So…what’s this? [Angel]
As I sat on the soggy riverbank, I could feel the eat of my pants dampening, becoming wetter and wetter the more time passed. This fact didn’t phase me, nope. As usual, I was lost in thought, wandering down a lane within my memory that was probably better left untraveled.
A sigh escaped my lips, “Hope, you’re a dumb person.”
The glass bottle was cold in my hand, the condensation dripping off the outside a by product of the cool liquid within battling the hot, damp air that tinged the 98 degree day. Even here, along the water, under trees whose moss hung so low, you could camp under it, the sun still burned your skin, hot and sweet.
The burn that was taking up residence on my pale frame would kill me later, but right now, all I cared about were my thoughts, bottle, and wet bottom.After drawing a heavy swig from it, contents burning deeply in my stomach, I ran the cold bottle across my neck, letting the icy water droplets trail down my bare back.
nothing could be more calming than this.On her usual daily walk, she couldn’t help but notice him sitting there. He was just sitting, looking like nothing cared to him at that moment. At least that’s what she assumed when she saw him. “Hey!” She yelled as she ran up to him from her place on the road. “You know you’ll fry out here if you just stay there, right? Too much sun can be bad for you.”
She moved to stand in front of him, blocking the sun so that he didn’t burn too badly. She looked down at him and offered her second bottle of water to him, not seeing the glass he had. It looked like it had just come out of the fridge or the freezer. “The name’s Angel. You are?”
I stood up, trying to keep my eyes shielded from the sun by staying in the long shadow her lean body had cast on the ground, “I’m Hope Estheim.”
Thanking her with a nod of my head, I took the second bottle of water, uncapping it and pouring it down my body. The cool streams were most welcome on my practically steaming skin, every trail causing a shiver of sheer pleasure to run down my spine.
If I could have managed to have a boner with as hot as it was, I probably would have popped a big one, right there.
“So,” I took another swallow from my bottle of, what happened to be, Ifrit’s Firewhiskey, “What brings you creekside? I never see may people pass through here.”
[OPEN]
I wasn’t a pale guy, but I also wasn’t too tan. My skin always refused to color, so I was only a peachy-cream color. Yet, against my silver hair, I’m sure I was an oddity to the guy. He certainly stared at me like I was, but I did my best to offer a small smile.
The pencil fell again. I felt automatically compelled to pick it up like before, but this time when I handed it to him I decided it might be best to offer a bit of advice:
“Try not dropping the pencil so much,” I said playfully and smirked. I handed him the pencil again.
“What class? Well, what classes do you take?”
Try not dropping the pencil so much
I looked up at him, blushing in a way that was almost a painful blow to the ego. True, not dropping the pencil would make things easier, but I seemed to have butter fingers…….great.
Damn Hope, clumsy ass…
“I have so many it’s almost hard to keep track,” I laughed a little, pulling out my schedule, “but this paper says I have Geomance, white magic, projectiles, self defense, english, and economics.”
Folding it gently, I placed it back in the front of my binder. I leaned in closer to him with a slight smirk, barely whispering, “but honestly, I haven’t been to half of those classes in about a month and a half.”
“You haven’t been attending classes?” Scratch the whole “he looks more studious than me” thing.
I blinked at him in shock. I felt my mouth hanging open somewhat and my eyes widen without permission.
“A month… and a half?” I asked, my deep voice turning a little deeper as I struggled to speak. “How have you not failed? Or did you?”
“No, I haven’t failed,” I laughed to myself.
The look on his face was priceless, his jaw practically dragging the table. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that my being in the library early to do ‘mandatory assignments’ had thrown hos perception of me off a bit. Sure, I had been trying to get back on track with school, and I had been studying as much as I could, but I was no longer the bookworm that I used to be.
“I’m far from failing, actually,” I looked down at the table at my clasped hands, trying to think of the right answer to give him, “let’s just say that I have some great excuses.”
hope-in-promises replied to your post: hope-in-promises started following you
Hi! -smiles- I’m Hope Estheim. What’s your name?Agrias Oaks. -shakes hand- Nice to meet you.
She kissed me, just so you know. It was hot.
THAT’S NOT FAIR. I WANT KISSES RIGHT NOW.
FROM BOTH OF YOU.
[OPEN]
I watched as the little stick of wood rolls right off the desk and against my shoes. At first, I felt silly for staring- as if the pencil might bite me should I bend down to grab it. I did so anyway, bending at the knees and pinching the body with my thumb and finger. It lifted up into my palm easily enough and again I was standing straight on my feet. I placed the pencil on the desk first, and then acknowledged his awaiting hand with a firm grasp and shake of my own.
“I’m Riku Vanderwood. Am I interrupting?”
My answer came in the form of shuffling papers and a panic to organize them all. It was a little silly to see. I felt my brow quirk high into my forehead without full consent as I awaited a verbal answer.
“Ah, well, thank you. I will,” I said with a small shake in my voice. This kid seemed a lot more studious than me, and he was so nervous to boot… did I look scary or something? Never the less, I sat down at the chair and set my book on top of the desk. “Actually, I got a little lost… I was late for class anyway, so I decided to come in and study. Not much to do. What about you?”
“well,” Throwing the pencil back down onto the desk was probably a bad idea, seeing as it landed right back on the floor, “I have to write something in this journal everyday. It’s…kind of mandatory.”
I smiled over at him, studying his face. His skin was a little darker than at first glance, “sun kissed” if I could call it anything. The glow of it offset his aqua eyes, making them stand out even more as the morning sun spilled across his hair. The hint of a clavicle showed as he shifted his weight in the chair, trying to get comfortable.
Shaking my head, I tried to formulate words to break the silence I had created in my observations.
Damn Hope. Be a creepy bastard why don’tcha?“Soooo…” the lack of conversation caused a blush to lace across my cheeks; I wasn’t used to being speechless, but the writing assignment and unexpected company, in tandem with my clumsiness, had caught me off guard, “what uh, what class were you on the way to?”
I wasn’t a pale guy, but I also wasn’t too tan. My skin always refused to color, so I was only a peachy-cream color. Yet, against my silver hair, I’m sure I was an oddity to the guy. He certainly stared at me like I was, but I did my best to offer a small smile.
The pencil fell again. I felt automatically compelled to pick it up like before, but this time when I handed it to him I decided it might be best to offer a bit of advice:
“Try not dropping the pencil so much,” I said playfully and smirked. I handed him the pencil again.
“What class? Well, what classes do you take?”
Try not dropping the pencil so much
I looked up at him, blushing in a way that was almost a painful blow to the ego. True, not dropping the pencil would make things easier, but I seemed to have butter fingers…….great.
Damn Hope, clumsy ass…
“I have so many it’s almost hard to keep track,” I laughed a little, pulling out my schedule, “but this paper says I have Geomance, white magic, projectiles, self defense, english, and economics.”
Folding it gently, I placed it back in the front of my binder. I leaned in closer to him with a slight smirk, barely whispering, “but honestly, I haven’t been to half of those classes in about a month and a half.”
So…what’s this? [Aqua]
As I sat on the soggy riverbank, I could feel the eat of my pants dampening, becoming wetter and wetter the more time passed. This fact didn’t phase me, nope. As usual, I was lost in thought, wandering down a lane within my memory that was probably better left untraveled.
A sigh escaped my lips, “Hope, you’re a dumb person.”
The glass bottle was cold in my hand, the condensation dripping off the outside a by product of the cool liquid within battling the hot, damp air that tinged the 98 degree day. Even here, along the water, under trees whose moss hung so low, you could camp under it, the sun still burned your skin, hot and sweet.
The burn that was taking up residence on my pale frame would kill me later, but right now, all I cared about were my thoughts, bottle, and wet bottom.
After drawing a heavy swig from it, contents burning deeply in my stomach, I ran the cold bottle across my neck, letting the icy water droplets trail down my bare back.
nothing could be more calming than this.
[OPEN]
I wasn’t completely aware of my surroundings. I had no idea where my first class was supposed to be, and it was only after wandering lost for half an hour that I finally gave up.
It never looks good to miss the first day, but what choice do I have?
I decided immediately after giving up that I would at least use my time constructively. It was only right to work on school since it was school-time. Free rides and laziness meant losing power for the future- and I wanted the power to mold my future the way I wanted it.
I made it to the library. I knew where that was, since it wasn’t far from the dorms. I mistook the building for the Summoning Hall twice. Thanks to that bout of getting lost, I knew exactly where the library was and I recognized it even from a distance.
I walked into the library- intent on doing as much studying as I could. I had no clue what had been taught that day, of course, but I would simply have to improvise. Chapter one would be remembered before the next class was due for a visit… or I would at least attempt to have it memorized.
I at least hoped that by tomorrow I’d be able to keep up with the class.
The library was crowded, but per the rules… quiet. I was surprised. Even in the library, I imagined that in this sort of crowd there would at least be one person who speaks a little too loudly.
I wandered around the aisles for a fairly solitary place. I knew if I sat near someone, I would either be tempted to talk or they would be… and if I wanted to get studying done, distraction was a major “no”.
I finally came across what was like an office… It had a tall chair, a desk, and was completely hidden from the rest of the library. The surface had old books strewn across the top. In the wooden seat, a young boy with silver locks. I blinked at him.
Should I sit down? There’s another chair right across- well, more like a stool. Yet, there it is. He seems rather busy, though…
Running a hand through my hair, I sighed. Perhaps this journaling thing would be more difficult than I though, seeing as I had only managed to write:
Though my life has been filled with misfortune, the most upsetting of them all had to be
…that was it.
Hope, come on, this shouldn’t be hard.I dropped my pencil upon the desk, watching it bounce, almost in slow motion, onto the floor, rolling until it hit the sneakers of another student I hadn’t even heard walk up.
His shoes were black, perfectly polished muted black leather, leading up to crisp, clean, dark wash jeans, a black long sleeved t-shirt that pulled across his chest slightly. Silver locks fell to just below his shoulders, over inquisitive aqua eyes.
It took a moment for my mind to get over the initial shock of unannounced company; Moving past the awkward silence I had created, I smiled.
“Hello,” I held out my hand, “I’m Hope Estheim.”
Most of my books which had been scattered across the table, I began to move, trying to be polite-that or I was trying to stall the forthcoming writing that I knew was, sadly, inevitable.
“You’re more than welcome to join me if you have work, I knew how large the library is and how hard it is to find friendly nook-mates.”
I motioned to the stool across from me.I watched as the little stick of wood rolls right off the desk and against my shoes. At first, I felt silly for staring- as if the pencil might bite me should I bend down to grab it. I did so anyway, bending at the knees and pinching the body with my thumb and finger. It lifted up into my palm easily enough and again I was standing straight on my feet. I placed the pencil on the desk first, and then acknowledged his awaiting hand with a firm grasp and shake of my own.
“I’m Riku Vanderwood. Am I interrupting?”
My answer came in the form of shuffling papers and a panic to organize them all. It was a little silly to see. I felt my brow quirk high into my forehead without full consent as I awaited a verbal answer.
“Ah, well, thank you. I will,” I said with a small shake in my voice. This kid seemed a lot more studious than me, and he was so nervous to boot… did I look scary or something? Never the less, I sat down at the chair and set my book on top of the desk. “Actually, I got a little lost… I was late for class anyway, so I decided to come in and study. Not much to do. What about you?”
“well,” Throwing the pencil back down onto the desk was probably a bad idea, seeing as it landed right back on the floor, “I have to write something in this journal everyday. It’s…kind of mandatory.”
I smiled over at him, studying his face. His skin was a little darker than at first glance, “sun kissed” if I could call it anything. The glow of it offset his aqua eyes, making them stand out even more as the morning sun spilled across his hair. The hint of a clavicle showed as he shifted his weight in the chair, trying to get comfortable.
Shaking my head, I tried to formulate words to break the silence I had created in my observations.
Damn Hope. Be a creepy bastard why don’tcha?
“Soooo…” the lack of conversation caused a blush to lace across my cheeks; I wasn’t used to being speechless, but the writing assignment and unexpected company, in tandem with my clumsiness, had caught me off guard, “what uh, what class were you on the way to?”
About me
Hope Estheim. 17. Sophomore.
