Resignation.
I don't know what this is:
Lincoln could turn around and look, but he knows those footsteps so well that he doesn't need to. He knows their rhythm, their weight, and he knows where they're headed.
There's nothing but fog before him, and the sun trying to burn a hole through it all just to make it truly feel like mourning. Look, the rest of the ( Read more... )
Lincoln could turn around and look, but he knows those footsteps so well that he doesn't need to. He knows their rhythm, their weight, and he knows where they're headed.
There's nothing but fog before him, and the sun trying to burn a hole through it all just to make it truly feel like mourning. Look, the rest of the ( Read more... )
"Nyehh." He grinned slyly, and with a wink said "what's up doc?"
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~GLOMP!~
There.)
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He swooped down to pick up a stick that lay at his feet and started twirling it like a baton, utterly unable to stay still for two minutes.
He regarded Lincoln and the question with utmost gravity. "Boy problems?"
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But then comes the question, and he would sputter at the audacity of it if it wasn't the truth. "How did you know?"
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He made a whistling noise as he threw the stick away, bored with it already. He settled for shoving his hands deep in his pockets and scuffing his feet in an incredibly irritating fashion.
"Besides, I'm just an observant kind of bloke. You're moodier than usual." He stuck his tongue out a bit as he said it.
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I'm usually moody? He wants to argue against that point, tell Beau that just because he's quiet, it doesn't mean he's in a bad mood. He just has little to say, that's all. "Alright, prove how observant you are. Tell me what my problems are, Aunt Beau." The words are his own way of pulling a face right back.
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"What's wrong with ya? Well!" He acted like no one had asked his opinion before. Which was in fact recently, quite true. He seized the opportunity."
"You think too much fella. All this introspective shit - sure, it works to get the lads in, broody-mysterious-type and all.." He stopped only to wink. "But all this sitting around feeling sorry for yourself and holding it all in, well, it's just not going to work, is it?" He said it like it was obvious to everyone. "Stop worrying so much about how you feel and just let loose! You're too serious about everything!"
He stopped, squatted down and scooped up a clump of dirt. Swivelling on his toes he turned to face Lincoln, cocked his head to the side and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "For example," he started slowly. "If I was to chuck this dirt at you, you'd be annoyed, right?"
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He wondered just what this had to do with the love troubles that Beau was so certain he knew all about. Wondered if Beau expected him to just go right ahead and open up, spill everything that he was thinking, or feeling. Could he do that? Could he honestly let loose and still maintain the self-respect he'd worked so hard on for the last five years?
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"Why not? S'just dirt! It's not that big of a deal! Worst that'll happen is that you get a bit grubby. You never had a mud fight when you were a kid? We used to get completely fucking disgusting, and probably induced more dirt than was healthy for any one human being. Bruises too sometimes, when the bigger kids would fully pelt you with a massive wad of it."
He stepped in closer to Lincoln. "Andjya know what? It was fucking great. Taking a risk, getting dirty and not worrying about how your mum was going to rip the shit out of you when you got home. That's what it's all about."
Beau finished with a satisfied nod of his head.
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~feels silly~
~kisses~ Go sleep, luv. :) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Despite the protest in his words, though, he did drop down to sit in the dirt. Mostly because the sudden jumbled rush of thoughts made sitting easier than standing. "Yes, I used to have fun like that. But I'm not a kid any more, and it's harder to get up and keep going when I fall these days."
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