the world won't everever be the same, and harry potter you're to blame!
THIRD POST OF THE DAY. Sorry.
Untitled. For deadduck008, whose birthday ended forty-one minutes ago and who I promised some Mike Newton love. Thank you _thirty2flavors for reading through it!
Mike Newton, PG, Twilight fandom, 623 words.
Summary: Perhaps sitting down in the kitchen table, masticating pancakes at 1 am in the complete blackness that is the night just isn't right.
--
Perhaps sitting down in the kitchen table, masticating pancakes at 1 am in the complete blackness that is the night just isn't right.
The clock ticks silently and he swallows another bite.
On the other hand, perhaps it is.
--
He goes out dancing once with Jessica once, on the summer holidays, when they still had a chance. The place is not big, but he never expected it to be. The music? Catchy, but he doesn't know the lyrics and yet he is dancing his heart out in the middle of the dancefloor, crying out words he hopes will fit with the song's.
A few moments later, he feels something's wrong and sees Jessica, appalled, all wide eyes and sideway glances.
"What were you doing?"
Who cares what Jessica Stanley has to say, anyway?
--
He has a little brother, ten, blonde -- clone. He doesn't get along much with him, mainly because of the age difference, mostly because he can't face the Mike he had been seven years ago.
He groans every time his parents leave and oh, Mike darling, could you please stay at home and keep an eye on Benjamin? He is seventeen, has a car, and -
He’d bet anything he owns Edward Cullen never had to stay at home on Saturday nights to take care of their his brother.
(Little or not, brother or daughter, Mike Newton never finds out how wrong he is.)
--
Bella Swan changes boys as she changes underwear, he tells himself, convinces himself, fails to. Her face floats in his mind more often than it should be allowed, and he balances it by cursing her and saying words like much too ordinary and not worth it.
When he crosses her on the hall, his heart paralyses for a second until it starts beating back again, rapidly, and before he knows it, his hand is in the air and her name on his lips.
--
Her mother had always been much too curious on her son's affairs, and so, the "Remember flowers work all the time, sweetheart" seemed to be stuck in his brain forever.
He's got the flowers. He's got the card. What he hasn't got is simply the girl.
--
He has to admit there are times, when the night is silent and there isn't anything else to do, when he wonders if he is living some sort of satire. Correction: not living; observing. From the outside.
It all starts when the damsel enters the stage, who in no time is engaged to Ice King in a romantic, revolting relationship. But hold your breath, ladies and gentlemen, for this is not all: new characters appear all the time. A 21st century Danny Zuko had to show up, pure muscles, bike and everything he never had.
(Most of all though, Mike wonders who he plays, if anyone.)
--
He never really liked books, but when it's sixth grade and Miss Taylor brings Murder on the Orient Express to class, he is downright fascinated.
For years, he yearns for puberty and a moustache to cover his upper lip and beams when the mirror reflects darker strands of hair. Blue eyes were never green and blond was never as good as black, and yet, Hercule Poirot-Mike Newton had never been so close.
A year after Bella arrived to Forks, he is glad his eyes are still blue and the black dye on his upper shelf untouched. After much bronze and black hair around, blond starts to feel original.
--
He winds up with Jessica in the end.
It's been twenty-three years, and he still isn't sure if he regrets being sick one Friday night at the movies.
Guess you're stuck with what you've got, eh?
--
See any parallels, Ali?
--
Harry Potter fans, please do me a favour and click for some hilarity.
Untitled. For deadduck008, whose birthday ended forty-one minutes ago and who I promised some Mike Newton love. Thank you _thirty2flavors for reading through it!
Mike Newton, PG, Twilight fandom, 623 words.
Summary: Perhaps sitting down in the kitchen table, masticating pancakes at 1 am in the complete blackness that is the night just isn't right.
--
Perhaps sitting down in the kitchen table, masticating pancakes at 1 am in the complete blackness that is the night just isn't right.
The clock ticks silently and he swallows another bite.
On the other hand, perhaps it is.
--
He goes out dancing once with Jessica once, on the summer holidays, when they still had a chance. The place is not big, but he never expected it to be. The music? Catchy, but he doesn't know the lyrics and yet he is dancing his heart out in the middle of the dancefloor, crying out words he hopes will fit with the song's.
A few moments later, he feels something's wrong and sees Jessica, appalled, all wide eyes and sideway glances.
"What were you doing?"
Who cares what Jessica Stanley has to say, anyway?
--
He has a little brother, ten, blonde -- clone. He doesn't get along much with him, mainly because of the age difference, mostly because he can't face the Mike he had been seven years ago.
He groans every time his parents leave and oh, Mike darling, could you please stay at home and keep an eye on Benjamin? He is seventeen, has a car, and -
He’d bet anything he owns Edward Cullen never had to stay at home on Saturday nights to take care of their his brother.
(Little or not, brother or daughter, Mike Newton never finds out how wrong he is.)
--
Bella Swan changes boys as she changes underwear, he tells himself, convinces himself, fails to. Her face floats in his mind more often than it should be allowed, and he balances it by cursing her and saying words like much too ordinary and not worth it.
When he crosses her on the hall, his heart paralyses for a second until it starts beating back again, rapidly, and before he knows it, his hand is in the air and her name on his lips.
--
Her mother had always been much too curious on her son's affairs, and so, the "Remember flowers work all the time, sweetheart" seemed to be stuck in his brain forever.
He's got the flowers. He's got the card. What he hasn't got is simply the girl.
--
He has to admit there are times, when the night is silent and there isn't anything else to do, when he wonders if he is living some sort of satire. Correction: not living; observing. From the outside.
It all starts when the damsel enters the stage, who in no time is engaged to Ice King in a romantic, revolting relationship. But hold your breath, ladies and gentlemen, for this is not all: new characters appear all the time. A 21st century Danny Zuko had to show up, pure muscles, bike and everything he never had.
(Most of all though, Mike wonders who he plays, if anyone.)
--
He never really liked books, but when it's sixth grade and Miss Taylor brings Murder on the Orient Express to class, he is downright fascinated.
For years, he yearns for puberty and a moustache to cover his upper lip and beams when the mirror reflects darker strands of hair. Blue eyes were never green and blond was never as good as black, and yet, Hercule Poirot-Mike Newton had never been so close.
A year after Bella arrived to Forks, he is glad his eyes are still blue and the black dye on his upper shelf untouched. After much bronze and black hair around, blond starts to feel original.
--
He winds up with Jessica in the end.
It's been twenty-three years, and he still isn't sure if he regrets being sick one Friday night at the movies.
Guess you're stuck with what you've got, eh?
--
See any parallels, Ali?
--
Harry Potter fans, please do me a favour and click for some hilarity.