|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2007 5:13 pm
He coughed, bringing a gloved hand to his mouth.
Damn this cough. . . He's always had that cough, ever since he was about five years old. He was approximately twenty four now, so that a clear nineteen years of constant coughing. But, even though how much he despised it, he didn't know how his life would be without the cough. People knew him BECAUSE of the cough. . . If they didn't know him because of his ingenuity in fights.
I wonder what today is going to bring. . .
Every day, he woke up not knowing what he was going to do for the rest of the day. How could he know? He didn't have any family, didn't have any friends. He couldn't just go up to one of them and be like: Hey, let's hang out today. So he spent his days either training, in tournaments, in fights around the town against people trying to get a quick shot at fame at hoping to beat him, or just walking around by himself.
Which was an interesting situation in of itself. He was a very attractive being and there was this sort of. . . Interesting phenomenon in the feeling one gets from being around him. There was a clear feeling of being able to trust him with one's life. . . But then there's also this feeling of dread and uneasiness.
His head rested against the wall behind him, his silver eyes glistening in the sun before he closed his eyes. His head spent a split second on the wall before he shook his head as if to shake off something from him.
Merde, it's so boring around here.
He didn't know what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, but he knew that it wasn't here, wasting his time with people who didn't offer him any sort of excitement at all. The moment that his involvement in a tournament was announced, every single other competitor suddenly contracted a horrible disease that didn't allow them to compete that they suddenly got over when the tournament was over on account of not enough competitors.
He knew that they were afraid of him, as they well should be.
But then again, maybe not. He was a Romantic at heart, but hardly anyone knew that.
As his head went forward, his silver hair fell in front of his closed eyes. His hands came up from the pockets of his black jeans and created a cup where his face landed in.
He just stood there, considering he had nothing else to do.
Hopefully something exciting will happen today.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2007 5:59 pm
Milena stared into the eyes of her boyfriend as she contemplated different ways to kill him.
I could stab him, cut his body apart, bury some parts across the town, and sink others in the stream...
She hated him more than any person on the planet, and she wasn't even sure why the loathing was so strong.
It wasn't like he was abusive or uncaring; he actually went out of his way to make her happy.
That's what pissed her off.
She felt like he was fake in some way. Like he thought she was crazy, so he had to go to great lengths to keep her happy so she didn't cut his head off with a butter knife.
That was another option she'd thought of trying.
Milena sighed and threw her purse into the seat beside her. "I ******** hate men," she said in a growling voice. She wanted someone who understood her, someone that could handle her. At the same time, she wanted to castrate almost every guy around with a pair of scissors and a hot glue gun. She didn't believe in love, not anymore; it was all a hoax created by Hallmark shitheads to populate the species and lead airheaded bimbos to think that someone out there wants them for who they are, not what panties they are wearing or how good they are in bed.
As she was driving down the road, Milena spotted a guy standing against a wall. His hair was silver, which attracted her attention. She loved dying her hair; at the moment, it was vivid cornflower blue to match her dark blue eyes.
"I wonder if his hair is naturally that colour..." she voiced aloud.
As she pulled up to the stranger, she put her anger away and tried to look like a normal person, if that was possible.
She rolled her passenger window down and looked right at the guy. With a slightly raised voice so the man could hear her, she said "Want a ride?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2007 7:00 pm
Need a ride?
He looked over in the direction of the question and looked at her. He brought a hand over to the hair that was covering the right side of his face, revealing the single imperfection in his body. . .
A scar that went from the right corner of his right eye, trailing down towards the center of his chin. Where that scar came from, no one knew. He always had it, ever since he appeared about fifteen years ago.
Well, I don't really have a place to go. So I guess I don't really need a ride. . . His voice was a deep one, allowing anyone who listens to it to relax, even though his appearance gave people the feeling of uneasiness.
It's interesting how she's getting over that feeling that everyone seems to feel about me.
His body straightened, his hands falling from his face, going into the pockets of his jeans. His head cocked, he was interested in this woman who suddenly came up to him and asked him if he wanted a ride. . .
Didn't you ever learn not to talk to strangers?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 06, 2007 4:45 pm
Milena laughed as she replied, "Yeah, well, a lot of the things I learned proved to be complete s**t."
She thought of her parents telling her to settle down with a 'good guy,' of them telling her that college was perfect for her brilliant mind.
PFFFT, that's not what the dean said right before he told me to pack my bags and get the hell off of his campus, she thought bitterly.
"You look bored and lonely; so what if you have nowhere to go? I'll take you to my AA meeting." She put a serious face on for a grand total of 2 seconds, then burst out laughing.
"I'm totally just kidding. I actually have nowhere to go right now either, as a matter of fact. I'm just driving around, wasting gas paid for by my waste-of-time job. I'm sure we can find somewhere to go. That is, if you feel like it."
She hoped the stranger would say yes. She didn't know anything about him, and she was glad for it. She was ******** tired of people she knew- all of them pissed her off.
Plus, this guy had a different feel to him. She felt nervous yet uninhibited when she talked to him, and that was new, too.
New was good.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 06, 2007 5:42 pm
You look bored and lonely; so what if you have nowhere to go? I'll take you to my AA meeting.
He just raised an eyebrow as she said that before she started to laugh. He then cocked his head once more to the right. He didn't understand why this woman was coming up to him and talking to him the way she was. It wasn't that it was a bad thing that something was going on; in fact, it was what he wanted, no? Something interesting to happen. . .
But this was way out of the ordinary. Since when do people really went out of their way to talk to him? Since when do people went out of their way to talk to him AND offer him a ride wherever he wanted AND continue talking even after he turned them down?
I'm totally just kidding. I actually have nowhere to go right now either, as a matter of fact. I'm just driving around, wasting gas paid for by my waste-of-time job. I'm sure we can find somewhere to go. That is, if you feel like it.
Again, his eyebrow went up in a half-amused manner.
She really doesn't know who I am. . . Or at least what my reputation is.
But then again, that's not really a surprise. Only in underground fighting rings is he known as the man who looks like an angel straight out of the stories but fights like a devil. In normal life, he wasn't known at all. . . But that still doesn't give him the right to get into the car with her and potentially put her into a ride that could destroy her. . .
But, hell, if he were to give this up now, who knows when the next person could come around asking him if he wanted a ride to nowhere. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. . .
I guess. But, tell me where we're going to go, first. Let me make sure that you're not a homicidal maniac or anything.
And with that he came up to the passenger side window, looking straight into her eyes. This was a look that many people had: a look of being able to see into your inner-most soul and know exactly what you're feeling. . .
And with him, it wasn't only a look, it sometimes was the truth.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2007 12:41 pm
Milena shrugged. "As long as it's less than thiry minutes away, I don't care. I was on my way to the Fairtrain Bridge, but I'm sure you don't want to go dangle your legs through the concrete bars of the bridge and stare off at the dirty river flowing underneath. Because that's what I was going to do."
She loved the Fairtrain Bridge - it reminded her of better times when she used to sit there with her brother. Her brother shot himself when she was seventeen, leaving no causation behind, just his brain splattered on his Nirvana poster.
When they were younger, they came to the bridge, dangled their legs between the bars and dreamed of what they would become when they grew up. He always had such elaborate dreams: he wanted to be the first asronaut to get a rock from Mars, he wanted to be the drummer in a famous English rock band, and the list went on. She would laugh at him, he would chase her, and they would always end up dripping wet from pushing each other in the river, back when it was clean and free from litter.
She missed those days of innocence, before reality woke her up with the ring of a gunshot. The bridge always made her feel calm, and calm was what she needed to keep from killing her idiot boyfriend. Of course, she figured new company would help just as much, if not more.
"So, do you want to go to the mall or a coffee shop or something? Homicidal maniacs offer to take you to to a dark alley or their apartment or something, so I think my offers are safe."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2007 5:39 pm
He smiled a little, before grabbing the handle of the door, pausing for a quick second. He turned back to the wall that he was leaning against, wondering what just happened.
How did this happen? I guess that Universe-listening-to-people thing actually works. There I was, thinking about how I wanted something to happen and something did happen. . .
He slid into her car, making sure his black jacket was safely inside the vehicle before closing the door behind him.
He then looked at her, his eyes probing her every movement, her every twitch. He wanted to make her feel like he was dissecting her with his eyes, or at the very least, undressing her.
He always wanted to push his so-called friendships to the limit, see where they would break and no longer be friends with him. Although it left him in a state of loneliness again where he would b***h and complain to himself about the fact that his life was boring. . . It allowed him to know pretty much everything about people.
You drive, I don't really care where you take me.
He locked the car door and leaned against it, keeping his eyes firmly locked on her.
Come on. . . Blink. Show your weakness.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 22, 2008 11:43 am
Milena put the car in drive, not really having a destination in mind.
She felt the stare of the man beside her - not that it really bothered her.
She was used to it, being an attractive female in this day and age.
If her ample figure and long, shining black hair didn't catch a guy's eye, it was the fire in her long-lashed eyes. Her life had led her to believe that planning and hoping was for fools: it only left you with shambles and destruction, wondering where the hell you took that left turn in Albuquerque. So, with that in mind, she became a somewhat reckless individual that ran on whims and passions, the latter of which she had run out of recently.
"You know, I can tell you're staring at me. Maybe a picture will suffice?"
She pulled her digital camera out of her open purse on the floor and tossed it to him.
"You can take pictures, look through it, whatever. I don't really care."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
