muse:martin.

the little post cards! they were so fun to write. i read mine aloud in class but yeah, i wanted to post it here because it was fun to write and yeah. i want to remember it question mark.

muse:
running through the woods, breathless, briars reaching with insistent hands at her clothing almost whispering, "slow down, my sweet, slow down." she screams before something trips her and makes her fall on her bad leg. the pain jerks her awake, and janet eyes the sterile white hospital room around her. her ankle throbs in rhythm with the heart monitor. sighing, she clutches her head. what got her in here? oh, right. martin.

honestly, it had started out like any other day. she woke up grumpy, ate breakfast grumpy, and went to school grumpy. all the previous night before going to bed, she had vowed that she wouldn't do anything stupid in front of him (and hopefully, this didn't count). martin had said "hi" to her from across the courtyard and janet had been so happy and enthralled that she missed the first step of the descending stairs. then the next, and the next, and suddenly she was close friends with pain and the ground. martin, being the nice guy he was, offered to drive her to the hospital. yes, this was all his fault.

ep:if you snark and muse:record

so, i was considering things to write about for abp#5 and was thinking "douche" and along the lines of that is "let your lab partner collect data all by himself while you go out to lunch and totally don't help him at all." said person that is being addressed doesn't seem to really mind what happened, although i and certain others feel very inflamed and up-in-arms about it. why do people suck, seriously? when people pull their weight, things work. but when they don't people get angry. also, another thing that pisses me off is when people complain, but do not have a solution slash are not planning the stupid thing. homecoming planning for dinner was extremely difficult, people, SO DO NOT SNARK AT ME IF YOU DON'T ENJOY THE RESTAURANT. YOU MAY GO EAT DINNER BY YOURSELF AND THEN COME TO THE DANCE WITH THAT FABULOUS SNARKY ATTITUDE AND THEN DANCE BY YOURSELF IN THE CORNER. 


anyway.
a muse. once again inspired by the ending of bones.
muse:
i'd told her that he likes records, especially a certain one by a certain band. the record itself turned different colors when the light hit it at different angles, making for a rather psychedelic effect. i knew he'd love it, but it wasn't my place to give it to him.

that night, we were all sitting around in their comfortably cramped apartment, waiting for him to come home. wine glasses were on the table, and all of us (me, her, and our two friends) were sipping our drinks. white dessert wine, the type that is sweet and then kicks you in the mouth as a reward. the black leather couches were warm and comfortable, and i thought that i could never bring myself to stand up. as the door clicks open, our two friends stand up. they manage to mumble something before pushing their way out the doorway. it's just me, him, and her left. he notices the iridescent record on a table next to the couch.

"what's this?"

"oh, avery told me that you love records. especially this band, and it has your favorite song on it."

she stands up, padding her way over to his side.

"look, it even changes color when you move it around!"

he smiles broadly, winningly. i beam.

"thanks!"

"you're welcome," she and i both answer. they don't seem to hear me, and they kiss simply, but lovingly. i can almost hear my heart shattering on the ground, but this is not my place. i cannot cry here, this is not my place.

"i... i should go. i'll see you tomorrow, glass."

i pick my things up, and i'm almost out the door. his voice grabs my ears, stopping me.

"no, wait, you should stay for dinner."

"yeah," she agrees. "we have enough space for you."

"i'll make that lamb dish i know you like," glass says, his eyes showing something. somehow, i think he's on to me. but that's purely speculation. after all, i just deal with the facts.

"no thanks. you see, normally the first time two people sharing a domicile have dinner together, the person who doesn't live there leaves. so... i'll see you tomorrow."

i turn to face the door, push it open, and brush out without much ceremony. i haven't noticed that devon has followed me until he calls my name.

"avery!"

i whirl around, careful to plaster on an indifferent face.

"yeah?"

he's silent for a moment before mumbling, "see you tomorrow."

i try to smile, i really do, as hard as i can.

"yeah. good night."

as i turn around, i swear he's on to me. he's on to me, but for some reason, the door clicks shut behind me.

required reading for children of the world.

it is very nice to have this handy guide to identify certain people as being Nice Guys. it is in rant format, so be prepared! also, if you find yourself falling on the Nice Guy side of the spectrum (or are just curious as to what in the world a Nice Guy is), read this. and then improve yourself, please.
http://divalion.livejournal.com/163615.html