|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 1:50:38 GMT -5
Post by Jules on Aug 10, 2008 1:50:38 GMT -5
The breath was warm, hit her right in the face and smelled like champagne, and for a worrisome moment, with the proximity of their faces (so much so that they were literally sharing air) Marie felt a little dizzy. Maybe it was the alcohol. Hopefully it was the alcohol. She bit into her lip and nodded slowly, barely perceptible.
"Secret safe wiz me."
What was this anyways? This wasn't something she did, so why she didn't feel wierded out was beyond her. Marie was genuinely comfortable and at ease. "But why don't you like to be ze nice guy?"
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 1:57:42 GMT -5
Post by Miss Jack on Aug 10, 2008 1:57:42 GMT -5
His eyes sank closed. Only later would he contemplate the truly odd friendships he acquired, and why he only felt attracted to girls that decidedly shifted from the normal standard. Perhaps it was his short attention span, even his arrogance, that made the normal standard too boring. Rarity, so to speak, was fascinating and thus, beautiful.
With a sigh, he reopened his eyes at her question. "It's not that I don't like being nice. I just like who I am as I am, and I'm not usually nice." He pursed his lips, and then amended, "And I like the lack of expectations."
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 2:09:56 GMT -5
Post by Jules on Aug 10, 2008 2:09:56 GMT -5
Marie pressed her lips together to keep a yawn from escaping. It took her a moment to swallow it before she could respond. "I guess you've nevair 'ad anyone count on you." If no one had any expectations of him, no one could really trust him to be there for them, could they?
"Don't you evair want someone to be able to come to you wiz zere problems?" And then she shook her head, laughing slightly. "I guess not, huh?"
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 2:25:03 GMT -5
Post by Miss Jack on Aug 10, 2008 2:25:03 GMT -5
"Call you butter," he began and then her "almost" yawn infected him and his mouth stretched, "cause you're on a 'roll'," he finished, with much less finesse than he'd planned.
"Now try and shut up, okay?" He closed his eyes again.
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 2:43:12 GMT -5
Post by Jules on Aug 10, 2008 2:43:12 GMT -5
Marie rolled her eyes and then closed them. After the swim, the champagne and the heat, it was paradise to let sleep take over. She was under in under a minute, and, of course, didn't make any noise that even closely resembled a snore. It would probably be hard to hate Alexander after this.
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 2:50:34 GMT -5
Post by Miss Jack on Aug 10, 2008 2:50:34 GMT -5
He was out within seconds, without a conscious thought for the next several hours, until he woke up. He had a really comfortable pillow. He tried to burrow his face deeper into it, only to realize abruptly he was nuzzling skin. His head shot up; an instantly regrettable action when blood rushed between his eyes. Marie's face was still smooth with sleep. He'd been resting with his own face against the crook of her neck, and his arm still lay looped over her waist. Carefully, he began untangling himself, trying not to wake her. He remembered the reluctant rescue, the champagne, the sun.... That had been a really great nap.
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 3:00:32 GMT -5
Post by Jules on Aug 10, 2008 3:00:32 GMT -5
But there was no such luck. Marie woke to Alex disentangling their limbs and stretched lazily, careful not to hit him. "That waz ze best rest I 'ave 'ad in a while." She said in that fuzzy I-just-woke up voice. But like the miracle woman she was, her hair was still perfect as was her makeup. Bed head just wasn't something she did, unlike Alexander. She ruffled his hair casually and grinned drowsily.
"Nice 'air."
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 3:09:33 GMT -5
Post by Miss Jack on Aug 10, 2008 3:09:33 GMT -5
He gave her own hair a flat glare. What was it made out of, cement?
He ran a hand through his black locks, probably making it worse. "Thanks," he said, smirking. He flicked her up-do with two fingers, and it barely even bounced. Huh.
He rolled a shoulder, studying her through half-lowered lids. "You're a lot nicer when you have alcohol and sleep in you." Though, the effects of the alcohol were probably slept off.
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 16:01:16 GMT -5
Post by Jules on Aug 10, 2008 16:01:16 GMT -5
"I am not mean." Marie protested, a small frown creasing her power-pale brow. "Iz you who iz ze self-proclaimed jerk." Where did he get off saying she was the mean one? Maybe she had been acting a little stand-offish with him, but he brought it out in her. It was his fault.
"You're a lot nicer when I 'ave alcohol in me too." She jested, still not quite able to wrangle up the iciness with which she'd confronted him before. "And I am nevair mean."
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 16:08:25 GMT -5
Post by Miss Jack on Aug 10, 2008 16:08:25 GMT -5
He snorted flippantly, rolling over onto his back again. The hammock swayed with the action. "Sure, sure."
He still felt drowsy, relaxed, but no longer sleepy. He didn't mind laying there, but the silence might get awkward. "You're food is probably rotten by now."
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 16:20:40 GMT -5
Post by Jules on Aug 10, 2008 16:20:40 GMT -5
Marie clucthed onto the hammock as it swayed, worried she'd be thrown off. But for all her caution when he mentioned her rotting food, she not-so-smartly leaned over the side to flip open the top of her mauled picnic basket. Her head at that angle was not the brightest idea she'd ever had, but sometimes a girl forgets her head has a tendency to roll off.
Which it did, rolling like a pretty, yet quite grostesque ball a few feet away. Her now headless body fell off the hammock, waving it's arms in a panic. From her mouth, a little ways down the beach one could hear a colorful set of french expletives rolling off her tongue. As well as a bright blush flooding her features. In fact, if she hadn't been swearing, she'd probably have been crying. If there was one thing Marie was horrendously ashamed of, it was this. And for HIM to be the one to see it was just all that much worse.
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 16:26:38 GMT -5
Post by Miss Jack on Aug 10, 2008 16:26:38 GMT -5
When her body rocked out of the hammock, it tipped it enough to turn entirely over and he landed in the sand with an unceremonious grunt. He spit sand out of his mouth, leaning up in time to see her head roll down toward the beach. Never receptive to female distress, he laughed, bending over and holding his side.
He wiped away a tear of mirth and crawled over to her head. He raised an eyebrow. "That's gross," he said, snickering. Gently, he picked up her head and placed it into the arms of her fallen body.
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 16:32:31 GMT -5
Post by Jules on Aug 10, 2008 16:32:31 GMT -5
He was laughing at her! It took her a moment to replace her head and fix her choker but the moment she did, she sprung to her feet, beat red and furious. "You are going to die miserable and alone." She spat and picked up her basket, leaving the champagne bottle as the remainder had mostly soaked into the sand.
Shooting him one incredibly icy death-glare at him (a little lost amongst the still tomato redness of her face) she stalked down the the beach to retrieve her shoes, plannning on making a hasty exit with what was left of her pride.
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 16:39:02 GMT -5
Post by Miss Jack on Aug 10, 2008 16:39:02 GMT -5
He recoiled slightly at the unexpected venom in her voice, physically leaning away, a baffled expression on his face. Women. It only took him a second to recover himself and then he sprung to his feet, jogging after her. "Hey, wait a minute," he called. He caught up and grabbed her upper arm. "Stop--- I didn't mean to laugh. I mean, I did, but I didn't think you'd get so offended. It was... funny?" Wasn't it? C'mon-- her head popped off.
|
|
|
Picnic
Aug 10, 2008 16:49:36 GMT -5
Post by Jules on Aug 10, 2008 16:49:36 GMT -5
By the time he'd caught up with her, she'd just finished slipping on both her heels. Convenient since she now had a viable weapon. Lifting her foot she brought it down on his own, not hard enough to pierce skin since the heels were dangerous enough, but hopefully bruise.
"'ilarious."
Marie couldn't really even look at him. She wasn't actually that mad at him, really. But she was humiliated and that was how she was taking it out. Especially since he'd laughed. Although any reaction would've probably been the wrong one, so it wasn't really his fault. She tried to yank her arm away.
|
|