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Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2013 1:21:15 GMT
Arms crossed, mouth set in its usual line, furrowed brow. Leslie’s eyes were fixed on the tv screen, where a man and a woman were speaking to each other on the deck of a boat. The scene looked quite normal…except for the fact that the thirty-two year old had tears streaming from his tired-looking eyes.
If anybody happened to walk in, they would’ve found the image hilarious, although nobody would’ve dared to laugh in front of the secretary, lest they wished to have their teeth knocked out and their head embedded into the door.
He reached over for a tissue, blowing his nose fiercely. “…Hey,” he said quietly, addressing the sole other occupant of the room. “Turn the volume up a bit.” CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE |
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Post by NEVADA RAINES on Aug 25, 2013 22:56:04 GMT
like a dream, like a sigh Not right now lay down lay down Not so tough found out found out Sitting still as stone beside the other impassive usually man, Nevada fought back the flow of tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Choked back sobs tore at the back of his throat. But he continued to hold them back with a set jaw and clenched teeth. He wouldn’t, he refused to cry. Leslie had already let tears fall and he shouldn’t have felt shame in crying. It was just him and Leslie, no trace of Angel or Cassiopeia. That was the reason they popped in Titanic. Nevada wouldn’t cry, no matter how tragic the scene, however, the tears soon became too much to hold back. A stream spilled down his cheeks as he fought to reign in his emotions. He reached for a tissue, waiting as his companion too grabbed one. The man blew his nose and nodded. Where was that remote? He looked around before spotting it on the table, clicking the volume up. “Is this good?” Nevada tried to dry his tears with the back of his hand. CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 28, 2013 6:22:20 GMT
"Yeah," Leslie mumbled, drying his eyes carefully with another tissue. It felt good to be able to watch these kinds of movies with his friend, without having to suffer the scathing and mocking comments of Cassiopeia and Angel. Sometimes he wondered why anyone would name that devil Angel of all things. The prostitute probably enjoyed making his life a living nightmare, and he didn't understand how Nevada could stand his presence. Just working with Cassiopeia was bad enough for the secretary.
The scene changed, and Leslie found himself crying even harder than before when the couple were forced to part on the sinking ship. "God, why the hell is this movie so tragic?" He muttered, a hand clinging to Nevada's shoulder in a lousy attempt for comfort. CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE |
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Post by NEVADA RAINES on Sept 4, 2013 2:36:59 GMT
like a dream, like a sigh Not right now lay down lay down Not so tough found out found out Fingers curling into the clothes of his companion’s sleeve, Nevada tried to hold back the tears threating to spill over the rim of his eyes. He blinked and sucked back sharp breathes. But, in the end, the tears came in streams down his rosy cheeks. Nevada’s heart was breaking for the two lovers on the sinking ship. He had seen the movie enough to know how it ended, which only made it all the more painful to watch. “Why did we choose to watch this film?” He sniveled. The writer of the movie was cruel for making it so agonizing. No matter how many times he watched it, he could never desensitize himself to the tragedy that unfolded in its one hundred and ninety-four minutes. He was thankful for Leslie’s company during this viewing. Nevada felt less ashamed of his tears with the man weeping beside him. Angel surely would have been cackling away at his show of tears. “It does not get easier to watch.” He mumbled, dabbing his tear streaked cheeks with a tissue. CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE |
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demigod
with 311 posts
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| we were raised kings of nowhere |
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Post by ANGEL ALESSI on Sept 4, 2013 5:36:07 GMT
creepin' up the backstairs Mother's nightmares Falling in the front door,
My my
Keys were a hassle, but it was nice to not bother with them. The security man let him in - Angel was very visibly drunk, and the faster he got up to the penthouse the less chance he would throw up in the lobby. Angel giggled and waved as the doors pinged shut behind him, hands lapping at the mirrored walls before he reached the top floor and stumbled out. The door was open, though he leaned forward too much when he twisted the knob, and he was thrown off balance when the door swung open. He made a shreik-y, startled noise before he sat up. The penthouse was darkened, but Nevada couldn't be sleeping yet. Angel's eyes were drawn to the glow of the television screen, and he stared at it, more at the lights and colours than what was going on in the movie. Like a moth to a flame, he got to his feet and made his way closer, though the colours and lights lost his interest quickly enough. People were crying - in real life. Angel plopped onto the couch, stretching out to sprawl across its length with no regard as to what or who was already there. He could feel warm bodies and jutting bones and hard muscles and soft skins and fabrics and he rolled around on this bed of people. Then he realized. "Nev," He sat bolt upright suddenly. "You're crying."@leslie NEVADA RAINES |
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