〚FEATURED〛
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"My pick-up lines are great."
"Yeah, and I have a pet llama."
"You do??"
"No, idiot."
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Arc-en-ciel (n.): Rainbow
He's the perfect example of a thundercloud. He's rude, grumbly, and frightening to most- ready to harshly rain dow...
When I saw you, I fell in love, and you smiled, because you knew
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J A M E S
My day was going great until 8:37 A.M. today.
That was when I woke up. And I was not the slightest bit pleased with being dragged out of my sleep on a day when I had absolutely no obligation to be awake at this time.
Dragged was the word to use since Tyler- someone who I'd consider the closest person to a best friend- had attempted to pull me out of bed to hang out with the rest of them or something.
I hated hanging out. But then, as one could argue, I hated nearly everything.
His attempt- valiant as it had been- had landed him a swollen jaw, which he was currently nursing across me.
It had gotten to that point in our friendship where I didn't even feel sorry about it.
"Did you have to punch me in the face?" he whines indignantly as my Aunt Janine shoots me a disapproving look.
"Absolutely," I mutter, turning to the next page of my book without looking at him.
"What would your wife and three children think of this violence?"
"I don't have a wife or three children."
"What about your husband then?"
I don't bother dignifying him with a response.
"Is the ice helping, darling?" my Aunt asks him worriedly, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her misplaced concern.
That was the weakest punch I could've possibly thrown his way and it hadn't hurt him at all. Fucker was milking it so much you might as well call him a farmer.
"It is," he nods graciously, offering her his most sincere, gracious, and charming smile, "Thank you, Janine. You wouldn't mind if James still came along with us to hang out, would you?"
"I would mind," I tell him, but he ignores me- his eyes bright and the perfect imitation of a pleading child as he looks at my aunt.
"Of course, he can," she says, with a warm smile that reminded me far too much of someone else, as she gives me another disapproving look, "The Lord knows he wouldn't socialize with a single soul for the rest of his life if he was given a choice. Up you get James, it's the least you can do after you punched the poor boy in the face."
Poor boy my ass.
I glare at him over the top of my book, but the fucker doesn't seem in the slightest bit phased- returning my look with a smirk.
"How 'bout I give you another bruise to make you rescind the invitation?" I ask sardonically, an eyebrow raised, "That might change your mind-"
