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Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2013 21:37:02 GMT
| blame it on the girls who know what to do blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you blame it on your mother for the things she said blame it on your dad but you know he's dead |  |
The counter was far too high for Clara's liking. What the hell was wrong with this shop? It made her feel more like a little kid than she already did think so, and she almost wanted to pull out the eyes on that bitch of a shop assistant's out of their sockets and eat them with pepper and salt for breakfast. So she shoved the clothes she wanted onto the counter and placed her debit card onto the counter. With that, her expression changed, as Clara gave her the blessing of her middle finger. "Yeah, and I want them wrapped too, stupid!" Sticking out her tongue, she leaned back from the counter to stare at her taller cousin. "What the hell are you looking at, JAMIE?" JAMIE MARTINELLILAIKA OF GANGNAM STYLE! |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2013 0:45:22 GMT
He didn't know how he ended up trailing after his cousin, loaded down with shopping bags. Actually, he knew exactly how it happened. The same way it always did - Clara came over, Clara ran into him, Clara pushed him around and pulled him along.
Jamie had homework to be doing - he only remembered it now because it was one of the many things he'd rather be doing than playing pack mule for a family member. But of course, he wouldn't protest. Clara was much more important than he was, anyways. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he stood by the counter, staring down at his feet.
His head snapped up at the sound of his name. Kind of up. He was tall and lanky and looking down on Clara, though dominance and height didn't necessarily correspond. He swallowed. "N-nothing. Sorry." |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2013 17:33:44 GMT
| blame it on the girls who know what to do blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you blame it on your mother for the things she said blame it on your dad but you know he's dead | |
Clara gave him a glare, and folded her arms. She'd never admit pushing Jamie around made her feel better, because it was her duty as the older cousin to make sure he did duties for his family, duh. "Thought so." She huffed, as another shopping assistant (one with more brains, evidently) took the wrapped up clothes and handed the bags to her personally, along with her card and a card reader. Tapping in the numbers with her other hand covering it, she pulled out the card and huffed, giving the new shop assistant a dirty look. "Thank you for your custom, we hope to see you again!" She chirped, probably knowing full well that wasn't likely. Clara ignored her, and held out her new bag in front of her, facing Jamie. "Come to my height, fool!" She snapped, not wanting to emphasise her height at all but finding no other way to do so. JAMIE MARTINELLILAIKA OF GANGNAM STYLE! |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 20, 2013 18:55:56 GMT
| Jamie pressed his lips together, lowered his head. He could hear the beeping cash register, the crinkling paper that already seemed lodged in his head from the past he-forgot-how-many stores they'd been in.
He didn't look at Clara, because she terrified him. She had a way of carrying herself, a way of speaking, a way of breathing that made her imposing, and more than made up for her height. Jamie was tall for his age, but he was about as imposing as a dandelion stalk swaying in the wind. He had just about as much backbone.
When she ordered him around, he did look at her – he didn't have much choice. He bent his knees, lowered himself awkwardly, hunched; and took the bag from her. His fingertips were red where the handles of all the shopping bags had left their mark. He yawned, didn't cover his mouth as he ought to because his arms were so weighed down.
|  @clara |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 20, 2013 21:25:11 GMT
| blame it on the girls who know what to do blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you blame it on your mother for the things she said blame it on your dad but you know he's dead | |
From what she'd seen of her younger - but annoying taller - cousin, Clara could only come to one conclusion: that he was soft. Soft like mozzarella that melted so smoothly onto margaritas, and therefore he melded into people's demands and gave them what they wanted. And truthfully speaking, if her punchbag came into the shape of a scrawny sleep deprived younger cousin Jamie, Clara didn't mind, nor care less. People were supposed to do her bidding. That was their purpose in the world. The small snow white haired girl narrowed her eyes and shook her head disapprovingly. Without a word, she took the bag he took from her, and placed it around his neck instead. The string was long enough, anyway. "Who gave you permission to do anything other than follow my instructions, fool? Also, are you trying to get me to smell your disgusting breath? How repulsive! UGH, I'M SICK TO DEATH OF ALL OF THIS." Flipping her hair, she began to walk out the shop. "COME ON THEN, WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!"JAMIE MARTINELLILAIKA OF GANGNAM STYLE! |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 22, 2013 6:29:04 GMT
| Jamie's lips parted and moved as if he might say something. He didn't, of course. Just bowed his head when she strung a bag around his neck. He might have felt embarrassed if he hadn't given up on pride and dignity long ago. He winced, her shouting was enough to terrify him into making a frightened squeak of a noise, for him to jump and his shoulders to hunch.
He swallowed, flexing his sore fingers a moment before taking up all the bags and following Clara out the store. As quickly as possible, lest he be chided for going to slow, which he probably would be anyways.
| @clara |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2013 14:41:04 GMT
| blame it on the girls who know what to do blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you blame it on your mother for the things she said blame it on your dad but you know he's dead | |
She had deftly ignored the startled gazes of the shop assistants and their whispers amongst each other as they left the classy shop. Shiny glass windows seemed to sparkle in the autumn sun, and there wasn't many people around this area. Luxury shops like these ones were often found near empty, even on Saturday afternoons. Their main clientele were a selective bunch, after all. Clara had the odd habit of walking like a Queen. Her polished shoes clicked clicked on the almost empty pavement, arms not carrying a single bag. She heard Jamie's footsteps follow behind her with a suitable distance, and her heart leapt, knowing that everything was in place. And with that, she turned around as suddenly as she did, smiling devilishly. "Let's go have lunch, Jamie." She said with an odd grace in her words. "I know a marvelous place, on the other side of town."Maybe she was doing it all deliberately, to push his buttons, see when he'd snap. Because they both knew, if he snapped, the consequences were most dire. JAMIE MARTINELLILAIKA OF GANGNAM STYLE! |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 31, 2013 1:58:42 GMT
| Jamie didn't remember the last time he'd ever shopped for his own clothes. His clothes were always just there, and he didn't know if he'd brought them or if they were new or old. He just wore what was there without a fuss. But Clara was all about fuss, and he was expecting something of an explosion when she turned so suddenly. He froze in his tracks.
"Uh," he nodded, and his stomach did a backflip out of pure dread. His body might drop by then, against the will of his subservient mind.
Of course he wasn't going to disobey Clara, and the best he could manage was a meager offer in a soft croak that faded into uncertain silence as he reached the end of his sentence. "Are you sure you want to, uh, walk that far? Maybe…call…taxi…"
| @clara |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 24, 2013 12:47:41 GMT
| blame it on the girls who know what to do blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you blame it on your mother for the things she said blame it on your dad but you know he's dead | |
"Humf." Clara looked away and folded her arms. She'd never admit she was just trying to get a look of pure, unfiltered despair on her cousin's usually sleepy and apathetic face. "If you drop it, I'm going to turn your insides into smoked meat." She threatened calmly, raising an eyebrow. "And it's a taxi, I've been living in Italy and I have better English than you!" She pointed accusingly. She fished her flip-phone out of her pocket, and threw it in Jamie's general direction. As good as she was shopping for expensive branded clothes, as bad as she was with technology. She believed in utilitarian goods when it came to phones, computers, and other things. JAMIE MARTINELLI LAIKA OF GANGNAM STYLE! |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 1, 2013 4:40:25 GMT
| His feet were dragging already, and he stared down at the ground, scuffing his shoes while he followed.
"Mm-hmm..." He didn't doubt she would go through with the threat. Clara was hardly the sweet young girl she looked to be. Jamie was hardly as imposing as he was tall. "R-right." He murmured. Sometimes he forgot grammar in the face of fear, but he hardly cared about coming off as intelligent as much as he did not incuring Clara's wrath.
Too late.
He realized this with an absent sort of defeat as the cell phone flew past his head. His arms were loaded down, and anyways, he was too slow. It seemed to happen in slow motion, the phone slamming into the pavement, the casing splitting open as it bounced.
His first instinct was to run - flight, always flight - but Jamie managed to catch himself, though not before he let the shopping bags drop from his hands, staring at Clara with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
| @clara |
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