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Post by Hale Evans. on Apr 4, 2009 22:59:49 GMT -5
 everybody wants a piece of you ,
everyone takes a piece of me .----- What the hell was he doing!? Did he seriously just tell Holly, Holly, that if she brought him over a hot dog and some cotton candy that he'd actually read to her what he had been writing. Personal poetry. Being read out loud, to someone like Holly. For bloody food. Not that Hale had anything against Holly, or who she was as a person. But, it was Holly. Someone he had tried to look at as a sister, someone he had tried to stay away from any situations that were more personal than normal. And this was certainly something personal. A lot person, to specify.
----- Needless to say, Hale was majorly stressing and kicking himself in the ass for agreeing to it. Damn his appetite, and obsession with consuming food. Then again, some of this was Holly's fault, as well. She had been the one who had wanted to read his poetry in the first place. But, he had been the one to say that that's what he'd been doing. Maybe if he had said he was masturbating, like any normal twenty-one year old would be, he wouldn't be in this mess. Worst case scenario; someone up above is playing their cards against him for some reason.
----- Running his right hand through his jumbled hair, the strands hardly still holding in the gel he had applied in it the morning before, resulting in a messy bundle on top of his head. His free hand clenched his black notebook, knuckles straining so much they were a pale white. Could he actually do this without looking like a total moron? He'd studder. And most likely mess up the words, or skip a line. Would Holly judge him, or laugh? And what if she didn't get his poetic views? Thought he was a total sped and walked out on him? . . . was someone like Holly even capable of being that big of a bitch?
----- Sighing, he stood up from his computer desk and kicked the chair back in with his bare foot. Running his free hand over his chest, not bothering to put on a shirt, knowing Holly had seen much more in her lifetime on a guy, he strode into the small kitchen to down a couple beers. Not to get drunk. But to loosen up so he wouldn't back out of this, and make it seem like he had only been cheating her out of food. That'd be mean, even though he'd really love to do it.
----- Dropping the book onto the counter, he opened up a bottle and downed half of it's liquid in one breath. Sucking in some mouthfuls of oxygen, he finished the rest of it and bit the inside of his cheek at the flavor the foam had given him. Shrugging it off, he finished his next one and leaned against the counter, his eyes slowly closing. Letting the bottle slid over the surface of the counter, he turned around and gripped the sides of the freshly cleaned edges, head dropping a bit as he tried to remember the real reason behind the poetry. Depression? Loneliness? Or both of them?
----- The knock on the door started him for a moment, his eyelids opening. Grabbing the book, he stuffed it into the front of his pants, knowing it wouldn't do much to hide it's bulkiness. Strolling through the doorway, he reached the front door and didn't bother peeking through the eye hole, already knowing the smiling face he'd see staring back at him. Swinging the door open, he gave her a puppy face and softly whimpered, eyebrows dropped to try and con her into letting it drop. But Holly was so stubborn when it came to shit like this. The most she'd most likely let go, was the part about him reading it out loud. That was as far as he'd get, and he knew it.
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status: completed !
tagged: holly .
word count: 665 words.
outfit: click .
lyrics:
[/color][/font] say anything - marianas trenchtemplate to:[/color][/font] KARI BEAR !? of caution 2.0[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by holly-lynn moore on Apr 4, 2009 23:51:50 GMT -5
 I started something I couldn't finish
And if we go down we go down together ------------
Holly was firmly convinced that Hale secretly wanted to show her his poetry. Why else would he even mention it? He probably wanted a critic, or something...and Holly liked to think she was a pretty good critic. It was probably due to the fact that she had no issue with saying anything that was on her mind...even if it was kind of hurtful to some people. It wasn't really her fault, she wasn't trying to be mean when she did it, she just couldn't help but speak her mind most of the time. Though if she completely hated Hale's poetry she probably wouldn't say it...well, not in that rude of a way. She would probably force herself to think before she spoke (hey, it happened every so often), and try to tell him what she thought in a nicer way...or at least the nicest way possible. Because Holly was a nice person, she really was...most of the time. To say she wasn't ever a bitch, however, would be a definite lie. Although she was usually the sweet little Holly when anything even the least bit insulting came out so would her bad side.
Shutting her laptop she pushed it aside, sighing a little bit. She had just been about to get in her jammies and cuddle up in bed...well, cuddle up on the little couch in the tour bus. Probably not the most comfortable thing, but whatever. She stood up, pushing her hair behind her ears, and going into the bathroom to make sure she wasn't too hideous to go out in public. Of course she wasn't making sure she looked good for Hale, or anything like that. He was just Hale. But you never knew who you were going to see when you were walking down the street. And of course she was stuck walking, as Holly simply did not drive. Upon glancing at herself in the mirror she decided she was acceptable. Maybe she didn't have her usual amount of make-up on, but whatever. Her hair wasn't completely out of control, and she had just washed her face, so it was clean of make-up, and there were no eyeliner smudges.
Walking out of the small bathroom she slipped on her favorite pair of flip flops, before walking out the door. No jacket, or anything of the sort, of course. It was Summer, and it was California, and it was Holly, and even back in New York in the winter she wasn't one to wear such things.
It didn't take her long to reach the final destination, which was the apartment Hale was renting. Of course she had to make a quick stop in the middle and pick up some cotton candy and a hot dog. Her payment for forcing the guy to show her something he seemed so reluctant to show. Still, it couldn't have taken her too long. She was a fast walker, after all. And she was oddly excited. Actually, it wasn't that odd. Holly was almost always excited for some reason or another. Even if her reason for being so wasn't exactly the most legit. And this probably wasn't. She was getting all excited about reading her friend Hale's poetry. A little odd, really. Hale was like...a brother to her, or something. That was how she usually thought of him. Okay, other than when he was talking about showing her that he was a guy, that had been a bit odd, but she figured he'd been joking around.
Walking up to Hale's apartment with her usual smile on her face she hammered on the door, bouncing from foot to foot. As the door opened moments later she giggled, and shook her head at his expression, hardly even noticing that he didn't have a shirt on. No way was he getting out of this one. "No way." She said, pushing past him into the apartment. "You're not getting out of this one. You promised. And I brought the goods." She held out both the hot dog and cotton candy to him. "Although I do expect you to share that cotton candy with me. Sharing is caring." Where had she heard that stupid saying? Some gum commercial with a whale, she was pretty sure.
count; 737
lyrics; there's no I in team - taking back sunday
outfit; click
tags; hale
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Post by Hale Evans. on Apr 5, 2009 14:23:22 GMT -5
everybody wants a piece of you ,
everyone takes a piece of me . ----- He'd expected to be rejected from his puppy dog face. It never worked on anyone, not even his Mother. But he tried anyways. At least he got points for being cute, right? After she walked in, he took the hot dog as well as the cotton candy, and toed the door closed with his left foot. Sinking his teeth into the end of the hot dog, he let out a small sigh, almost glad he had made the deal. Boiled hot dogs never tasted the same as the hot dogs from the booths.
----- Mwah 're yuu so obsessed 'ith haring it?" Just like Hale, talking with his mouth full. Chewing a little more, he swallowed and looked towards Holly, knowing she'd know what he had meant for her to hear. His eyes moved from Holly, to the hot dog, to his cotton candy. Now she expected him to share, too? Women! Such needy and demanding creatures. Tossing her the bag, he moved over and plopped down onto one of his couches, ignoring the unattractive squeak it made. His couches were old, but everything else in the apartment was stable. Ish.
----- Taking another bite, he reached his hand into the front of his pants and pulled out the notebook, staring at the back cover of it for a moment. Frowning, he chewed slowly, buying him time. After all, she wouldn't want him to recite his poetry with a full mouth, would she? Wouldn't understand a thing, if he did. Swallowing, not wanting the food to turn into mush, he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't try and rush him into it. This was something he had written out of boredom, mostly, but it still had meaning. A lot of meaning into it.
----- Biting his bottom lip, he waited until she sat down beside him before he finished off the hot dog. When he was done swallowing, he turned to her and tried his hardest to smile, unsure of the emotion he was currently feeling. Was he nervous? Most likely. He didn't get nervous a lot, so the feeling wasn't as familiar as most of the others. Opening the book to it's mark, he glared down at the paper for a moment before pulling his glasses off his face, and resting them on the coffee tale in front of them. "I don't think you'll understand it, or anything. And there isn't much I can say that's going to make you get it, other than a few things here and there. Just . . . do me a favor? Don't laugh. It's not amazing, or anything. But, it's still mine."
----- Giving her one last look of insecurity, he sucked in a deep breath and turned to the book within his hands, his knuckles turning white again from the pressure he had from holding the notebook. Narrowing his eyelids, he opened his mouth to wet his lips, and before he could back out, he started to read the poetry out loud.
How long has it been since we talked? How long, since I needed you. You've never needed me, not once in the same way. But you've always listened. No matter the subject, you've listened. Through my sadness, through my anger. Through my serenity, through my content. I don't know what it is about you that causes me to love you so, but you're always there. Beautiful, ever present, changing, but always the same. Your calm blue light eases my soul. Your comforting darkness has always soothed my mind. Quiet. I long to embrace you, like I had in my dreams. Falling. Sailing through your silent night. Nothing to distract, nothing to bother. Just the moon, the stars, and myself. I was always falling, but you were always there. Wind rushing past my face, but no sound to penetrate that blissful peace. There would be no screams from my voice. No fear in my mind. Just the peace of mind to know that even if I hit the ground, there would never be another moment such as this.
I'm always falling, in one way or another. Yet you always catch me. I think to myself, how would it be to finally join you one day? To be there with you in that soothing silence, where nothing will ever disturb. Would I miss this world? Would I stay with you forever? You always give the same answer. And for that, I thank you. Your answer is neither helpful nor hurtful. Neither insightful or vague. But it's always what I want to hear. While we talk, I feel a pressure lifted off of me. Will you call me, I ask. I hear you, but I cannot reply. Nothing can. It would be a crime to break our vow. Our vow of silence in the dark. You embrace me. You become me. And suddenly, we are one. We have always been this way. But I am yet but another star in your vast sky. Another star among millions. But you accept me all the same. Unconditionally, I surrender to your embrace. I feel myself, lifted with you. Will I shine, I ask. Will I be as beautiful as the other stars that have joined you? No sound is made, but that's okay. No sound needs to be.
Drifting. Ever drifting through the air, the ground becomes small beneath me. But there is no need to look back. The pale blue light of the moon illuminates my world, heals my soul. It is soft, it is cold, it is soothing. As if everything was washed from my being. I do not need to be myself any longer. Yet I am free to be who I am. I am one with the moon and the stars. I am one with the earth and the sky. Halfway between the heavens, I gaze back down upon the place from which I came. And only one word can pass throughout my mind. Beautiful. The illustrious mountains are seen before me, bathed in the light that I myself belong. Shadows are cast, but they hide nothing. They do not need to. The ocean sparkles, waves calmly sifting forever amongst themselves. I gaze upon the land, the sea, and the endless sky before me. But before my eyes turn back, I notice one last thing. The earth is dotted with stars of its own. It's truly beautiful. My mouth moves, but no words come out. Lights. Street lamps, houses, cars, flashlights, candles, torches, cell phones, buildings, trees, everything and everyone beneath me. I am them. They are me. It suddenly hits me, though my loneliness and pain subside, their residue is still upon me. My realization washes over me, as the vastness of the earth appears, the sky pulling me further up towards itself. I am them. They are me. We are people.
These people share my life. They share their lives with me. Their individuality is mine. My uniqueness is theirs. It is our lives that bring us together. The stars behind me shine brilliantly. The world before me sparkles beautifully. I think to myself, how could I ever be alone? The world in itself holds multitudes of people. Each with their own stories, each with their own lives. But I share that with all of them, underneath the light of their own creation. They are special. So am I. The sky pulls me in. I am no longer breathing. I no longer need to. I feel them. I see them. I hear them. I am them. My silence is not broken. My heart has just spoken.
----- The entire time, Hale's voice had been drifting up and down, some lines almost making him stop to catch his breath, while other's he flew past with flying colours. When he was finally done, he nervously stole a glance from Holly's expression, hoping she wasn't snickering, or something that told him he was a total idiot. "When, I was a kid. I, didn't have a lot of friends. You know how kids are, you used to be one . . . I've always been interested in the sky. Used to talk to it, like it was a person. The clouds were our topics, the things that made me decide what to tell it when I was laying in the grass . . ." Hoping that had clear up most of her questions, Hale sighed and closed his eyes, closing the book and resting it in his lap, waiting for her commentary.
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status: completed !
tagged: holly .
word count: 1421 words.
outfit: click .
lyrics:
[/color][/font] say anything - marianas trenchtemplate to:[/color][/font] KARI BEAR !? of caution 2.0[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by holly-lynn moore on Apr 5, 2009 15:10:10 GMT -5
I started something I couldn't finish
And if we go down we go down together ------------
Even with his mouth full his question was a good one. Why was she so obsessed with hearing it? She honestly didn't know...although it was probably just because once she got her mind stuck on something it was hard to get it unstuck. Well, usually. She was admittedly easy to distract, usually, but in cases like these it wasn't so. Probably because he seemed so reluctant to show her...and yet he had caved so easily! It was really like taking candy from a baby. She told herself the reason he was showing her was either because she was just so damn persuasive, or he secretly wanted to show someone. She was leaning more towards the second one. Who didn't want to show off their art? And of course poetry was a form of art. Holly knew that when she ended up writing something she wanted to show everyone. And contrary to popular belief she did write..mostly songs, which she usually then forced upon anyone she could. Not that hard to do, really, when you're a musician. You kind of have the power to make most people listen, even if you shouldn't.
"I just want to." She said, with a shrug of her shoulders. "You don't really strike me as the poetry writing kinda guy. I'm curious." That was the truth, she was curious, and she hadn't known that Hale had written poetry. It was odd, as she liked to think they were fairly good friends, but the subject had never really come up. Probably because Holly didn't usually like to talk about such serious things as poetry, especially not with Hale. She had her occasion serious moments, mostly when she was upset, but she couldn't recall ever being like that around the guy. And she didn't really want to...being serious, she found, was the best way to lose friends. Which was why she preferred to act happy and giggly all the time. Or at least a big portion of it.
As she watched him chew slowly it was obvious he was buying time, but she said nothing. Even if she was usually the kind of person to rush things she wasn't going to rush him on this. So she forced herself not to let out a loud sigh, or yell at him to hurry up and stop being such a pansy. When he finally went and sat down she allowed a smile to spread over her face. Well, even more of a smile. An unexplained smile, as she shouldn't have been so excited about hearing the poetry, but she was Holly. Smiles needed to explanations, really. So she just bounced herself over to the couch and sat next to him, pulling her feet up and crossing her legs. Sitting cross legged always made her feel safer, and to be frank, Hale's couch did the opposite effect. It was old, and she didn't know how sturdy it was. It would certainly not be a good couch for jumping on. Why was it so hard to find couches to jump on lately? They were all either too firm, or you'd get yelled at by whoever they belonged to. It was kind of upsetting to Holly.
"Of course I won't laugh." She promised, trying to peek over his shoulder to see his written words. She couldn't believe he was actually going to read it to her...she'd figured he would probably try to force her to read it in her head. Then again she had brought the hot dog, as promised, so she would have at least tried to make him read it. That was another thing she didn't really know why she was so set on...other than that it would make it more personal. But it was really odd that she cared in the least, if you thought about it. Most people wouldn't think Holly was deep enough to care about poetry at all...or smart enough, as people liked to think she was an idiot. But in reality she usually just acted loud, and wild, and childish because it was easier than facing life.
As he started reading she forced herself to focus on her words. Something that was hard for her to do at first, as she was incredibly distracted most of the time. But soon she found herself being swept up into them, listening closely to the sound of his voice, which was obviously nervous, but who could blame him? But Holly didn't have any trouble understanding him, even if his speed of talking did get a bit out of control at times. But she knew one thing, even if she didn't quite understand what it was about, it was a good poem. Hale was a good writer, even if she hadn't thought he was going to be. Well, you get surprises every day.
When he finished she just looked at him for a moment, barely even listening to what he said, and yet she heard him. The poem made much more sense after he explained what it was about, and yet she found herself looking at him in a slightly different light. He'd never told her about any of that...probably because she never asked. Or he didn't think she'd be interested. Or both. She didn't really know what to say...she wasn't going to tell him to change anything, but she couldn't bring herself to say that it was good, in the blunt childish way she often said things. As he closed his eyes she let her own scan his face, before tilting her head to the side. After a few seconds she knew she should probably say something before he thought she hated it, and was trying to think of a nice way to say it, or something.
"It...I liked it." She said, honestly, not really knowing what else to say. "It didn't make much sense until you explained it, but it was well written, and it was just...well, I liked it. To be honest...I didn't think it would be that good..." Even if she wasn't exactly being Serious Holly she also wasn't wearing her big smile, or joking around, or even talking in her overly loud voice. Her voice was what most would consider an inside voice, which was really a great achievement for her.
count; 1092
lyrics; there's no I in team - taking back sunday
outfit; click
tags; hale
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