"Icarus flew too close to the sun, but at least he flew."
-Jeremy Robert Johnson
He was your Icarus, and you were his sun. That's how you saw it, anyway. Together, you formed the wings that would carry you to the top of the world...and then you'd b...
"Okay...I mean...going out is one thing...but...WHY DO I HAVE TO WEAR THIS?!" I was clawing at the frame of the door as I glared at the pro, who was simply dressed in his usual costume. "Can't go wrong with a strapless, backless, classical little black dress..." He chuckled; tilting his head to get a different view. "You sound like Jeanist!" I snapped; whirling around and heading back into my room. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me why!" He followed me into my bathroom; leaning against the door as I began to brush my teeth violently. "Can't you just trust me?" He asked; his eyes sweeping up and down my form as I sent both plaque and enamel to hell.
I do...but...I don't want to...
I didn't answer out loud, and the pro just shrugged and left me to my vicious hygiene ritual. I spat out the toothpaste into the basin and watched it ooze down the drain with a scowl on my face. Whatever the man had planned was going to be taxing; I knew that, whether it would be emotionally or physically. He was a lazy son of a bitch, but when the mood struck him, he could power on for hours. Especially when it came to other people. "Oi!" I called out; pulling my hair out from the messy (f/hairstyle) and brushing it with my fingers. "Yeah?!" His response called back from his own room. "I'll humour you if you can promise me I won't have to talk to people!" I grabbed one of the charcoal eyeliner pencils from the top draw; leaning closer to the mirror. "Cross my heart, Sunshine! Tonight, it's just gonna be you and m-PATRICIA! KINDLY FUCK RIGHT OFF, THANK YOU!" I snorted; thankful I hadn't already started to apply the liner, otherwise I would've had to rock an eyepatch for the evening. "Okay, I'll come!" I laughed as I traced my upper lids and tossed the pencil back into its rightful place. "Cool! But, uh...we won't be going anywhere unless you CALL OFF THIS UNHOLY LITTLE BITCH!" I could hear him scrambling around, and the squeak of bed springs just made me lose it; lightly smacking the porcelain of the bathroom counter. After composing myself, I wandered across the hall to rescue the supposed pro. He was quite literally perched on the head of his bed; one shoe sacrificed to the demon roomba named Patricia, and a shaken expression upon his face. "It's a vacuum cleaner. You're scared of a vacuum cleaner, Hawks..." I sighed; nudging the contraption back out the door with my foot. "It's gonna stab me in my sleep..." He whimpered; finally climbing down from the bed head and smoothing down his feathers. "She doesn't have any arms, you dummy...You're being paranoid..." I said with a roll of my eyes. My arms folded across my chest, I turned and skipped off after my mechanical pet. "SHE?! WHY ARE YOU PUTTING A DEMONIC SACK OF BOLTS ABOVE ME?!" He screeched as he hopped after me; one foot in the air as he tried to slip his shoe back on. "Don't listen to him, sweetie. You're doing great!" "SUNSHIIIIIIIIIINE!"
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(I love him but drawing him makes my soul turn to sludge - I gave up when I got to sketching the roomba)
