Photographs and Gasoline{EMMY}
Jan 8, 2011 20:05:53 GMT -5
Post by Antosha Vikenti on Jan 8, 2011 20:05:53 GMT -5
Antosha rolled off his bed, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. Did he notice the odd body in his bed? Of course not. He stretched slowly, then threw off the blanket and walked out of the bedroom. The room was cold and dark, making him feel like the entire house was still asleep. But no, it was just empty. Everyone was away. Which left Ant walking down the stairs, running fingers through his hair as he shuffled along with only boxers keeping him from the rest of the world.
He yawned again, starting up a coffee maker to make his daily cup of-something. Normally breakfast would be sitting on the counter but today it was missing. Ant turned to the fridge, opened it, and blinked at the piece of paper hanging from it. May had left a note apparently. He yanked it off and slowly read it, then reread it. And read it again to make sure he had read it correctly. 'Dear Annie, we went out to dinner. Sandwiches for you and your friend. -May'
Ant set the note on the counter and went into the living room to find a clock. Why the living room when a clock was right there in the kitchen? Maybe Ant just couldn't realize things like this. So just like before he froze where the clock was and stared at the red blinking numbers flashed an evil time. Since when had it become six at night? That was crazy late. And it also meant that he'd been asleep a long time. A lot of hours. Too many for him to count.
So now that he knew what time it was Ant headed back upstairs, past his room and shuffled into the bathroom. It took him quite awhile to actually get the water started without either burning himself or freezing off various parts that he was sure he'd need in the future. Well, he'd grown attached to these parts anyway. He took a shower quickly, using some fruity smelling shampoo and wincing every time he got soap down his back. And oddly enough on his knuckles too. But everything was odd today.
He stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist, drying his hair with a tiny spare towel. More like a hand towel. Ant threw it onto the floor then stopped and looked at his knuckles; they were raw, red, and looked in bad shape. With a shrug he tossed it off as he got into a fight and didn't remember, which wasn't too unusual for him. After all, mornings tended to involve less thought and more movement. Ant turned around and inspected his back in the mirror.
Well, it explained why the soap hurt. His back looked similar to what'd you think a guy who'd gotten mauled would look like. Though his tattoo didn't seemed messed up at all, so Ant was fairly happy. Even though he looked like a mess. Maybe not so happy after all then. Ant poked one of the scratches and winced, really. What happened last night?
He groaned and headed to his bedroom, thinking that he needed some new clothes. Hopefully clean. But before he got to his room he remembered the coffee brewing downstairs, so he turned,, and went downstairs to fetch a mug of coffee. Now he was ready to get dressed. Ant went back to his room-Zombie mug in hand-and opened the door. He walked over to the desk and paused. Alright, someone explain the clothes that were not his on the floor. Ant glanced around and saw someone sleeping in his bed. Hold on, why was Emmy..
Oh, yeah...
This explained all his issues this morning. The late wakeup, the scratches, and the knuckles. Well maybe not the knuckles... That was probably just another fight-over Emmy, no doubt since he was here. And naked. Ant really loved this view. The blanket had somehow fallen down during the night so everything was exposed. But Ant was nice and moved to fix this blanket issue, mostly because it looked cold to be there.
Now why wasn't he freaking out that Emmy was in his bed? Well, Emmy had all the signs of an Ant loving-night and he was probably drunk. So best to let him sleep, yes? He was just very sweet that way in order to you know... Avoid flying pillows. Despite Emmy's blindness, he had very good aim. Ant sighed and started up his computer, drinking coffee as the skull-and-crossbones screen saver flashed once. He stayed online-web surfing mostly, the occasional Email reply-for a good hour before his little friend started to wake up.
And freak out, just a little. But then you would too if you woke up in a strange house and had no idea where you were. Ant probably would have. "Good morning Emmy... Well... Evening now. It's about seven thirty. Hangover?" he yawned and took another drink of coffee, wondering just how long last night had gone on to make him this tired. It was one of the worst morning afters he'd ever had. Except, maybe, for the fact the guy in question was still here. That brightened it just a little bit.
He yawned again, starting up a coffee maker to make his daily cup of-something. Normally breakfast would be sitting on the counter but today it was missing. Ant turned to the fridge, opened it, and blinked at the piece of paper hanging from it. May had left a note apparently. He yanked it off and slowly read it, then reread it. And read it again to make sure he had read it correctly. 'Dear Annie, we went out to dinner. Sandwiches for you and your friend. -May'
Ant set the note on the counter and went into the living room to find a clock. Why the living room when a clock was right there in the kitchen? Maybe Ant just couldn't realize things like this. So just like before he froze where the clock was and stared at the red blinking numbers flashed an evil time. Since when had it become six at night? That was crazy late. And it also meant that he'd been asleep a long time. A lot of hours. Too many for him to count.
So now that he knew what time it was Ant headed back upstairs, past his room and shuffled into the bathroom. It took him quite awhile to actually get the water started without either burning himself or freezing off various parts that he was sure he'd need in the future. Well, he'd grown attached to these parts anyway. He took a shower quickly, using some fruity smelling shampoo and wincing every time he got soap down his back. And oddly enough on his knuckles too. But everything was odd today.
He stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist, drying his hair with a tiny spare towel. More like a hand towel. Ant threw it onto the floor then stopped and looked at his knuckles; they were raw, red, and looked in bad shape. With a shrug he tossed it off as he got into a fight and didn't remember, which wasn't too unusual for him. After all, mornings tended to involve less thought and more movement. Ant turned around and inspected his back in the mirror.
Well, it explained why the soap hurt. His back looked similar to what'd you think a guy who'd gotten mauled would look like. Though his tattoo didn't seemed messed up at all, so Ant was fairly happy. Even though he looked like a mess. Maybe not so happy after all then. Ant poked one of the scratches and winced, really. What happened last night?
He groaned and headed to his bedroom, thinking that he needed some new clothes. Hopefully clean. But before he got to his room he remembered the coffee brewing downstairs, so he turned,, and went downstairs to fetch a mug of coffee. Now he was ready to get dressed. Ant went back to his room-Zombie mug in hand-and opened the door. He walked over to the desk and paused. Alright, someone explain the clothes that were not his on the floor. Ant glanced around and saw someone sleeping in his bed. Hold on, why was Emmy..
Oh, yeah...
This explained all his issues this morning. The late wakeup, the scratches, and the knuckles. Well maybe not the knuckles... That was probably just another fight-over Emmy, no doubt since he was here. And naked. Ant really loved this view. The blanket had somehow fallen down during the night so everything was exposed. But Ant was nice and moved to fix this blanket issue, mostly because it looked cold to be there.
Now why wasn't he freaking out that Emmy was in his bed? Well, Emmy had all the signs of an Ant loving-night and he was probably drunk. So best to let him sleep, yes? He was just very sweet that way in order to you know... Avoid flying pillows. Despite Emmy's blindness, he had very good aim. Ant sighed and started up his computer, drinking coffee as the skull-and-crossbones screen saver flashed once. He stayed online-web surfing mostly, the occasional Email reply-for a good hour before his little friend started to wake up.
And freak out, just a little. But then you would too if you woke up in a strange house and had no idea where you were. Ant probably would have. "Good morning Emmy... Well... Evening now. It's about seven thirty. Hangover?" he yawned and took another drink of coffee, wondering just how long last night had gone on to make him this tired. It was one of the worst morning afters he'd ever had. Except, maybe, for the fact the guy in question was still here. That brightened it just a little bit.
