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Post by mozart julius adams on Aug 18, 2011 8:14:22 GMT -5
  BUT I CAN STILL PRETEND WITH MY MEMORIES AND PHOTOGRAPHS
i have learned to love the lie [/b][/i] I WANNA KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE AWKWARD AND INNOCENT.[/font][/size][/size][/size] .....[/center][/b] As his groggy, eighty-four percent still asleep brain had guessed, Fae was home. He knew because he recognized the sound of her voice, booming in the otherwise quiet apartment, when she greeted his cats. Moz vaguely registered her footfalls disappearing down the hall towards her room, before falling back into a pleasant doze.
Until something as heavy as a ton of bricks landed on the his back, squishing him against the couch and knocking the breath out of his lungs with an audible “Oof!” His eyes shot open, and Moz panicked for a split second when he couldn’t see anything but blackness in front of him. Then his brain woke up a little more, and gently reminded him that he was staring at the couch’s arm, and since the couch was black leather, it was fine that he couldn’t see anything but black. Besides, he wasn’t wearing his contacts, and his glasses were on the coffee table; he wouldn’t have been able to see anything anyway. He craned his neck around, glaring at the blurred image of the redhead sitting on him as she leaned over to whisper close to his ear. “Good morning, sleeping beauty!” He frowned at her, blinking groggily. Had she really just sat on him just to wake him up? Surely there was a more practical, less painful way she could think of to accomplish the same thing? She may be an itty bitty little thing, but holy cow, she was heavy!
Reaching blindly behind him, Moz caught hold of Fae’s arm and pushed her off of him, knocking her sideways across the opposite end of the couch. She was still sitting on his legs- technically, lying- but that was much more bearable than having all of her weight centered on one single point. He would’ve just let himself lay there, soaking up the last precious moments of blissful unawareness, but no. Fae just had to keep blathering. “You’ve been a busy boy, haven’t you? Now wake up, because I’m hungry and I want all the details!”The brunette sat up, pulling his legs out from under the female and crossing them to sit Indian-style. Brown eyes narrowed at Fae’s fuzzy shape, and he scowled at her. She had the nerve to wake him up by sitting on him, without even bringing his morning coffee as a peace offering, and now she wanted to know about the boy sleeping soundly on the opposite couch? Had she really earned that right? No, Moz decided. If she’d stopped to get him his espresso-infused morning pick-me-up, then maybe he’d reconsider.
“It’s not play time, Fae,”
[/b] he grumbled, stifling a yawn. She’d laugh at him for that, he knew; it was always play time, as far as Faelan Garroway was concerned. “It’s let Mozzie sleep time, so shoo.”[/b] He waved her away, leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. He felt the circles under his eyes, the tiredness in his bones. However many hours of sleep he’d managed to get simply hadn’t been enough. He heard a rustling coming from the other couch, and he sighed. Great. They’d woken Rhett up. Or he was just moving around, shifting into a more comfortable position. Either way, he’d be awake soon enough, if Fae was going to be a pain in the ass and insist on making food. That girl, in the kitchen, was rarely a good combination, bubbly and energetic as she was. She just couldn’t shut up, and in the kitchen she tended to make lots of unnecessary banging and clanking noises. At least her omelets weren’t half bad. Stretching, Moz looked over at Fae, some of the blurriness in his vision gone now that all the sleep clouding his vision had faded. An emotional battle waged inside his head, and he caved in. Better that he tell her now, rather than trying to explain it after Rhett was awake to argue and disagree on the specifics. “His name is Rhett, and it’s a long, somewhat complicated story that I’m going to say I’ll tell you later, though I probably won’t.”[/b] he mumbled softly, giving her a look that advised her to keep her voice down, too, or else. He didn’t particularly feel like being the one to wake the poor boy up, not when he was bound to have a hangover. “All you really need to know is that I really like him, and if you do anything to mess this up, I’m not going to talk to you for at least a month.”[/b] She was already going to mess it up, a little, considering Rhett was going to wake up and BAM, there was going to be this rather attractive, perfectly datable girl sitting next to Moz. Chances are, he was going to feel like he’d been used; the bartender was already trying to figure out how to explain that Fae was just his roommate, nothing more than a friend. Slanting his eyes toward Rhett, or what little of Rhett wasn’t hidden beneath his comforter, Moz felt the intense urge to go over and ruffle the boy’s hair. To kiss him and tell him to scoot over so that the two of them could share the comforter and drift back to sleep. He found that he was smiling, albeit tiredly, when he looked back at Fae. “By the way, were you out fucking a coyote last night? You smell like sweat and dog.”[/b] [/justify][/size] ..... tagged : rhettie & faelan :)
words : nine oh eight.
lyrics : “let’s get fucked up & die” by motion city soundtrack.
graphics : by Caridee @ caution 2.0, cuz i’m lazy.
outfit : innamorato/i don’t need legs to stand.
notes : awkwardness for rhett! yay! [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size] |
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Post by rhett damon halewile on Aug 18, 2011 9:11:07 GMT -5
  
Rhett was normally a very light sleeper, but the vodka coursing throughout his entire body prevented him from being “normal Rhett.” All night long, he saw crazy images in his head and it took the subconscious part of Rhett’s brain a while to figure out that those images were dreams and not reality. And it only took a long while because Rhett was the type of person to never remember his dreams, but he remembered last night’s as clear as day. He saw swirling lights of pink, blue, and orange; he saw deformed shapes and faces; and then he saw nothing, which made said subconscious part of the brain believe that he’d finally begun to become more sober. Nothing but pitch blackness.
He’d woken up only once before the late morning and in that half hour or so, his head had felt like it’d split wide open and to make things worse, Rhett had forgotten he was leaning against the arm of a leather sofa, so he’d banged his head. That half hour had been Hell, but somehow he’d managed to fall back asleep, though this is only because he—thankfully—remembered that he’d packed his stele and he drew a small iratze on the back of his neck to try and calm the pain. It’d worked, and the pain did die down a little, but only enough to cast him back into a deep slumber, one that would be rudely awoken in the next few hours. But until then, an unsuspecting Rhett only curled into a ball and brought the comforter up over his head to block out any city noise, however much it helped. The car horns beeping and the tires screeching didn’t do well for his headache and this caused him to curl up tighter. He’d hardly left himself a hole to breathe through, but his tossing and turning took care of that within the next few minutes.
During the next few hours, even subconscious Rhett seemed to fall asleep and the boy saw nothing but black and heard nothing but the occasional rustling he caused in his sleep. This all changed when the he heard the door swing open and through the haziness and the splitting pain, he heard footsteps recede to the back of the building and then reemerge. He thought it to be Moz, up and about, but then his subconscious senses were finally cured and kicked in and he heard the voice of a woman; a very loud woman. He couldn’t tell what she was saying, or what a groggy, responding Moz was saying, but they were engaged in conversation and Rhett could only think of how people were sometimes an inconvenience, himself included. The voices were murmurs and slurs in his tiredness, but as he wrestled with himself to wake up, the voices became more coherent. Something about fucking a coyote…?
Groggily, he forced his eyes to flutter open and immediately the pain was back, as if his head was actually swollen and bleeding, though it was not .Fuzzy images became more clear as Rhett propped himself up to sit and bring his hand to his head, which now felt like it was burning. He sat Indian style, with the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, though it wasn’t like he needed it in this warm morning. He shook his head slightly, only letting out a small, quiet groan as he realized that it was a mistake to move his head at all. He looked at Moz tiredly, realizing that the woman whose voice he heard was sitting on his legs in a rather awkward way. Of course, Rhett thought something of it as he flashed a slightly confused gaze at Moz and then turned his attention to the bright haired girl. Something seemed vaguely familiar about her and as Rhett studied her closer, he realized what she was. Werewolf. Not, that Rhett had anything against the race, but he was simply used to being on friendly terms with the vampires, so if he was slightly glaring at the girl, he honestly didn’t mean to be offensive.
The fact that there was a werewolf in his apartment made Rhett wonder if Moz was Sighted and if he knew about the Down World. He was about to say something, but then caught sight of her Yoda slippers. Well, Rhett would admit to being a geek, so he rather liked them. Since he lost his train of thought—since the hangover was becoming unbearable, he means to say—he looked from the slippers, to the girl, to Moz, to the girl again, and then to Moz with a look that somehow mixed confusion and tiredness together. Clutching at the hair on his head, he asked rather bluntly and tiredly, “Do you have Advil?”
[/b] [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------[/center][/color] [/justify][/size][/center] |
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Post by faelan amatis garroway on Aug 22, 2011 13:41:50 GMT -5
  and I know it’s been such a long time [/size][/color] since we’ve just been friends [/size] [/color] [/u] and not soldiers on the front line of a war [/size][/center][/color]
It was only when Moz tipped her backwards onto his calves did Fae remember about her roomate’s coffee. She shouldn’t have even bothered to wake without bringing him a cup of his nasty, overly-sugary-and-strong coffee, he would just be even more surly than usual. So here she was, lying awkwardly across his legs. Maybe the weight distribution was more comfortable for moz, but certainly not for Fae. She was thankful when he retracted his legs, leaving Fae a little bit of couch to sit on.
“It’s not play time, Fae. It’s let Mozzie sleep time, so shoo.”
[/b] he had said. While Faelan hadn’t outright snorted at that that, she did grin broadly. “As you very well know, Mozart, it’s ALWAYS play time when I’m around.” She had pulled herself up just enough to look at her friend, but collapsed back “His name is Rhett, and it’s a long, somewhat complicated story that I’m going to say I’ll tell you later, though I probably won’t. All you really need to know is that I really like him, and if you do anything to mess this up, I’m not going to talk to you for at least a month.” [/b] If she was anyone else, Fae probably would have been offended that Moz assumed she would mess up his relationship. But she understood the feeling of being used, and that waking up in a strange with a “perfectly dateable” woman milling around, issues could arise. “I have no intention to mess up anything for you, Mozzie. I think a relationship is just what you need.” And then Moz said something that made Fae’s heart falter for a moment. “By the way, were you out fucking a coyote last night? You smell like sweat and dog.” Whoops. Fae had completely forgotten that sitting near – well, on – Moz might give him the chance to smell anything that lingered from last night. She hadn’t, after all, bothered to take a shower since getting home, though that seemed like a pretty stupid choice right about now. “Why yes, I was. His name is Gertrude. I’ve been meaning to introduce the two of you for a while now, but seeing you now, so disapproving of my bestiality…” Fae left her sentence hanging, patting Moz’s leg not-so-gently as she rose to her feet. She moved into the kitchen, where she started making what she sincerely hope would turn out will enough to be their morning jolts. “I assume you want coffee? Six milks, twelve sugars, and nineteen shots of espresso, right?” Fae joked, grinning across the apartment at the spot where Moz sat. “Do you think he’s going to want the same, or does he drink coffee like a normal person?” Without waiting for her roommate’s response, she placed two cups of foaming, greyish-brown “coffee”, one for her and one for Rhett. “Yours is still brewing. The espresso part, anyways.” Well, the boy – Rhett, was awake. While she had noticed, Moz probably hadn’t. Moz probably also didn’t notice that his date was glaring at Fae, recognition in his gaze. Well, so much for being too hungover to notice. And he wanted painkillers. She needed to talk to the Nephilim, without Moz in the room, and this would be a good opportunity. “You heard him, Mozzie!” Fae said, settling back on to the bit of couch left available when Moz changed his position “Go get your date his drugs I think they’re in the top drawer of my left-hand bedside table. Go go get.” [/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote] • • • • • • • tagged : rhettie & mozman. words : five four eight. lyrics : “don't leave” by MoM outfit : Moz’s morning after notes : sorry it's so short. [/size] |
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Post by rhett damon halewile on Aug 24, 2011 6:36:09 GMT -5
Fuzzily, Rhett saw as the girl left and came back into the living room. She was talking about coffee and even though he wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of the beverage, he supposed it might help to wake him up and relax the throbbing nerves in his head; though he doubted it’d do the latter. According to the mundanes, there really wasn’t a cure of a hangover besides sleep. Well, that option had been thrown out the window, considering he was already up and groggy. Rhett may have normally been a light sleeper, but it took an eternity to get that way. He’d climb into bed at midnight, only to fall asleep by like, three. Sometimes, he hated his insomnia. Now was one of those times because even when it was drunk and hurting, his body still loved to be the earliest riser.
He sensed that she saw his glaring and, again, not meaning to be offensive, he softened his gaze. Zell always told him he had a frightening stare, even when he didn’t mean to. Besides, the harder he concentrated on the girl, the more his head hurt, which was why poor pathetic and tired Rhettie was asking for pain killers instead of fixing them up himself. Not like he could with Moz watching, anyway, not until he was certain that he knew of the Down World. “You heard him, Mozzie!” she said and Rhett only inwardly commented on how “Mozzie” seemed to be his popular nickname. “Go get your date his drugs…” Whoa, back up. Date?? After the events that were last night, Rhett assumed he was far from being Moz’s date and that he’d screwed up royally.
Not, like he remembered every single detail. In fact, a lot of it was still a blur. He remembered walking into that crazy, costume bar-like place…Hot Wings, if he remembered correctly. He remembered sitting down at the bar after being told he resembled a vampire hunter; remembered seeing Moz behind the counter and immediately feeling the heat rise to cheeks; remembered asking him what he’d suggest as a good drink and the man had given him vodka in the form of a Manhattan; he remembered that he was a light weight and was not an expert drinker like his parabatai; remembered tripping over the steps with Moz in the subway, leaning on him for support; remembered that he’d been rejected of his feelings when all was said and done; and then he remembered fallings asleep on the couch. That was it. Pretty vague, right?
Where was he going with this?—Oh, right, he wasn’t expecting to be referred to as “Moz’s date.” What, exactly, had been said about him while he was asleep? He looked at Moz as he left and then when he was out of earshot, he looked at the werewolf girl. “How do you know Moz?”
[/b] he asked and then realizing how that could sound on its own—he’d save that issue for another time—he added, “I mean, is this his first encounter with the Down World? Is he Sighted or am I just going to sound crazy when I explain it to him?”[/b] There was no ifs, ands, buts about it. If he wanted this to work, he’d have to tell him eventually. Rhett examined himself to see that he was void of his leather jacket, which told him that Moz had already seen the Marks etched into his skin. “I think I may have already introduced him to these,”[/b] he said, gesturing to the runes on his hands, “I can’t remember, though…”[/b] Yeah, he knew it; Zell was going to have his head for this… [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------[/center][/color] [/justify][/size][/center] |
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Post by faelan amatis garroway on Sept 3, 2011 13:00:23 GMT -5
and I know it’s been such a long time [/size][/color] since we’ve just been friends [/size] [/color] [/u] and not soldiers on the front line of a war [/size][/center][/color]
Fae watched Moz leave the room, noticing that Rhett did the same. As soon as her roommate was out of earshot, he spoke, wanting to know how she knew Moz. It was sweet, she thought, that already the boy seemed suspicious of a strange girl in the apartment where he had woken up. And then he continued on to ask how much her roommate knew about the downworld, an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks. Okay, well maybe she imagined the blush, but Fae thought it was rather sweet nonetheless.
“I know Moz from school. We were in the same photography course for a while.”
[/b] Fae said, though that wasn’t a good enough answer. Moz had said she wasn’t to do anything to mess things up with Rhett, and just being classmates didn’t mean she wasn’t a threat. While Fae and Moz knew completely that they had no interest in the other, save for being friends, Rhett might not. “Umm… yeah. We never really spoke much at school. Then, one time I was having dinner with my sister and her family, and my niece Ashlyn decided she wanted food from Hot Wings. It was decided that it was my turn to get take-out, so I went, and I recognized Moz there. I introduced myself; and we became friends over the next couple of months. So when I decided I wanted to move out of my parents’ house, Moz said I could rent his spare room. I personally think he just keeps me around for my fantastic cooking abilities.” [/b]Only after Fae said it did she realize that her joke was pointless. He had not yet tasted her “fantastic” cooking, nor would Moz probably let him. Food poisoning would be a bad way to end a first date. And maybe Rhett didn’t need to know this much about how she moved in with his potential boyfriend, but Fae wanted to be thorough. That was just the condensed version, anyway. “Is dear Mozzie Sighted? As far as I know, no. I’m sure he would have mentioned something before now if he was. So yes, you’re probably going to sound crazy. I’ve tried very hard to keep him in the dark about all of this,”[/b] she said, gesturing at herself, meaning to indicate the fact that she was a werewolf, “and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t just spring everything on him. I’m not stopping you from telling him, especially if it means I don’t have to. Also if you could keep me out of it for as long as possible, that would great.”[/b] Ground rules were important, were they not? And if Moz flipped out when Rhett explained everything to him, Fae would appreciate the chance to calm him down before she could mention that Rhett wasn’t crazy, and that she turned into a wolf a few times a month, and that she happened to be head of a pack of fellow werewolves. Oh yes, because that wouldn’t sound insane, AT ALL. Then Rhett said that he may have introduced Moz to his runes, and Fae’s eyes hardened. “You did WHAT now?”[/b] she hissed, keeping her voice down so Moz wouldn’t be able to hear. Sighing, her gaze softened as she looked at Rhett’s face. The younger boy was in obvious discomfort, and a part of her wished Moz would hurry up with his painkillers. Seeing people in pain was not something Fae was fond of in the slightest, and Rhett was obviously refraining from using a healing rune to fix himself up. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’ll probably think you were just speaking nonsense, and that’s if he remembers at all. If you plan to make excuses before you full out tell him about the Down World, you could just say they’re scars, and you don’t want to talk about it. Then you wouldn’t be lying. And go on, use an iratze. It’ll make you feel better.” • • • • • • • tagged : rhettie & mozman. words : six seven five lyrics : “don't leave” by MoM outfit : Moz’s morning after notes : yay backstory! :] [/size][/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by rhett damon halewile on Sept 3, 2011 16:23:39 GMT -5
He listened as she went on to answer his questions earnestly instead of making big deal about it. He liked people like this; humble and reasonable, easy to talk to. Even though he promised himself he’d deal with her being in Moz’s apartment later, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, especially when she said she’d known Moz for a while in photography class. That’s great; so Moz knew this gorgeous woman for a while? A woman who shared his passion for photography and to whom Rhett wasn’t even competition? That did wonderfully for his confidence, sarcasm intended. And yet, she didn’t leave her answer at that. She went on to explain herself, as if defending that no, she was not interested in him and not he in her. That she was only renting the place and nothing more. Rhett appreciated it, he honestly did, but he was still wary of the whole thing, but didn’t he have the right to be?
Rhett studied the girl as she talked, noticed her sweet face, her red hair that vaguely reminded him of someone. He couldn’t place a name, but he’d met the other one recently, he was sure. Then it came to mind: that Nephilim girl from the Institute with the peanut butter and sexy cat poses that Zell was sickly attracted to. Now that he had the image in his head, all he needed was a name. He kind of remembered it starting with an— “Ashlyn…” said the girl and Rhett looked up at her. Yep, that was the name. Ashlyn Lightwood…was her niece? Well, what a small world they lived in. She attempted a joke about her “fantastic cooking”, but Rhett just stared at her, puzzled. He’d yet to taste her cooking, so he couldn’t really judge it, could he? She apparently caught on to this fact and looked slightly uncomfortable, so Rhett offered a small smile. He knew well how awkward failed-but-attempted jokes were…he’d had plenty.
Then she went on to explain that yes, he was indeed going to sound crazy when he tried to explain the Down World to him. Again, great. Just great. Rhett only had one date before Moz and she’d been a mundane, but she’d been a Sighted mundane, which made every difference. He furrowed his brow, already trying to think of how he could explain this new world to Moz without looking like… well, like he was drunk. Maybe the fact that he’d tried while drunk would come to aid. To see that he was still talking about such nonsense sober would make him believe him…right? Maybe? No, Rhett concluded. Probably not. But it was worth a shot. Rhett looked up as she started laying down ground rules. One, he was not to completely spring everything on Moz. Okay, easy enough. Step by step. Rhett figured that since he’d already shown Moz the runes, they were a good place to start as any and then he’d go from there. Two, she was thankful that she wasn’t the one going to explain it to him and three, Rhett was keep her identity, as a werewolf, hidden from him as long as possible. He could understand this because finding out about his roommate first would probably traumatize him. No, in all honesty, he was planning to explain the residents of the Down World last. He planned to start with what he was, when Moz asked. Bringing it up in casual conversation would only provoke more confusion. “You’ll be the last on my list,”
[/b] he said, agreeing to her terms. Her gaze hardened considerably when he said he showed him his runes. Then she screamed at him, in a whisper, since she didn’t want Moz to hear, but she might as well have. He was indeed uncomfortable: uncomfortable that there was a woman in Moz’s apartment when he’d woken up; uncomfortable that he was going to have to eventually explain everything; uncomfortable because his fucking headache wouldn’t go away; and uncomfortable because of the way she was looking at him, like he’d done something horribly wrong. He knew it. He was better left a hermit. Why did he let Zell drag him all over the city again? “I’m sorry,”[/b] he said, somewhat questioning his choice to apologize. She suggested he made excuses and Rhett shook his head. “No…I want to tell him the truth…it’s the least I owe him after…um…”[/b] he looked back up at her to realize she was waiting for him to continue. He blushed. “…unintentionally dragging him into it…while drunk…”[/b] Yeah, that heat in his cheeks? Wasn’t disappearing fast enough. He was surprised when she said it was all right to use an iratze. He nodded and collected his leather jacket, unzipping the front pocket and drawing out the slick stele. Just holding it seemed to make him feel better and after noticing this, he expertly drew the healing rune on the under part of his wrist, wincing slightly as the rune was ironed into his skin. Drawing it anywhere else would have only caught Moz’s early attention and Rhett was already hoping that he wouldn’t notice the darker mark along the scars to begin with. [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------[/center][/color] [/justify][/size][/center] |
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Post by mozart julius adams on Sept 5, 2011 11:42:05 GMT -5
BUT I CAN STILL PRETEND WITH MY MEMORIES AND PHOTOGRAPHS
i have learned to love the lie [/b][/i] I WANNA KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE AWKWARD AND INNOCENT.[/font][/size][/size][/size] .....[/center][/b] Fae babbled on about her blossoming relationship with Gertrude the coyote, and how she’d meant to introduce the two of them, but now that she realized just how disapproving Moz was of her bestiality… She let the sentence hang, opened and uncommitted to a responsive action about what she would actually do. Sighing, the brunette patted her on the head, a sort of ‘there there, sweetie,’ type gesture. “Fae, you can fuck whoever you want,”
[/b] he stated, then thought better of it and amended “Except me. But as long as it isn’t in my apartment, I don’t give a fuck who you fuck with, be it a coyote named Gertrude or a stripper named Maxx.”[/b] Rhett piped up about wanting painkillers, and Moz felt the guilt of bringing this hangover down on the boy settle on his shoulders where it would remain for the foreseeable future. His eyes softened as he looked at the brunette, noting again the dark circles under his eyes and the way they squinted shut against the light, how his hair was mussed and standing awkwardly on end from where he’d slept on it, how the pillow had left a crease in the skin on his cheek. He glanced away when Fae reentered the room, bringing sour smelling coffee and setting it down on the table. In all honesty, Moz hadn’t even noticed that she’d ventured away to get it, until he vaguely recalled hearing her joke about the way he liked his coffee. She urged him to go go get Rhett some medicine, shooing him from the room, so he hauled himself to his feet and stretched, yawning as he ran his fingers through his hair. He could feel part of it flattened to his head. How extremely bothersome. Only because he was still half asleep did he obey Faelan’s command, not realizing that he was leaving the boy he’d made out with- what other title could he give to Rhett, exactly? They weren’t dating, and he wasn’t sure if Rhett would ever want to see him again, so he couldn’t be his potential boyfriend, could he? It was all so confusing and jumbled and Moz was not awake enough to deal with this much thinking.- with his pitbull of a roommate. He faithfully fetched the medicine from Fae’s room, surprised again by how clean and organized the room was when all over the place, scatterbrained Fae was the one who resided in it. Before venturing back into the living room, the brunette slipped into his room and changed clothes, not liking the way the ones from last night felt rumbled against his skin, grimy and sweaty and too worn. He padded back into the living room, sporting medicine and clean clothes. He sat on the couch next to Rhett, silently offering him the pills and resisting the strong urge to run his fingers through the boy’s hair. Or better yet, to just forget about Fae and what she would think and scoop up the blankets and the stunning brunette who’d decided that he loved Moz, steal them all away into his room and curl up on the bed where they could snuggle and fall back to sleep sharing body heat. It was a very tempting idea, especially on the counts of snuggling with Rhett and falling back to sleep, as they both sounded like very, very good ideas right now. And the only reason he couldn’t indulge in either guilty pleasure was sitting on the other couch, redheaded and petite and looking at him like he’d just wandered in during the middle of a very important conversation. Now that he thought of it, a hush had fallen over the room when he’d reentered, with Fae and Rhett looking rather guilty, like they disliked the idea of him hearing what they’d been talking about. He was too tired to care, almost too tried to bother paying attention. “Don’t mind me,”[/b] he yawned, still contemplating the idea of stealing Rhett away for some alone time. It was taking a lot of self control to not test the waters and find out if Rhett was as frisky sober as he was while drunk. [/justify][/size] ..... tagged : rhettie & faelan :)
words : six nine six.
lyrics : “let’s get fucked up & die” by motion city soundtrack.
graphics : by Caridee @ caution 2.0, cuz i’m lazy.
outfit : coming soon to a post near you!
notes : one of you better have noticed the ref in there. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size] |
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