*there is, presumably, a Raoul existing and he's another year older* *he is, of course, flopped on his couch with his usual beat-up notebook but for once, he isn't writing poetry or studying -- he's just doodling in it and there are at least two people he'd very much like to see, yes, so here, have the birthday post that actually managed to go up ( Read more... )

*where else can Raouls be found but on their couches with a textbook -- and yes, Eve, it is actually a textbook, especially since he's probably got exams going on at the moment, due to this being the point in a semester when most people and their mothers are having midterms* *he isn't entirely focused on his studies, however, as there are other ( Read more... )

I am the luckiest being in existence.

I don't know if it's harder to believe that it's already been a year or that it's only been a year.

I love you, Nar.

If there is anything akin to too much studying, to too much working, too much doing, Raoul does not know the meaning of it. However, right now, he is simply sitting, curled up on his couch (the one in the main room) with a small worn notebook, and he's considering it, wondering whether or not he should continue working or give up for the time being ( Read more... )

( Possibly graphic. )

I am a miserable failure.

That is all.

( Private notebook scribbles. Hippocrates might steal the page out and deliver it to Nar. Gabe's call on that. )

...So ( Read more... )

...What the hell just happened?

Tester, I'm going to be dead in class tomorrow... today.

DidIdotherightthing?

( Telling Eve what's wrong. Private to her. )