Railways

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances:

If there is any reaction, both are transformed.

-Carl Jung

By now they've been slumped in their little cabin for just barely an hour. Her eyes drift warily to the rattling glass doors which are hardly holding them both in; the glass patterned with the swipes of fingerprints, one somehow always smudged by another. Hers are in there somewhere too, she muses. Her feet bridge the gap between their seats, propped carelessly to the side of his head; combat boots tugging at sections of blonde hair as they tap out a rhythm. The thick, black, smears lilting under her eyes are goopy from the summer heat puffing through the space where the window is set high and lofty, and her eyes are hovering half-closed.

He's staring out the window. But by now he can see only wisps of green with just the occasional interruption of a house or street; and truthfully he's not paying attention anymore. For a moment he lifts his gaze and sees her: eyelids wavering and back impressed into the seat. Admittedly amused, he moves to avoid anymore damage to his scalp, and on a whim lifts his foot from the rattling floor to nudge her in the side.

Electric blue eyes pop open and narrow just as quickly in pure disgust. He just laughs.

"What? I don't feel good..." she grumbles, eyelids blissfully falling shut again, " How can you stand this. The–" Grudgingly she gestures towards the quaking window sill, her hand waving wildly. The seats continue to lurch at each hitch in the tracks, and she groans again.

He shrugs, holding back a laugh that will only earn him another glare on her part. In the back of his mind he knows they should be looking out for themselves. Monsters could be anywhere on the train– the lady with the snack cart, the conductor, some other passenger. But it'd been an hour by now, hadn't it? He sinks a bit lower in his seat, glancing in two entirely different directions. One eye trained on the creaking glass doors and the other on her, as if speaking to the wiry hallway and the girl across from him at the same time.

"Well, I haven't ever really traveled by anything other than foot or bicycle, and even that was rare. I guess because you had to steal the bikes... but the adults noticed and always made me put them back," he reasons, "I don't know, I guess it just doesn't bug me. Maybe it's the novelty."

Her eyes don't open, but he can feel her considering him anyways, "Trust me, novelty wears off." She braces herself for the next set of careens and slides even further down in her seat, "Here's a brilliant idea, maybe we should just walk there instead. We'd probably find the place eventually. How hard can it be? It's by the sea so we just have to go... north, right? Then east. We're only a couple states away."

"I don't know, I actually kind of like it." He's left the hallway alone and is instead focused on the expression of her face, revolted in it's own right, though he's not sure if it's from the train of from what he's just said.

"You're kidding. What does that say about us as a team?" A grin surfaces on his face as she opens her eyes again, frustrated. She stares at him with and atrocious ferocity, and it occurs to him how different they are. He's practically laid back compared to her, and that's saying a lot from an ADHD kid. It's a minute before she opens her mouth again and another before she actually says anything. "So, you like the train, huh?"

"Well, like I said, considering my most "sophisticated" form of transportation 'till now has been bicycle..."

She just sighs, disgruntled, and rolls her eyes, "You're such a country boy," she mutters, a smile stretching her lips, "But I guess another ride couldn't hurt."

He's actually surprised she isn't more stubborn about it, but that's before she knocks him in the head with the tip of her shoe. He pushes it away and her smile twists into a smirk. "It won't hurt you at least. I'll be suffering major motion sickness right across from you."

"Yeah, we better find a nice bucket then." He mirrors her sly expression, "I knew it couldn't be that easy."

She shakes her head, "You did not. You totally believed me, but Hades- I still said I'd go, just not quietly."

Her mouth is shut and she actually looks calm for once, he quirks an eyebrow and studies her carefully. "So, be truthful, do you actually like the train now? You haven't complained for an entire ten minutes."

She tilts her head to the side, regarding the question then scanning his face for a hint to what he's getting at. The bangles on her wrist are rattling angrily as if desperately trying to remind her of the hour's terrors. She ignores them, not grimacing even once as the passing jolts resonate through the compartment walls. And finally, she answers, settling back into a triumphant simper. Her reply makes him smile.

"Never in a million years."