Les I'm Miserable
hanihyunsu
The fresh scent of pines first seemed like something he could get used to but now it really was something he was used to, quite annoyingly so. The air was so crisp he might need an inhaler like Neil.
“Need a hand?”
“Done with your script?” he replied sarcastically, but he doubted Preston could pick it up from how similar he just sounded normally.
“Yes!” The taller boy reached for the firewood and rearranged them to be much more stable. “Act 1, that is. I haven’t edited it yet, but my hands started to hurt!”
Harrison reached deep into his hat and focused his energy on finding a match, hoping it wasn’t a watch or worse a sasquatch he would pull out. With minimum concentration he did manage to pull out a matchbox, and he gave himself a small smile of pride.
He was getting better at making things appear, even though he was at camp to figure out how to make things reappear.
Well, at least he had a match.
It was just when he was striking the kindling that he realized Preston was talking about something as he completely zoned out.
“Excuse me, what?” Harrison bent down for a second to blow over the small fire that he ignited at the leaves he striked. The flame started to grow steadily. “What are you talking about?”
Preston sat across from him, eyes wide and unblinking.
“Have you even listened to a single thing I have said?” he asked calmly, despite his eyes screaming offense and bloody murder. It was the face he had when they have rehearsals, and it was scary.
“Mmh, no?” Harrison gulped. He just remembered Preston hated being ignored.
Thanks to the heavens, Preston merely took in a sharp inhale and continued.
“You and Nerris, as I was saying. I was thinking about the past few days. It makes me wonder, Harrison,” Preston said, lacing his fingers together his crossing his legs. Harrison wasn’t looking but just from the tone of the taller kid’s voice he could tell he had that smirk on his face.
“What?” Harrison asked as he used a handkerchief to fan over the growing flame. He caught Preston’s golden eyes, which held a little bit more of a mischievous shine to it. He frowned; he could tell where this is going.
“If you two are so mad at each other, how come this night watching shifts work? And how are we still alive? Hmm?”
Harrison glared at him blankly before settling with a sigh. It must be a theater thing as Preston kept bugging him (and possibly Nerris too) about their “rivalry” and how he could incorporate it to his new script, but he still doesn’t get the point.
“It should occur to you I don’t really hate her?” Harrison said, “She hates me, there’s a difference.”
