#aprompt

[oldethanwayde-blog]

Bahahaha. Panty Raid.

[OOC: Would have written more, but I wanted to avoid godmodding.]

[tw: inappropriate underwear]

It was late in the afternoon, and all of the students in Aquatics were grabbing their towels, toweling off their heads by the poolside. Ethan rubbed at his dark hair, which was dripping wet, and he took a sip from his bottle of water.

Granted, there was a large body of water in front of him, but there was no telling what substances would be mixed in there. Besides the dreadful amounts of chlorine, Ethan knew that many kids were too lazy to get up out of the water and pee, so they just did it then and there. He wasn’t going to deny that he hadn’t done it before, but Ethan wasn’t going to tarnish whatever scraps of reputation he might have by blurting it out in front of the whole damned aquatics class.

The swim coach blew his whistle, and Ethan’s blue eyes flitted up to the clock. It was exactly 4:45, which gave him at least ten minutes to kill in the boy’s locker room. He saw the kids from running class filing into their respective locker rooms, and Ethan figured that he would best get in, too. The kids from Running usually hogged the hot water.

The boy’s locker room was a sight, and smell, in all of it’s glory. It reeked- but it’s musk couldn’t be identified by any mortal nose. The most accurate description Ethan had ever heard was long forgotten, as he had been in freshman year, those days. It went somewhere along the lines of “sweat, piss, and stale Axe.” It wasn’t an understatement, no. All those sweaty kids in there used to make Ethan’s stomach churn, but he was used to it, by now.

He walked over to the showers and rinsed off. A quick 5-minute shower usually did it for him. If you took any longer than 5 minutes in the shower, someone usually came to steal your clothes. But, if people were especially cruel, they’d take your clothes all the same.

Ethan wrapped his towel around his waist and sashayed out from behind the curtain, and a tall, lanky fellow hopped into the shower.

Walking over to his locker, Ethan cranked it open, spinning the dial on his lock. But when he peered inside, Ethan jerked away, his eyes watering. Oh God, the smell! It was so strong, and Ethan stumbled back onto the bench.

Someone had Axe-bombed his locker, and Ethan could hear snickers from behind him.

He had to think, fast. His locker was where he kept all of his clean underwear. But if he wore any of that shit, his crotch would probably catch fire. That wouldn’t be a very good thing, since Ethan would have liked to be a father.

So he did only what was necessary- he stole underpants from the bench. A pair of dark maroon underwear with horns on the groin.

Ethan felt awkward for the rest of the day, knowing that his underpants weren’t really his. Later, in detention, Ethan would find out that Dante was missing a pair of boxers with the same design.

"That’s very interesting," Ethan replied nervously as he faced forward, staring at the clock. He felt the demon boy staring holes into the back of his neck -or was that just his anxiety seeping in?

Later, Ethan snuck up to the Osprey dorms. It was just after curfew, and no one would possibly be able to catch him. He’d snuck out plenty of times before, and it was no problem tonight. Tentatively he, duct-taped Dante’s underwear onto his door. He stuck a post-it note right between the horns that read:

THANKS FOR THE GOOD TIME.

XOXO,

KEVIN

[mywinonahaha]

dream a little dream of me

stars shining bright above you night breezes seem to whisper, "i love you" birds singing in the sycamore tree dream a little dream of me. 

to those that truly knew aaron asher, they knew that for years his most prized possession wasn't his guitar. it wasn't even a plural amount of guitars, or the rest of his ever growing collection of instruments. it was, however, kept in the small storage room with the rest of his musical fantasies. it came in the form of a of what appeared to be a small, square box made of wood, but you'd swear that magic happened when the top of it was opened. at least, by the way that lanky young man poured over it. he called it his music box because that's what it technically was. but in real technicalities, it was a record player that he salvaged from a local thrift store when he was still in high school, still in remarkable condition. it would be no surprise if it served more of a purpose to him than to its original owner.

say nighty night and kiss me just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me while i'm alone and blue as can be dream a little dream of me 

it also wasn't much of a surprise that he had an impressive record collection for a man in his twenties. after all, he had served his time working in a record store. evenings in the household were more often than not laced with songs from his beloved music box. and tonight, tonight was no exception. in fact, it was expected. you see, he was packing a suitcase because california was beckoning his name. there was a record to be made, and some family to visit in those days. their room was currently turned upside down as he pulled clothes from piled and tried to sloppily fold them to fit in his suitcase, but he see to be more occupied with singing along to his record of the day: the mamas & the papas.

stars fading but i linger on dear still craving your kiss i'm longing to linger til dawn dear just saying this 

what was different was the guilt that made his stomach heavy. similarly, there was a certain sort of envy that he knew was boiling inside of emily. both because he was going out to california, both because of his reasoning to fly across the country in the first place. what wasn't different was his own means of cheering her up.

sweet dreams til sunbeams find you sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you but in your dreams, whatever they be dream a little dream of me 

his voice was low in comparison to that of mama cass, but it created the sweetest of harmonies to bounce off of the walls, through the hallway and into emily's studio just a few doors down where she stood frustrated before a blank canvas. just where he left her, just as he saw her as he peered through the crack in the door. quietly, slowly he opened the door, and walked up behind her, snaking an arm around her waist. he could taste the bittersweet smile upon her lips before he could spin her around.

stars fading but i linger on dear still craving your kiss i'm longing to linger til dawn dear just saying this

he steered her close by the hips as their eyes met and naturally they brought their hands together. she stood on his feet, but that still left room for him to rest his chin on the top of her head as it rest against his chest. so slowly he carried them in a circle, softly singing along and smiling as he heard her voice chime in. yes aaron loved his beloved music box, but not nearly as much as he loved his one and only.

sweet dreams til sunbeams find you sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you but in your dreams, whatever they be dream a little dream of me 

[mywinonahaha]

part 2

"how many times have you tried to call her?"

i refuse to look up at her and instead pretend to not hear her while i begin to wrap my fingers tightly around my phone.

"aaron."

"cheyenne."

"give me your phone."

i shake my head. she won't know that i've tried to talk to her tonight, how many times i've been sent straight to voicemail, how many times i've repeated my actions just to hear her voice. because i miss her, and it's embarrassing. it's just as embarrassing as the fact that my sister has been checking up on me without any warning.

she pries the phone from my fingers and walks away from me. i know that she's checking. i know that she knows, she knows that i know. she doesn't make a comment. her only response is to turn it off and hide it until what i'm assuming will be when she leaves.

i sit here, on the kitchen floor with my back against the fridge. cheyenne walks through the apartment, mumbling and grumbling and bitterly telling me that i'm a grown man, that i should be able to take care of myself. i repress the urge to tell her that this is the first time that i've ever truly been alone.

----

"i think it was more difficult in the beginning, you know. and quiet. she didn't take the cat, so i mean i still have him. but i just… i don't know. i accepted it? there wasn't really anything that i could do other than that."

it doesn't sting as much to talk about her as it did before. it's been a while. i stopped counting the months after winter ended. it's summer now.

i know that this makes her happy, and that fact settles well with me. i hated that my sister felt like she was obliged to take care of me. i hated that the vast majority of the people that i once talked to on a daily basis grew away from me, but looking back i don't blame them. i was cold and i wouldn't speak to them. no one wants to be around a self depreciating twenty-something. i just wish that they would have told me.

i moved out of the apartment. it was only holding me back. i packed all of my things, got a u-haul and moved into a house across town. i even brought the cat with me. i've spent the past few months renovating and changing, painting and flooring. that's how i've spent my time. and now, to celebrate, i'm adding the finishing touch.

"i'm happy for you and all, but hey- come look at her!"

i glance over to cheyenne and see her fingers poking through the fence while a pink tongue eagerly licks at them. inside is a dog with no distinguishable breed. light and dark brown striped trace across her back, and she stands no taller than my thighs as she stands on her two hind legs, her front paws clinging to the wire fence. a chunk of one of her pointed ears is missing and there's a bald patch on her tail. and she's not barking. she's silent, happy. i read the sign on the gate.

"hi, lucy."

----

as summer turns to fall, i finally have a daily routine again. i wake up in the morning, go through typical morning things, and then i feed the cat and dog, go to work, and then when i come home i take lucy for a walk. how far and how long mostly depends on how tired we are. today has found us walking through the park.

we pass through the jungle gyms and the children laughing and screaming around them. through the groups of parents who are kind of sort of supervising. by an elderly couple on a bench, and a few more people out on their own mostly keeping to themselves. some read, some wait, one draws while their hair creates a curtain over their face.

"aaron?"

i freeze and turn in place while lucy tugs at the end of the leash.

"emily."

[mywinonahaha]

i lied

i didn't think that it would ever come to this.

it's weird to watch your whole world fall apart from the sofa in the living room, to not be able to get up from your place and to stop it all. it stings deep down in the pit of my stomach, but i'm numb. i can't feel my face, my legs, my fingers. i don't speak, because with any word could come vomit. 

"i don't think we can do this anymore." her voice, so soft, rings distantly in my ears. i still hear it over the commotion in the next room, echoing in my head as drawers open and close. we've had months building up to this exact point, months of arguing and distancing and lack of communication. months of dysfunction, and all i can focus on is that one sentence.

and instead of trying to stop her, i'm letting it happen.

i don't know how she managed to pack it all, but it's there. her half of the luggage set duo that we never thought we'd use, a wedding gift from my aunt and uncle, is packed as tightly as it can go and all placed by the door. even the cat appears to be worked up as he trails behind her for each trip that she makes to gather her belongings throughout the apartment. he could change her mind if he could talk, or at least convince her to take him with her.

and then she's done. the last of the luggage is wheeled to the door, to join her cluster of belongings. for a moment she hesitates. she catches my gaze, and she knows that i'm watching. she knows what i'm thinking before i even realize that's where my mind has gone. she's walking to me with a look on her face that i can't recognize. the fingers on her right hand wrap around those on her left, pull, and there it is.

it's disappointment. i must have missed it before, but as she stands above me that's all i see.

maybe now is my time to speak. maybe i can. but as try, she reaches out to grab my right hand with hers, flattening my palm and then pressing a band of warm metal into it. "for what it's worth, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." and she chokes, maybe. i can't be too certain. i'm focused on what's in my hand, what should be hers. and then i'm standing with my arms wrapped tightly around her and my eyes stinging. i close them, roughly bury my face into the side of her head.

"aaron,"

she can't leave.

"my ride's here…"

i won't let her.

but it's silent now, just me, the cat, and the ring.