on_thecouch 31.1 - Stop staring at me.
The little boy with the mute-green skin sat at the end of the table. There was a new kid there now, little and tiny, like the rest of them, but younger.
Mortimer never paid much attention to the other orphans, he'd much rather spend time by himself rather then put up with them, but he knew this kid was new. He knew because this one wouldn't stop staring at him. It isn't anything out of the ordinary, because Mortimer is used to being seen that way - out of the ordinary. Different. Green. A freak.
Mortimer tries his best to continue on eating his meager meal, head ducked down, spooning the watery oatmeal into his mouth. He glances up briefly every ones in a while, never making eye contact with the kid, but just enough to know he's being watched.
Finally, he looks the kid right in the eye. The other little boy freezes in spot, spoon half way up to his mouth.
Mortimer hisses, low and scary, "Stop. Staring. At. Me.
The spoon clatters to the table, little bits of oatmeal flying everywhere. The boys stands up so quickly his chair flies backwards, and he goes off running to one of the orphanage workers.
Mortimer chuckles to himself.
If you can't join them, may as well scare them the heck away.
Mortimer never paid much attention to the other orphans, he'd much rather spend time by himself rather then put up with them, but he knew this kid was new. He knew because this one wouldn't stop staring at him. It isn't anything out of the ordinary, because Mortimer is used to being seen that way - out of the ordinary. Different. Green. A freak.
Mortimer tries his best to continue on eating his meager meal, head ducked down, spooning the watery oatmeal into his mouth. He glances up briefly every ones in a while, never making eye contact with the kid, but just enough to know he's being watched.
Finally, he looks the kid right in the eye. The other little boy freezes in spot, spoon half way up to his mouth.
Mortimer hisses, low and scary, "Stop. Staring. At. Me.
The spoon clatters to the table, little bits of oatmeal flying everywhere. The boys stands up so quickly his chair flies backwards, and he goes off running to one of the orphanage workers.
Mortimer chuckles to himself.
If you can't join them, may as well scare them the heck away.