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lješnjak



Posts : 7856
Join date : 2013-10-06
Age : 17
Location : Mordor

PostSubject: Random Stories   Sat Apr 19, 2014 7:45 am

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lješnjak



Posts : 7856
Join date : 2013-10-06
Age : 17
Location : Mordor

PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sat Apr 19, 2014 7:52 am

Andrew, A Flashback
A smile tugged at my lips as I looked down towards my little sisters, splashing around in the swimming pool. Maria and Leah, they were nine now, and I was edging towards being seventeen. They were identical, with dark brown hair and striking blue eyes, however Maria's hair was a lot straighter than Leah's, whose hair was so curly it was impossible to tame. But she didn't mind.
"Drew" Maria said, looking up at me,
"Why don't you come in the pool?" Leah continued Maria's sentence. They do that often, I swear it's like they're telepathic and it's freaking me out.
"Way too cold, I have no idea how you two can stand it" I said, still smiling down at them. They 'awh'ed, and continued to push the rubber ducky around. They shared a sudden glance and grinned at each other.
"Fine, if you don't join us in the pool..." Leah started, "Then the pool will join you" Maria finished, filling her bucket with water.
"That's not fair" I said, standing up, to run away, across the lawn of my home in America. We moved here a few years ago, it's completely different to Australia, and I have to admit, I much prefer Australia.
"It's completely fair" Leah said, also filling a bucket with water. I started to run, but slowly, so they could catch me. They squealed and chased after me, spilling the water in their buckets all over the lawn. I laughed as Maria grabbed onto my t-shirt's base,
"Gotcha!" She shouted, still clinging onto me as I ran,
"Noo! Let goo!" I complained. They both continued laughing as Leah managed to trip me and cause me to fall to the floor.
I landed with an 'Oof', and rolled onto my back so I could see them, and before I could begin to crawl away, Leah sat on my chest. She grinned down at me,
"This is cheating!" I continued complaining. "No it's not" Maria said, as she appeared above my head, making her appear upside down. She was holding a bucket, which I guessed was filled with water, and she was grinning mischievously down at me.
"This is brother abuse" I noticed, but she ignored me. "3 2 1" She whispered before tipping the bucket over my head, and I was correct, the bucket was filled with water.
"You little-" I started, before placing my hands under Leah's arms to pick her up, stood up, then held her in one arm. I half carried, half dragged Leah over to the pool before throwing her in.
After running up behind her, I was able to scoop Maria off the ground with my arm, while she squirmed around.
"Gotcha" I grinned, I walked over to the pool.
"Payback" I said, before jumping into the pool, still holding Maria, I stayed under the water for a second before resurfacing.
"Ha! I win!" I shouted, "No you don't" Maria said, shaking her head at me.
"Why ever not?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, looking at her.
"Because we always win!" Leah added with a small squeal and leapt towards me in the water, causing a splash, that hit me in the face.
"Oh no you didn't!" I shouted and swam towards them, chasing after the two of them again.
~~~
The scene fades into later that evening, when the twins are in their beds, with myself sat in between them.
"Please sing for us, Drew" Leah asked, "Please Drew" Maria added, sitting up in her bed.
"You two will be the death of me" I noticed, "Fine, but you must promise to go to sleep after"  The twins nodded, so I found the small pink guitar they had, rested it on my knee before playing the only song I knew how to. Carolyn by Black Veil Brides.
~~~
I sat on a damp doorstep in New York, leant against the terraced house's door frame. I quietly sang Carolyn to myself, I had been walking for four days, all the way from Pittsford. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I want to be as far from my family, or more parents, as physically possible. I knew I would have to find a job, and I knew this was for the best, for all of us. But I couldn't help but feel terrified. I had no idea where I was. All I wanted is for this all to be over. I wished I hadn't told my parents nor my friends. I just wish this wasn't me. I wish I could be someone else.
That is impossible, I would never be able to change, so I have to continue looking forwards, hoping that one day I will be able to accept who I am, or more what I am. I want to be able to find the right guy, and settle down, a job as a florist and the guy and I would be the same, we would be able to accept each other for who we are, as we would be one. No worries about parents, no worries of money, no worries of anything. Just happiness. I know this won't happen. Things like that never happen to people like me. People like me are too different and people won't accept us for who we are.  
I pulled the bag further onto my shoulder and continued walking, to where? Tomorrow. Tomorrow, where anything is possible. Tomorrow, where I will be able to follow all my dreams.

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lješnjak



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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sun May 18, 2014 5:39 pm

Lilypads and Ducklings

Zachariah groaned loudly and rested his head against the wall,
"Are you done yet?" He complained, shifting the weight on his shoulders.
"Hang on, jeez" The weight replied, carefully placing the screw in the hole and using the screwdriver to tighten it in the little hole.
"You're heavy" Zach continued complaining. Ellie sighed and finished the screw. "Why do we need these shelves anyway?"
"Because" Ellie dragged the word, "You have a shit-ton of books and we have no where to put them." She tapped his side with her foot and he lowered her to the ground.
"No I don't"
"Do" She pointed to the large pile  of books in the corner of the room. Zach turned his head to the place Ellie was pointing to.
"Ugh" He groaned again as Ellie grinned at him. "Shut up"
"What I didn't say-"
"Shut it" Zach shook his head, crossing his arms, "You're getting heavy" He observed.
"And they say romance is dead" Ellie sighed again, walking over to the books to start placing them on the new shelves.  Zach walked over to her and helped carry some books.
"Seriously, though. Are you okay?" He asked, walking with a handful of books to the shelves.
"I'm fine" Ellie dead-panned and they continued the worked in silence, lost in their own thoughts, the only noise being that of books being moved around.  Zach often glanced over to Ellie, and Ellie was aware of this, so kept her head low, her hair covering her face.
"I have a feeling there is something you're not telling me" Zach noticed, once they had finished. He placed his arm over the door so Ellie couldn't leave. She lifted her head, and Zach reached forward and tucked the fringe behind her ear.
"I said I'm fine" She replied sharply, and, as if to prove the point, kissed his cheek. "Do you want Chinese for tea?" She asked, bobbing below his arm and walking out of the room, heading off to find a phone. Zach sighed and followed behind her,
"How about pizza? We haven't had that in a while" He suggested, walking up behind her where she stood next to the island in the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"Hm?" Ellie asked, leaning her head against his gently.
"You're acting weird, why?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I am considering whether or not to teach you to drive" Ellie replied, causing Zach to groan loudly,
"No" He said, kissing her neck before letting go of her. Ellie giggled lightly and phoned the pizza place, ordering the pizzas. Zach walked to the other side of the kitchen,
"What would you like to drink?" He asked, scanning the wine rack for something that would go well with the pizza.
"Just juice please" Ellie said, placing the phone away and walking to the living room to turn on the t.v.. Odd. She mostly always has wine with a meal, and if she doesn't it's beer. Zach shrugged to himself and made them both a glass of juice before carrying the glasses into the living room. A while later, the sound of the doorbell rang out and Ellie walked to the door. She greeted the pizza-guy before giving him enough money to pay for the pizza. She carried the pizza through to Zach who divided the pizza equally between the two plates then settled down on the sofa, with Ellie curling up next to him. They ate the pizza in silence, watching some random thing that was on t.v..

"You've been very quiet this evening. Did I offend you?" Zach asked, slipping into the bed beside Ellie, who shook her head.
"No" She said, quietly, then cuddled up to Zach, in the foetal position. Zach watched her, kissing her forehead.
"I'm scared, Zach" Ellie whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, nuzzling into his side.
"What? Why the hell are you scared?" Zach asked, not moving her gaze from her. He lowered so they were face-to-face and he studied hers carefully. When she didn't reply, Zach repeated "Why?" She didn't open her eyes, nor did she move. Zach continued watching her, and with every second she was silent, he became more and more worried.
"Ellie?" He softly said, "Ellie?" He repeated, before noticing she had fallen asleep. He sighed, and made a mental note to ask her about this in the morning.
"Night, Ells"

Ellie threw the quilt off herself and scampered into the bathroom. Morning sickness. Scared, she said. Terrified is more likely. What if it was the same as before? She couldn't fail Zach like that again. She leaned back from the basin and sat on the floor, staring at the floor.
"Ells?" Zach said, knocking on the door gently before pushing the door open, crouching down to her side. "What's wrong?" Ellie shook her head, not looking at him,
"Nothing, just a little under the weather" She lied, standing up and climbing back into the bed.
"Clearly, something is wrong. I'm not stupid, Ellie" Zach said, moving to stand at the foot of the bed and looking at her. Ellie sighed and pulled the quilt tighter around herself, hiding all but her eyes which were fixed on a spot behind Zach.
"Ellie." Zach said, "Tell me, please"
"How long ago was our wedding night, Zach?" Ellie asked, not moving from her hiding place, Zach stared at her in confusion,
"About four months, why?"
"'By 16 weeks its face is becoming more human in appearance, although the chin is small and the mouth is quite wide. During this time the bump will start to become visible, if it hasn't already, and the rapid growth will continue for another two weeks.'" Ellie quoted, her voice slightly muffled. Zach continued staring at her,
"What?" He said, trying to figure out what she said, when suddenly it hit him, "Your pregnant?"

 "C'mon Zach! I could lift that and I am pregnant" Ellie commented, watching Zach carrying a cot up the stairs.
"Then why the fuck don't you do it?" Zach growled, dragging the cot clumsily up the stairs as Ellie watched, highly amused, from the top of the stairs.
"Because, aforementioned, I am pregnant" Zach groaned and after many curses, managed to put the cot at the top of the stairs.
"You owe me" He grumbled, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. Ellie smiled, walking around the cot to reach him. She kissed him gently before stepping back,
"Better?"
"Nuhuh" Zach shook his head and pulled her in for another kiss. As he tried to wrap his arms around her waist, he noticed a problem.
"Ellie.." He said, "That's in the way" He noticed, poking her enlarging stomach. Ellie laughed slightly and glanced down,
"So it is"
"How do we get rid of it?" He asked, still staring at Ellie's stomach.
"There is still a month left of waiting"
"Is there a way of speeding it up?"
"No, we have to wait"
"Jasmine oils...?"
"No, Zach. We have to wait" Zach groaned, and moved away from Ellie to continue dragging the cot into the new bedroom. The whole room was painted a duck egg blue, and was already filled with little toys for the little one. After many complaints, Zach finally got the cot into the room, and sat on the floor next to it.
"Too tired for this shit" He said, as Ellie sat down beside him, with a small amount of difficulty. She leant against him, and Zach kissed her cheek.

{Jake, one week}
A loud scream filled the house, a louder "Ellie!" could be heard over it. Ellie sighed, opened her eyes and lowered her sunglasses so she could look towards the door which had been opened. Zach held the week old child an arm's length away from him.
"Ellie" He repeated, "Oh my god! What is it doing? Why is it doing that?!" He asked, moving the child side-to-side as if looking for an off switch.
"Zach! Be careful" Ellie stood quickly and removed the child from his grip, she made gently hushing noises, holding him against her chest.
"It smells too"
"He must've got that off you" Ellie mumbled, still hushing the child. She carried the still screaming child into the house and beckoned Zach to follow.
"What?"
"Nothing!"
"Idiot" Zach shook his head, but followed behind her, Ellie sighed.
"Here, this is what you do" Ellie said, and showed him how to change the nappy.
"That's asinine" Zach commented, crossing his arms.
"What?"
"Idiot" This received another sigh from Ellie, who had finished sorting out the child. She picked him up again,
"C'mon, let's put him to bed" She said, walking to the small bedroom. She placed the child down in the cot, and looked at Zach.
"Sing"
"What?"
"You heard me, sing, your voice is more soothing"
"But why would I sing for it?"
" 'It' is your son, Zach. Sing"
"But-" Ellie glared at him and Zach sighed.
"Fine" Zach looked at his child in the cot and began singing quietly to him, as Ellie left the room. Zach continued staring at the child, long after the song had finished and the child was fast asleep. He smiled lightly and leant down, kissing his forehead gently.

{Naming Jake, one week + one day}
Ellie rested her head on Zach's chest, fast asleep, while he laid with his arm wrapped around her, asleep also. However, the peace of the moment was soon disturbed by the distorted sound of a cry coming from the baby monitor. Ellie rolled off Zach, and cuddled into the pillow, trying to ignore the sound.
"Ellie" Zach poked her shoulder, "Ellie" He repeated, but received no response. He sighed and got up, walking to the child's bedroom.
"What's wrong with you?" He asked, looking into the cot. "Why won't you be quiet?" He reached into the cot, and picking up the child. He tried hushing the child, but he kept crying, so Zach carried the child back into his and Ellie's room, Ellie was awake now, looking towards the door.
"Can we put it back? It causes so many problems" Zach complained, "First it stopped me from kissing you, and now he won't let me sleep" Ellie sat up, held out her arms and Zach placed the crying child in her arms. She hushed him quietly, as Zach sat down next to Ellie, watching her carefully.
"Jake" Ellie said, rocking the child gently.
"What? I'm Zach, not Jake"
"No, it's his name"
"Jake?" Zach questioned and Ellie nodded, he smiled at kissed the side of her head. "Little duckling" He added, placing an arm around her. Jake had now fallen silent, and was cooing up his parents.
"He has your eyes" Ellie smiled, running a thumb over Jake's cheek. Zach looked at Jake and shook his head,
"He doesn't. He has his own eyes" Zach noticed, Ellie looked at Zach,
"He has your eye colour" She corrected, he shook his head again,
"No he doesn't." He said, looking back up to Ellie, he leant towards her and kissed her gently. "He needs a middle-name" Zach noticed, now looking down at Jake, and moved so Ellie was leant against him..
"What do you suggest?" She replied, placing Jake into his arms. Zach looked at Jake and smiled.
"Douglass" He simply said,
"My maiden name?" Ellie asked confused, Zach nodded
"Yes, you said he has my eye colour, even though that isn't true, he can have your name"
"Jake Douglass Hewitt?" Ellie said, looking down at the child, who, as if he knew he was being mentioned cooed up at his parents again. Zach nodded, and kissed Jake's head.

{Jake, two months}
"Stop calling me dad around him" Zach complained, "My name isn't dad" He continued, holding a two month old Jake as Ellie walked around the kitchen making some formula for him.
"We don't want him calling you Zach do we?" She asked, passing Zach the bottle. He sat down on the sofa with the bottle in his hand.
"But that's my name." He noticed, gently placing the bottle next to his mouth and Jake guzzled it happily, placing his hand on the bottle, in case Zach was planning to take the bottle away from him.
"He's your son, so he has to call you 'dad' or 'papa' if you prefer" Ellie shrugged, placing a bib around Jake's neck because he had started to dribble. She sat down beside them both, watching Zach very carefully.
"Don't you trust me?" He asked, slightly offended.
"Of course I do" Ellie said, running a hand over Jake's head where his dark curls were starting to thicken and become more curly.  
After Jake had finished eating, Ellie tidied up as Zach stared at Jake for a second, before cracking into a full-sized grin. He kissed his forehead before walking over to the bookshelf and picking out a book. He returned to the sofa, with Jake in one hand and the book in the other.
"Right, duckling, this is how you make Trinitrotoluene. Also known as TNT. It's not difficult." He said, propping Jake up and holding the book open so Jake could see the pages.
"So we need to take two beakers.  In the first we must prepare a solution of seventy-six percent sulphuric acid, twenty-three percent nitric acid and one percent water. In the other beaker, we prepare another solution of fifty-seven percent nitric acid  and forty-three percent sulphuric acid" Zach started explaining.
"Zach what the hell are you reading?" Ellie asked, looking up from the kitchen into the living room.
"Chemistry, you wouldn't understand"
"If I don't neither will Jake" Ellie said, shaking her head.
"But he's more intelligent than you because he has my genes" Zach shrugged. "Next, Ten grams of the first solutions are poured into an empty beaker and placed in an ice bath." Zach continued, ignoring Ellie. Ellie sighed, walked into the living room and took the book off of Zach, and both Zach and Jake looked up at her with unimpressed expressions on their faces, mirroring each other almost perfectly.
"Oh God there are two of you now. It was insufferable with just one" Ellie sighed and walked out of the living room, after giving Zach his book back.

{Jake, three months}
"Ellie? Where are you going?" Zach asked, as Ellie dressed Jake in a big fluffy coat.
"Out"
"But it is cold"  Zach complained, watching her place Jake in the pram. "You'll both get a cold"
"We'll be fine" Ellie replied and swiftly walked over to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. "We're just going to feed the ducklings"
"But I fed him not long ago" He gestured to the mess he had left in the kitchen after feeding Jake.
"Not that duckling" Ellie shook her head.
"He'll find this positively boring"
"Bye, Zach" With that, Ellie opened the door of the house and walked outside with the pram, both Drew and the husky puppy, named Louise on leads walking beside the pram. Zach closed the door behind her and Ellie pushed the pram to the park, Jake making pleased babbling noises, like he was narrating everything that passed, but only himself and the stuffed duck he was holding understood what he was saying. Ellie smiled lightly to herself and when they arrived at the pond she got the slightly stale bread, gave Jake a little to throw for them and threw some herself. But instead of giving the bread to the ducks, Jake started chewing on the bread, and Ellie shook her head,
"Jake that is for the ducks" She said, crouching beside him to remove the bread from his mouth. Jake scrunched up his face in an annoyed way, Ellie kissed his cheek and starting throwing the ducks the bread. By the time all the bread was gone, Jake was sock on, clinging loosely onto the duck toy. Ellie pushed the pram back to the house, to see Zach sat on the sofa, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for their return. Ellie smiled and closed the door, starting to delicately remove the coat off of Jake.
"You're home" Zach said, walking over to them.
"Mhm" Ellie replied, focused on what she was doing. Zach looked down to Ellie and smiled lightly, picking up the sleeping Jake. He carried him upstairs, placing him in his cot before returning to Ellie. Ellie sat on the sofa, and Zach sat down next to her,
"Did he enjoy himself?" He asked, and she nodded
"He tried to eat the bread himself though" She noticed, smiling lightly and Zach chuckled. She cuddled into his side, and kissed him lightly.

{Jake, four months}
"Qwack!" Jake screamed, banging his hands against the high-chair table.  Ellie glanced over to him, confused. "Qwack!" Jake screamed again.
"Zach" Ellie said, with a small gape at Jake. "Zach!" She called louder, walking over to Jake grinning. Jake looked up to his mother, with what seemed to be a smug smile.
"Qwack" He repeated as Zach stumbled into the kitchen.
"What?" He grumbled, glancing between Ellie and Jake, "What's wrong?"  Ellie continued grinning at Jake, who now looked over to his dad.
"Qwack"  Jake said once again, and Zach shook his head
"You're saying it wrong. Quack. I told you this yesterday" He said, "I swear he is the tiny embodiment of you. Idiots" He shook his head and started to walk out of the room. "Better than the gibberish you spoke before. I never knew anyone with a worse vocabulary than Ellie until I met you" He said, looking at Jake.
"Zach" Ellie said, and he turned to look at her, "That's his first word" She said, still smiling.
"No it's not. 'Quack' isn't a word, Ellie" Zach rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. Ellie sighed lightly and lifted Jake from the high-chair where he was still shouting 'Qwack' at the top of his lungs.

{Jake, four months + one week}
"No, Jake, Quack isn't part of the song." Zach complained, "C, Jay" He said, reaching over to move the position of his son's hands. "You know the first line of the song"
"Babamamabamaaaaa" Jake half sang-half squealed, strumming enthusiastically on the little guitar Ellie had bought.
"No, no" Zach shook his head, he strummed on his own guitar showing Jake how to. "You need to change chord on 'secret'" He changed his hand position and played the next chord, Am. Jake attempted to do as he said but couldn't move his hand fast enough to be in time with Zach.
"That song might be a bit hard for him, Zach" Ellie noticed, looking over at them from behind the newspaper she was reading.
"No it's not" He replied shaking his head,
"He's only one" Ellie said, lifting the newspaper again, "Try '100 Suns'"
"No" Zach replied stubbornly, "'You're Beautiful'"
"Thank you"
"I meant the song" Zach grumbled, strumming the G again. "G Jake." Jake moved his hands and echoed the position in which Zach's hands were. He beamed with pride as Jake strummed the note perfectly,
"And again" Jake strummed the note again, "Okay, sing"
"Damamamaaa" Jake sang, in the same half singing-half squealing voice.

{Jake, five months}
"Your not pregnant again are you? You're still really heavy" Zach complained as Ellie sat on his shoulders again, Jake was on the floor playing with some building blocks, Ollie watching him intently, in the shade out of the sun.
"I don't think so" Ellie replied, hammering a nail into the block of wood that would become part of the ladder they were making.
"If you hit me with that you're fucking dead meat" Zach grumbled and Ellie glanced up at the tree, ignoring him, she knew this would take a long time to build, and the tree Zach had chosen made it slightly awkward, but he really wanted to build a tree house, so that's what they'd do.
"Okay, fat-ass, get off!" Zach said, making Ellie fall off his shoulders, but catching her arms before she fell.
"You're a bastard" She noticed but was smiling. "Don't you think we should get some work done?" She added, walking over to where they had a pile of wood planks, which hopefully will become a tree house in the near future. The house had already got the bottom structure, the floor, so all they needed to do was build the actual house. Ellie picked up one of the planks and half-dragged, half-carried the plank of wood.
"Weakling" Was Zach's comment as he picked up the other end of the plank and helped her carry it to the tree. With a small amount of difficulty, they managed to get the wood onto the flooring, and Ellie climbed the new ladder to join it, Zach close behind her.
"So where is this going?" Ellie asked, looking at the block of wood, Zach shrugged
"How am I supposed to know?"
"You're the smart-arse"
"So?"
"Sooo, you should know" Ellie concluded, sitting on the floor cross legged looking at the wood. Zach sat beside her, placing an arm around her and Ellie rested her head against him.
"Jake, no, don't eat that" Zach said, detaching himself from Ellie and clambered over to Jake, tugging the block from his mouth. Jake looked up at him grumpily as Zach picked him off the ground,
"Quack" He said, reaching for the block still in Zach's hand.
"No, Jay"   Zach climbed back up to the ladder and sat beside Ellie, with Jake still scowling.
"Is daddy being a bully?" Ellie asked him, brushing a dark curl from his face. Jake babbled, as if telling Ellie everything that Zach had done wrong.
"He says I am the perfect Dad and you're the bully" Zach translated, which received more grumpy babbling from Jake. Ellie laughed slightly,
"He disagrees" She said, and took him out of Zach's hands when Jake's arms extended towards her.
"Quack, park" Jake replied,
"You take him to the park too often" Zach noticed, looking down at Jake with a smile.
"Park park park park"
"He clearly likes it" Ellie noticed, "Do you want to go to the park?" She asked, receiving 'park park quack park' in response. "I'll take that as a yes" She said, "Coming?" She asked Zach who shook his head.
"Work" And Ellie nodded, carrying Jake down the ladder.

{Jake, thirteen months | Lily, one day}
"How the hell did this happen?" Zach complained loudly, staring at the newborn in Ellie's hands.
"When a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, like us-"
"I know that shit, but how?"
"I was going to explain-" Zach groaned, but took the tiny little girl out of Ellie's hands.
"She's smaller than Jay was" He noticed,
"She's slightly premature" Ellie replied, and looked over to Jake at the other side of the room. He had now learnt the total of seven words; quack, park, dada, mama, duck, yuck, no. He was currently sat on the floor, fiddling with Louise's fur. Ellie walked over to him and picked him up,
"Come meet your sister." She said, showing Jake the sleeping child in Zach's hands, who Zach was smiling down at. After Jake lost interest in his new sister he walked slowly back over to the building blocks.
"Your turn to choose a name" Ellie noticed, looking at Zach.
"Really?" He asked, slightly shocked.
"Mhm" Zach paused, thinking, looking down at his daughter.
"Lily" He decided, smiling and Ellie nodded,
"Lily, I like it, it suits her" She said, looking at them both with a smile.

{Jake, eighteen months | Lily, five months}
Ellie laid back on the blanket, relaxing in the sunlight on the beach.
"I'm boored" Zach's voice said for the fifth time beside her
"Go entertain the kids" Ellie said, Zach grumbled and stood up. He walked over to them and picked up the lone bucket that neither of them were playing with.  After a short while, Ellie had fallen asleep.
"Wait, I have an idea" He said, grinning at the kids. He walked over to the sea and scooped up a bucket of water. He signalled to Jake to follow him, and picked Lily up in the arm that wasn't carrying the water. He held the bucket just above Ellie,
"Three two one" He tipped the bucket, causing water to completely drench Ellie.
"Holy shit!" Ellie exclaimed as Zach held Lily tighter and ran off, laughing. "Zachariah Hewitt!" She shouted and stood up to chase him, Zach quickly placed Lily on the floor away from the sea and continued running as Ellie started to catch up to him. He ran directly into the sea, Ellie on his tail. She soon caught up to him, and tackled into him, causing them both to fall face first into the waist deep water.
"You're a bastard, Mr. Hewitt" Ellie noticed, and gave him a quick, and salty, kiss before heading back over to the kids.


{Quick little thing - Jake, ten years | Lily, nine years}
"No, you idiot! It needs more yeast!" Jake said, adding more yeast to the container. Lily shook her head,
"No Jake" She complained, but she couldn't do anything about the added yeast. Jake next got the water that was over a hundred and twenty degrees.
"Be careful" Ellie warned from her chair in the corner of the room. "Don't do what your father does" She said,
"What did I do?" Zach asked, poking his head around the door frame.
"Nothing" She smiled, then Zach spotted the experiment,
"Oh what are you guys making?"
"An explosion!" Lily exclaimed excitedly. Zach gazed at the ingredients and shook his head.
"That will make hardly an explosion" He noticed, and walked over to them. He found some potassium iodide.
"This'll be better." Zach got a large test tube, placed the hydrogen peroxide and food colouring in it, added soap them smiled.
"Ready?" He asked, the kids nodded staring at him.
He added the iodide then backed away, watching the mixture fizz up and over flow onto the table.
"Your cleaning that up" Ellie noticed, from behind her newspaper.
"See, that's better than some shitty volcano" He ignored Ellie and walked out of the room. x

{4380 words, 24336 characters [w/ spaces]}
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Location : hell

PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Wed May 21, 2014 10:51 pm

If loving you was wrong, I don't ever want to be right

She was in danger as long as I was alive. Well, we dealed with that problem.

Before I even start telling the story of how I freed her, let me tell you a few things.
She's an ocean, taking the air out of your lungs and replacing it with water. You can still breathe, but you're not breathing oxygen, you're breathing her. She is in every fibre of your being.
She is a hurricane, spiraling in your insides, tossing and turning until she's sure she's noticed. When she dissapears, she leaves an aftertaste.
She is a lightning storm, always present, but sometimes striking just to make sure she's still noticed.
She is, most of all, a person. Her name is Amelia.

I was in the HQ before her so it was only right to leave before her as well.

It happened on a mission.

I jumped in front of a bullet for her. And it felt right, dying to make sure your loved ones survive. A fair exchange, if you ask me. After I felt the bullet in my stomach, I knew it was too late. I closed my eyes, my hearing being the most reliable source of information. There was an another bang, which meant the shooter was taken care of. There was also a voice which kept screaming my name. It was her. I felt her hands trying to find the entry wound, and when dhe did, she knew, too. No miracles for me. I guess I already had my fair share of miracles.

I felt her light, but wet touch trave across my face. Some of the wetness reached my nose and I noticed it was blood. How ironic. I was a spy my whole life, and blood only scared me now. I was afraid of dying, but it didn't hurt.

What hurt were Amelia's sobs.

They came like an ocean, trembled like a hurricane, struck like a storm.

I opened my eyes one last time, for her.

She started to say something, but I dropped my weak hand on top of hers, which was shivering."I told you I would keep you safe."

Black.

There are a lot of people who don't wish to die. I'm not one of those. Death will come, sooner or later. It came sooner for me, but it was expected. My only regret is that I couldn't keep her safe anymore.

She joined me three years later.

"Welcome home."

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Thu May 22, 2014 8:25 pm

You’ve slipped under my skin, invaded my blood and seized my heart
All things come in three forms. Solid, liquid, gas.

Having a crush is gas.
It makes you feel dizzy, it makes you float. Having a crush changes nothing in your body, but it adds just a dash of helium to shake things up a bit.

Trust is solid.
It is a big cube made of rock. Heavy, but managable. Breaking the trust of someone who isn't so close to you is pressing that rock cube with a weight which separates the cube easily with huge amount of pressure. Breaking the trust of somebody you love, however, is trying to destroy the rock cube with a butter knife.

Love, on the other hand, is liquid.
It leaks down your spine, drips through your veins, and when the veins fill up, the liquid breaks them and oozes through yor whole body, graduatelly filling up from your toes to your brain. Ah, but when it reaches your brain, you're in it too deep. Love fills your brain, occupies your thoughts, toys with your emotions. Suddenly, you're hooked. You have to do everythong in your power to keep the love in your body, your brain, but it's dripping out through your palms. You don't have enough love in yoir body so you need to find somebody who will share their love with you. I found my person, that's why we're here today. I won't tell you anything aboit her you don't already know.

She's the light of my life.

She is my savior.

She is my best support but my worst judge.

She is my world.

That's all you need to know.

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Fri May 23, 2014 4:11 pm

to stop loving you is like me trying to stop a moving train
The gunshot rang out around the room, the bullet heading straight towards me, or so I thought. Something had stopped it and had fallen to the floor with a thump.
"Ben?"  The words left my mouth, but I wasn't aware that I was the one who had said them, all my attention was on Benedict. I repeated his name, I never wanted to stop saying it. Even though it was only eight letters, its definition had more meaning than any other word in all the languages of the world. Alacrity, euphoria and sublime are just a few of the words Benedict is a synonym to. Benedict. I kept repeating his name over and over, subconsciously. Benedict. I ignored everything that was going in around me, even the crump of a body as it hit the cold concreted ground, the shooter. I fumbled with Benedict's shirt, ripping it carelessly to look at the bullet wound. I placed my hands over his stomach applying pressure, trying to stop the bleeding. If the bullet hadn't hit an essential organ, the blood loss would kill him. But I knew I was fighting a losing battle. Tears streamed down my face. Benedict. I repeated his name again. Benedict. I didn't want the word to dry in my mouth. But each time I said it, it became more and more painful. Benedict. Bene-. My throat ceased half way through the word. I couldn't breath. I couldn't speak. I couldn't do anything. I felt like I was floating in a void, just myself clinging uselessly on to Benedict. I stared down towards him, and to my shock his eyes fluttered open. His eyes. His amazing, captivating blue eyes. The ones I could get lost in, the ones I wanted to get lost in. But I knew it wouldn't be possible. He was fading. Death's greedy hand was dragging him further and further away with every second. I started to speak, but his shivering hand rested on my cold clammy one, stopping me from saying anything.
"I told you I would keep you safe"

Then gone.

His eyes, open but unseeing.
I gently closed them. Not matter how much I loved them. I couldn't bear to see them expressionless. I couldn't bear to think that even though I could see every unique line of them, he couldn't see anything with them. I clung to his limp body, and buried my face deep into his neck, mumbling
"Stay grand, Ben"

Three years later.
The three years passed without any emotion. There was no point feeling anything. He was gone. Nothing in the world mattered. That's why I asked Howard to send me on the missions that one would consider too dangerous to do. But I didn't care. If I died, I would be with Ben again. In truth, I hoped to die. I didn't matter to the HQ, I was just another pawn in a game of chess. I'll be knocked over, and someone will replace me.

Three years is all it took, after three years, my luck ran out.

It was ironic, really, how I died. He tried to kill me before, and he spent a long time making it as dramatic as he could. But this time he spent no time messing. I guess he was annoyed with the last time. He wanted to make sure that this would be the last time he saw me. Well it worked. A single bullet to the head. It was over fast, really. I was glad.

"Welcome home" Is all he said, but the phrase had so much more meaning than what was heard.

"It's good to be back"


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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Thu May 29, 2014 8:42 pm

Didn't I know
I didn't know it in kindergarten, when he drew over my favourite drawing and when he kicked my feet while running.

I didn't know it in elementary school, when he made fun of me and threw waterballoons in my face.

I didn't know it in high school, when he ignored me when he was hanging out with his gang, but in his free time he was helping me with my homework.

I didn't know it when he brought coffee to my office and opened up the schedule for me so I could finish my work with ease.

I didn't know it when I was the last person he said goodbye to after going to war.

I didn't know it crying on his grave.

Today, when illness is destroying my body slowly, today, before death, I know.

He loved me. I was loved.

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sat Jun 14, 2014 9:36 pm


I don't know when it happened. I don't know why it happened. I just know he isn't here. Gone. I didn't care about anything any more. I sat locked away, in the room we used to share Only three people came to see me after his passing. My mother, and his two younger siblings. Mother kept repeating how 'he's gone to a better place' but he hasn't. Here is the better place. Here, laid next to me. Doing nothing, just wrapped in each other's arms, letting the world go by. I ignored his siblings when they came. Their eyes, their giggles, their everything reminded me of him. They gave up on trying to comfort me, like everyone else did. Just left me to bury my head in his side of the bed, breathing in the last of his scent that lingered on his pillow. My flowers were dying all around me, just like he had. Every single one reminded me of him, the red rose of love. The snapdragon of desire. All of them. The notes we had written were no longer covered the fridge, but were scattered all over the bedside table and bed, tear stained and smudged. I traced my hand over the writing, no tears came, I had no more to cry. It had been a week, according the date on my phone. I hadn't left our house, hell our room, since he passed. Only for essential things, but I prolonged them for as long as physically possible. A week, a week that had felt like months, years, decades. All I wanted was to see him again. To see his gorgeous smile. To stroke his hair that was smoother than silk. To look into his eyes that reflected the beauty of life. To hold him in my arms again. I just want my Isaac back. But he will never return. So, I must join him. And I know exactly how to do that.


Our wedding day was on the 3rd August, it just had to be a summers day, plus it was the same date as the first time we met. Mary helped us plan it, and those few months leading up to the wedding were the happiest of my life. Just spending time with Isaac, and occasionally his family. On the day, we were wearing our suits, matching of course, they were white with a crimson napkin folded into a triangle poking out of the top of the pocket. Isaac was the one who walked down the aisle, and was it the most amazing sight? No, but since there are young children here whose innocence would be questioned if I answered what was the most amazing sight, plus Isaac would hit me if I said it. I had to admit, I was grinning like an idiot, but I couldn't help it. This stunning creature that was walking down the aisle towards me would be my husband, and that is the greatest thing that could ever have happened to me. I reached out and took his hand as soon as he reached me, I was shaking slightly, and my hand was clammy. I was over the moon, really, but I was terrified. What if I messed up? The next few minutes may only be a few words, but, hell, could they change our life.
"Hello handsome"
"You're talking about yourself again, Pigeon" I replied in a hushed tone, just like Isaac had spoken and he giggled slightly, the sound that was still the heaven sent sound I heard when I first met him. It was the sound I wish to hear every day of my life, a sound which I wanted to be the reason for.


We had been married a month. A single month. Until tragedy struck, again. I had only known Isaac for two years and a month before he was taken away from me. Taken away by the one who I thought loved everyone. But He didn't love everyone. I couldn't believe He loved everyone after He took Isaac away. He took Isaac, He should have taken me too, He separated us. I know this is God's fault. Only He has the power to give and take life. He made that car crash into us. He made Isaac slip into that coma. He made Isaac die. But why did He choose Isaac? Why not those people in the car? The ones who the police had proved were drunk while driving. The ones who will only serve a few years in prison for making Isaac never walk this earth again. This world is a corrupted place. and I want to leave it as soon as I possibly can. I want Isaac to know how much I love him. I want to be able to tell him again. Take away this sensation inside, I can't take this feeling any more. And this is the only way I know how to end it.


I sat behind the steering wheel of the car, driving back home after a day out at a photographic gallery. Isaac was turned on the radio, to hear 'Somebody Out There' start playing. Our song. The song we danced to on our wedding. The song that is the last Isaac will ever hear. The song that haunts me to this day. There’s somebody out there who’s looking for you. We were approaching a junction, unaware about what was going to happen. Someday he’ll find you, I swear that its true. I am just about to pull out. He’s gonna kiss you and you’ll feel the world standstill. I see a rogue car heading towards us at ridiculous speed. There’s somebody out there who will. The car collided with ours, on Isaac's side. The shock on Isaac's face is an image I will never forget, an image burned into my mind.The last time I ever see him awake.


A single flower was left on the bed before I left. The only flower left alive in my house. I placed it on the bed before I left the house. My note. My last word to the world. An iris, a single iris placed on top of all the notes. An iris, faith.


Make it stop.
Let this end.
Eighteen years pushed to the ledge.
It's come to this,
A weightless step.
On the way down singing
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Mon Jun 30, 2014 5:04 am

Mission Delta
Chameleon was the main criminal mastermind in England, maybe even world. His battles were not fought with fists; but with bombs. Benedict had already been to Paris. He was sent there on a mission, assignment, to deactivate Chameleon’s bombs, placed in a dozen of cars placed all around the Eiffel tower. Only the best of best were sent there to get rid of bombs, because in each car there was enough explosive to demolish everything in the radius of a kilometre. Of course, they did it, but it was anything but easy. They were attacked for the first time flying in a plane from London to Paris. That thing alone was pretty common, and everybody knew how to fly a plane in the team, but the presence of two hundredish civilians made things considerably harder. Not to even mention deactivating bombs in Paris, full of tourists, in the middle of the day. That mission, the most important mission of 21st century, which Benedict successfully finished as a nineteen-year-old, was called Mission Delta.
word count; stupid

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Wed Jul 02, 2014 5:00 pm

Bam bamby bam bammmmmm

I took a deep breath, trying to make the air have a small amount of movement, but it felt as still as before. Ben shoved me in this closet almost as soon as we had entered the building. 'Too  dangerous' he had said, 'we don't know what's in store'. Surely it is best I went with him to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble? I hated this. This waiting, this not knowing if he is okay, or what he is doing. I took another breath, hoping this would lower the air pressure in here, but it had no effect, and the air remained heavy on my shoulders. Without Ben near, the world seemed to not function, it seemed almost pointless doing anything.
I rested my head against the cool wooden back of the closet [a closet which I now knew didn't have Narnia in the back of, or I would have made Ben run away with me there] closing my eyes and willing this to be over and for Ben to return to me soon. I had no idea what this 'mission' was, so this meant I had no idea how dangerous it would be, nor did I know how long it would be until Ben was back. I have a feeling Ben didn't know any of the details either, hence the reason he left me in this dreaded closet. I don't think the HQ had even set this mission, it is something Ben was just doing, but what ever it was he was doing- I had no idea. I had been in this exact closet before, on my first ever mission, that time he returned with a cut lip and a bruise. This time I hope he returns with nothing.

I heard the quiet shuffle of feet before I heard Benedict's urgent whisper from the other side of the door.
"Amelia?" I heard him say, and I pushed open the door, to reveal Ben stood in front of it. Relief rushed over me as soon as I saw him. I let out a probably too audible sigh of alleviation as I pulled him into a hug, there seemed to be no visible wounds on him. We ran down the cold corridor, our arms sometimes brushing, I really didn't like this place, the atmosphere was heavy and thick with what seemed to be anger. The cold from the air-conditioning nipped at my bare arms, the only warmth I felt was from where Ben's arm touched mine.  Benedict's feet were almost silent as he ran down this corridor, that glint in his eye that appeared whenever he had achieved or was enjoying something. As if aware of my staring he glanced towards me and grinned as we ran out of the wretched building.  I felt him grab onto my hand, and I first I thought he just wanted to hold it as we walked, but unexpectedly, he pinned me against a wall and his hand drifted to my hip. It settled there and pulled himself closer. I leant against his warm chest, which is chiselled to perfection. Must he be so perfect? I lifted my head up and pressed my lips against his, and he responded quickly. However, it only took a second for Ben to pull away and sigh,
"Let's get back to the flat before HQ realises we aren't there"  HQ had sent us here on a routine mission, just to check something wasn't going wrong. But Ben had added this little 'mission', and it definitely seemed like he wasn't going to tell me what it actually was. Whatever it was, he hadn't needed to attack anyone.

He took my hand again and brushed the brick dust off of my back, paying particular attention to my hair. He had mentioned before how he worships my hair, it is akin to how I worship his eyes. His amazing eyes.  To say that his eyes were blue was like saying that the sun was yellow. Sufficient but not accurate to capture the radiance. We head back to the flat we had shared so many times before, many times bad, many times good but all memories that I never wanted to forget. All the memories were with Ben, and memories that contained Benedict always were warm and reassuring, not matter what they actually were.
"Bloody Paris" I hear Ben mumble beside me. He says that often, and most of the time it is out of any sort of context, just like it is now. I knew it had something to do with Mission Delta, a subject Ben is not very keen on talking about, so I don't press on it. He has never actually explained what happened on Mission Delta, so I only know the basics of what happened, and I do doubt he will ever explain what happened. I looked up towards him and smile lightly, which receives a small smile back, however that smile doesn't last long. It drops almost as fast as it came, and something flickered across his face. Fear? No, Ben never gets scared. He pulls my hand urgently down a dark ginnel, similar to the tunnel he had pulled me down before. But this time there was no stopping. He ran just like he did when we were escaping Chameleon's building, as silent as the day slipping into the night. That's what it was. His sunniness vanishing as he ran down the bleak alley, but unlike the night, there was no moon. Just the sound of his breathing.
"Ben?" I asked, but he hushed me as we ran, in a direction to which I had no idea. I clenched my jaw, trying to remain as silent as Ben, but quite frankly, I was shit at running. My mentor didn't help either. We ran for a little while, it was long after we had left the city when we slowed down to take a breath. "Will you know explain to me why we had to run so far?" I complained, steadying my breathing back to normal. Walking through the long dead grass, Ben's limp started to reappear, after a long while of it being forgotten. He spotted a dead log on the floor, just big enough for us to both sit on. Once settled on the log, he looked over at me before placing an arm around my waist and pulling me closer.
"He almost saw you" Benedict said, worry flickering across his expressive blue eyes as he looked piercingly down towards me.
"Who?" I asked. I knew the answer. I feared the answer. I just wanted Ben to say a different name, any name but-
"Chameleon" He said the dreaded word with venom. As the last syllable left his lips, a shot of fear hits me. The fear creeps over me like an icy chill, numbing my brain. In this frozen state my mind offers me only one thought; he knew I was alive. The air surrounding me vanished as the memories of the last time I saw Chameleon flashed in front of my eyes. Pain radiated through my body, blotches appeared between my eyes and the lids that had made the word go black. An image of Benedict's face flashed in front of me, agony flaring across his face, this was moment just before I was about to die.
"Amelia" A soft voice said, my upper part of my body being lifted up off the ground, I must have fell off the log. "Amelia" It repeated, clearer this time. I took a deep breath, the shock of the cold air burning my lungs slightly. "It was a fucked up idea bringing you to that building. It was stupid, he knows you're alive" I sat up properly, but didn't remove myself from Ben's grip. I rested my head against his shoulder and kept my eyes open, I feared if I close my eyes again those images will come back. My head fitted perfectly on his shoulder, like two jigsaw pieces do. I remained like this, listening to his steady breathing, the thump of his heart and the buzz of his life. The life that I have dedicated myself to, the life I will love until the end. For a moment I forgot, all the broken, tattered and scarred parts of the love Benedict and I share. I forgot Chameleon, the HQ and the pain. All I could feel was the undying desire I had for the man sat next to me. All I could hear was his heart, breath and the twitter of birds that flew over head. Moments like this, unfortunately, never last forever.
"We should get moving and send a message to the HQ" Ben's voice rang out beside me, the sigh in his voice clear. I moved my head away from his shoulder, and looked over at him.
"Where? We can't go back to Paris, Chameleon knows we're staying there" I said, but Ben just smirked at me.
"Who said anything about going back to the flat" He said, that glint in his eyes again. This could either mean something very good, or something very bad. I hope the former. He moved his hands up to my hair, swiftly ducking into a kiss and plaiting small sections of my hair. I rested my hands on his chest, replying to the kiss instantly.
"Ben, it is not hard to notice that this isn't particularly getting a message to the HQ" I noticed, as I moved back to take a breather. "But I don't have anything against this at all"
"It is giving them a message- 'I love you Amelia, and HQ, you can stuff yourselves if you don't allow it'" Benedict replied, speaking fast so he could pull me back into a kiss.

"HQ has given us the whereabouts of a small house that we can stay at until they get a plane available to come over to France" Benedict said, as we continued walking through the field. We had been walking an hour after leaving the log, the long grass making it quite difficult to walk, which made Ben's limp more pronounced. I did offer to carry him, but realised and added that I might put out my back carrying him. This received a punch in the shoulder. He may not look like it, but Ben can sure deliver a punch strong enough to make that arm unusable for a day or two.
"Benedict"
"What?"
"I'm hungry" Ben ignored me, and continued walking. Mean, really. But I sighed and followed behind him until we reached the place that will be our home until the HQ managed to get a plane to us. To say we will be living in comfort would be a lie. A huge lie. The word house wouldn't be one I used to describe it. A pathway led up towards it, the path that once would have been gravelled, but now weeds and grass spouted from underneath it. We walk down this little path towards the door, which creaks open, only moving a centimetre at a time. It would have moved faster, but years of never been used meant it was covered in mould and neglect, and if you pushed it harder, you have pushed straight through it. Once we had slipped inside, the whole place was covered in a snowy blanket of dust. No footprints had disturbed the dust in what seemed forever. The house had just two rooms, a kitchen that had clearly been attacked by rats, and the room Ben and I currently stood in, a living room.
"And I complain you're a messy person" I spoke first, hating the silence that had built up in this place over the years.
"I'm not a messy person" Ben replied, shaking his head and surveying everything around us. "I have a feeling the sofa will be a bad thing to sleep on" He said, gesturing to the only piece of furniture strategically placed in the centre of the room. It reeked and was ripped in multiple places, I doubt it would be safe to sleep on. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and turned away.
"Why did the HQ send us here?" I asked,
"HQ logic" Ben replied, and walked back out of the door. I was about to follow him when he shouted, "Amelia, stay where you are" I stopped dead, and tried to peer out of the door to see what had made Ben say that, but couldn't see anything from my position. I hated that fact and tried to take a step so I was able to see him better. "Amelia, don't fucking move!" Benedict shouted at me, now I was scared. The fire of a gun rang out, and a grunt of pain followed that. I don't remember Ben having a gun. A few seconds passed, Ben would have spoken to me by now. The sharp sensation of fear ripped it through my body, was Ben the one who got shot? I sneaked around the door, spotting a body body was laid on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding it. From this position, I couldn't see the face, another shot of fear hit me. I prayed to God that that wasn't Ben, I was about to approach it to see and until two arms snaked themselves around me, one hand covering my mouth. I was about to scream, then realised I was a trained spy. I decided would make this person unable to walk after I was done with them. I jabbed them in the stomach with the corner of my elbow before whipping the myself round, and using that momentum to fling the person onto the floor. I pulled the small knife I kept in my trouser pocket out, flicking up the blade and turned round to point it to the person. "Whoa there. It is nice to know I taught you something" Ben said, looking up towards me, holding up his arms to block the knife. "But you forgot to pin the arms"
"Benedict" Relief flooded through. "Oh God, I am so sorry" I said, holding down my hand so he was able to get up.
"You didn't think I would leave you that easily did you?" I shook my head, looking at the man carefully. "He was no one important, just someone Chameleon had sent to check he was correct about seeing you. He did a very bad job of keeping himself hidden." He explained, and turned back towards the house, "I don't think it will be safe to stay in there. Let's contact Howard and make him pick us up now."

The helicopter arrived a few hours after, we had moved away from the house and the body, but HQ still had to remove the body to avoid suspicion. Ben and I currently sat on the helicopter, my head resting on his shoulder again, just like it was on the log.
"Amelia?"
"Hm?" I looked up to him and his face lit up with a grin, before he leant down kissing me. We sat there for a few minutes, hot breath mingling between us. I always felt sparks when I was with Ben, but this was so similar to the first night. My hands moved up to the buttons of his shirt, and I carefully undid them all, paying no attention to where I threw his shirt once it was off.
"Amelia"
"Hm?"
"You just threw my shirt out of the helicopter" Benedict said, his tone serious, before he burst out laughing. I gazed around the metal interior of the helicopter, and Ben's words were true, the shirt was no longer on the copter. I grinned at him, before pulling him into another kiss, placing my hands on his now bare chest, the laugh still vibrating through it. He lost the shirt, so why can't I use that to my advantage?

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Thu Jul 03, 2014 1:05 pm

x
If this kiss may be out last
I'm not a sentimental person. Who, me, Benedict Bennett? Never. Only for her.

Life as a spy isn't the safest. Our everyday was filled with shattered glass, bloody bullets and scars. Not that I minded. I hope she didn't, too. Running, icy wind against your face, legs barely touching the ground, I lived for that. You know how drug addicts have their favourite drug? So did I. Yes, boxing, yes, knocking someone out for a day, yes, shooting, all that was incredibly satisfying, but running. Heart is pumping blood to give you power, and you're God, for just a few seconds. My drug of choice.
Not hers. She hates running.

I made this decision nearly a decade ago.

Every time we'd be out on a mission, no matter what kind of a mission, something crazily, stupidly hard or just a routine check up, I'd kiss her. No matter where (though her hair is still my favourite spot). Just a kiss, a marker that she's mine, that I'll protect her with my life. A promise, if you will. Even after all these years, I still felt sparks. Not sparks, not really, stars. A little explosion of guaranteeing my love. Cheesy, I know.

But my kisses weren't limited only to heart-pumping moments of dangerous frenzy. Sometimes, when we got days off (and that, considering my persuasion skill, was more often now), and when we drove away from the HQ in Howard's car, we'd dig up the old CDs and wipe off the thin layer of dust from it. Music from the nineties and early noughties was the only one which we knew, we didn't have time to listen to the TOP 40s or anything like that, so the ancient records like The Black Eyed Peas, Cascada, Eminem, not to forget Radiohead or Pearl Jam, were the things we cranked up on the player. We knew every word. Yelling out lyrics in the crazy traffic of London was never the best idea, and yet we still did it. Especially when the lyrics were misheard, like 'sucking on a leprechaun' or the classic 'I got a gay dad' from Boom Boom Pow. I really doubt she didn't know the lyrics of that. I think she did that only to cheer me up. It always succeeded and ended with a kiss on the cheek. Just our thank you.

Why did I choose to kiss her before missions? What made me choose that little thing to be 'our thing'?

Humans are selfish creatures, and I am no exception. I kiss her because if we die on a mission, she'll remember me. The last kiss she got would from me.

Very selfish. But hopefully, not necessary.

If this kiss may be our last
know I'll hold you in my arms
You are safe, you are loved
here in my arms

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sun Jul 13, 2014 10:56 pm

It'd seem odd to put this on my johnlock form, so I am going to dump this here then run away, far away.

I don't believe in miracles. Never have, never will. I just believe that one songle person can be a miracle to you; and he was mine.
20 years ago, Mycroft and I sat in our mother's kitchen. During this time, I was six years old, Mycroft 13 and we were doing experiments. Nothing major, just the basic magnesium flare, and Mycroft believed he had everything under control- something he believes often. He turned the bunsen burner on before walking off to dad's lab to grab some safety goggles. I stared at the chemicals surrounding me omniously on the table. Excitement bubbled.in me as I grabbed a random bottle and read the small printed label 'TNT'. I removed the small cork before pouring the sand like substance onto the flame the bunsen was edmitting.
I don't remember much of that night. Just a horrid high pitched ringing out and the sound of what seemed to be a river that dripped out of my ear, the last sounds I ever heard.
19 years after that, I laid with my head resting, cuddled up into his warm protecting chest. I watched as his chest raise and fall softly, with each fall I felt a relaxing tickle at thr back of my neck. I took a deep breath, the combination of tea, shampoo and him filled my nostrils, making a smile spread across my face. He did love his tea. I looked up to his face, looking at the slight stubble growing, his relaxed jaw then the curve of his lips. Lips that were soft and tasted sweet as sugar (plus they had a tea taste, not that I minded). Remembering the taste makes me crave to slam my lips against his again, but I knew this would only result in him being slightly grumpy I woke him.
One year later, my position echoed that of that night. But this time his chest wasn't what my head was cuddled against. My head was resting on a bleached white pillow, clearly owned by a hospital. I wasn't sure how I got here, but I was definitely aware of the tight grip on my hand. Slowly, I opened my eyes and turned to face him, tears streaming silently down his face (but how could I tell), I wanted to move, wipe those tears away, but nothing happened when I tried. His hand was rough but warm, a reassuring feeling, however as his grip tightened and his eyes widened; I knew something wasn't right. I saw his mouth open to shout a word, though a sudden pain erupted through my body, stopping my concentration on him. I gasped for breath, but no matter how hard I tried, no air would go to my desperate lungs. I could feel the tears streamming down my face, just like his. I don't want to die. I don't want to leave him. But the pain cursing through my body was screaming at me to give up. The world was fading, becoming fuzzy and dark, I could only see his outline now. Everything was fading as a single word passed my lips. A single word I had craved to say for many many years. A single word that meant the world. A single word that was my only miracle.
"John"
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sun Jul 27, 2014 5:05 pm

Isadrew, Andrew's first phone
I thought this would be cute- sorrynotsorry
| Andrew | Isaac |

A small box was left on the table, a small note attached to it. I walked over to it and looked at the note, recognising the handwriting instantly.
'This will make talking over long distances slightly easier than leaving notes every where.
All my love, Isaac'
I smiled, and sat down on a chair, carefully unwrapping the brightly coloured paper. Inside was a box, which when the lid was lifted, contained a phone. I turned it on, watching as the screen lit up, with a small amount of excitement. This was the first phone I had ever owned, but thankfully, I had had enough experience handling them so I knew how to work it. As soon as the page had loaded, a message from Isaac popped up.

Wed, 07:16
Hey Flower, I see you found your new phone, my little gift to you xx

I chuckled lightly, and wrote a reply, knowing he might not respond, considering he was in class. During the first couple of words, my typing was slow, but soon found a faster rhythm as I wrote a quick reply.

Wed, 09:56
You, Pigeon, have to be one of the most amazing people to walk on this earth xxx

Wed, 09:58
I thought it would be easier for us, and have you only just woken up? xx

Wed, 10:01
I would have stayed asleep longer if my cute little pigeon hadn't left me xx

Wed, 10:03
I'm not a puppy
Wed, 10:04
Anyway, I have class, you know that, and I shouldn't be texting now, I'm in class xx

Wed, 10:05
But I miss you x

Wed, 10:08
I miss you too, but I have class x

Wed, 10:09
Class schmass
Wed,10:10
Why are your classes so long
Wed, 10:14
You're better here than there
Wed, 10:16
It is easier to love you if you're here
Wed, 10:17
Did I tell you how much I loved you?
Wed, 10:18
I love you Isaac
Wed, 10:18
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Wed, 10:20
These kisses aren't as even close to being as good as real ones

Wed, 10:21
My phone is going haywire, I think giving you a phone was a bad idea

Wed, 10:22
But I love you x

Wed, 10:25
I love you too, but I have to go, my lecturer isn't happy from the weird buzzing coming from my desk xx
Wed, 10:26
See you later xx

Wed, 10:29
But later is too long away, why can't I see your handsome face now?
Wed, 10:30
I love your handsome face
Wed, 10:31
And I love your soft hair
Wed, 10:32
I love your photography skills
Wed, 10:34
I love your sense of humour
Wed, 10:36
I love your adorableness
Wed, 10:37
I love the feeling of you being near
Wed, 10:38
I love the colour of your eyes
Wed, 10:39
I love how your smile can light up a room
Wed, 10:42
I love that you love me
Wed, 10:43
Most of all, I love you
Wed, 10:45
Though, I do hate that you're not here so I can't say all of that to your pretty little face
--
Wed, 12:00
I think you might have broken my phone from all the buzzing
Wed, 12:01
I don't know how to respond to all that apart from: I love you too xx

Wed, 12:09
If you did love me you would come home

Wed, 12:12
But I have class, I will be home at 5

Wed, 12:14
I will just sit here and wait for you

Wed, 12:16
You're meant to be working in the flower shop

Wed, 12:17
Not busy today, rarely is on a Wednesday

Wed, 12:20
Lunch break is almost over, I will have to love you and leave you x

Wed, 12:20
I love you more x

Wed, 12:21
Doubt that x
---
Wed, 16:37
I still find your relationship with your brother very strange

Wed, 16:43
I don't have a brother
Wed, 16:44
Oh hello Tina

Wed, 16:46
Your brother leaves his phone in very tempting places

Wed, 16:50
I wouldn't know

Wed, 16:51
Well, he does, and looks very eager for school to end, I think you will be getting some action tonight fghkvcgln';wevjm

Wed, 16:52
Did you just die?

Wed, 16:53
God I hate that girl sometimes, I just had to fight to get my phone back

Wed, 16:54
Mhm
Wed, 16:54
Now hurry your sorry little arse home, I miss you xx

Wed, 16:55
Class hasn't ended yet, I will text you when it is x

Wed, 17:00
Are you coming home yet?
Wed, 17:00
Now?
Wed, 17:01
Now?

Wed, 17:02
Yes, I am setting off now, who knew you were so impatient.

Wed, 17:03
But I haven't seen you since yesterday
Wed, 17:04
Let's meet at the park so I can buy you a coffee or hot chocolate

Wed, 17:06
Okay, I love you xx

Wed, 17:07
I love you too xx
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sun Jul 27, 2014 9:43 pm

Kill me
or Murder, but not a crime

Universe: original, BBC
Genre: Angst
Lenght: Two pages

No. Breath stops, cold in my throat. No. I kneel down, next to the figure in black and red. One bullet hole in his lower chest area.
"Sherlock?" I ask, shivering with my whole body. He tries turning his head to me, but unsuccessfully. Instead of an answer, he coughs and spits blood. I freeze. We both know what it means. The bullet hit his lungs. They fill up with blood, making it hard to breathe and, eventually, suffocating him. Long painful death. And there is nothing I can do about it.

He coughs once more, with more blood.
"John-" more coughs. "John, please"- he stops talking entirely, maybe because of the pain. He grabs his gun and throws it out of the pocket. The action is more than enough to understand, but he speaks up."Kill me."
"Sherlock-" my turn to choke.
"John, please." He raises his head to take a huge gasp of air."I'm going to die neverthrless, and I can't-" his breath didn't last very long.
"I-" I can't breathe. His broken image floats in my mind as I take the gun. Hands shaking, legs shaking, whole posture shaking, I get up. I notice that the gun is slippery from his blood. There are hot tears slipping down my cheek. I shake my head to hide them as I point my gun at him.

"Aim for the heart", he advises me, and those are the last words he ever said.
I aim for the heart.

I don't miss.

When I'm sure I did my job, I drop to the ground. I watch him. Blood and life drip out of him, drop by drop. I can't keep on looking, but I can't look away. I look at him while his light shirt goes dark, while his pale skin goes paler, while we both sit in a pool of blood. He looks at me and opens his mouth, but he can't say a word. He takes one last shaky breath, chokes, closes his eyes, and just like that, he's gone.

I'm not sure what to do. One part of my brain wants to run, run as far as it's possible, and the other wants to turn back time to take the bullet instead of him. He's dead because I'm alive. He often said that his brain was his most powerful weapon, and when I asked, he answered quickly, too quickly. 'Heart'. It hits me. By shooting him, I shot myself.

It feels like that, if nothing.

Too late.
It was always too late.

The police came an hour later, to find  body, a gun, and a man with blood on his hands, curled up so he can't see the body, and he was screaming. Screaming for an escape from reality.

_________________
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Thu Jul 31, 2014 2:25 pm

Dancing Queeeeeen, young and sweet only seventeeeeen
"Ow, shit, Sherlock" John's voice broke the music filled silence. Sherlock sighed, and shook his head. This was the fifth time in the last song- John kept placing his foot in the wrong place, so Sherlock's was trodden on often. But he didn't care. No, he didn't care at all. He wanted to spend every last second he had with John in a good mood. He wanted this day to be perfect for John, even if he did wish to be the one having the first dance with John. But John was happy with Mary, and Sherlock knew that if John was happy, he would be [at least a tiny bit] happy too. These dance lessons with John allowed Sherlock to hold him close in his arms, hold him like he belonged there for at least the length of a song. But it always ended, he always had to let go.
"You put your foot in the wrong place" Sherlock observed, walking over to the stereo and restarting the song, taking John's hands again, back into the starting position. "Remember, left foot forward, yes, then move your right foot to he right, no other right." John fumbled about slightly, managing the first two steps. Sherlock smiled at him, the box step was the most simple of ballroom dancing, but the concentration on John's face made it all worth him teaching it to him, and then Sherlock helped him with the next few steps until John was able to do the box step without much trouble. The look of concentration left John's face, and he was able to look up from his feet, to meet Sherlock's eyes. The smile spreading across Sherlock's face flickered, turning into a sad smile, but John didn't notice. He was too busy staring intently at Sherlock's eyes, his gaze only flickered down to Sherlock's lips once, which made him gulp and drop his look to the floor. But Sherlock noticed, he noticed almost everything, especially about John. But he brushed the action off as nerves. He was nervous for the wedding, of course he was.
"Keep looking up, Mary won't want to look at the top of you head, neither do I" Sherlock said so quiet John almost didn't hear him, but the close proximity made any word uttered by either men to be heard by the other. John lifted his head again, and Sherlock smiled a weak smile, which turned into a smirk. Before John knew what was happening, Sherlock spun him around and French dipped him, chuckling deeply at the expression on John's face. John grinned slightly, making Sherlock's heart lift, and he wanted more than anything to lean down and-
"Boys, you left- Oh, I'll come back later" Mrs Hudson abruptly closed the door and walked away. The closing of the door broke Sherlock from his trance and sighed. He lifted John back onto his feet, pressing the button on the stereo to turn it off. Placing his violin on his shoulder, he ignored the confused look that John was giving him, and ran the bow gently over the strings. He couldn't do this any more. He couldn't face this feeling any longer. This unrequited feeling.
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Tue Aug 05, 2014 1:28 pm

Chuu chuu
Five minutes. I have been stood here for 30 minutes, every one longer than the rest. But I will wait. I would wait a lifetime if I had to. Four minutes. 31 minutes standing with a cardboard sign in your hand takes its toll. The ache in my legs is almost unbearable, but I will wait. Thre minutes. The sign read 'Pigeon' and a large bouquet of flowers was taped to the side. Red tulip- everlasting love. The edge of the cardboard sign had left imprints on my palm. But I will wait. Two minutes. Lots more people were on the platform now, pushing and shoving to be at the front, not going past the yellow line. But I will wait. One minutes. I could hear it approaching. The chug of the engine, the squeak of the rails. I clung tighter to my sign. Scared? Yes. Nervous? Yes. But I will wait. Because most of all I am happy. Over the moon to see him again. A couple of weeks we had been apart. But it had felt like a decade. His college had took him away, took him to the countryside to get photographs of rural life. I didn't want him to go, but I let him.
The speeding train slowed to a stop. Random people filed out of the cars. None who I want. I ignored their pushing and shoving, because I saw him. I saw him charging towards me. I saw him collide with my chest. I felt his hands wrap around me. I felt the warm I had kissed so much. I had the angel back in my arms. My Isaac. And I couldn't be happier.
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sun Aug 17, 2014 2:10 pm

Playlist name: Songs that play in my head when I'm with you
{{Isaac downloads music on Andrew's phone}}

Andrew | Isaac
Notes: i miss isadrew ♡

[Tue 09.12]
No note today? My love is getting lazy.
[Tue 09.15]
Your love needs a lot of coffee. Your love is tired. Your love likes being called your love. Keep calling your love your love.
[Tue 09.17]
Somebody's cheesy. Why are you tired??
[Tue 09.18]
You still didn't find out?
[Tue 09.19]
What??
[Tue 09.20]
Didn't find out what?
[Tue 09.23]
Isaac Adrian Knight-Leeson, if you snapchatted Tina again yesterday, I will...
[Tue 09.25]
You will what?
[Tue 09.27]
I don't know, I'm trying to think of something
[Tue 09.28]
Look at your music folder.
[Tue 09.29]
What am I supposed to see?
[Tue 09.32]
Oh
[Tue 09.36]
For when you get bored in the shop, though that's highly unlikely. Got to leave now, lecturer is already ticked off at Tina for blurry photos. x
[Tue 09.38]
Thank you xxxxxx
[Tue 09.39]
And no, my keyboard didn't break.

[Tue 11.03]
Quieréme-Nuria Fergo
[Tue 11.05]
The literal translation is Love me
[Tue 11.06]
I love you.

[Tue 12.16]
One customer came by while I was listening to I Want It That Way-Backstreet Boys
[Tue 12.18]
He was cute and was buying flowers for his girlfriend
[Tue 12.20]
I put a chrysanthemum in his bouquet, which is typically a funeral flower
[Tue 12.22]
Not sure why I did it
[Tue 12.23]
Maybe his girlfriend will break up with him and we can set him and Tina up so she will stop hanging out with us
[Tue 12.25]
Believe when I say, I want it that way

[Tue 12.43]
Hero-Enrique Iglesias
[Tue 12.45]
I like that song, but admit it, you only put it because you had a crush on him a while back
[Tue 12.49]
How did you know??
[Tue 12.50]
... Tatiana.
[Tue 12.52]
I can be your hero x

[Tue 13.02]
Can You Feel The Love Tonight-Elton John
[Tue 13.04]
Lion King? Hitting me with the classics?
[Tue 13.05]
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer that we got this far
[Tue 13.07]
You're certainly going to feel the love tonight, I love all these xx

[Tue 14.59]
Without you-David Guetta
[Tue 15.02]
I will never win this game without you
[Tue 15.03]
Guetta has a fair point
[Tue 15.06]
Where are you? Is it been to short for me to be missing you?
[Tue 15.10]
Soon, love. Only a couple more classes. x
[Tue 15.11]
I like being called love too
[Tue 15.12]
Mr and Mr Love
[Tue 15.14]
I am the first Mr Love, you are the second.
[Tue 15.16]
Only if you come home soon

[Tue 16.32]
I'm still waiting, 1st Mr Love.

[Tue 17.03]
Your hot chocolate is getting cold.
[Tue 17.04]
Play the 16th song on the playlist.
[Tue 17.09]
Already Home-A Great Big World
[Tue 17.12]
Cruel reminder.
[Tue 17.15]
Open the front door.

_________________
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did u mean "my writing at 2 am"
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Fri Aug 29, 2014 12:06 pm

Before departure

[a couple of nurses found a letter addressed to 'my amelia' in the trash can in a room where a bomb victim had laid. the victim survived, to infinite joy of her partner. the yellow paper is stained by tears, blood from two humans, ink scratches. there are places where someone broke the paper in frustration. there are scratched out words, there is  place where the ink dripped out through the paper. the letter was written in the course of two days, and the line breaks indicated that the writer stopped writing for a longer period of time and changed a pen. the handwriting was in some places endlessly neat, in some places unfocused. in most places hopeless.]

I'm writing this letter while listening to the heart monitor. I've always hated those goddamned monitors. Beep. Beep. Beep. Such an irrelevant, ignorable sound, and yet it indicates a life of a human, of a person. It defines them.

I'm writing this because I'm afraid I might lose you before you lose me.

[line breaks]

This letter will end up in the hospital trash can, and it will be shipped with other trash and it will be burned. Yet I'm writing it, my dearest, because I need to get it out of my system.

First things first. You're marvellous. Absolutely brilliant. With your hands, you can both murder a man and put him unser your spell. You've always been better than me, always. In whatever aspect of life (and death) you wish to look. I may fight stronger, I may run faster, but let's face it. All that's irrelevant. You're a drug, no, my morphine. I am just a health hazard.

[line breaks]

He's going to kill me, Chameleon. I know which type of gun he'll use, I know where he'll shoot. He sent me a letter, like this one. I know how long it will take me to bleed out. And I know which words will be my last. He's stronger than me, Amelia, he always was.

And he will kill you too, as he promised. He'll let you live alone for three years without me, then he'll kill you. I'm sorry, but I didn't expect it to end any other way.
Thirty five years, that's more than I could ever ask for.

[line breaks]

Why does the air in hospitals smell like death and loss? It will be the same on my funeral, I presume.

[line breaks]

The monitor is still beeping with your heartbeat, why don't I feel your pulse? I don't want you to go.

[line breaks]

I've never been the type to imagine, or, better yet, wish to go old and grey with a person I love, and tell stories of how we found each other to our grand children. My life isn't Notebook.

Can you just imagine what we'd tell our grandchildren, if we lived in a different world? All the bits, all the bloody scarred bits of our story?

[line breaks]

You've been on and off for a while. You're either dead or alive. You're not a goddamn Schrodinger's cat.

[line breaks]

I'd've gone gray for you.

[line breaks]

I've always loved your hair. It surrounds your face with fire, with life. It shatters me to see it lifeless.

[line breaks]

A week. Chameleon gave me a week. I've imagined how I might die before, I imagined how I might say goodbye, but I can't stand to see my death planned. I bet he's marked my death on his calendar with a little smiley face and a comment, finally.

[line breaks]

If I were to wish how I wanted my life to be ten years ago, I would have said that I wanted to live fast, win all my battles, and die young. I'd have been a nice corpse. But now I only want time with you.

Time. Limitless and infinite, and restricted to us mortals. Just a little more time.

[line breaks]

Please wake up.

I want to spend every moment in which my heart still beats, in which my blood still flows with you.

I want to remember your hair made of fire.

I want to remember your destructive force.

I want to remember the way you put me under your spell.

[line breaks]

You're awake. Thank you. I love you.
Be with me until I end.

All my love and all my life,
Benedict

_________________
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Fri Aug 29, 2014 3:40 pm

Happy Birthday My Love

"Shit..." I muttered, only five minutes, I could literally feel the clock as it was ticking away the last minutes. 9th August, I now consider it one of the most important day of the year. And it is. Without this day, the most marvelling man would not have been born 24 years ago. This amazing man's classes will end in not too long, and I still haven't finished everything to absolute perfection. He is perfect. And the least I can do is to make sure everything to be perfect for him. I try my damnedest to be the someone he deserves, and for some unknown reason, this miracle of a man already believes I am the one he deserves. I took a step back from what I was doing to check it looked okay. I tried to decorate the house as much as possible, when I say house, I mean living room. A giant sheet was draped over the sofa and chairs I had pushed close together, making a large yet still cosy abode. The inside was filled with plump cushions but not enough, so I made a mental note to get more, and it was also filled with petals and small flowers, not just rose, but gloxinias, asters, zinnias (margenta), carnations and large amount more. The sheet blocked out the light that streamed through the window and the big light in the room, so the pillow fort was dark, and I believed the dark is not something to be celebrated. But a lamp would be boring, as it is just white and we always need more colour. I closed my eyes to think, racking my brain for a solution, hey I could be Sherlock, okay, thinking like that won't help find a way to fix this problem. My eyes sprung open as I thought of an idea. I ran out of the house, not forgetting to lock the house behind me, this street is quite busy- that helps with the flower shop- but also means anyone could realise the house is unlocked and get inside. I ran down the street until I reached the shop I needed. Muttering a thanks to God it was still open, I pushed open the door, listening to the tinkle of the wind chime that was hung strategically next to the door. Actually, it was so well placed, I had to duck to avoid hitting it, and the ceiling. Places like this where designed for people Isaac's height, not Australian giraffes. One of the first things that hit me about this place was the smell. It smelt musty and herb-y, no a pleasant combination. The place was also very dark, it was one of those Aladdin's caves, and it was somewhere, though tiny in height, was massive in every other way.  I kept my head bowed as I looked around for what I needed, this place would be easy to get lost in, with the tiny shelves stocked right to the ceiling. The gaps between these shelves was only just big enough for me to walk through with out damaging anything.  After five minutes or so, I managed to find what I needed, so I lowered myself into a crouch so I could reach out and grabbed three. Lava lamps coloured red, yellow and orange. I have always loved these odd things with their luminous blobs that floated up and down, something to do with heat and density I think but truthfully I don't care because they are just so pretty. I stood up- cursing as I hit my head- and wound my way through the maze until I found the checkout. Just behind was an old woman that stood no taller than Isaac, which took a lot of skill in my opinion, but her face was much older. The wrinkles were like valleys, I mean mountain goats could have climbed them they were that big and deep. Anyway rude and inappropriate, my apologies. I knew she was probably one who would talk to you for hours if you let her, even if you didn't let her she would, but I didn't have the time nor patience for that today.
"Hello dear, how are you today?" Her voice is exactly how I imagined a tortoise's would sound, but more female. I passed her the lava lamps, and she scanned them, "£45 (fuckamericandollarsimtoolazytodotheconvertingshit) please" She asked, and I handed over a few notes, with the hope she won't start talking while she got the change. My wishes weren't answered;
"Why do you need all these lamps?" And everyone knows it is impolite to not answer a question, so I had to reply, no matter how muc of a rush I was in.
"They are for my boyfriend's pillow fort" She's old, maybe the use of boyfriend will throw her off, but her smile didn't fade, nor did it flicker, she just continued staring intently at me. "It's his birthday, you see, and I need to finish decorating the house before he returns from school, which isn't too long away." Her smile grew again, seemingly not taking my hint.
"Oh, sweetie, I remember being young and in love. You and your boyfriend should come over for a cup of tea and cake one day, we can discuss everything. Maybe wedding plans, you proposed not long ago didn't you?"
"How-?"
"Never you mind, I remember when my husband proposed. Happiest day of my life, no the wedding wasn't, it was such a small affair. Between my husband and I it was mostly physical, I cannot remember him saying 'I love you' even once" The look on my face made her snap out of her life story telling "Now run along, your boyfriend won't be long." She handed me my change and bag with the lamps in before forcedly ushering me out of the shop. I took one glance back to the shop once I had walked a little distance, and the old lady had vanished from the door. Creepy. I just hope she  forgets, or dies, before she hunts us down and forces tea and cake down our throat. I ran into the living room, checking the clock as I went 16:59. Isaac's classes will end in a minute, and it is a fifteen minute walk here from his school, it hadn't taken me long to work out the distance and time it took for him to walk home. Usually I sit by the door and wait for him. And with that thought, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
'Tina is forcing me to go for coffee, I will be home a bit later than usual, love you xx'
'Love you too xx' Tina has her uses,

After setting up the lamps inside the fort, I ferreted around the house for more pillows, 17:05. I quickly sent a text to Tina to make sure he is home by 17:25. That means 20 minutes to decorate the cake. I put all the icing  tubes in colour order, then stared at the chocolate cake, I had no idea how to decorate a cake.  I've seen children do this, so how hard can this be? So resulted in having too much fun squirting the colourful icing all over the cake in no order at all, then adding on top 'Happy Birthday Isaac, I Love you Pigeon'. It was messy yes, but I am a florist, not an artist. I squirted some of the icing from the red tube into my mouth before quickly tidying everything away, and by tidying I mean shoving everything in the sink to sort out later. 17:22. Not long now... I ran to the door, grabbing some rose petals on the way and sprinkling them along the floor, creating a small path leading the way to where I had built the fort. I made sure all lights were off, stuck a small note on the door for Isaac to read just before he entered, then turned off all the lights and took refuge in the fort, where the lamps were still glowing peacefully. I spent a little while on the note, as I am terrible at writing, but I was definitely pleased with the outcome. A red gladiolus was taped the the bottom of it, the August's birth flower, also meaning pierced love.
On this day, God sent down an angel,
An angel that tore my world apart,
For that I am so grateful,
The angel received the gift of my whole heart,

I know I have nothing else to present.
Accept this flower, and the many that you will gain
So let's celebrate this special event
This is your special day, and I hope it is without pain.

I love you Pigeon,
With all the heart I gave you,
As you are my new religion,
Simply because I am stuck to you like glue.

P.s., don't turn on the light, you'll ruin the effect


At exactly 17:25, I heard the door open, and Isaac's footsteps following the path I had created.
"Andrew, what is this...? Where are you...?" He asked, just as he arrived into the living room. And as soon as he saw the fort,  I saw his face light up with a grin. He crouched down meaning he could walked into the fort without hitting his head. I had to crawl, as even bobbed down I couldn't get inside without dragging the sheet with me, Isaac's shortness is very much to his advantage in many cases like this. He sat down next to me, still grinning brightly, his smile brighter than all the lamps combined together. A smile that lights up my life and a smile I will never ever grow tired of seeing.
"You haven't answered me, what is this?" He asked, but I just ignored him, wrapping my arms around him so I was able to pull his as close as physically possible. Even though it is only a few hours a day, it feels like eternities and I know it will be so much better for the both of us if I could spend every breathing, and non-breathing [in case we go diving], moment with him. With our closeness, I was able to rest my forehead against his so I could gaze into his eyes,
"Happy Birthday, my love"
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Fri Aug 29, 2014 10:44 pm

Goodbye
We both knew it would come to this. There was no escaping it. The storm is getting stronger and the grip of your hand is loosening. I promised to follow you through the eye of the storm, no matter how strong the wrath was. But there is no longer enough room for us both to slip through. We've found Nemo (haha), like the HQ asked, but he wants one life for the other's freedom. I can't let him have you. Everyone knows the trick to life is not to get too attached to it. And I am not attached to life, I am attached to something in it. You, Benedict. I was too late to notice you running through my veins, you are my drug, but the doses are never enough. I needed to spend every moment with you Benedict, but the moments are limited now. I know they are. And I am sorry. Sorry for being a bitch. Sorry for not letting you deal with the letter. Sorry for not being with you for the time to.be appreciated. Sorry for not saying I love you enough. And most of all, I am sorry for what I am about to do. But he will set you free Benedict. He won't kill you. I couldn't let him kill you. Life without you is not living, just exsisting. I am being selfish, doing this, but I want you to know; you are my better half Benedict, without you there is no me. I was a nobody before I met you. Someone with no purpise but to follow the rules of the world. You changed that, you made me a someone and I am glad. You made me want to wake everyday, just so I could see the radiant blue of your eyes, the chiseled to perfect your body is and most of all, I woke up to see you. Alive and well. You made the world a brighter safer place, Benedict. No matter how dim it was. I know more than anything, you are the one I trust, the one who means more than the world and the one I love, Benedict. I know my goodbye will be meagre, when the time comes in the near future. He has been planning this day for months. Just listen, even if my words aren't worth hearing. I mean every word, every breath and everything.
The storm is strong Benedict, both us can't make it out alive so here is your chance.
You are my heart Benedict. And thank you for beating for this long.
I love you Ben.
Goodbye.
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sat Aug 30, 2014 11:37 am

Little something
"Isn't it a rule that you don't see the bride until you reach the altar?"
"Shh, Tina. Drew, could you pass me the tie, no, the stripey one, that's the one. Why do we have to wear ties, that's ridiculous."
"No, what's ridiculous is that stripeyntie. Jesus, Isaac, how can you."
"Tina, shut up!" Isaac barked at her, to the surprise of all those in the room, which meant Tina and Andrew."I'm sorrx, I'm sorry, I'm stressed."
"Isaac-" Andrew started, but Isaac stopped him.
"The flowers! Have they shipped the flowers?! I didn't see them before I put on this tux-" Isaac sprinted to the door but was stopped by both Andrew and Tina, who held him back.
"Isaac, it's fine!" Andrew was amused. Everything was perfect, he'd made sure it would be, but Isaac still had panic fits."I just got a call, the flowers are here." Isaac looked at him suspiciously, but the smile on Andrew's face was enough to make him forget about all 'but's and 'what if's. It WILL be perfect.
"Ei! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO KISS BEFORE YOU BEWED EACH OTHER!" Tina pushed them away from each other.
"That ship has sailed", Isaac giggled.

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Sat Aug 30, 2014 3:05 pm

Ehhhhhhhhhhh

"How did we afford this place?" I asked Isaac, leaning back so I was able to look up at the giant building in the not too far distance.
"I think your mother had something to do with that" Isaac replied, keeping a firm grip on my hand. The chatter of all the guests was becoming louder as they walked down the tunnel created by trees towards the castle like house where the reception would be held. The house was old, definitely a listed building. It was made from grey rocks that looked as though they would crumble as soon as you touched them. A rustling in the trees made me look up, and down from the branches fell a snake. I let out a quite girly squeal and jumped away from it. It only took a minute, and a poke with my foot, to work out it was plastic. I cursed a couple times, hearing the giggle from Isaac at my reaction. Two voices appeared right next to my ears,
"Careful Drew,"
"There are snakes" The two erupted into giggles, just like Isaac.
"Ria! Leah! Don't do that, you'll give me a heart attack" I complained loudly, while the three just laughed at me. "You three are so mean" This just made them laugh more. So, in a way to shut Isaac up, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a kiss. A chorus of 'ewww's came from my sisters. At sixteen, they were childish, even if their height didn't show that. They were almost as tall as me, but of course taller than Isaac, thanks to their latest growth spurt. I pulled back from the kiss, knowing my plan had worked. I also knew that Isaac disliked public affection, so before I went too far I stopped myself, even if it was next to impossible to do that.
"Guys please, I know that since you've said your vows you can kiss, but there are children around" Tina noticed, and pulled us apart before pushing us towards the building.
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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Fri Sep 05, 2014 8:51 pm

Ghosts of imagination
the sweetest taste of sin
to listen
to look at

Sherlock Holmes didn't have friends. He only had one.
And that one friend was someone he was madly in love with.



They've known each other since Sherlock was John's height, which meant since first grade of high school. It was insane how much both of them had changed. John's shoulders doubled in width, and Sherlock grew like a mushroom in the air. But no matter the physical differences, they were still the same nerd and the same punk from before. John still wore glasses and knit pullovers. Sherlock wore leather jackets and gelled his hair in a way which made John tease him. And they were together in the 'friends' sense of the word.

Their school colleagues had gotten used to seeing them around with their faces in books, ushering hushed words at each other, almost uncomfortably close, they'd got used to their crazy antics.

Sherlock, no matter how careless and whimsical he was about school, he was bright as a polished button, knowing things John didn't without even touching the study material. John was constantly amazed by him. And Sherlock returned the admiration.

John's determination was one of a kind. He never got less than an A in all his tests, because he studied and studied with a focused look on his face, at which Sherlock only recently realized he stared. He was staring at John for years. And he never did anything about the gut-clenching, devil-may-care feelings which devoured him from the inside in a tornado Kansas would be proud of. He had dreams, of course.



The haziness, dustiness and heavy feeling of the morning dawn all lay heavy on Sherlock's shoulders. And he was as carefree as a sparrow.

Sherlock nudged his nose against John's warm, salty skin. The early sunlight shone through the half-shut blinds, falling on the perfection which was John's nude chest. (That part Sherlock didn't have to imagine. He saw it on the beach during summer holidays copious amount of times, oh, and the time when John accidentally spilled orange juice over himself from laughing at Sherlock.) John was covered waist down. Even in his dreams Sherlock respected John's privacy. Besides, he'd rather leave it to reality than to his over-strung, exaggerated imagination.

He pressed a kiss on John's throat, where he could feel the heated blood pulsing through his veins, giving him life. John tangled his fingers into Sherlock's curly hair, a tingly sensation dripping down his spine, like thick oil from a spoon. Sherlock glanced around the room. Even in his imagination John's bedroom was impeccable, cleaned in a feverish, OCD way, while John revised out loud for the next test. But now there were clothes thrown on the spinning chair Sherlock liked to annoy John with, there were shoes on the floor, converse all-stars with socks still in them, and Sherlock's scarf wrapped around the door knob of the slightly opened entrance.

"Good morning, love", John whispered into Sherlock's unruly hair.



"Sherlock, for Christ's sake, stop!" John spluttered toothpaste foam all over the bathroom mirror.
"You have no right to mention Christ, you sodomizer" Sherlock spoke as he decided that brushing teeth is boring and started tickling John instead.
"We have to get ready for school and- you think this is a bloody game?" John threw the toothbrush into the sink and spat out the rest of the foam from his mouth before attacking Sherlock. He pinned him to the tiled, cold, but smooth wall and started tickling his sides, which he knew where the most sensitive. Sherlock squirmed around in his grasp like a fish out of water.
"John, no, no, please, I'm sorry, have mercy!" Sherlock let out a strange mixture of a squeak and a wheeze as he struggled against John, but all his attempts to speak or just get away failed and resulted in a loud uproar of laughter. Finally, as a last resort, he used his hands to grab John's tousled-up strawy-golden hair and pulled him away. They ended up staring at each other, icy silver eyes clashing with an ocean of kindness. John pressed a firm, quick kiss onto Sherlock half-parted lips. John tasted of toothpaste and just pure John.

"As much as this is pleasant and enjoyable and all other adjectives, we have school, you tosser."



John kissed Sherlock in a way which shook his entire field of vision and made it blurry and ripped on the edges, washed away by the tide of John's infinitely destructive lips.

Sherlock imagined John as a grabby person, so John grabbed two handfuls of Sherlock's hair so he could pull Sherlock closer, closer to him, pressing his strong body against Sherlock's shivering frame and tangling their legs together. John's kisses, no matter how dominating and or straight-forward Sherlock was with these things, left him weak, his whimpers begging John for more, always and forever more. Sherlock helplessly grabbed the bed headboard behind him so he could stabilize himself, but John used the opportunity against him, pinning him against the headboard, making Sherlock leave a wet and raspy whine into his mouth.

"My God, John", he moaned under his breath, his voice barely a growl, rough as it scratched its way out through Sherlock's otherwise occupied mouth."Can we keep on doing this forever?"
"No, because I have something else planned", John played with the buttons on Sherlock's shirt before popping them open all at once and kissed Sherlock's neck.
"Do whatever you wish, but never - ahh, never stop."



Sherlock woke up in a hospital room, positively sure that this wasn't one of his dreams. It felt too real, it had a material feeling to it. The air was heavy with anticipation.

"He started twitching in his sleep, then, when I went to check on him, he started talking to himself, then he just fell off the bed, and there was blood, so I called..." the voice of his mother came from the outside of his room, weepy and trembling.
"Ma'am, your son's condition is pretty bad, I'm not going to lie to you. He's in the late stages of psychosis, I have some pamphlets on it... Nevertheless, if you'd brought him any later, it would've gone worse, he would've started hitting pillows, and, lastly, people, because of his delusions and hallucinations." An older, irritating noise made Sherlock scowl.
"Mom?" he called, but his voice was feeble, meek, barely a whisper. He was surprised to hear footsteps and see his mother when she sprinted into the room with a painful look on her face.
"Oh, honey, you're awake. Listen, everything's going to be alright."
"What's wrong?" Sherlock didn't believe one word that passed his mother's lips.
"Nothing, dear, nothing, you have sort of an illness, but the doctors can cure you, you just have to go on a trip, just a vacation, little journey, to America, isn't it lovely?" she sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than him. Tears gave her away.

Sherlock packed and traveled to the city of Reichenbach, Cleveland, to a hospital, like he was mental. He wasn't mental. He wasn't insane. He was out of his mind.

He never left the emotionless rooms of hospital. He never got to see John again, but he could feel John's lips on his, even though they were never there.

The walls of his small room were chilly, but the walls Sherlock had built in himself were colder, gradually freezing Sherlock's soul, heart and brain. He never recovered.

He gave up.

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Mon Sep 08, 2014 7:51 pm

i wrote it at 3 am and retyped it at 9 pm. i don't want to edit it anymore.}}
edit: so. many. stupid. mistakes.


Itsy bitsy spider
missing

to listen to
to look at

It was a beautiful day, he thought to himself.

The birds were tweeting their all-too-familiar, washed-out, chirping song. The wind chimes on the other building across his flat clanked their metal poles, creating a cacophony of melancholy and nostalgia. Even the people on the square below the flat were politer to each other, they smiled at strangers, they threw quarters and pennies to the raggedy guitar player and his Yoko Ono, there was a proposal near the fountain and people stopped and cheered and clapped, even shred a tear or two.

Yes, it was indeed a beautiful day, he thought as he charged his gun. This would be the day when he finally ended Sherlock Holmes.

Shame, really, he continued his inner monolog. Holmes could have been quite a partner. His skills are undeniable, a stitching scar on his hip itched as a reminder. Bullet-sized. He cringed. Too slow, he'd been too slow and blood was spilt. Ah, never mind that now. He had better things to do than to count the bullets he had had in his body. He stopped counting after the number got larger than a hundred.

He fixed the lapels on his well-ironed shirt, reminding himself to thank his partner for that. Ironing fell under the verbs he disliked. He checked if his partner was still asleep (and tried for his pulse. Strong as a bell) before he scribbled a note in a frantic rush. No, he couldn't leave him alone in the morning without as much as a note, who knows what he'd think. He left the chaotic note on his chest and gave himself one quick look in the window reflection.

It felt like something was missing, but he couldn't decide on what that something may be.

Never mind, he repeated shaking his head like a wet dog. He needed to get out. Now. He snatched a pair of dark-tinted sunglasses and shoved them forcefully up his nose before leaving the flat.

Time was dripping away like rain on the roof of an empty house.

š

"Damn it!" Sherlock Holmes punched the steering wheel, knowing it won't help. Punching machines only worked on water boilers, and he'd taken considerable amounts of time doubting it was only his that worked on kicking. The paycheck of a freelance spy was, he thought, not enough for all the things he did and all the things he went through. Every one of his shirts had bloodstains. He'd turned to black ones.

After another enraged punch, he gave up, muttering swears and blasphemy under his breath. If a religious person had heard him, he'd be in a lot of trouble, for insulting God in at least five different religions. But he didn't care. There was a special place in Hell reserved for him already.

He felt his beloved gun between his skin and his shirt, leaving marls on already well-tattered skin as Sherlock leant back into the car seat. He squirmed about in an uncomfortable manner; when was the last time he changed the ripped fabric? Not more than a year had passed, and yet they were already compromised into bits and tears.

He sighed. A new car was even more of a luxury than a new boiler. That's why he took on this job by the most anonymous, unnamed, no-face, dirty company he was ever employed in. He raised his eagle-like nose in disgust as he remembered the smell of the office. If he found out in the newspapers that that company was a drug and prostitute cartel as well as an assassination centre, he wouldn't be even remotely surprised.

He yawned widely, as if he may swallow Pluto. The last time he slept was on a plane to London to Montenegro, from another assignment, this time from the more reliable, but still not trustworthy hands of Scotland Yard. He couldn't remember the last time he slept through the night.

He removed a lock of his hair from his face, greasy with sweat and not being washed in weeks (read under; water boiler) with the same hand he simultaneously rubbed his eye with, occupying both is fingers and his wrist. After a couple of moments fumbling in the pockets of his old coat, which belonged to his great-grandfather, he fished out a note, which still smelled of cheap wine, marijuana and body glitter. A note was a messy combination of mathematical squares and black tint letters which clearly ignored the squared guidelines.

"get RID of: jim MORIARTY!!!" The incompetence of the office man completely baffled him, even after reading it a dozen times. But, no matter how smart he considered himself to be, he would be nothing without the comparisons to the ignorant, inept individuals whose lives he could read off of the state of their teeth. He scoffed and got out of the car. Guess he'll walk, then.

š

He bought himself a pack of cigarettes before heading to the abandoned building in construction. No, not abandoned, he dismissed his words after he lit the cigarette. The work on it was stopped due to the changeable London winter weather. It looked abandoned, though.

Oh, how his partner would kill him if he saw him light yet another cigarette.

'Those things are deadly', he'd say. And his reply would be always the same.

'And so is my job'.

He promptly, subtly grazed his back, finding the comfortable and relieving weight of the gun lodged next to his spine. Soon, as if he purred to it. Soon you'll get your chance to attack.

He told his people all around town to tell Holmes where he could find him.

Time stopped dripping like water; it turned into oil.

š

There was something peculiar in all the people Sherlock talked to. They looked absolutely positive to their statement. The answers to his questions were too quick. Even to a mind which wasn't as bright as Sherlock's it would be clear as glass.

The construction works on the address the people gave him paused just days after Sherlock returned, due to foul weather conditions in the area. The building, even its skeleton (which was really the only thing which was done for now) was huge, and it reeked of drying cement, adrenaline and oure, unadulterated danger. The corner of his lips tugged up, just slightly, before returning to their usual state.

How could he find one man in a building this size? Then he heard it.

A child singing.

'Itsy bitsy spider' had a ghostly echo through the bottom floor. Sherlock knew it was reckless and foolish to run into the building on his own. Should he call backup? Which backup?? He pulled out the cold gun and paced steadily into the building.

There was something odd about the child's voice, but he couldn't tell what.

When the song ended, he sighed in relief, but then it started again, louder, sang by a chorus rather than just one child. Chills poured down his spine as the song filled every corner of his mind, every cell of his brain.

And then he got it. Like a push in the chest.

The children weren't English. They had a Slavic accent, maybe Slovenian, Serbian... Sherlock stopped and nearly dropped his gun. He'd been to Slovenia. Then to Croatia. Serbia, Bosnia. Montenegro. All along, he was chasing a man who possessed information destructive enough to rule the world.

In those countries, he was known as Pauk. Or, translated, Spider.

"Sherlock!" A voice so sweet it might have given Sherlock cavities spoke through melodic laughter."I thought we'd never meet, dear. My, oh, my, I thought I'd have to kill you back there in Bosnia. You put up quite a fight, darling, but it was all for none, mind me saying." A lithe person Sherlock had never seen before stepped closer, holding in his arms a stereoplayer which emitted a dreadful sound of the children's song.

The man noticed him staring at the stereo."Oh, this little piece of work? Children of Ljubljana kindly offered to demonstrate their singing skills before I got rid of them. Collateral damage. I think of it as my theme song now."Jim Moriarty's manipulative eyes met Sherlock's."What about you? What's your theme song, is it Smooth Crim-?" he was stopped by a clicking of a gun. Both Moriarty's and Sherlock's head snapped to the sound.

"Which one of you is James Moriarty?" a cold professional voice spoke and Sherlock felt his whole stomach freeze. Moriarty raised a hand and grinned manically at the source of the voice. A gun was pointed at him and a blond man stepped into the light squinting, somewhat surprised."And who might you be?" man's blue eyes fixed on Sherlock at which he shook his head hurriedly.

"No one, I'm no one."  Sherlock decided that the man only had one gun and Moriarty was a bigger threat at the moment. Oh, how blissfully wrong was he.

Blond took out another one from his back pocket.

"Okay, 'No one', move and you're dead." Both of his guns were pointed at Moriarty and Sherlock respectively."Where's Moran?" his voice was stern and demanding. Moriarty seemed unshaken.

"He's at home, sleeping. I don't drag him along to all my escapades, he's not a dog", Moriarty snorted in response and dropped the stereo."Did you think he was waiti-" both Sherlock and Two Guns saw what he was doing.

He reached out into the back pocket of his jacket where was, undoubtedly, yet another gun. Blond thought he was going to shoot at him, so he moved in Sherlock's direction. Sherlock thought he was going to shoot at him, so he moved in Blond's direction. Their sides bumped into each other's, hip and waist clashing together.

They fired two shots each. Sherlock aimed for the head. Blond aimed for the heart.

š

He remembered what he was missing.

A bulletproof vest.

š

The two men stared at each other, their guns still pointed at the air Moriarty occupied just seconds ago. Now he bled out on the floor.

"Sherlock Holmes", he introduced himself.

"John Watson."

It was beginning of a life-long partnership.

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PostSubject: Re: Random Stories   Wed Sep 10, 2014 10:25 pm

Flour Bouquet
"Andrew!" Isaac shouted as I hid not-so-well under a mountain of pillows and blankets in the livingroom. It was the best thing I could muster in such a short amount of time. Eventhough I had a shockingly bad hiding place, it was the hopelessly muffled giggle that gave me away. As I tried to quieten myself, a weight flopped on top of me, a cloud of white powder sprinkling in the air for a second before it fell and settled softly on the floor and surrounding furniture, showing me my plan had worked. A quiet 'Oof' escaped me as the weight fell straight onto my stomach, but I was trying too hard not to laugh for it to bother me greatly.
"Oh, dear, I seem to have lost Drew. Such a shame since I brought him a salmon coloured rose" I knew he knew he was sat directly on my abdomen, and I knew he was using the rose as a way to get me to reveal myself- so I did as he wished. I grabbed his waist, pushing him backwards onto his back, the blanket sliding off my head as I looked down towards him. This didn't seem to be the move he expected, as he let out a loud, adorable, squeak that was followed by his gorgeous giggles. Once my eyes adjusted to the brighter lighting, I could see Isaac more clearly. He looked very much like a lifelike snowman. Definitely the best snowman I had ever seen. His usually perfect  brown hair was tussled from where he tried to shake some flour out of his hair. His hair still looked its soft strokable self, so that's what I did. I knew his hair was his sensitive spot, and as I ran a hand through his hair, I was not disappointed by his reaction. He shivered almost as soon as my fingers touches his hair, and a very satisfying noise escaped his throat. However as much as I was enjoying this, I removed my hand from his hair so I didn't lose my balance or take it too far. So I took this chance to take in the rest of his flour-covered self. He truly is the most beautiful person I have ever seen, but since Isaac's masculinity is already on a very breakable thread, let's say most handsome. He truly was, with his amber eyes that were like jewels in the autumn sunlight. Hardly ever have I seen sadness glaze over these adorned gems, nor do I ever want to. The pure happiness in his eyes was enough to make old Scrooge crack a smile. Nothing joyed me more than seeing his eyes light up with happiness. I moved down from his eyes to his lips, and I was going to make an assessment on how perfectly kissable they were, but didn't last a second without leaning down and kissing them. That says a lot, doesn't it? Even if he does taste like flour.
"Mm, Drew, were you even listening to me?" Isaac asked after a second, and I flashed him a guilty smile. He sighed, but smiled [I do love his smile too]. "I was asking, how come I am covered in flour as soon as I step into the house even though I was perfectly clean before?" Another sheepish smile from me.
"I think you make the most perfect snowman" I replied, kissing him again.
"Andrew Christian Knight-Leeson, flattery will get you no where" He replied, giving.me a quick peck before pushing me away again. Well it got me a kiss. "Why was there a bag of flour on the door?" Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow, which I moved my lips up to kiss.
"The maid"
"We don't have a maid"
"The imaginary maid" I wasn't drunk. On a physical substance anyway. I was drunk on my love for Isaac. Cheesy, my God do I know. But I don't care- we're cheesy. I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Drew.."
"Fine, I wanted a snowman but we have no snow since it is summer so I made the best flourman known to men [and women]." I leant down and kissed but a sharp intake of breathe through the nose made me pull back quickly to splutter out a sneeze.
"Making you a flourman" sneeze "back fired too quickly. I regret doing it" I said, as Isaac laughed. He continued laughing at my misfortune as I sat up off him, not wanting to cover him in sneezes- kisses okay, sneezes not-so-much. Isaac stood up, kissed my forehead from where I was sat on the mound of cushions.
"Now, Mr. Love the second, I am going to get cleaned up. I expect all flour to be cleaned up by the time I am done- as punishment for your little prank." He shook his head like a wet dog, sprinkling flour everywhere, walking from the room with a wink. "Love you, Flour"
"Love you more, Pigeon"
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