"As you wish," replied Legolas. He was staring out the window, his eyes
again unfocused, completely vacant. I parted Legolas hair and made two
small braids, one from each side, come to the back, tying them off.
"Alright, finished," I said. Legolas stood up and turned to face me. He looked gorgeous, with his golden locks cascading over his shoulders. It was all I could do to keep from touching him. "Oh, a mirror." I led Legolas into my bathroom and he looked into the mirror for a second, and then smiled.
"Thank you," he said. "It looks splendid, and I did not mind your brushing, you were too gentle. Would you do this again some time, for me?" I nodded. "Thank you." Just then, Peter walked in.
"What'd you do?" he asked, teasingly. "No, actually you look wicked. If I were gay, Hell, I'd ask you out."
"Erm - I'll take that well," said Legolas, looking to me for some sort of help. I shrugged.
"That's just Peter's way," I whispered to Legolas as I walked out of the room. I went back into the living room and sat down on the couch. Soon, Legolas came in. He watched TV over my shoulders for a couple of seconds and then sat down beside me. After a while, I got up to go to the kitchen to make some tea for Legolas and I.
"Football practice starts in 20 minutes at the field. You want to take him, or should I?" asked Peter.
"Um, you can, I suppose," I answered. The truth was that I didn't want to be alone in a car with Legolas, for fear of what I might do.
"Alright, I'll go fetch him then," replied Peter. He went into the living room and soon returned with Legolas and a gym bag. "Oh, we'll be gone for a while.I've got some errands I have to do with him and tonight.then, too."
"Alright," I murmured.
"Namaarie," said Legolas, gently hugging me.
I hugged back and said, "Cheerio." Legolas smiled for a second, but Peter socked him in the shoulder and two seconds later, they were gone, the door shutting with a resounding click. I sighed and sank into a kitchen chair. I was exhausted.it must have been all the crying. It always seemed to make me feel languid. I resolved to call my friend Casey. I sat down on my bed, dialed her number, and melted back into the pillows.
"This is Olga and Helga's Sausage Emporium, how may I help you?" Her normal greeting.
"'Ello, Casey." I said.
"Syd!" yelled Casey.
"Yup, yup, me," I replied.
"How are ya?" she asked.
"Um, I'm ok, how are you?"
"Great, like a possum on a tricycle," she answered.
"Wow.that good," I said. She laughed. "I figured we hadn't talked and well.things have happened and I need a bit of a reality check.suppose I shouldn't have called you then." Casey laughed again. I heard a high- pitched squeak on the other end of the line. "God bless you." Any other person would have thought she was beating a mouse with a tube of toothpaste.
"Thanks," she said. "So, are you coming back anytime soon? Whit! Leggo the phone!" I laughed.
"Whit's there?" I asked.
"Oh, ya, like a pineapple in an oven mitt."
"But of course."
"So, what kind of stuff?" Casey asked.
"Oh, just the usual," I answered, a complete lie of course. How many people lived with an elf as of yesterday? "How about you?"
"Oh, I'm alright," she said. "Not dead yet, because if I were dead, then I wouldn't really be talking to you anymore, so if I'm talking, I must not be dead, that is unless I'm a zombie. But if I'm a zombie, then maybe I couldn't talk because my jaw would fall off. But I'm not a zombie. Wait. Hold on. Let me check and make sure."
The conversation went on for hours. Quite a pick-me-up for me, what with the recent happenings, just to hear a familiar voice, and Casey just liked to talk, so it proved to be quite a symbiotic phone call. The conversation ended with a "gotta jet," a "cheerio," and a yell from Whit in the background that I had better be shagging every man in a kilt or he'd whomp me. I hung up, sighed, and sank back into the pillows. What a weekend.wait.tomorrow was Monday! The ornithology three-day clinic! I didn't have the energy to deal with Beth and Mary, the prodigal mean girls of Peter and my advanced Biology class. I got changed and did my nightly routine as quickly as I could and jumped into bed, planning on doing some professional speed sleeping. Peter must have forgotten. Screw him.
I woke up to the less than melodic buzzing of my alarm clock. I reached over and punched it, rolling to what I thought was the edge of the mattress. I promptly fell out of bed with a sound thump, onto the floor. I moaned and got to my knees, then feet. I threw on jeans, boots, and a blue shirt. I pulled back my hair and did my morning routine in a sleepy jumble. I walked into the kitchen, still stumbling and not completely awake. I ran into the counter and mutter an inaudible curse.
"Quel ara," said Legolas, handing me a mug of cranberry tea.
"Good morning," I replied, taking a sip. "Sorry, but I'm a bit late, a bunch stressed, and less than intelligent this morning." Legolas laughed. "I've got to get to class.in about.NOW!" I jumped as I looked at the clock. I had five minutes, all of which I should be in the car driving.
"Peter has already left," said Legolas. "Are you going?"
"Ya, I better leave pronto," I answered. I took one sip of tea and hugged Legolas goodbye, dashing out the door. I made to school by the skin of my teeth, slipping into my seat beside Peter breathless and panting. He looked at the board smugly, his arms crossed, a hint of a smile on his face. When I saw his look and realized no one was in the room, I looked up at the classroom clock. He had set the flat clocks a half an hour early.
"Peter." I said, my voice full of pressure-loaded rage.
"Yes, Sydney, love?" he asked innocently, still not making eye contact with me.
"I will get you back so badly that you cry at night when you think about it." I said. He laughed. "No, I mean it. You will cry like a baby." We sat there, me in a royal pout, Peter barely suppressing laughter, for the half hour before class started. After the day's classes, I followed Peter out to the parking lot. We still hadn't talked. He got in the driver's side of his red Toyota Echo and went to close the door. I stopped it with my foot. He looked up at me, as though he hadn't the faintest clue that I had been there the whole time, which he knew perfectly well.
"Alright, finished," I said. Legolas stood up and turned to face me. He looked gorgeous, with his golden locks cascading over his shoulders. It was all I could do to keep from touching him. "Oh, a mirror." I led Legolas into my bathroom and he looked into the mirror for a second, and then smiled.
"Thank you," he said. "It looks splendid, and I did not mind your brushing, you were too gentle. Would you do this again some time, for me?" I nodded. "Thank you." Just then, Peter walked in.
"What'd you do?" he asked, teasingly. "No, actually you look wicked. If I were gay, Hell, I'd ask you out."
"Erm - I'll take that well," said Legolas, looking to me for some sort of help. I shrugged.
"That's just Peter's way," I whispered to Legolas as I walked out of the room. I went back into the living room and sat down on the couch. Soon, Legolas came in. He watched TV over my shoulders for a couple of seconds and then sat down beside me. After a while, I got up to go to the kitchen to make some tea for Legolas and I.
"Football practice starts in 20 minutes at the field. You want to take him, or should I?" asked Peter.
"Um, you can, I suppose," I answered. The truth was that I didn't want to be alone in a car with Legolas, for fear of what I might do.
"Alright, I'll go fetch him then," replied Peter. He went into the living room and soon returned with Legolas and a gym bag. "Oh, we'll be gone for a while.I've got some errands I have to do with him and tonight.then, too."
"Alright," I murmured.
"Namaarie," said Legolas, gently hugging me.
I hugged back and said, "Cheerio." Legolas smiled for a second, but Peter socked him in the shoulder and two seconds later, they were gone, the door shutting with a resounding click. I sighed and sank into a kitchen chair. I was exhausted.it must have been all the crying. It always seemed to make me feel languid. I resolved to call my friend Casey. I sat down on my bed, dialed her number, and melted back into the pillows.
"This is Olga and Helga's Sausage Emporium, how may I help you?" Her normal greeting.
"'Ello, Casey." I said.
"Syd!" yelled Casey.
"Yup, yup, me," I replied.
"How are ya?" she asked.
"Um, I'm ok, how are you?"
"Great, like a possum on a tricycle," she answered.
"Wow.that good," I said. She laughed. "I figured we hadn't talked and well.things have happened and I need a bit of a reality check.suppose I shouldn't have called you then." Casey laughed again. I heard a high- pitched squeak on the other end of the line. "God bless you." Any other person would have thought she was beating a mouse with a tube of toothpaste.
"Thanks," she said. "So, are you coming back anytime soon? Whit! Leggo the phone!" I laughed.
"Whit's there?" I asked.
"Oh, ya, like a pineapple in an oven mitt."
"But of course."
"So, what kind of stuff?" Casey asked.
"Oh, just the usual," I answered, a complete lie of course. How many people lived with an elf as of yesterday? "How about you?"
"Oh, I'm alright," she said. "Not dead yet, because if I were dead, then I wouldn't really be talking to you anymore, so if I'm talking, I must not be dead, that is unless I'm a zombie. But if I'm a zombie, then maybe I couldn't talk because my jaw would fall off. But I'm not a zombie. Wait. Hold on. Let me check and make sure."
The conversation went on for hours. Quite a pick-me-up for me, what with the recent happenings, just to hear a familiar voice, and Casey just liked to talk, so it proved to be quite a symbiotic phone call. The conversation ended with a "gotta jet," a "cheerio," and a yell from Whit in the background that I had better be shagging every man in a kilt or he'd whomp me. I hung up, sighed, and sank back into the pillows. What a weekend.wait.tomorrow was Monday! The ornithology three-day clinic! I didn't have the energy to deal with Beth and Mary, the prodigal mean girls of Peter and my advanced Biology class. I got changed and did my nightly routine as quickly as I could and jumped into bed, planning on doing some professional speed sleeping. Peter must have forgotten. Screw him.
I woke up to the less than melodic buzzing of my alarm clock. I reached over and punched it, rolling to what I thought was the edge of the mattress. I promptly fell out of bed with a sound thump, onto the floor. I moaned and got to my knees, then feet. I threw on jeans, boots, and a blue shirt. I pulled back my hair and did my morning routine in a sleepy jumble. I walked into the kitchen, still stumbling and not completely awake. I ran into the counter and mutter an inaudible curse.
"Quel ara," said Legolas, handing me a mug of cranberry tea.
"Good morning," I replied, taking a sip. "Sorry, but I'm a bit late, a bunch stressed, and less than intelligent this morning." Legolas laughed. "I've got to get to class.in about.NOW!" I jumped as I looked at the clock. I had five minutes, all of which I should be in the car driving.
"Peter has already left," said Legolas. "Are you going?"
"Ya, I better leave pronto," I answered. I took one sip of tea and hugged Legolas goodbye, dashing out the door. I made to school by the skin of my teeth, slipping into my seat beside Peter breathless and panting. He looked at the board smugly, his arms crossed, a hint of a smile on his face. When I saw his look and realized no one was in the room, I looked up at the classroom clock. He had set the flat clocks a half an hour early.
"Peter." I said, my voice full of pressure-loaded rage.
"Yes, Sydney, love?" he asked innocently, still not making eye contact with me.
"I will get you back so badly that you cry at night when you think about it." I said. He laughed. "No, I mean it. You will cry like a baby." We sat there, me in a royal pout, Peter barely suppressing laughter, for the half hour before class started. After the day's classes, I followed Peter out to the parking lot. We still hadn't talked. He got in the driver's side of his red Toyota Echo and went to close the door. I stopped it with my foot. He looked up at me, as though he hadn't the faintest clue that I had been there the whole time, which he knew perfectly well.