelia flips the lock on the backdoor to the patio and opens it, hissing out a whisper, "Roman?" She is kneeling next to the door, not wanting to be seen - despite the chance of that being slim now that Adam has gone back upstairs (or so she thinks).
And suddenly from behind the door a hand suddenly emerges down on the floor, gripping tightly around Amelia's ankle.
She jumps but thankfully doesn't shout this time, clamping her hand over her mouth. With wide eyes Amelia presses herself back against the washing machine, heart pounding in her chest.
Rising up from behind the door, Roman emerges doubling over in silent laughter, trying to stifle any sound in his soapy sleeve. He's laughing so hard, he snorts. "Hope you didn't pee yourself." But he's in now! And as his amusement wanes, he slips into the house, shutting the back door quietly behind him to leave the glow of the streetlights outside as the only dim light source in the dark room. An eye first goes to the laundry room doorway from whence Amelia came, but Roman steps quietly forward after to hold his ear to the door. "Did you hear him go up?" A very very light whisper.
Amelia thumps Roman silently with her arm, not as a way to hurt him too much but just enough to get even. She shakes her head at his whisper, adding her own, "No, but the light went out." As she is in her PJs she offers, "I'll go first. I can say I came down for something." Because at least she was in before midnight and didn't break curfew, unlike earlier in the week when she didn't really come home at all.
Roman smirks at the thump, taking one last listen against the door. "Well alright then," he says, stepping out of the way and presenting the door to her like a gentleman. But before she steps out, he'll ruffle the top of her head like a master to his puppy, quietly slipping in, "Many thanks, Baby Spice."
Amelia snorts, muttering to herself, "At least it wasn't Geri." She adopts a look of a sleepy girl, rubbing tiredly at her eye as she heads towards the hallway, leaving the kitchen as if she were to head upstairs. Amelia even yawns for effect. Of course the hair mussing helped it make it look like she had been asleep.
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