A/N: School starts back in for me on August 12th. That's less than four days away. Price to pay for living in the South. I still have to read two books. And I am here. Doing this. Something is very wrong with me. But, there is no time to find out what, because after typing and posting this I am going back to my reading. I swear. But I think Seth Cohen and I might not be as different as it seems. Thus, the title. (But we are still very different, starting with that whole gender thing.)
PROCRASTINATION
The pencil did not feel right. There was something about pencils. They just seemed so…obsolete. Seth examined it closer, twisting it between two fingers and tapping it on the desk, then nibbling on the eraser thoughtfully. Now, ink pens, on the other hand…they were hot. All sleek and smooth…He reached for his uni-ball pen from a coffee cup on his desk, then eyed it carefully, the light catching on the metal clip on the cap.
This was not happening. He was not becoming aroused by a writing utensil. Just forget about it, man. Seth sighed. It's just a pen. Now write with it.
Seth kneaded his forehead with three fingers and pulled off the cap with his teeth. Just before the tip hit the paper, spewing forth information and emotion rapid-fire, Seth realized something. Smudges! Ink could smudge! And this… this was so important, much better than smudgy.
It was then that Seth knew the doctor was right, and he did indeed have ADHD. And now, OCD was also becoming more of a possibility.
Ballpoint pens…they do not smudge! They were on a whole other level. Seth smiled at himself, pleased that it was not yet over. He pulled open the top desk drawer and shuffled the contents around until he found something. An old pen Sandy had given him, printed with the words 'Sanford Cohen, Attorney At Law' on it.
Success! If only he had thought of it in the first place. Now there was only one thing left to do. Write.
Write?!
Wasn't the whole point to try and avoid writing? Wasn't that why pencils had suddenly become so unappealing?!
It's okay, Seth, he reasoned with himself. Just a deep cleansing breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth, pen to paper, and…go! So he did. He wrote. Very straightforward, no beating around the bush, and it was entirely un-Seth-like. And, in the end, it seemed good enough to him.
'I think I'm in love with you.
Seth.'
A/N: So, that's it. And it felt good. I wanted to leave some of it up to interpretation, so feel free to insert the name of your choice above the whole 'I think I'm in love' junk. Please, please, please, I would love some feedback on my 'one-shot.' And now, I'm gonna go read. Yeah, right.