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Post by prospice1 on May 31, 2011 18:52:27 GMT -5
 
Summer sucked. Exhibit A, the stupid high schoolers were out, which meant that they were wandering around Someplace looking for something to do. Exhibit B, people - mostly janitors - gave Henry odd looks when he skulked around the laboratory at odd hours. When typical college was in session, this was considered commonplace. Exhibit C, there were temporarily no freshmen. Plus it was hot. Usually, Henry tried to stay as far away from Beatz as humanly possible. However, seeing as how his personal stash of alcohol was at his house and his car had broken down, he really didn't have much of a choice that he could see. A Hobson's choice, really... either booze here or no booze anywhere. And the second wasn't really an option.
So he leaned on the bar sipping a gin and tonic and wishing that he had a legitimate reason to get wasted. He actually didn't know how he was going to get home now, although he could always walk... He'd always been a little scared of walking home, though. He lived on the "artsy" side of town in an apartment where there were a few square patches of missing carpet. He firmly believed that they had been cut out as evidence for some murder or other domestic crime.
He cradled his glass with one gloved hand, glaring around for a while at all the shiny-faced people around him. He recognized a few of them from Glencarry, but most of them he didn't know or didn't care about. A few seats down, sitting at the bar, was a petite woman with her legs crossed, a sweep of dark hair across her brow, red lipstick. Her boyfriend was either nonexistent or he'd gone off to do something, although in Henry's experience this kind of girl was usually taken or about to be. She wasn't really his type, anyway.... but heck... She half-turned and caught him staring and looked up with wide eyes.
"Heey sweetheart, what's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?" He knew he'd butchered it the moment he said it. She looked vaguely as if she was going to puke, then turned away and pretended she hadn't heard him. Henry rolled his eyes and turned back to his drink, still holding it in that peculiar, selfish way. He regarded the glass suspiciously, because it had, after all, come from behind the bar and he was well aware of the sort of sanitation in a place like this, but in the end decided that the alcohol was more important than whatever might be crawling around in it. Not that much could survive in this sort of thing. The girl was gone, he hadn't seen her leave. Oh, well. She hadn't been his type anyway.
He downed the rest of the drink, there hadn't been that much anyway. Since he didn't have that much money at the moment he was trying to make them last as long as possible. His main source of actual income had been stripped from him recently, when he'd been kicked off of a research project for... various misconducts... "Over here, use the same glass," he piped up, interrupting the barman's chat with another customer. He looked up, annoyed, but obliged. Henry supposed that he'd have to get a job soon if he wanted to stay in his apartment - no matter how crappy it was - at all, but he knew that he couldn't take being ordered around like that and forced to obey.
"this is your character talking"
"this is someone else talking"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font] tagged for anyone with 590 words.[/color] template by deltagrace @ cautiontwopointohsteal this and ill blast your ears with highly addictive jpop!
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Post by simonedelautre on Jun 7, 2011 20:48:16 GMT -5
 stop there and let me correct it ,[/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
An impeccably dressed female walked into the bar. She had near perfect posture and walked in her stilettos like she owned the world. She had on a denim miniskirt and a low cut halter top in a shade of red that was almost as bright as her lipstick. One might assume she was dressed up just for going out, though she would use the excuse the summer heat made her so hot she had to dress skimpily.
Whatever the reason for her rather...slutty...wardrobe choice, she didn't seem to notice the stares that many people gave her as she walked in, looking about as out of place as a fish in a tree. She looked around and exhaled, showing her annoyance. The place was pretty crowded. Being the 'new kid on the block', she didn't know a single soul in the bar slash dance club. She avoided making eye contact, scanning the room for an empty seat that looked halfway safe. Everything seemed too close to someone else, too cramped, or just too in the middle of things. While she liked being the center of attention, she didn't want to draw attention to the fact that she had come here alone. Come on, how nerdy was that?
Finally she eyed the remaining open seats at the bar. One next to an old man who looked like he probably needed a good shower. Another next to a girl who was trying way to hard to look pretty, and seemed to be failing to catch the attention of the rather attractive man next to her. While Simone would have enjoyed sitting by the man, the seat on the other side of him was filled by another girl. In the end, she settled for an open seat next to a slightly geeky but safe looking guy, probably around her own age.
She headed over, wagging her hips in a way that showed off her curves and made her look all the more pretentious...and slutty. She wasn't a slut, not in the least. But she liked getting attention, and shameless flirting never hurt anyone. She smiled to herself, this time noticing a couple stares she got from the males she walked past. Her heels clicked across the floor as she approached the open bar stool. Never a shy one, she reached out and tapped the guy on the shoulder softly and pointed at the chair next to him. "Excuse me. You weren't saving this seat for anyone were you?" It was a question but it came out sounding more like a statement. Before she received an answer, she slid casually into the seat and gave him a bright smile. Then she turned and waved at the bartender to let him know she was ready to order a drink.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center] tagged henry
words 600
notes still adjusting to her
status finished
template nixxy of CAUTION 2.0
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Post by prospice2 on Jun 8, 2011 18:06:11 GMT -5
Henry had gotten his refill, so he was no longer looking for girls to hit on. He settled for glaring moodily at people walking towards him to prevent them from coming anywhere near. Unless he wanted them to, but that was practically no one. He was just sipping, trying to make the drink last longer since he technically didn't have that much money. He needed to find a job. But he abhorred the customer service aspects of most jobs available to college students. He already had his bachelor's and was working on his master's, but that didn't really help considering the best he could do during the school year was work very limited part time. So he would be looking for... he shuddered... what freshmen called a 'Summer Job'. Most of those seemed to involve bagging grocery items or rescuing drowning people, and Henry knew he wasn't capable of the latter.
So it happened that he wasn't looking towards the door when an incredibly attractive young woman walked in. This was probably just as well for him, considering that if he had seen her he probably would have done something inappropriate. And she probably wouldn't have sat down next to him. Generally he stopped these things before they started. When she tapped on his shoulder he jumped about ten feet in the air, gloved hands instinctively wrapping around the glass to prevent his drink from spilling. "Don't touch me!" he whined more than shouted, almost automatically, before actually facing the person who had tapped on his shoulder. He about stuck his foot in his mouth. "Uh... I mean... please sit down! Nope, I wasn't saving it." He gave her his friendliest grin, which was actually rather creepy, and ran his fingers through his hair nervously.
Woah! She was pretty! And she was actually sitting beside him! And... she talked to him! That had to be a statistical improbability of some kind. He couldn't fathom why... actually, he didn't really care why. He was too busy in his own personal world of amazement, and practically swooning. A bit obviously, at that. He grinned at her in a way that suggested he was way more drunk than he actually was, then realized what he was doing and straightened up, messing with his hair some more. If he'd been wearing a tie, he would have messed with that instead, which was about the closest to a nervous tic he possessed. He quickly raked his mind for a game plan and ultimately decided upon operation Joe Cool. So he leaned against the bar and pretended to ignore her when in fact he was staring at her through the corner of his eye.
"The name's Wellstrop. Henry Wellstrop," he said. Heck, it worked for James Bond - women practically fell at his feet when he delivered a line like that, - it could work for him, "Pleased to meet you, Beautiful. That is your name, isn't it?" He didn't offer her a handshake, instead drawing his hand back nervously. He took a sip of his drink and resisted the urge to wag his eyebrows. James Bond did not go for moves like that. And this certainly looked like the kind of woman who would hang around a guy as cool as James Bond... He was a bit ashamed about the quality of his hastily thought up pick-up line, but it would service for the moment. Surely it was just his surprised brain, not his usual... But he'd seen lamer lines work before. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jun 8, 2011 18:25:29 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
She turned her attention back to the guy beside her for a minute, taking note of the googly eyes and sappy expression on his face. Great, another guy who thought she was hot. It wasn't a bad thing really, but she had better things to do than turn down some random loser right now. Well actually, she didn't, but he didn't have to know that, and she didn't have to admit it to herself either.
Then he opened his mouth and a lame excuse for an introduction poured out. Followed by an even lamer pick up line. She rolled her eyes as she looked down her nose at him. "Thanks, but no thanks. You can call me Simone." If you really have to call me anything she added silently to herself. She gave him a cold stare for a moment longer, before noticing the bartender heading her way.
She turned and greeted him with a dazzling smile. "Yes, I'll take a Tom Collins. You do know what those are around here, right?" At the guy's nod, she smiled. "Great," she answerd, handing him a wad of bills as she spoke. "That should be enough to keep them coming for awhile, I should think." The man thumbed through them, and nodded dumbly at her. Either she planned on getting totally wasted and then some, or she just gave him one hell of a tip. Either way, she knew he'd be sure to keep her drink full all night.
Simone tried focusing on anything so she wouldn't have to look at the geek next to her. She contemplated moving to a different seat just to escape what she knew was bound to turn into a broken record of pathetic attempts at conversation. But, admittedly, even lame pick-up lines from the geek seemed better than the alternatives. She decided to stay put, but made a mental note to do her best to brush him off. From the way he ogled her, she wasn't sure if he'd ever seen a woman before...much less sat next to one. Yup, she'd definitely need those drinks if she was going to put up with...what's his face. She couldn't remember what his name was. William? Jeremy? Harry? Oh, hell, it was something like that. It wasn't like it mattered anyway, she didn't plan on talking to him.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center] tagged henry
words ~500
notes snob mcsnobberson.
status finished
template nixxy of CAUTION 2.0
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Post by prospice1 on Jun 10, 2011 16:54:05 GMT -5
Henry could see her face well enough, and he knew that he'd blown it. Again. Maybe he should have waited for her to drink a little more before he started with that... Darn, why didn't he think of that before? It was common sense... probably a lot of other guys knew about that when they went to bars. Henry reflected that he really should get out of the lab more. "Fine. Simone," he said, flatly, giving up in what would be considered record time for a chemist. He took a rather large swig of his drink and proceeded to ignore her.
Until, that is, the chick whipped out a giant wad of cash. Henry's eyes nearly popped out of his head with envy. Wow, she must be planning on getting totally wasted or something. Even he wasn't clueless enough to not realize that his chances would be significantly improved if she actually did intend on drinking as many Tom Collinses as that amount of money would pay for. Unless, of course, there was only one high denomination bill and the rest were ones... although that would be a rather shallow thing to do, he decided. Besides, the barman's face suggested otherwise.
He wished he was wasted. He was a lot cooler when he was wasted, and people were a lot more attractive, too. Not that Simone needed any improvement... she was damn fine already. And she looked like she was pretty new here. None of the girls that he knew from the college dressed like that. Not that he particularly minded what they wore... he was much more interested in them when their clothes were off, as a matter of course. He reverted back to small sips, because he figured he might have to stay here for a while if he wanted her to get drunk enough to start finding him even mildly attractive.
"Heyyy you wouldn't happen to go to Glencarry, would you?" he asked, and his grin wasn't exactly kosher. She looked young enough, anyway, although she certainly wasn't a freshman. Had she looked like a freshman, she probably wouldn't still be sitting here. If she did, in fact, do to the school, he could make her life miserable if he wanted to. Which he might, he supposed, since he generally wanted to make every other student's life miserable. It was like... his job. He only wished it paid better. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 26, 2011 12:04:48 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
A few moments after her confusion on the guy's name, a drink was slid onto the table in front of her. She didn't offer so much as a 'thank you'. Instead she picked up the drink, swirled it around in her hand, and took a quick sip. She held it in her mouth several moments, contemplating the quality of the beverage. It certainly wasn't the best Tom Collins she'd ever experienced, but it would do. It wasn't like she planned on savoring them long enough to actually care about the flavor.
She took a couple larger swigs. Anyone looking at her would know it wasn't her first time drinking alcohol. She kept the creeper beside her facing her back as much as possible, while twisting in her chair, appearing interested in something else. Realizing she heard his nerdy voice again, she turned back to face him with an annoyed glare. "Uh, did you say something? Sorry, I was busy looking around for someone who might actually interest me." Without waiting for a response from him, she turned her shoulder on him and took another long drink. The glass was considerably smaller than she'd imagined, and she had already drank at least half of it.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center] tagged henry
words 300
notes snob mcsnobberson.
status finished
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 26, 2011 16:37:02 GMT -5
Chug, chug, chug, chug. He silently egged her on, although it did look like she was rather a pro. Obviously this was going to take a while. That was ok. He was patient, like some kind of predatory cat... Yeah, a cat, they weren't quite as detestable or dirty as every other kind of animal. He kept his eyes trained on her, staring. His eyes were one feature of his appearance that generally gave people the creeps, a shade of gray-blue that seemed almost translucent. He took the opportunity of her drinking to study her further, the perfectly made up hair, the clear skin and line of her shoulder and neck. She was very pretty, usually what one would consider while out of the "league" of the likes of Henry Wellstrop. He didn't think so, in fact he knew that he had devilishly good looks... well, thought that he did, anyway.
His face fell flat at her tone. What a total witch! He gave her a flat glare, crossing his arms with his knuckles trapped under his armpits, a rather peeved expression on his face. He wiped it away quickly when he remembered his plan and pretended not to care. "I asked what you last name was, sweetheart," the endearment was dripping with sarcasm, and he hadn't exactly meant to say it, it had just slipped out without a second though, a natural rebuttal. Even though he didn't repeat his prior question, knowing her last name would achieve the same end. He could always look her up in the school directory. Hacking wasn't his specialty, but he had a buddy who could get her cell number and even her dorm room if he paid the right about. Well, kind of a buddy anyway... His old roommate actually, but Henry had always thought that they were still close. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 26, 2011 16:52:56 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
There it was again! That annoying sound. She likened his voice to the squeaking of a rat. And come to think of it, his awkward eyes and features kind of suggested a rat too.
This time she actually heard what he said, and she spun around to face him again. She gave a couple of sniffs with her nose, crinkling up her face in the process. "Ugh, is it just me, or do I smell a rat?" Simone tipped her head down slightly, letting her perfectly curled golden tresses spill across her shoulders. She stared pointedly at him and rolled her eyes.
Then she turned around slightly, but this time only far enough that she could rest her elbows on the bar and peer at him out of the corner of her eye. She took another long drink, then sat her almost-empty glass on the glossy wooden bar with a clink. She waved her hand in the air, flashing her scarlet colored nails to the room. The bartender noticed her and gave a nod, at which point she turned back to the creep beside her and gave him a once-over again.
He totally wasn't her type, but she also knew the night would be really boring if she didn't find someone to talk to. Lord knows there were few enough people to talk to where she was holed up until she could find a better place to live. "If you must know, my last name is Delautre," she spoke blankly, drawing out her last name as if he wasn't intelligent enough to comprehend. She flashed him a fake smile, showing a row of pretty, straight teeth that had been aided by braces and probably a few whitening treatments. One thing was certain, the girl went all out on her appearance.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 26, 2011 17:21:29 GMT -5
Henry had never been very good with idioms. In any language. Thus, when she said that she smelled a rat he believed that she actually did, in fact, smell a dirty, disgusting, disease-bearing rodent and looked around nervously. "A rat? Really? Where?" his voice became even reedier when he was nervous. He glanced under the bar quickly and around the corner before he was satisfied that she hadn't seen anything. Maybe she wasn't as good with alcohol as she seemed to think. He couldn't help but grin, a little predatory, but he was harmless enough in appearance that the effect was lessened. He wasn't actively looking anymore, but he was still nervous that there was a nasty rat running around somewhere and that it would touch him. The very idea sent a chill up his spine. Of all animals, rats were one of the worst. Not compared to pigeons but... still disgusting.
"Delautre," he said it a lot more quickly than she had, tasting the name. He paused for a moment and recalled one of the cheesy French love poems that he had memorized in prior years for exactly this kind of situation. "As the poet Ronsard said: Maîtresse, embrasse-moi, baise-moi, serre-moi..." He wasn't exactly sure what the line meant, he hadn't bothered to actually learn the translation, just the words. Girls fell over like dominoes for that kind of thing, or so he'd heard. He figured it was true. Or someone was going to pay from giving him bad advice. He seriously hoped he would be able to spell her last name right when he plugged it into the directory. That is, if he didn't end up at her place, which would be even better.
Ooc : "Mistress, embrace me, kiss me, hold me tight." Way to go Henry! |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 26, 2011 18:32:21 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
Her hair may not be naturally as blonde as it was (which wasn't even platinum blonde or anything to begin with), but her brains were the type that would make her the butt of the worst blonde jokes. She started at the guy like he was speaking a foreign language, a dumbfounded look on her face. Then, realizing he was speaking a foreign language, she laughed it off, deciding she must already be feeling a buzz.
Her family had a French background, and she'd taken French logn ago in high school. Not by choice mind you. She had only barely managed to pass the class, so you couldn't expect her to remember it years later. Nonetheless, she could tell whatever he said was French, she just couldn't tell what exactly he had said. "You know, idiot, I may have a French name, but we're in America in case you hadn't noticed. I speak American, not French," she retorted in a scoffing tone. Still, she had to give him half a point for actually realizing her name was French in the first place. Maybe he was more interesting than she'd thought he would be. A half a point wasn't much. Normally she didn't talk to anyone who earned below 8 points on her 0-10 scale of worthiness.
Another drink was placed in front of her, and she, feeling slightly less of a bitch after a drink, actually gave the guy a warm smile as he sat it down. She lifted it to her lips, taking a hearty swig before placing it back in front of her. Her red lipstick left a print on the glass, which stood out boldly against the lemonade colored drink. She turned her eyes back towards...whatever his name was, and began speaking again, swirling the straw around in her drink as she did. "So Mr. Smarty Pants. What exactly did you say to me?" Simone had only met the guy, but she'd already come to expect a certain degree of sarcasm from him. Sarcasm dripped with sugary attempts at flirting. She called it an attempt, because it failed hard. Yet here she was, talking to him, so maybe he wasn't failing as bad as she thought.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 26, 2011 19:09:18 GMT -5
Ooo, sassy. He did like that in a woman. He wondered how annoyed he could make her if he kept up with the sarcasm, because she certainly was sexy with that steely flat sarcastic look in her eyes. "Really, sugarpops? Because that figure of yours would be right at home on a European beach." Of course he meant a topless beach... Wow! He could see it now, her walking along with the waves behind her and only bottoms. Yeah, that would be totally hot. He didn't bother correcting her in that she spoke English and not American as she claimed. He figured it would be best to let something like that slide, particularly if it was a result of drinking. He hoped he wasn't one of those touchy-feely drunks who wanted to crawl all over the person nearest to them. He still hadn't had quite enough of a bracer for that kind of a physical contact and he was fairly certain if she reached over and touched him now his skin would crawl as much as ever.
Mr. Smarty Pants? "That's Dr. Smarty Pants to you," he said curtly. Quite often he did introduce himself as if he already had his doctorate. It didn't matter that he hadn't even started his thesis yet (heck, he could leave it until the last week and still get a certificate for his wall if he wanted to -- which was a lie and he knew it). However this time it was more a case of the only lame retort his brain could spit out because she was already back to actually talking to him. His eyes fell to the glass, to the smear of lipstick on the rim and he shuddered involuntarily. This kind of thing was exactly why he brought his own glass to bars. Of course he didn't realize that the bartender had been spitting in his drink the whole time but...
"Oh... uh... I simply said that it was a wonderful French surname," he said hastily, pulling it out of left field as fast as he possibly could. Still, he didn't sound that unsure. And it wasn't really a lie since he actually had no idea what the line meant, so he was pretty sure he pulled it off. "Sooo, Delautre, you new in town? Or just some fox who's been all holed up all time I've lived here?" He tried to sound smooth, but he wasn't exactly good at that. Hopefully the alcohol would fix his mistakes for him. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 26, 2011 21:14:41 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
There it was again with the annoyingness. She tried to ignore his sarcastic remarks and simply rolled her eyes at him. "Whatever," she spoke casually, taking another sip of her Tom Collins. She smacked her lips and made an appreciative sound. The sort that could also sound rather seductive...in the right situation.
His answer to her question seemed fairly confident, but she wasn't sure about it. He was probably totally bullshitting her and making up something on the spot. Oh, how she wished she'd actually paid attention in French so she could actually know what he'd said to prove him wrong. But it looked like she was in luck. A kind of nerdy looking girl walked up to the bar. I mean, who wears jeans and a t-shirt to a place like Beatz? She looked like the type of girl who might actually be interested in a creeper guy. Anyway, the girl had obviously heard the tail end of the conversation, because she leaned into Simone and whispered what this freak had actually said. Just loud enough for him to hear too.
The girl then walked off and sat down a few seats down from them, next to someone Simone had already marked off the list of possible conversationalists. She turned back to the guy...who's name she still couldn't remember, though she wouldn't admit that to him. "Did you catch that, geek squad? Looks like she just sold you out. Pity, she looks like she might have actually been your type," Simone spoke as she took another drink, and then laughed. "Hey, if you're interested in her, I'll be glad to go offer her my seat." She smiled at him, reaching out and patting his leg as she said it.
Simone picked up her glass and stared into it, realizing it was now almost empty too. She waved it around in the air and then slammed it loudly down onto the bar. By her overly animated gestures, it was clear the alcohol was starting to take effect. She was still coherent, but who knows for how long. In fact, she felt pretty energetic and was contemplating getting up and going into the dance area, whether the dude actually wanted to talk to the loser girl or not.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 26, 2011 22:21:30 GMT -5
Day-um. He couldn't figure out if Simone worked to be this hot or if it just came naturally, but it was working. Heck, even when she took a swig of her drink it was alluring. He still couldn't really believe that she was even talking to him, but he was enjoying every second of it, his eyes licking up and down her body and his tongue snaking out barely across his lower lip like a dog licking its chops. He leaned toward her on the bar, his head slightly declined to listen to her, watching her every fluid move. When the nerdy girl leaned in and corrected his translation he nearly fell off the bar stool he was so busy staring at Simone. He glared at the girl, recognizing her instantly as one of the... well, now a former freshman, but still one of those leeches who hung around the library and would go for anything with a pulse that might have the slightest interest in them.
Nerdy wasn't his type. He didn't consider himself a nerd - chemical engineering was hardly a subject fit for such strange names. Besides, it could involve guns! Well... weapons! What was more macho than weapons? He did, however, like the translation. Very saucy, what he'd said. He'd have to remember it for future ladyhunts. "Course I caught it, toots, but I'm afraid you're wrong about my 'ty-," he cut off midsentence when she touched him, his face running the gamut from arousal to absolute disgust, an odd mixture but there nonetheless. At least she was only touching his pants, which was far better than if she had just reached over and touched his bare skin. He visibly shuddered, the skin on his knee feeling as if maggots were crawling through it. Then he turned and gulped down the (considerable) remaining amount of his drink in one swallow, just as the bartender came over to check Simone's. He took Henry's glass and made the usual spit cocktail, again with Henry oblivious to it.
...He felt a lot better after the drink, but still rather uncomfortably and twitchy as he reached for the new on and took a long swig of it, too. He had enough cash for a few more, which was more than enough to get him wasted, he supposed. He tried desperately to recover his former composure but had a difficult time of it until he finally spoke. "And what if I did, huh sugarlips? Then you'd have no one to bitch at." He wondered exactly what she would do if he did, in fact, leave her to go talk to the other girl... Nah, she probably already knew that she scored wayy higher on the hotness scale. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 27, 2011 13:50:02 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
If she sensed his discomfort, she didn't show it. But it was highly unlikely that she even noticed. It wasn't like she paid attention to anyone but herself and therefore usually missed most of the subtle clues they showed. Unless, by chance, they were talking about something that concerned or interested her. Which wasn't all that often.
His saucy response brought a smile to her lips. This guy was turning out to be more fun than she'd imagined. He might look like a total freak, but she had to admit he had a knack for comebacks. As Simone answered him, she put one hand on his shoulder delicately, and then leaned over close to his face. "You know you're nothing to me, right? I could walk away right now and never look back." She gave him a pert grin, the corners of her lips just barely tugging up. Her fingers drummed against his shoulder for a moment as she stared at him, and then she laughed, leaning back out of his bubble. "But, I must say, you're quite a talker. Now if only we could do something about that hair," she spoke, reaching up and ruffling his hair much like one would do to a child, "you might be worth my time."
She peered past him, feigning disinterest once again. She was starting to get a little drunk, which was evidenced by her more frequent flickers of a smile and her natural laugh. The way she figured it, getting drunk was about the only thing that was going to make this rural place, and it's meager college town, interesting. Whether or not the guy-who's-name-she-still-couldn't-remember gave her a cure to boredom and loneliness, she really didn't care. He was just a pawn in her game of chess, after all.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 27, 2011 14:37:23 GMT -5
He knew a split second before she actually grabbed his shoulder that she was going to, and as she reached froward he wildly attempted to twist away from her grasp, eyes widening in terror and fro a moment it looked like he was deeply afraid that she was going to hurt him. He emitted a sort of squeak, a nervous animal sound buried by the loud music, as her nails dug into his shirt around his shoulder, her pinky was actually touching the bare skin closest to the sleeve. He was frozen for a few seconds in uncomfortable panic, her palm on the front of his shoulder and her nails on the back and the bar to his other side. There was no escape. His eyes were popping near out of his head.
He winced when she drummed her fingers as if each fingertip burned him upon contact, unable to reply to her words until she leaned back again and his soul bobbed back into view. It felt as if he'd broken the surface of some deep choking water. "...Oh yeah, hot stuff? If you were going to do that then you already would have." Probably without even talking to him. The shock to his nerves when she touched his shoulder was slightly braced by the alcohol. He'd had two and a half drinks now and it was beginning to cloud over his usual aversions.
Sitting now at the farthest edge of his barstool and leaning back, he hardly had time to register her initial compliment before all of a sudden her hands were in his scalp, on his skin, in his hair. His reaction was automatic, he didn't think it through, scrambling backwards away from the hand and off of the seat, the and that was not clutching his glass moving to protect his head from further assaults. Of course his hasty retreat was far from perfect and his foot caught in the legs of the barstool, bringing both him and it down to the ground with a sudden clatter. Oh, great. He'd just fallen right on his ass in front of a sexy...
He had shifted his other hand to push himself up off the floor when he realized that a jagged splinter of glass had pierced both his glove and palm and that his glass was broken and half a glass of perfectly good alcohol was wasted. He rose shouting obscenities, kicking the barstool away in a rage and ripping the splinter from his palm with his teeth, the salty tang of blood on his tongue and lips. The gaze he turned on Simone was steely to the extreme, his voice low, "You goddamn bitch," he growled, and the bartender, attention attracted by the sudden frenetic burst, helpfully offered to help Simone get rid of him. He nursed his injured hand rather pathetically, considering that his glove had taken most of the damage for him and the cut was shallow, shaking with anger and shock. |
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