Taryn should be studying. She should be writing a paper. She should be doing any number of things.

She's lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering if she dares experiment with dressing up and going out. There's certainly nothing else to do... (Ignoring all that uninteresting schoolwork, of course.)

Jeans, purple t-shirt with a stylized picture of a lion and the words 'Roar of Love' on the front--it's a ballet her old studio did, ages ago. Yay C.S. Lewis--and neither shoes nor socks.

Bah. She's bored.

There's a soft, hesitant tap on her door. It's Keye. He's dressed himself up (insofar as he is capable, being completely fashion-blind) in a turtleneck and bondage pants (in clashing colors, of course), and he has flowers.
This is probably a bad sign. When he thinks of presents, Keye thinks of stuffed animals, not flowers.

"C'min."

Taryn doesn't see flowers and think 'bad sign.' Taryn sees flowers and thinks 'Oou, pretty flowers, for me? oh neat, squee!'

In almost literally those words.

Eh heh.

Keye lets himself in and stands in his usual position just inside the door, holding the flowers straight out in front of him. He doesn't look terribly happy. He looks like he wants to run.
"Um. Hi. Hi, Taryn."

Taryn squealed.

"Eeeeeeeee, flowers!"

There was a peck on the cheek, there was seizing of the blooms, and then...

Blink.

"Waitasec, what's wrong?"

He blushes and looks down, feeling even guiltier, because he didn't just get her flowers to make her happy. He should do things like that.
"Um. I'm sorry. I'm...I came to apologize."

"For...?"

She's giving him a curious look. She's not angry, yet.

Please note the 'yet.'

"For, um..."
I can't say it.
But he can. He reassures himself that it's nothing totally awful, like that mess with Dave and Fortuna...
"Fortryingtokillmyselfandnotcallingyou."

Blink.

It takes a moment for what he said to register.

She lays the flowers on the bed and gives him a fierce kind of hug.

"You sort of did. You left me that weird as heck message. Is that what you're talking about? What did you do?"

He's not exactly in trouble. Yet.

"I, I...ah..." he hugs her back, burying his face in her hair. He thinks he's in trouble, so he'll take what he can get. "Um, I al...almost j-jumped off the building. Izzat how L...Dr. Barclay knew...to look for me? He said you were worried."

"I guess. I called him. And I was."

She squeezed him and pulled back, glaring up at him in a way that made it seem like she was towering over him. It must be all the practice with the little ones at home.

"Don't you do that to me, boyo. Also you promised, remember?"

"I remember now," he says, shrinking back guiltily. "But I forgot then. I know it's awful of me. Teague said so too."

"What do I have to do, tie a string around your finger? 'Call Taryn when you're feeling suicidal' kind of thing? Tape something to the inside of your glasses? How can I make you remember?"

Any suggestions?

He shrugs, looking to the side and down. He thinks he's getting yelled at, and he doesn't like it. There's this awful squirming feeling in his stomach.
It happens sometimes; he knows he's wrong, and there's the guilt, and he gets embarrassed and uncomfortable, and then he gets belligerent. It happened a lot when he was in high school.
"I get the idea," he growls.

Taryn doesn't back down.

"Then how come you haven't remembered? If there's something I should do to help you remember, I want to do it. I don't want to get a call someday from Dr. Barclay and have him tell me that you jumped off the roof or something. Cooperate with me."

He almost snarls at her again...he almost storms out. But he remembers just in time that he isn't sixteen, and she isn't a teacher. She's Taryn, and he can at least remember that he likes her. So he takes a deep breath and calms himself down.
"I...I dunno. Something I can keep with me...?"
The knot around the finger doesn't sound like such a bad idea, actually, except that it would eventually come off.

"One of those rubber bracelet things, maybe?"

She's not quite sure why he's angry. Although I must say that she'd rather he snarled at her than stood meekly and let her lash him. Not that that's what she's trying to do, here.

"I could write on it with permanent marker or something?"

He's trying to cooperate, at the moment.
"Umm..." A slight grin (there's still some anger in there, mixed with guilt, mixed with humiliation...it's a fun smile). "Not rubber. I chew on them, and then they break. But, um, if you had cloth or hemp or something?"

"Well, I don't have anything right now, but I can make or buy it. Won't take me long, either."

She has quite a good reason to do this as a rush job, don't you think?

And now that she has a solution sort of thing, she feels somewhat better. Still rather angry with him, though. Breaking promises is a bad thing!

"Okay. Um...thanks. Sorry." he put his hands behind his back, twisting them around each other. "For the inconvenience, and for...um, the other thing."

"Bracelet's not an inconvenience. A heart attack might be, which is why you're not going to do something stupid again and give me one, right?"

She's too young to have a heart attack. But don't tell her that. She's making a point, after all.

He nodded, shamefaced. That was a lot like what Alexander had said. If they were in agreement, they must be right.
"Okay."

"Good."

Pause.

"Now. Give me a kiss, you enormous idiot."

I have the feeling that it's going to be one of those 'you really aren't dead' kinds of kisses, on her part.

He grins lopsidedly, winds his arms around her lower back and shoulders, and kisses her.
Oh, and he dips her, too.

Keye likes old movies, and he doesn't appreciate the sniggering.

"Mmmmm!"

That was fun.

Taryn hasn't seen a lot of old movies, but if this is what they inspire, she thinks she might like them.