onteamdyson: (pondering)
Kenzi Malikov ([personal profile] onteamdyson) wrote in [community profile] kore_logs2013-01-02 03:00 pm
Entry tags:

I need you to be okay...

Who: Galen and Kenzi
What: After talking to Jesse, Kenzi is pretty freaking concerned about Galen. They need to talk. FRIENDSHIP POWER!
Where: House 20. Kitchen.
When: Late day 26 after this and this

Kenzi had been in her room when Galen brought him to the house. Jesse. She'd heard the steps in the hallway and then Galen's door open and close. Not sure which one had gone in, she waited. Sitting on her bed, knees up, good arm hugging them to her chest. A few minutes passed before she realized that sinking feeling she'd been getting was a mixture of concern and mild jealousy.

Jesse was from back home. He knew Galen. He'd spent time with him and probably knew way the hell more about him than Kenzi could ever hope to. It definitely wasn't a romantic jealousy. If anything, it was protective. Galen was her friend. She was already closer to him than she was to people she'd met on day one. The way Jesse had reacted--

Quietly, she slides off the bed and slips out of her room. After a brief pause just outside Galen's door, she turns around and heads down the stairs, towards the kitchen.

Someone's definitely in there. Taking a deep breath and hoping that it's Phil, she peeks in with her fingers curling around the edge of the wall.
gleans: (angst angst angst)

[personal profile] gleans 2013-01-02 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Galen honestly feels a little lost. It's like the first day all over again; there's a whole new slew of questions he needs answered, only this time he can't just ask, because Jesse isn't telling. Jesse, somehow, is two months ahead of him, and somewhere in those two months, Galen did something. Something to warrant Jesse threatening to hurt him, apparently. It's making him feel sick, and he almost wants to go to bed, too.

Instead, he's curled up on a kitchen chair with his legs crossed, hunched over the notebook in his lap and a mug of crappy coffee on the table. He's not writing, just reading, so when there's movement by the doorframe, it catches his eye, and he looks up.

Oh. He smiles a little, reaches under his glasses to rub at an eye. "Hey, Kenz."