iPod shuffle game c: Except I'm a huge cheater because I take extra time to finish and I skip songs that I find virtually impossible. REGARDLESS, here are some drabbles:
Doors Unlocked and Open
(Death Cab for Cutie)
Alek raised a perpetually grimy fist to rap once on Dylan's door, only to notice that it already stood slightly ajar. Forgoing all rules of etiquette once embedded into his carefully sculpted princely mind and choosing instead to do as the airmen do, he took this as an invitation and swung the feather-light wooden slab open with gusto and a boisterous, "Morning, Dylan! How about breakf—"
A rather feminine squeak stopped him short. Dylan was in the middle of awkwardly winding some sort of bandage around his upper chest, and had paused, elbows splayed, to shoot Alek a look somewhere between panic and fury.
"Did you hurt yourself?" Alek asked, genuinely concerned. "You never mentioned—"
"Aye! A few ribs! Now get the blazes out!"
"Are you sure—"
"Out!"
And so Alek backed out into the corridor, closing the door gently in front of him. How insensitive of him, to have forgotten Dylan's penchant for privacy.
Back inside Deryn hurriedly finished dressing, at the same time relieved and amazed that Alek could still be so painfully oblivious.
"I'd swear he's never seen a naked lass before," she muttered.
.
Hands Up
(Hedley)
Said the shopkeeper. Chagrinned, Alek slowly pivoted and raised his hands. Two handfuls of unpaid-for saltwater taffy and various other sweets were displayed for all the curious shoppers to see. A few loose pieces slid down his sleeves and hit the floorboards like sugary hailstones. He couldn't see, but he was positive outside Deryn was laughing.
Actually, he could kind of hear her. She was slapping her knees too.
"Aren't you a little old to be shoplifting sweets, lad?" the mustachioed man inquired with a half-disbelieving, half-pitying expression. Alek shrugged as best as he could with his hands still up. One tubby boy in the peanut gallery was snickering.
"Just put 'em down on the counter," the shopkeep said with a sigh. Alek did as told, cheeks burning. He could definitely hear Deryn's guffaws now. "You're a right disgrace to the poor lass out there. She can keep hers, only because I pity her wasting a pretty face like that on useless ninny like you."
Alek felt a bit of a smile tugging at his cheek. "I'll make sure to pass the message along."
.
Waiting…
(City & Colour)
DarkWarmthBreath FingersHandsHair
SoapSweat GreaseMetalFigsSkin
EyesLipsGlimmerFlushPucker
BreatheSighClutchMumble
HeartLungs
Hesitate
"Alek, I'm waiting…"
LeanPullPress"I—"Kiss.
.
Automatic Stop
(The Strokes)
(A/N: I completely forgot cars would never exist. What a blunder.)
"Which one?"
"Right! No, left!"
Alek slammed on the right and left pedals, causing the automobile to shoot forward and jerk to a whiplashing halt respectively. Deryn swore as she ricocheted back into her seat.
"Let me try again."
Alek loosened his grip on the wheel and inhaled. "I've piloted a Stormwalker, a goddess, a djinn, and a whale—"
"You did not pilot the barking Leviathan!"
"I think I can handle a simple car!"
Deryn snorted, blowing displaced hair from her face. "I'll believe it when I see it."
.
The Creep
(Lonely Island feat. Nicki Minaj, John Waters)
Deryn casually sipped her tea, trying her hardest to ignore the fixated man across the way. What he was fixated on, she hoped was out the window just to her right, but she'd stolen a glance herself and the view wasn't particularly exciting. Not that exciting, anyway. Not enough to have an old man drooling.
Alek finally noticed that he did not have her full attention and paused in his retelling of some gallant, Clanker adventure. "Creep," Bovril muttered, following her line of sight.
Alek glanced sideways quickly enough to catch the old man's eyes, who promptly grinned sheepishly and looked down, anorexic mustache pulling up like a second smile.
"Ugh," Deryn muttered into her tea. Before Alek could continue, she caught the man at it again and rose swiftly from her seat.
"Deryn—"
"I'm just going to tell him off for staring. Last I heard it was sodding rude." She strode across the café to the old man's table, bent down, and said something in a low, careful tone. Alek strained to hear, but picked up nothing. Finally, the man burst into laughter.
Deryn stiffened in surprise, then, before Alek could get up and find out what had happened, picked up the man's cup and threw the now-lukewarm contents at his face. She sailed back over, grabbed her husband by the arm, and hauled him out the door. Alek had just enough time to toss a few pounds onto the table. "Rude!" Bovril protested.
"What was that all about?" Alek asked once they were out the door. "Did he not apologize?"
"Oh, he apologized," Deryn muttered. "For ogling you."
.
Call Me Irresponsible
(Michael Bublé)
"Mr. Sharp!" Bovril greeted the middy from atop Alek's shoulder. The two met in the corridor, pausing to exchange pleasantries.
"The weather's rather fine today."
"Aye, it is. Keeping busy?"
Alek smirked. "Oh, you know, I'll find bits and pieces of free time, but other than that…"
"Bits and pieces, is it?" Deryn raised her eyebrow. "I happen to be in the middle of a bit myself. Perhaps you'd care to join me?"
"Well, as long as we're at our cabins," said Alek, as though he was concerned with inconveniencing either himself or the object of his affections.
"Aye, mine's directly behind you, as it happens," said Deryn, as though this happy coincidence had not been meticulously plotted.
"Well, fancy that!" said Alek, as though he were the kind of man who regularly said 'fancy that'.
"Irresponsible," said Bovril.
