I'm a crappy writer...
But I can't stop...
No, seriously. My cat fell asleep on my leg, and I can't get up to fix the internet connection without risking losing a toe. And I like my toes... I've grown rather fond of them.
So, as this is the only semi-constructive thing I can do without it, here I am!
Rawr.
To all those still reading, Thank you!
Francis grinned as he ladled out the crepe batter. Elizabeth had looked so adorable when she had walked in, her messy hair still with bunny ears.
He almost wanted to sing. She just made him happy. He hadn't even minded when she started cussing at him.
As he made her a splendid breakfast, his mind buzzed with activity. He would try to get her number, at least.
He wanted to see her again. His strange high at seeing her was wearing off. He started to get sad at the thought of forgetting about her, just leaving her behind. He wouldn't let that happen! She wasn't just some common girl he'd scored at a party.
This girl was special.
He hummed something that sounded suspiciously like Embrace the Tres Bein Moi, and flipped the crepe.
...
It was almost like he'd fallen for her.
...
The warm water relaxed her tensed shoulders as it ran down her back. She opened a close by bottle of shampoo, and sniffed it. She recoiled a bit at the intense floral smell, but shrugged and rubbed it in.
She would have to really wash it out though, or end up smelling like...
Him.
What had she been thinking last night! He was the last person she would have gone with
Normally, with his improper long hair, and slight chin stubble...
And his good taste in clothing...
And his almost dreamy accent...
What was that he had called her? His little green bunny...
She had a small, dazed smile on her face. She giggled a little.
Suddenly her brain snapped back into focus. What the hell had just happened? Was she daydreaming about him! ...
In the shower!
What was happening to her! It was like she couldn't get his bloody face out of her head!
"g- God damned bloody frog!"
She finished washing all of the soap out of her hair, and turned off the water. Pulling down a towel from the rack, she thought about her current situation. What did she really know about this guy?
Memories suddenly came back. Stories about his little group, what they did.
Their friendship was made fun of; the name of the trio was a joke in itself. The rapist, the pervert, and the pedophile...
Which one was he?
She remembered laughing at him with some of her friends, watching him at a bar. They were all drunk, and found it funny to watch him flirt with everyone, only to be repeatedly rejected.
They had stopped laughing when he actually went home with someone.
...
There was no way she liked him, right? She had practically hated his face, before...
What had happened last night? She couldn't remember anything, but she felt like she should at least try to be nice to him. A small voice in her head told her to do more, but she squashed it down.
There was no way she'd fall for him.
Is it just me, or when I get all happy and excited while writing do I kind of sound like America?
Which is weird, because almost everyone agrees that I'm like Greece/Canada and just a little Romano if you manage to somehow REALLY piss me off…
Review or I'll send my crazy attack cat after you!
...If she actually listens for once...
*shoots evil glare at cat*
Thanks for reading! 'Night! (I'm writing this at like eleven...)
