~*~SiMpLy CoMpLiCaTeD~*~
~Disclaimer: All characters you recognize from BtVS are all owned by the almighty Joss. But the plot is mine. =)
~A/N: Okay. I just wanted to say that this story might be a little different. The style of my writing will be different than how I've written in my other one. I hope it's not too confusing to understand. ^_~
Oh, and also. About the Spuffy romance stuff. *Please* be patient. It'll come soon. I have to explain the past and how things came to be . . . If you can't wait, just repeat these in your head, "Good things come to those who wait," and "Patience is a virtue." teehee! ^_^
Thanks for all those who chose to read this . . . and review *hint* *hint*
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~The first time we met~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
---------------------------------Flashback---------------------------------
*Ding Dong*
Elizabeth ran up to her mother and tugged on her pink skirt.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Joyce looked down at her now-six year old daughter who was twirling around in her green, fluffy dress in circles, forming a bell around her legs.
"Yes, sweetie?" She asked.
Elizabeth pointed to the front door, "Someone's here!"
Joyce nodded and excused herself from her guests. The Summers family was having a birthday party for Elizabeth's sixth birthday party.
"Well, let's go see who that is, shall we?" Joyce headed for the door and Elizabeth bounced in place, eager to see who else had come.
Joyce opened the door and were met with two people. One with brown hair and glasses and the other with dark hair and a kind smile. Joyce grinned at the people and opened her arms wide, giving a hug. "Oh my God! You made it!"
"Of COURSE we did!" The dark haired woman exclaimed. She turned from Joyce and looked down at Elizabeth. "Elizabeth! Well, look at you! You're all so grown up."
Elizabeth's face broke out into smile and she jumped in the woman's awaiting arms, "Grandma Jenny!" The small, brunette girl kissed Jenny's cheek and hugged her neck.
"Well, aren't you just a beauty." The man with glasses complimented sincerely.
Elizabeth turned her head towards the man. She looked him up and down and tilted her head to the side. "Who are you?"
He smiled, "Well, luv, my name is Rupert Giles."
Elizabeth scrunched up her face. "You talk funny." She pointed out at him.
"That's because I'm from England, pet."
"England Pet?" Elizabeth shook her head, "Never heard of it........"
Giles chuckled and knelt down so he could be eye level with her, "So, how old are you now?"
Elizabeth grinned, held her chin high and said with all pride, "I'm six." She held out five fingers up at Giles who laughed.
"My, my, my. That's old, luv!"
"Daddy?" A tiny voice rang out from the open doorway. A boy with the same hair as Giles, only curlier, poked his head from behind the door.
Joyce's eyes softened, "Oh, hello there. What's your name?"
The little boy stared at the ground and shuffled his feet, hands tucked into his front, blue jeans pockets.
Jenny placed a hand on his back and pushed him forward, "Go on."
"My name is Joyce." Joyce held her hand out for him to shake.
He looked up at his father to see if it was ok and he nodded. "My n-name is William." He introduced while shaking the burnette woman's hand nervously. After the handshake, he immediately put his hands back into his red sweater and stared at the wood floor.
"Mommy?" Elizabeth asked Joyce.
"William?" He looked up when his voice was called. Jenny introduced him to Elizabeth, "This is Elizabeth."
"It's her birthday today." Giles hinted.
William stepped forward and shyly looked up to meet the emerald eyes of the brown haired girl,
"H-happy . . . Happy B-birthday, luv."
Elizabeth stared at him, fascinated, "You talk funny, too!"
William stared at her, wide eyed, "What?"
"Your voice is all . . . weird." The birthday girl tried her best to explain.
"Elizabeth!" Joyce scolded.
But the two young children didn't hear as William defended himself.
"My voice is NOT weird!"
"Is too!" Elizabeth shot back, hands placed firmly on her hips.
"Is not!" William said louder.
"Is too!" Elizabeth growled.
"Is not!!" William yelled.
"Is too! Is too! Is *too*!" Elizabeth chanted.
"Is not. Is not!! Is *not*!!!" Willian chanted back, face inching closer to hers.
Elizabeth poked him in the chest in time with her words, "Is. Too."
William took a few steps back and a smirk formed on his lips, "Is. Not." He poked her back, but this time, he poked her on the side of her ribs. Elizabeth's most ticklish spot.
"AGH!" Elizabeth squealed and began running away from the vengeful boy. "Stay away!" Elizabeth giggled. William poked her on the side and she laughed.
"My voice is not weird!" William playfully growled.
"Yeah huh!" Elizabeth shouted and the two ran around the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, the yard, through the bedrooms......happy laughter filled the house as Joyce, Jenny, and Giles shook their heads and chuckled. The party resumed.
---------------------------------End Flashback------------------------------ ---
Ah . . . those were good times. I didn't have to worry about a thing back then. It was all fun and games. I didn't have to worry about grades or responsibilities, or if the clothes that I wore even matched. Worries was nothing but a word back then. Then again, it was probably just another word that I didn't understand, that I didn't *care* to understand.
Let's put it this way: I. Lived. In. A. Bubble.
And in this bubble, nothing could touch me, could harm me. Everything went my way. In this bubble, I could be whoever I wanted to be and wherever.
But no matter how hard I tried, my bubble would always stay imaginary. I really couldn't hide from the world. I couldn't hide from it's pain. I knew this when 2 years after my sixth birthday, the arguing began . . .
"Damnit, Hank!"
Elizabeth huddled in a corner of her bedroom, arms hugging her knees. She stared at her shut door, but that didn't stop the angry voices from filtering into her little ears.
Hank hiccuped, "What?"
"You've been drinking again!" Joyce accused.
Hank sniffed his breath and hiccuped again, "Nu-uh!"
Joyce shook his shoulders and held up three fingers up for him to see, "How many?"
"How many what?" Hank scratched his head.
"Fingers, Hank! Fingers!"
Hank squinted "Uh . . .er . . .argh!" He growled in frustration, grabbing Joyce's hand and held it close to his face.
"Well? How many fingers am I holding up?" She asked.
He growled in annoyance, "How the *hell* do you expect me to count how many fingers you're holding up when you keep moving them?!" He threw a glass vase at the door in anger.
"I'm *not* moving my hands, you moron. You're holding them still!" She spat, snatching her hands away from him, "I told you you were drunk."
"No, no, no. I'm not." He slurred, "Uh . . . you-" Hiccup. "You're h- holding up . . . five fingerrrrrs."
Joyce shook her head in shame, "My hand isn't even up anymore, Hank."
He tilted his head to the side in realization, "Oh."
Joyce plopped into a chair, "You told me you'd stop drinking."
"I'm sorry, baby." He swayed over to her and sloppily hugged his wife, "I'm so sorry, baby. I won't drin-"
"What's that smell?" Joyce cut him off.
Hank seemed, all of a sudden, *very* sober. "W-what smell?"
The brown haired woman pushed away from his arms, "That smell . . ."
His eyes widened, "Nothing."
"What? Can't you smell it?"
"No" Hank lied.
Joyce sniffed the air. "Is that . . . perfume?" She asked disbelievingly.
Hank laughed, "No!"
She grabbed the collar of his shirt and inhaled. She looked up at him with wide, tearful eyes. She whispered, "You cheated on me."
"I would never-"
"You cheated on me!" She yelled. She turned around and covered her face.
He reached for her. "Baby-"
She swung around to glare at him, "You've *been* cheating on me."
Hank recoiled as if he had been stung. She knew.
"I haven't." He denied unconvincingly.
"You *have*! Who the *hell* do you think does the laundry around here, Hank?!" She spat his name.
Hank remained silent.
"I've smelled the perfume, the lipstick marks on your shirt, and the fucking condoms you have hidden in the back pockets of your jeans!"
All this happened as Elizabeth continued to rock in the corner of her room. She hated the yelling. Hated the screaming.
She knew her father came home drunk every other night.
She knew there would be yelling every other night as well, but she never got used to the sound of glass breaking every time her father walked through the front door.
The girl shut her eyes tightly and covered her ears to drown out the horrible noises.
"God! I can't believe you've been cheating on me with another woman!" Joyce screamed outraged.
Hank was fully sober now and he looked at his wife, straight in the eye, "Yes, I have."
Joyce looked at him, wide-eyed in shock, "What?" Of course she was yelling about him sleeping with another woman, but to actually here it coming from him. It hurt so much more and made it all the more real.
Hank shrugged and picked up a bottle of alcohol. Finding it empty, he threw it towards Joyce. She backed up against the wall as glass was scattered everywhere as it did almost every night.
"I *have* been cheating on you." He shrugged again and chuckled, "But not with one woman."
Joyce had pain all over her face.
Her "husband" looked thoughtful for a moment. He looked up at the ceiling, as if it held the answers. "Hm . . . I think . . . It was about, give or take . . . three. Yeah. That was it. It was three a day. Three *different* woman, mind you." Finally finding a new bottle, he took a swig of it.
"Yup." He popped the "p," sounding very proud of himself, "But if you wanted to know the total amount. Well, sorry, Can't give you that. There were a *lot* of them." He whispered in her ear, "Young ones too . . ."
He laughed, "I think I have children all over the world. I heard that I have a two month old baby in Japan. Ha! Isn't that something?"
Joyce was disgusted and pushed him off her, her voice low, "You're a pig, a bastard, and God forigve me, but you are a sick fuck. Words cannot describe how disgusting you are."
Elizabeth jumped when she heard the front door shut with a bang. She crawled to her window and peeking through the blinds, she watched her fathers car speed away.
It was over. Somehow, she knew. There would be no more shouting, no more glass breaking. Her father was gone.
I loved my dad.
For those wondering, "no". He's not the man that I still love.
I did say "love," with a "d," didn't I?
I use to love my dad. He would always make me laugh and smile. You would never think someone like him was having an affair . . . or affairs, in this case.
So anyways, my parents signed the divorce papers and I never saw my daddy again. I was 8 years old and even then, I understood that he had been sleeping with other people.
Yes, I said "people." I wouldn't be surprised if the jerk was having sex with men as well, or dogs, rather. No, not female dogs, not bitches. I mean, *real* dogs. As you can see, I "used" to love him. I hate him with a passion now.
But when I was 8, I still loved him . . . maybe just a little bit . . . he was my daddy. My strong protector. My knight who would rescue me from the scary shadows in my closet.
In conclusion: I missed him terribly.
Having my father gone meant no one to watch me in the evenings. You see, my mom worked in a gallery. She worked from two o'clock to midnight. So who was to watch me now?
"I'd love to watch her for you, Joyce."
Of course, Grandma Jenny.
Married at the age of fifteen, got her first baby the same year, and sadly, became a widow at the age of 45. Then she found a boyfriend when she was 47. I met Giles on my sixth birthday. He was 47 then, the same age as Grandma Jenny.
Don't ask me why I called him "Giles." His full name is Rupert Giles, but he always wanted me to call him by his last name, Giles. Just Giles. So from then on, it was "Giles this" and "Giles that."
I also met his son on that day.
The shy little boy with brown curly hair.
Although young as I was, I think I already liked William. Maybe it was those cute little glasses he had perched on his nose. Or maybe it was the way he had comforted me on the first day I stayed at Grandma Jenny's house.
Elizabeth stepped into the big, but one floored house. She had heard from her mother that Grandma Jenny's boyfriend, Giles and his son William, were living there as well. So she had to "behave." As her mother liked to put it.
Elizabeth had only met him once, but they had had a lot of fun on her birthday. She couldn't wait to see him again.
Elizabeth hopped to the living room couch after giving her grandmother a hug. Swinging her legs back and forth, she turned on the tv. Seconds later, she sadly remembered that her daddy had gone away.
William was told by Grandma Jenny that Elizabeth's dad had left her and her mom. The young boy felt bad and did the only logical thing he could think of . . .
William joined the bummed Elizabeth on the couch . . . only to grab the remote from the eight year old's hands.
"Hey!" She pouted.
"Hey, what?" He asked innocently, flipping through the channels.
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest, "I was watching that."
He raised an eyebrow, "So?"
"So?" She asked increduously, "That means *you're* not supposed to change the channel!"
He shrugged, "I wanted to watch something else. Pokemon is *so* much better than the Power Rangers."
Her jaw dropped, "No it's not!"
"Yes it is."
"No it's not!"
"Yes it is!"
"Change it back!"
"No."
"Why?" The girl whined.
He had a smug look on his face, "Cause I'm older."
"That's not fair." She hit him playfully with a pillow.
He laughed, "Sorry, pet. It's not my fault-" She hit him again.
Elizabeth had forgotten all about the recent, tearful events. She felt happy again. William had done that for her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~A/N: So, did I lose any of you? I know. The style of writing is different, but I wanted to try it out. That's the kind of person I am. I love trying new things. Maybe you all should try doing new things. Example: To all those who haven't reviewed before, DO IT! *wink* ^_~ *giggles* teehee!
Please be kind and review. =)
~Disclaimer: All characters you recognize from BtVS are all owned by the almighty Joss. But the plot is mine. =)
~A/N: Okay. I just wanted to say that this story might be a little different. The style of my writing will be different than how I've written in my other one. I hope it's not too confusing to understand. ^_~
Oh, and also. About the Spuffy romance stuff. *Please* be patient. It'll come soon. I have to explain the past and how things came to be . . . If you can't wait, just repeat these in your head, "Good things come to those who wait," and "Patience is a virtue." teehee! ^_^
Thanks for all those who chose to read this . . . and review *hint* *hint*
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~The first time we met~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
---------------------------------Flashback---------------------------------
*Ding Dong*
Elizabeth ran up to her mother and tugged on her pink skirt.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Joyce looked down at her now-six year old daughter who was twirling around in her green, fluffy dress in circles, forming a bell around her legs.
"Yes, sweetie?" She asked.
Elizabeth pointed to the front door, "Someone's here!"
Joyce nodded and excused herself from her guests. The Summers family was having a birthday party for Elizabeth's sixth birthday party.
"Well, let's go see who that is, shall we?" Joyce headed for the door and Elizabeth bounced in place, eager to see who else had come.
Joyce opened the door and were met with two people. One with brown hair and glasses and the other with dark hair and a kind smile. Joyce grinned at the people and opened her arms wide, giving a hug. "Oh my God! You made it!"
"Of COURSE we did!" The dark haired woman exclaimed. She turned from Joyce and looked down at Elizabeth. "Elizabeth! Well, look at you! You're all so grown up."
Elizabeth's face broke out into smile and she jumped in the woman's awaiting arms, "Grandma Jenny!" The small, brunette girl kissed Jenny's cheek and hugged her neck.
"Well, aren't you just a beauty." The man with glasses complimented sincerely.
Elizabeth turned her head towards the man. She looked him up and down and tilted her head to the side. "Who are you?"
He smiled, "Well, luv, my name is Rupert Giles."
Elizabeth scrunched up her face. "You talk funny." She pointed out at him.
"That's because I'm from England, pet."
"England Pet?" Elizabeth shook her head, "Never heard of it........"
Giles chuckled and knelt down so he could be eye level with her, "So, how old are you now?"
Elizabeth grinned, held her chin high and said with all pride, "I'm six." She held out five fingers up at Giles who laughed.
"My, my, my. That's old, luv!"
"Daddy?" A tiny voice rang out from the open doorway. A boy with the same hair as Giles, only curlier, poked his head from behind the door.
Joyce's eyes softened, "Oh, hello there. What's your name?"
The little boy stared at the ground and shuffled his feet, hands tucked into his front, blue jeans pockets.
Jenny placed a hand on his back and pushed him forward, "Go on."
"My name is Joyce." Joyce held her hand out for him to shake.
He looked up at his father to see if it was ok and he nodded. "My n-name is William." He introduced while shaking the burnette woman's hand nervously. After the handshake, he immediately put his hands back into his red sweater and stared at the wood floor.
"Mommy?" Elizabeth asked Joyce.
"William?" He looked up when his voice was called. Jenny introduced him to Elizabeth, "This is Elizabeth."
"It's her birthday today." Giles hinted.
William stepped forward and shyly looked up to meet the emerald eyes of the brown haired girl,
"H-happy . . . Happy B-birthday, luv."
Elizabeth stared at him, fascinated, "You talk funny, too!"
William stared at her, wide eyed, "What?"
"Your voice is all . . . weird." The birthday girl tried her best to explain.
"Elizabeth!" Joyce scolded.
But the two young children didn't hear as William defended himself.
"My voice is NOT weird!"
"Is too!" Elizabeth shot back, hands placed firmly on her hips.
"Is not!" William said louder.
"Is too!" Elizabeth growled.
"Is not!!" William yelled.
"Is too! Is too! Is *too*!" Elizabeth chanted.
"Is not. Is not!! Is *not*!!!" Willian chanted back, face inching closer to hers.
Elizabeth poked him in the chest in time with her words, "Is. Too."
William took a few steps back and a smirk formed on his lips, "Is. Not." He poked her back, but this time, he poked her on the side of her ribs. Elizabeth's most ticklish spot.
"AGH!" Elizabeth squealed and began running away from the vengeful boy. "Stay away!" Elizabeth giggled. William poked her on the side and she laughed.
"My voice is not weird!" William playfully growled.
"Yeah huh!" Elizabeth shouted and the two ran around the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, the yard, through the bedrooms......happy laughter filled the house as Joyce, Jenny, and Giles shook their heads and chuckled. The party resumed.
---------------------------------End Flashback------------------------------ ---
Ah . . . those were good times. I didn't have to worry about a thing back then. It was all fun and games. I didn't have to worry about grades or responsibilities, or if the clothes that I wore even matched. Worries was nothing but a word back then. Then again, it was probably just another word that I didn't understand, that I didn't *care* to understand.
Let's put it this way: I. Lived. In. A. Bubble.
And in this bubble, nothing could touch me, could harm me. Everything went my way. In this bubble, I could be whoever I wanted to be and wherever.
But no matter how hard I tried, my bubble would always stay imaginary. I really couldn't hide from the world. I couldn't hide from it's pain. I knew this when 2 years after my sixth birthday, the arguing began . . .
"Damnit, Hank!"
Elizabeth huddled in a corner of her bedroom, arms hugging her knees. She stared at her shut door, but that didn't stop the angry voices from filtering into her little ears.
Hank hiccuped, "What?"
"You've been drinking again!" Joyce accused.
Hank sniffed his breath and hiccuped again, "Nu-uh!"
Joyce shook his shoulders and held up three fingers up for him to see, "How many?"
"How many what?" Hank scratched his head.
"Fingers, Hank! Fingers!"
Hank squinted "Uh . . .er . . .argh!" He growled in frustration, grabbing Joyce's hand and held it close to his face.
"Well? How many fingers am I holding up?" She asked.
He growled in annoyance, "How the *hell* do you expect me to count how many fingers you're holding up when you keep moving them?!" He threw a glass vase at the door in anger.
"I'm *not* moving my hands, you moron. You're holding them still!" She spat, snatching her hands away from him, "I told you you were drunk."
"No, no, no. I'm not." He slurred, "Uh . . . you-" Hiccup. "You're h- holding up . . . five fingerrrrrs."
Joyce shook her head in shame, "My hand isn't even up anymore, Hank."
He tilted his head to the side in realization, "Oh."
Joyce plopped into a chair, "You told me you'd stop drinking."
"I'm sorry, baby." He swayed over to her and sloppily hugged his wife, "I'm so sorry, baby. I won't drin-"
"What's that smell?" Joyce cut him off.
Hank seemed, all of a sudden, *very* sober. "W-what smell?"
The brown haired woman pushed away from his arms, "That smell . . ."
His eyes widened, "Nothing."
"What? Can't you smell it?"
"No" Hank lied.
Joyce sniffed the air. "Is that . . . perfume?" She asked disbelievingly.
Hank laughed, "No!"
She grabbed the collar of his shirt and inhaled. She looked up at him with wide, tearful eyes. She whispered, "You cheated on me."
"I would never-"
"You cheated on me!" She yelled. She turned around and covered her face.
He reached for her. "Baby-"
She swung around to glare at him, "You've *been* cheating on me."
Hank recoiled as if he had been stung. She knew.
"I haven't." He denied unconvincingly.
"You *have*! Who the *hell* do you think does the laundry around here, Hank?!" She spat his name.
Hank remained silent.
"I've smelled the perfume, the lipstick marks on your shirt, and the fucking condoms you have hidden in the back pockets of your jeans!"
All this happened as Elizabeth continued to rock in the corner of her room. She hated the yelling. Hated the screaming.
She knew her father came home drunk every other night.
She knew there would be yelling every other night as well, but she never got used to the sound of glass breaking every time her father walked through the front door.
The girl shut her eyes tightly and covered her ears to drown out the horrible noises.
"God! I can't believe you've been cheating on me with another woman!" Joyce screamed outraged.
Hank was fully sober now and he looked at his wife, straight in the eye, "Yes, I have."
Joyce looked at him, wide-eyed in shock, "What?" Of course she was yelling about him sleeping with another woman, but to actually here it coming from him. It hurt so much more and made it all the more real.
Hank shrugged and picked up a bottle of alcohol. Finding it empty, he threw it towards Joyce. She backed up against the wall as glass was scattered everywhere as it did almost every night.
"I *have* been cheating on you." He shrugged again and chuckled, "But not with one woman."
Joyce had pain all over her face.
Her "husband" looked thoughtful for a moment. He looked up at the ceiling, as if it held the answers. "Hm . . . I think . . . It was about, give or take . . . three. Yeah. That was it. It was three a day. Three *different* woman, mind you." Finally finding a new bottle, he took a swig of it.
"Yup." He popped the "p," sounding very proud of himself, "But if you wanted to know the total amount. Well, sorry, Can't give you that. There were a *lot* of them." He whispered in her ear, "Young ones too . . ."
He laughed, "I think I have children all over the world. I heard that I have a two month old baby in Japan. Ha! Isn't that something?"
Joyce was disgusted and pushed him off her, her voice low, "You're a pig, a bastard, and God forigve me, but you are a sick fuck. Words cannot describe how disgusting you are."
Elizabeth jumped when she heard the front door shut with a bang. She crawled to her window and peeking through the blinds, she watched her fathers car speed away.
It was over. Somehow, she knew. There would be no more shouting, no more glass breaking. Her father was gone.
I loved my dad.
For those wondering, "no". He's not the man that I still love.
I did say "love," with a "d," didn't I?
I use to love my dad. He would always make me laugh and smile. You would never think someone like him was having an affair . . . or affairs, in this case.
So anyways, my parents signed the divorce papers and I never saw my daddy again. I was 8 years old and even then, I understood that he had been sleeping with other people.
Yes, I said "people." I wouldn't be surprised if the jerk was having sex with men as well, or dogs, rather. No, not female dogs, not bitches. I mean, *real* dogs. As you can see, I "used" to love him. I hate him with a passion now.
But when I was 8, I still loved him . . . maybe just a little bit . . . he was my daddy. My strong protector. My knight who would rescue me from the scary shadows in my closet.
In conclusion: I missed him terribly.
Having my father gone meant no one to watch me in the evenings. You see, my mom worked in a gallery. She worked from two o'clock to midnight. So who was to watch me now?
"I'd love to watch her for you, Joyce."
Of course, Grandma Jenny.
Married at the age of fifteen, got her first baby the same year, and sadly, became a widow at the age of 45. Then she found a boyfriend when she was 47. I met Giles on my sixth birthday. He was 47 then, the same age as Grandma Jenny.
Don't ask me why I called him "Giles." His full name is Rupert Giles, but he always wanted me to call him by his last name, Giles. Just Giles. So from then on, it was "Giles this" and "Giles that."
I also met his son on that day.
The shy little boy with brown curly hair.
Although young as I was, I think I already liked William. Maybe it was those cute little glasses he had perched on his nose. Or maybe it was the way he had comforted me on the first day I stayed at Grandma Jenny's house.
Elizabeth stepped into the big, but one floored house. She had heard from her mother that Grandma Jenny's boyfriend, Giles and his son William, were living there as well. So she had to "behave." As her mother liked to put it.
Elizabeth had only met him once, but they had had a lot of fun on her birthday. She couldn't wait to see him again.
Elizabeth hopped to the living room couch after giving her grandmother a hug. Swinging her legs back and forth, she turned on the tv. Seconds later, she sadly remembered that her daddy had gone away.
William was told by Grandma Jenny that Elizabeth's dad had left her and her mom. The young boy felt bad and did the only logical thing he could think of . . .
William joined the bummed Elizabeth on the couch . . . only to grab the remote from the eight year old's hands.
"Hey!" She pouted.
"Hey, what?" He asked innocently, flipping through the channels.
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest, "I was watching that."
He raised an eyebrow, "So?"
"So?" She asked increduously, "That means *you're* not supposed to change the channel!"
He shrugged, "I wanted to watch something else. Pokemon is *so* much better than the Power Rangers."
Her jaw dropped, "No it's not!"
"Yes it is."
"No it's not!"
"Yes it is!"
"Change it back!"
"No."
"Why?" The girl whined.
He had a smug look on his face, "Cause I'm older."
"That's not fair." She hit him playfully with a pillow.
He laughed, "Sorry, pet. It's not my fault-" She hit him again.
Elizabeth had forgotten all about the recent, tearful events. She felt happy again. William had done that for her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~A/N: So, did I lose any of you? I know. The style of writing is different, but I wanted to try it out. That's the kind of person I am. I love trying new things. Maybe you all should try doing new things. Example: To all those who haven't reviewed before, DO IT! *wink* ^_~ *giggles* teehee!
Please be kind and review. =)