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Post by sarahh on Sept 17, 2011 18:06:56 GMT -5
a quiet place was the only thing bailee needed at the moment. everything at her place was driving her insane. and she wanted to write. bailee racked her brain, trying to think of place she could go for a quiet sanctuary. pulling a sweater over her head for warmth as she headed over, bailee headed over to her mirror, making sure that she looked okay. after running her fingers through her long brown hair, she was ready to go. she slowly made her way outside, pulling her arms closer to her chest for warmth. it wasn't the warmest out, and her sweater wasn't doing much justice for her body. the cold air made her walk a little faster, trying to get to her destination quicker. if there was one thing that bailee execrated, it was cold weather.
the closer she got the library, the faster she walked. it were days like these which made her wish she was taking her car, which just so happened to be in the shop for fixing on the coldest days of season. bailee loved weather when it was almost ninety degrees out, it was her kind of perfection. this, was hell. reaching the door to the library, she entered the building quietly. libraries were supposed to be quiet and peaceful, and she didn't want to disrupt anything. bailee made her way over to a table, quietly sitting down. she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and started doodling little pictures. her real intention was to write a song, but she needed to get her juices flowing. after a bit of doodling, bailee began scribbling ideas on the paper for a song, wanting no disruptions.
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Post by nicko on Oct 16, 2011 11:24:42 GMT -5
Nicko was in a bad mood. When all was lost- he would look to books, but he didn't have any on his "current situation", as his friend had put it.
He had woken up like a bear coming out of hibernation; hungry and irritated. Padding downstairs, Nicko had been angered to see that the WHOLE FAMILY had had breakfast without waking him. The nerve of some people. So he had poured a bowl of cereal, used up the last of the milk and sat down in his undies.
Which was when, of course, his best friend just had to come along and tap on the window. Turning bright red, Nicko had let him in, ashamed that he was still waking up and he was dressed, showered and looking gorgeous. He had chattered away while Nicko clumsily scoffed his cereal, then he had left with a parting hug.
Chest still burning where he had pressed up against it, Nicko had dressed in a daze and headed to the library. It seems an odd place to go after a romantic (for him) experience, maybe the beach or something would be better, but Nicko wanted some help.
He crept into the library, trying not to breath loudly. Heading over to the aisle he wanted, he ran his finger across the spines- and it stopped. He tugged out a book and curled up in a squashy chair with coarse material that hurt his bare skin, near a girl scribbling on a peice of paper. He sighed at the title and opened his book: 501 Great Things About Being Gay. He flipped through the book and tried to think about his "situation" being a good thing: he just couldn't. It wasn't possible.
He decided to open his mind up to the possibility that she could be nice and grinned half-heartedly at her. "Hi, um," he said hesitantly, then slid his book onto his lap so that there was no indication showing that it was about being gay. "I was wondering- if you've got a problem, a big one, what do you do?" He wasn't usually this open, but he wanted to find something that could make his day better.
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