![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
So cold, can't feel the fingers on my right hand.
Meanwhile, very happy :) I'm going to parties!!! I'm going to Lauren's and Melissa's birthday parties next week and Lea's house this Saturday :) which will be shibby fun. I've started reading the first Artemis Fowl book, and while it's no Harry Potter, it's certainly better than that His Dark Materials trilogy (the idea of 12 year olds in love scared me, and I was bored witless half the time.) It's got some pretty neat fantasy, woven in with real life fairly well, and the characters are flawed and fun.
Today I had a driving lesson, and then I went to uni and had a Film Studies lecture and an Asian Studies tute which, again, went on 30 minutes longer than it was supposed to. The tutor has suggested we go to a coffee place after to talk because they need the room after half an hour. Then I talked to Alanna, and then I came home. Where it was, and still is, cold. I watched The Kumars at No 42, which is really really funny. Donny Osmond was on it. It's a very odd talk show with the host, his parents and his somewhat horny grandmother (think a more amusing, Indian Grandma Klump.) Then I watched the Melbourne Comedy Festival, which was good. I suppose my day wasn't all that exciting, but it was one of those nice days where nothing really goes wrong and it's all very good.
Link of the day is Cool Archive (Free cliparts and fonts). It's got some neat stuff to use on your comp, I'm playing with the fonts in Photoshop.
Pics of the day are cute hobbits being cute. And in the second case, snarling hobbits. Rawr, baby. He's my monkey prince!!! (For non-LJ users I've also put in my new icon.) After the pictures there's part 2 of my new LotR fic "The Promise of Something More," check it out if you liked yesterday's first part.
The Promise of Something More
PART 2
We’d settled on a terrible action movie made some time in the early 90’s with some imminently forgettable lead, because who needed to think after a day as long as the one I’d had? Lij was lying on the floor on his back watching the screen upside-down, poking my shins with his toes. I batted him away.
He kicked me again.
I moved my legs.
He shuffled over. Kicked my shin.
I whacked his foot, hard.
He sat up, startled, and his head blocked my view of the screen, The shocked expression on his face made it look like two thirds of his face was eyes, like some anime character. I sighed.
“Sorry.”
”What’s up, Dominic?” Full name. He was either angry (if imitating Ian) or worried (if imitating Astin.) He sat beside me, hand on my arm. So, worried.
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
”Bullshit.”
”Bulltrue.”
”Ass.”
”Bitch.”
”Cunt.”
”Shithead.”
”You lonely?” And that, out of nowhere. I don’t think he meant it to be as sudden as it was, it just occurred to him and he said it. “Well?”
”Yeah,” I mumbled into my hands.
”What?”
”Yes, okay? I’m fucking lonely.” He ignored my harsh tone and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on my arm. I lifted my arm and his head hit the side of my chest; my hand rested lightly on his shoulder. I could feel his smile. “Sorry I’m so touchy. Just tired, I guess.”
”Can I move in?” Once again, a question out of the blue. I was startled; he took my sudden tension as a bad sign.
“I mean, I don’t have to, not if you don’t want me to, it’s just I live so close anyway, and I know you need privacy, but…”
”Privacy? After New Zealand?” I laughed. He looked hurt, petulant, yet pleading. “You can move in, if you want.”
”Really?”
”Really.”
”But, I mean, do you want?”
”I could handle it.”
”We wouldn’t be lonely.”
”We?”
”Sure. I need you too, you know.” Again with the honesty. I’d known the guy for two years now, you’d think I’d be used to it. He pushed off from me and lay on his stomach on the floor.
“I’ll bring my stuff over tomorrow,” he said contentedly, his voice sounding deeper and hollow from lying on the floor. I chucked at him. “What?”
”Do you know how odd you sound –umph- when you lie on the floor like this?” I asked, imitating his position on the springy carpet next to him. He giggled—giggled, and it came out low and rich, instead of his usual high-pitched cackle.
“Kinda like you?”
”I guess.”
”You sound lovely.” He’d picked up the oddest Briticisms on set, without ever quite developing the accent or the knack of context. I glanced at him sideways and noted that his gleaming teeth were about the only visible parts of the side of his face not reflecting the flickering light of the TV. I started to get up to turn the light on, but a hand on my arm stopped me.
”Stay with me a bit.”
”I was only going to turn on the light.”
”It’s better watching it in the dark.” His words said that anyway, but not his voice. Not his eyes. They said ‘Don’t leave me.’ I turned my gaze back to the movie, but I didn’t watch it. Instead, I recounted Elijah’s odd behaviour all night. Up and down, sudden bursts of thought. Not quite right. And how about me? Just like that I’d made the decision to let him live with me, in my house. Why? Was I acting weird too?
Then, halfway through a scene where the godawful blond actress was screaming again to be saved, and without any warning, he kissed me. Right on the side of my mouth. I froze, shocked, staring, my mouth in a contorted “O” of surprise. I could feel the blush rising off him. He stood up abruptly. I followed.
“I—I’m sorry. It just seemed—and you looked so good—“ He was staring down at his feet, not meeting my eyes. Then as suddenly as he asked if he could move in, as he’d kissed me, as he’d stood up, he was crying. Crying, and gone.
Asking the question we all want answers too: IsBo Duke Papa Kent's relationship with cows strictly professional??
Green Queen
Meanwhile, very happy :) I'm going to parties!!! I'm going to Lauren's and Melissa's birthday parties next week and Lea's house this Saturday :) which will be shibby fun. I've started reading the first Artemis Fowl book, and while it's no Harry Potter, it's certainly better than that His Dark Materials trilogy (the idea of 12 year olds in love scared me, and I was bored witless half the time.) It's got some pretty neat fantasy, woven in with real life fairly well, and the characters are flawed and fun.
Today I had a driving lesson, and then I went to uni and had a Film Studies lecture and an Asian Studies tute which, again, went on 30 minutes longer than it was supposed to. The tutor has suggested we go to a coffee place after to talk because they need the room after half an hour. Then I talked to Alanna, and then I came home. Where it was, and still is, cold. I watched The Kumars at No 42, which is really really funny. Donny Osmond was on it. It's a very odd talk show with the host, his parents and his somewhat horny grandmother (think a more amusing, Indian Grandma Klump.) Then I watched the Melbourne Comedy Festival, which was good. I suppose my day wasn't all that exciting, but it was one of those nice days where nothing really goes wrong and it's all very good.
Link of the day is Cool Archive (Free cliparts and fonts). It's got some neat stuff to use on your comp, I'm playing with the fonts in Photoshop.
Pics of the day are cute hobbits being cute. And in the second case, snarling hobbits. Rawr, baby. He's my monkey prince!!! (For non-LJ users I've also put in my new icon.) After the pictures there's part 2 of my new LotR fic "The Promise of Something More," check it out if you liked yesterday's first part.
The Promise of Something More
PART 2
We’d settled on a terrible action movie made some time in the early 90’s with some imminently forgettable lead, because who needed to think after a day as long as the one I’d had? Lij was lying on the floor on his back watching the screen upside-down, poking my shins with his toes. I batted him away.
He kicked me again.
I moved my legs.
He shuffled over. Kicked my shin.
I whacked his foot, hard.
He sat up, startled, and his head blocked my view of the screen, The shocked expression on his face made it look like two thirds of his face was eyes, like some anime character. I sighed.
“Sorry.”
”What’s up, Dominic?” Full name. He was either angry (if imitating Ian) or worried (if imitating Astin.) He sat beside me, hand on my arm. So, worried.
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
”Bullshit.”
”Bulltrue.”
”Ass.”
”Bitch.”
”Cunt.”
”Shithead.”
”You lonely?” And that, out of nowhere. I don’t think he meant it to be as sudden as it was, it just occurred to him and he said it. “Well?”
”Yeah,” I mumbled into my hands.
”What?”
”Yes, okay? I’m fucking lonely.” He ignored my harsh tone and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on my arm. I lifted my arm and his head hit the side of my chest; my hand rested lightly on his shoulder. I could feel his smile. “Sorry I’m so touchy. Just tired, I guess.”
”Can I move in?” Once again, a question out of the blue. I was startled; he took my sudden tension as a bad sign.
“I mean, I don’t have to, not if you don’t want me to, it’s just I live so close anyway, and I know you need privacy, but…”
”Privacy? After New Zealand?” I laughed. He looked hurt, petulant, yet pleading. “You can move in, if you want.”
”Really?”
”Really.”
”But, I mean, do you want?”
”I could handle it.”
”We wouldn’t be lonely.”
”We?”
”Sure. I need you too, you know.” Again with the honesty. I’d known the guy for two years now, you’d think I’d be used to it. He pushed off from me and lay on his stomach on the floor.
“I’ll bring my stuff over tomorrow,” he said contentedly, his voice sounding deeper and hollow from lying on the floor. I chucked at him. “What?”
”Do you know how odd you sound –umph- when you lie on the floor like this?” I asked, imitating his position on the springy carpet next to him. He giggled—giggled, and it came out low and rich, instead of his usual high-pitched cackle.
“Kinda like you?”
”I guess.”
”You sound lovely.” He’d picked up the oddest Briticisms on set, without ever quite developing the accent or the knack of context. I glanced at him sideways and noted that his gleaming teeth were about the only visible parts of the side of his face not reflecting the flickering light of the TV. I started to get up to turn the light on, but a hand on my arm stopped me.
”Stay with me a bit.”
”I was only going to turn on the light.”
”It’s better watching it in the dark.” His words said that anyway, but not his voice. Not his eyes. They said ‘Don’t leave me.’ I turned my gaze back to the movie, but I didn’t watch it. Instead, I recounted Elijah’s odd behaviour all night. Up and down, sudden bursts of thought. Not quite right. And how about me? Just like that I’d made the decision to let him live with me, in my house. Why? Was I acting weird too?
Then, halfway through a scene where the godawful blond actress was screaming again to be saved, and without any warning, he kissed me. Right on the side of my mouth. I froze, shocked, staring, my mouth in a contorted “O” of surprise. I could feel the blush rising off him. He stood up abruptly. I followed.
“I—I’m sorry. It just seemed—and you looked so good—“ He was staring down at his feet, not meeting my eyes. Then as suddenly as he asked if he could move in, as he’d kissed me, as he’d stood up, he was crying. Crying, and gone.
Asking the question we all want answers too: Is
Green Queen
