For a good part of the day Stacy had been hunched over her room’s desk, with an overworked pencil in hand and a set of headphones blasting Blind Guardian’s “Barbara Ann”, cycling through the same scene over and over. She’d simply sit, twirling her pencil, until inspiration hit. She’d then begin scribbling furiously before finally huffing in frustration, scrunching her work up and tossing it into a nearby bin. She’d then repeat the entire process all over again, ad nauseam. The young artist’s muse had abandoned her and all she could do was attempt to stir it through rough sketches and a bit of energetic music. As the day grew dark however, she finally allowed a small sigh to escape her lips. Having finally conceded defeat, Stacy slipped the pencil behind her ear and stood from her chair.<br/><br/>After a nice long, languid, stretch, the Asian removed her headphones and tossed them atop the desk. She then slipped out from the room and made her way through the apartment, looking for a little distraction after being cooped up in her room for such a lengthy period, until she stumbled upon the small gathering in the kitchen. Driven by curiosity as well as the familiar sound of her love’s voice, Stacy shuffled past Derrick Cuthers with a sheepish, “Excuse me,” although not before stealing a brief glance of the handsome paramedic. Damp, dishevelled, hair topped a lean, squeaky clean, build, still marginally steaming from the shower like a hot bun right out of the oven. It was enough to leave the teen feeling a little flushed as she past. It was also enough to cause her tummy to grumble in protest over the sudden thought of food and the appalling lack of any actual eating. Cuther’s glasses, if slightly misty, added that charming academic look while offset by just the barest hint of stubble.<br/><br/>Mike Reyes was almost on the opposite end of the spectrum, with a stocky build and a neat, if rugged, beard. He also had that “just showered” aura but clearly with a lot more care taken in neatening his appearance. It left Stacy suddenly feeling a little grimy, a thought bolstered more by the amount of just-clean people surrounding her rather than any truth, but thankfully she had her “grimy” love to count on for support. Delighted to see the spunky teen, Stacy offered a gleeful, “Megan” before quickly bee-lining to her love’s side and wrapping an affectionate arm around her waist. “So… what did I miss,” she asked with a mix of excitement and curiosity over the small meeting she’d just interrupted.<br/><br/>While she appeared almost blissfully unaware, Stacy hadn’t missed the last character in the kitchen. It would have been difficult to considering the fiery beacon of curly red locks which adorned her head. Just the thought of Megan being in the same room with another woman caused a slight twinge of jealousy in the young teen and yet it was more a jealousy born of indoctrination than anything else. She reminded herself of the agreement for an open relationship she made with Megan, to stifle the uncomfortable feelings; a fact which both of them had already exploited on one time or another. Even so, this only made it a little easier for Stacy but it didn’t completely eradicate the brainwashing she’d undergone as a child of what a “normal” relationship was meant to be.