Ooops?
I feel like I'm walking on eggshells in this place. I can't even make myself a sanwhich in peace without Morgan following close behind me.
"Let me do that for you?" she smiles.
Like I'm about to let her poision my food. I really doubt that she would, but you've never seen the look she has in her eye. She may look all cute and innocent and, but I swear to you she's not. "No. that's okay. I can make it myself."
She's..... trying too hard to please me, and I'm just not givin' her that extra mile that she needs to hook her foot to get a secure grip. She's a doll though. She's been bringin' me cold drinks. Glasses of the finest tastin' wine-- AND I' even getting body massages.
*grins* She's talented... I'll say that much.
I... really need to give her a little bit more respect... but still, something inside doesn't trust her... just like I don't trust Piper. I mean, sure, I can play a pretty convincing role, but having him around irritates me in certain degrees.
Maybe not as much as seeing Heat Wave's sorry ass wonderin' around, but enough to get me irked.
I've got this feeling.. that if something goes down, he won't be able to keep his mouth shut and.. I'm afraid if he crosses that line so as to cross the trust that we've bonded with him?
He's gunna be a dead flute player. "Old pal" or not. but for the meantime? I'm staying cool... for Evan's sake. Having hartley's presence around seems to be doing well for his rehabilitiation. He's.... not as antsy as he was... and with Hartley around, at least he's got another interest-- a GOOD interest-- to stay out of trouble with. He made a deal with me though, and I told him if he screws up that's IT. No more chances and his ass is grass.
I won't hesitate to slam his skull into a pole. I'd rather know that I'm the one making the red liquid rush down his face and know that I'M the one who caused the pain and suffering to him rather than some substance. Some... drug that someone littered with poision damaging his insides. I can't deal with that.
If he wanted to drink his liver away (like I sometimes do) then that's FINE. Whatever. Let him go at it. But I cross the line at substance abuse. I may be on the wrong side of the law on a lot of things, but dealing with that crap?
You've got to think I'm stupid.
Smokey says no, brother.
The next thing I know I'm hearing voices. Hartley's... no doubt.
I turn my head away from the episode of Robotica currently playing on the TV and get up, heading over to him, my eyes are actually glued to the window. Is that a humming bird? Hell! I didn't even know those things existed out here. "What's that you got in your hand, Rathaway?"
"Let me do that for you?" she smiles.
Like I'm about to let her poision my food. I really doubt that she would, but you've never seen the look she has in her eye. She may look all cute and innocent and, but I swear to you she's not. "No. that's okay. I can make it myself."
She's..... trying too hard to please me, and I'm just not givin' her that extra mile that she needs to hook her foot to get a secure grip. She's a doll though. She's been bringin' me cold drinks. Glasses of the finest tastin' wine-- AND I' even getting body massages.
*grins* She's talented... I'll say that much.
I... really need to give her a little bit more respect... but still, something inside doesn't trust her... just like I don't trust Piper. I mean, sure, I can play a pretty convincing role, but having him around irritates me in certain degrees.
Maybe not as much as seeing Heat Wave's sorry ass wonderin' around, but enough to get me irked.
I've got this feeling.. that if something goes down, he won't be able to keep his mouth shut and.. I'm afraid if he crosses that line so as to cross the trust that we've bonded with him?
He's gunna be a dead flute player. "Old pal" or not. but for the meantime? I'm staying cool... for Evan's sake. Having hartley's presence around seems to be doing well for his rehabilitiation. He's.... not as antsy as he was... and with Hartley around, at least he's got another interest-- a GOOD interest-- to stay out of trouble with. He made a deal with me though, and I told him if he screws up that's IT. No more chances and his ass is grass.
I won't hesitate to slam his skull into a pole. I'd rather know that I'm the one making the red liquid rush down his face and know that I'M the one who caused the pain and suffering to him rather than some substance. Some... drug that someone littered with poision damaging his insides. I can't deal with that.
If he wanted to drink his liver away (like I sometimes do) then that's FINE. Whatever. Let him go at it. But I cross the line at substance abuse. I may be on the wrong side of the law on a lot of things, but dealing with that crap?
You've got to think I'm stupid.
Smokey says no, brother.
The next thing I know I'm hearing voices. Hartley's... no doubt.
I turn my head away from the episode of Robotica currently playing on the TV and get up, heading over to him, my eyes are actually glued to the window. Is that a humming bird? Hell! I didn't even know those things existed out here. "What's that you got in your hand, Rathaway?"