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Post by Miss Jack on Oct 21, 2008 23:19:22 GMT -5
Alexander was stuffed, mildly drunk and exhausted when he crawled back into their cozy crypt. He'd been tricked into lusting after his brother's girlfriend, not to mention the other dares and truths he'd subjected himself to, and all he wanted was the escape of unconsciousness.
He slumped into the bottom bunk and pulled the blankets over his head, dead asleep in seconds, one hour before morning.
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Post by Princess Katie on Oct 21, 2008 23:46:30 GMT -5
Illie had gone back home a few hours go, after Nellie had been asleep a long while. She left a cute little note and a cake on the table, locked up, and went home to fix up the laundry before Simon and the kids got home.
When Alexander stumbled in, Nellie sat up excitedly. She was a notoriously light sleeper. Kicking off the her little quilt, she used the edge of the bunk bed like a gymnastics bar, flipping onto the lower bunk, landing smack dab on top of Alexander, straddling his chest. “DID YOU ‘AVE FUN WOZ IT FUN WOT’D Y’ DO WOZ IT FUN?”
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Post by Miss Jack on Oct 21, 2008 23:58:25 GMT -5
Not many things could have pulled him out of the state of undead he had collapsed into, but a flying shepherdess landing on his middle was one of them. He bolted upright, letting out a strangled cry of surprise, and hit his head on the top bunk.
"Ow!" He rubbed his head and then blinked, finally comprehending the very wide awake Nellie sitting in his lap. "Sheep Girl," he growled, eyes narrowing, but in the moment where he would have told her to get the hell off him and back in her own bed, he didn't want to, because he was suddenly kind of glad to see her. "Yeah," he sighed. "It was fun."
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Post by Princess Katie on Oct 22, 2008 0:19:43 GMT -5
Nellie beamed down at him. “I’m very glad y’ enjoyed yerself,” She said sweetly as she rolled off of him, to snuggle between him and the wall. She was glad he had fun, but she missed him. They had spent just about all their waking moments together; it was weird having him gone.
“Wot’d ya do? Guess wot. Yer aunt was helpin me do cross stitch and I’m makin you something and I’ll show it to ya in the mornin okay?”
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Post by Miss Jack on Oct 22, 2008 0:25:23 GMT -5
He rearranged the blankets around both of them, nestling in beside her. He yawned loudly. "Oh, you know. Scared convicts, drank spirits, kissed my brother's girlfriend. The usual."
His eyes sank closed, and he shifted unconsciously in her direction, the direction of softness and the faint scent of flowers. "Next time I might stay home and cross stitch with you."
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Post by Princess Katie on Oct 22, 2008 0:36:33 GMT -5
If she was a Nightmare, that would probably be great fun.
Wait.
What was that last one?
A strange, maybe-angry-maybe-sad feeling wormed its way into her stomach; she wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was definitely uncomfortable. Nellie bit down on her lip. She didn’t know how to address this feeling, so she tried to ignore it.
She rested her head on Alexander’s chest, “No, I wouldn’ wancha ta miss it.”
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Post by Miss Jack on Oct 22, 2008 0:50:24 GMT -5
"Mmm..." He started to reply, but couldn't even manage an intelligible response before falling asleep again, one hand resting on her head, his fingers entwined in her blonde curls.
He woke up feeling comfortable. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, and the lack of sunlight in the cemetery made it especially hard to tell. When he attempted to stretch and bumped into Nellie, he knew why he'd been so comfortable. He watched her for several seconds before realizing he was just looking at her for no reason, and quickly decided to return the favor she'd spared him last night. "Waaaake up," he sang, fairly loud, in her ear.
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Post by Princess Katie on Oct 22, 2008 1:03:09 GMT -5
The slowing of his breathing told Nellie that he had fallen asleep, and so she guessed she could go back to sleep too. And it was awfully warm and comfortable, snuggled into Alexander’s bed.
However, her morning wakeup call was not so comfortable. She was a light sleeper to begin with, and Alexander hadn’t exactly whispered in her ear. “Wot ‘appened?” She asked, her voice slurred with sleep. Nellie sat up and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Oh…goodmornin.”
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Post by Miss Jack on Oct 22, 2008 1:10:11 GMT -5
His mouth tipped into the instinctive crooked smile. "Good morning to you," he said. Her hair was slightly mussed with sleep, but his was worse, standing almost straight on end. His eyes were lined with the effects of last night.
"What do we have by way of strong drink in this place?" he muttered. "Coffee, tea... or vodka," he added to himself. He couldn't tell if he was just worn out, or hungover, or a bad combination of both.
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Post by Princess Katie on Oct 24, 2008 0:35:42 GMT -5
Nellie shrugged as she climbed out from the bottom bunk, and stretched before climbing up into her bunk to retrieve the socks she had kicked off last night. She gasped in horror when she realized that she had carelessly left her poor stuffed sheep out from underneath the covers all night. How he did not freeze to death was a mystery. With a glance over her shoulder, to make sure Alexander didn’t see and laugh at her, she rested the sheep’s little head on her pillow and pulled her comforter over it.
Socks forgotten, Nellie followed Alexander into the kitchen, “I can make sumfin’,” she offered. Not that she knew how to cook. But somehow, inexplicably, she felt like she had to prove herself. Alexander’s little comment about kissing Zizzy last night really wormed its way into the back of her mind, whether she realized it or not.
Anyway, how hard was making eggs and coffee?
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Post by Miss Jack on Oct 24, 2008 1:03:07 GMT -5
He hesitated uncertainly and then nodded, sitting at the table. I can make something. It sounded casual, like she "made things" all the time, even if he'd never seen her cooking. Making meals was just the kind of domestic thing she might be good at, anyway. That's the other thing they did at farms, right? Cook?
"That would be great," he said.
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Post by Princess Katie on Oct 25, 2008 20:20:15 GMT -5
“Alright,” Nellie muttered to herself determinedly, glancing around their cramped kitchen area. She was not quite sure why she volunteered to cook breakfast, she really wasn’t, but she was not going to sit there and waste time self-analyzing.
Luckily, she understood the basic skeleton of cooking. She had helped out in the kitchen often enough, though she was usually left to stirring and chopping and other brainless tasks. But she had at least been in a kitchen, stood over a hot stove (which was probably more than Alexander could say). Okay, coffee. The coffeemaker was especially intimidating due to its advanced technology. She had never even used an electric alarm clock, let alone a machine that makes coffee for you. (How futuristic!) She put the grounds in what looked the grounds-hole and water in what looked like the water reservoir, hit what looked like the on button and hoped for the best.
And she had gathered eggs before, but Peep chickens laid chocolate eggs, no good for omelets. She examined the little white egg in her little white hand. Couldn’t it have like a seam or something, like a peapod, that would let her know where to open it? Dumb chickens.
How did her mother do it? Nellie pressed her eyes shut, trying to remember. It seemed like it had been years since she had seen her mother, but it had hardly been two months. It still made her sad to think about it; sometimes, early in the morning, before Alexander woke up, she would go outside on the front porch and cry a little bit. She didn’t tell him, though. She thought it would somehow upset him.
After a little more examining of the egg, she cracked it and its friend into the pan with no small amount of triumph. Her glory was dulled, however, when she tried to flip the eggs and half of it stuck to the pan, breaking the yolk and sending it hissing onto the hot metal. She gasped, trying very hard to unstick the rest of the egg, to little to no avail. The smell of burning egg filled the tiny room and it was clear that Nellie was getting more than a little stressed out. She switched the stove off and pulled her hair into a ponytail and stared at the blackened eggs in the pan.
With an Earth-shattering sigh, she turned away from the eggy horror to pour two cups of coffee. Nellie took those, a sugar dish, and a cup of creamer to the table and sat down next to Alexander. “So, ‘ey, ‘ow d’you feel ‘bout cake fer brefast?”
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Post by Miss Jack on Oct 26, 2008 0:54:41 GMT -5
Alexander sat across from her, lips pressed together, fighting laughter. Both his brows arched in an innocent, speculative way, as if he couldn't smell the burning eggs dominating the whole kitchen.
"I think..." he said, "that cake is an excellent choice for any meal." He paused, stirring some cream into his coffee. He took a sip and determined she had used about two cups more grounds than she needed, but hid his wince when his tongue shriveled a little. Anyway, it was good for his post-party headache. "Do you, uh, need some help?"
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Post by Princess Katie on Oct 26, 2008 2:29:57 GMT -5
Nellie shook her head, “No, no, I can do this. It’s juss cuttin’ cake. I can rally ‘andle this, Alexander.”
She cut them both a gracious slice of the cake Illie left them and sat back down, looking rather defeated. “I’m no good,” she pouted, poking at her cake with her fork. She’d be a horrible housewife.
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Post by Miss Jack on Oct 26, 2008 2:41:03 GMT -5
He tilted his head, studying her, before scooting his chair over so he sat directly at her side. He laughed softly. "Look at that frown," he said, brushing his finger over her bottom lip. More seriously, he sighed, and glanced down. At times, like this one, for example, he felt like he was crushing her spirit keeping her with him. Like a butterfly. If you love something, set it free. He tugged at a curl near her ear. "Don't be so hard on yourself." He grinned broadly. "I burn things all the time."
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