Don't you just love sundays? They're always so very. . . quiet. I'd say peaceful
except, well, they aren't.
Oh, it's just find and dandy while I'm the only one awake. I just usually wake up, eat
something with lots of sugar in it (^~ the more, the merrier), and sit down for a hard morning of
rigorous Sunday-morning-cartoon viewing. Omy plods down the stairs soon after that (looking
quite adorable with ruffled hair and chillywilly pj's, I might add), heading to find something even
more sugar-coma-inducing than my own breakfast.
As he comes over to join me, Aya heads down from his room, looking as
neat as only Aya can on a Sunday morning. I don't think even God knows what he does
after that, but I do know that it involves car keys and the best arrangement of flowers
from the shop. . . .
Maybe he has a girlfriend!! I tried to follow him once, but he just went
into some hospital downtown. Not exactly the most romantic rendevous point, but hey,
who am I to judge.
I won't even bother to tell you everything that happens between when
Aya leaves and Yohji wakes up. That would just be a waste of space. . . Quite a lot of
space. . .
Anywho, this Sunday should have been like all the others. It started out the
same anyways; I had just gotten out of bed (a huge accomplishment taking in account
Aya's stinginess with the heating bill) and worked my way down the stairs, happily
anticipating the afore-mentioned, coma-inducing meal, but when I got to the kitchen, it
came to me. AYA had gone shopping this week, as the rest of us were busy. This meant
no sweets.
Anywhere.
I should have recognized this immediately as the bad omen that it was, but I was
distracted by the sound of Omi slowly making his way downstairs. Quickly, I rushed over to the
T.V. and switched to the morning cartoons, hoping that Omi would joing me and the morning
would be restored to normal.
One show came on and ended, quickly followed by another and still no Omi. Worried, I
peaked into the kitchen, but unless the chibi was inside one of the cabinates looking for sugar, he
was not there.
Continuing on through the room into the den, I witnessed one of the cutest sights that has
ever been seen: Omi was fast asleep at his computer, head resting in his crossed arms.
After the shojo bubbles and sparkles cleared from around me, I headed over to check on
him.
Sure enough, his mouth was wide open, and small drops of drool were dripping from it
onto the keys. So, being the faithful friend that I am (and being fearful of his temper if his
beloved keyboard was damaged), I picked him up and placed him on the couch, where he
promptly rolled over and fell back asleep.
Poor Omi.
Normally his computer turns him into the energizer chibi. What could have bade him so
bored that he would fall asleep?
I turned around, and all became clear.
History essay.
Those two little words that haunt every high schooler's nichtmeares. Still, it's unlike the
chibi to fall asleep.
Worried, I crossed over to the couch and looked at him more closely. Sure enough, his
face was flushed and beaded with sweat. Normal Omi would not fall asleep while working, but
Sick Omi would. (Normal Omi would probably also have done the paper earlier so that he could
watch cartoons.)
I can't just let this paper sit here when Omi was trying so hard to finish it. . . . . . . .
I'll finish it for him.
except, well, they aren't.
Oh, it's just find and dandy while I'm the only one awake. I just usually wake up, eat
something with lots of sugar in it (^~ the more, the merrier), and sit down for a hard morning of
rigorous Sunday-morning-cartoon viewing. Omy plods down the stairs soon after that (looking
quite adorable with ruffled hair and chillywilly pj's, I might add), heading to find something even
more sugar-coma-inducing than my own breakfast.
As he comes over to join me, Aya heads down from his room, looking as
neat as only Aya can on a Sunday morning. I don't think even God knows what he does
after that, but I do know that it involves car keys and the best arrangement of flowers
from the shop. . . .
Maybe he has a girlfriend!! I tried to follow him once, but he just went
into some hospital downtown. Not exactly the most romantic rendevous point, but hey,
who am I to judge.
I won't even bother to tell you everything that happens between when
Aya leaves and Yohji wakes up. That would just be a waste of space. . . Quite a lot of
space. . .
Anywho, this Sunday should have been like all the others. It started out the
same anyways; I had just gotten out of bed (a huge accomplishment taking in account
Aya's stinginess with the heating bill) and worked my way down the stairs, happily
anticipating the afore-mentioned, coma-inducing meal, but when I got to the kitchen, it
came to me. AYA had gone shopping this week, as the rest of us were busy. This meant
no sweets.
Anywhere.
I should have recognized this immediately as the bad omen that it was, but I was
distracted by the sound of Omi slowly making his way downstairs. Quickly, I rushed over to the
T.V. and switched to the morning cartoons, hoping that Omi would joing me and the morning
would be restored to normal.
One show came on and ended, quickly followed by another and still no Omi. Worried, I
peaked into the kitchen, but unless the chibi was inside one of the cabinates looking for sugar, he
was not there.
Continuing on through the room into the den, I witnessed one of the cutest sights that has
ever been seen: Omi was fast asleep at his computer, head resting in his crossed arms.
After the shojo bubbles and sparkles cleared from around me, I headed over to check on
him.
Sure enough, his mouth was wide open, and small drops of drool were dripping from it
onto the keys. So, being the faithful friend that I am (and being fearful of his temper if his
beloved keyboard was damaged), I picked him up and placed him on the couch, where he
promptly rolled over and fell back asleep.
Poor Omi.
Normally his computer turns him into the energizer chibi. What could have bade him so
bored that he would fall asleep?
I turned around, and all became clear.
History essay.
Those two little words that haunt every high schooler's nichtmeares. Still, it's unlike the
chibi to fall asleep.
Worried, I crossed over to the couch and looked at him more closely. Sure enough, his
face was flushed and beaded with sweat. Normal Omi would not fall asleep while working, but
Sick Omi would. (Normal Omi would probably also have done the paper earlier so that he could
watch cartoons.)
I can't just let this paper sit here when Omi was trying so hard to finish it. . . . . . . .
I'll finish it for him.