(no subject)

[yaysoccer.livejournal.com]

[ having decided that meeting anthony half-way would be best for this particular... conversation, he walks a bit slowly, quite aware that his dorm was closer to the school than his friend-slash-goalie's house. (that and he would probably have to struggle with his mode of transportation for a while.) so instead of the usual ten minutes it takes him to arrive to this particular destination, he gives himself thirty, casually making his way to one of the benches underneath a tree.

takes a seat, pulls out his cellphone, then begins to check his messages as he waits; it would be at least another fifteen minute wait, one he was finally willing to be patient for. after all, he wasn't expecting much, anyway. when it came to feelings, expectations were the worst things to have, or so he had logically deducted throughout his childhood. besides, it wouldn't be the end of the world if anything negative happened. this was anthony, after all, the boy who clucked and bawked louder than he spoke or made any semblance of sense with his words.

... it almost made him second-guess himself. almost.

pockets his phone and tilts his head backwards instead, letting it rest against the top of the bench. just simply stares up into the branches and leaves of the tree, allowing himself to show a rare display of being lost in some non-thoughts for the time being. ]

Comments

[littlebitharder.livejournal.com]

[ slowly plucks the album from anthony's arms, setting it aside when she notices that he looks ready to puff, wooo sleepy. ]

The rooster knows all and sees all. [ pats the cushions a little, slipping off of the couch. ] C'mon, you can crash here for the night.

[bawkmajor.livejournal.com]

[ flops backward into the cushions obediently, laying an arm over his eyes. grapples with his thoughts just enough to manage: ]

Thanks. Fuzzy brain but thanks.

[littlebitharder.livejournal.com]

[ huffs out in amusement, reaching out to gently ruffle his hair (again). ]

You're fuzzy, alright. [ walks off for a second, coming back with a blanket. covers him with it. ] Night, chicken boy.

1/2

[bawkmajor.livejournal.com]

[ wiggles under the blanket so that only his eyes and hair are poking out. ]

Niiight.

[bawkmajor.livejournal.com]

[ rolls left to right for a few more seconds & then he's out.

and a few seconds following that: puff woooo... ]

[littlebitharder.livejournal.com]

[ squats down next to him and stares at his face, snickering once he starts that puff woooing of his. ceases her laughter when an idea strikes her, reaching over for her cellphone (loses balance--oof--lands on her butt on the ground) before fumbling with it for a moment.

makes sure she has the right program open on her phone, grinning from ear-to-ear when she begins to record the sound anthony continues to make; it's now that she plans on stealing michael's phone and putting it as his ringtone when he gets back from his mini-vacation.

yawns and drops the phone on the coffee table when she's finished, feeling her eyes droop slightly from the effects of the alcohol finally taking its toll. puts her head on the edge of the couch (a little below the puff wooing face, careful to not smash his nose) and within seconds she's out like a light. ]