LOA_Muscle
Virgin
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2014
- Posts
- 8
Please PM interest. Include a character biography and a sample first post in your message. My SRP profile is in my signature. Please read this before replying.
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Adam's brain felt as shriveled as a discarded Christmas walnut found behind the sideboard in July. The dehydrated nerves twanged painfully inside his skull as he struggled to open his eyes. The malicious glare of the midday sun made him regret it almost instantly. Attempting to dislodge the crust that had embellished his eyes overnight, he forced herself up in bed. His stomach gave an ominous gurgle, threatening to give his a more physical demonstration of why it isn't a good idea to share a full crate of beer with your best friend on an empty stomach before enjoying several inexpertly mixed almost-White Russians and a couple of whiskey nightcaps. 'Coffee,' he thought, 'that will sort me out.'
Tumbling out of bed and narrowly avoiding smacking his head on the desk, he was surprised to discover he was still wearing his shoes. Kicking them off, he pulled on her jogging shorts and BSU hoodie. He kept his gaze firmly averted from the traitorous mirror. Nobody could be friends with their reflection on a day like this.
Delicately he traversed his way through the piles of recycling and laundry that cluttered the hall. He could hear the cat meowing somewhere and hoped it wasn't trapped beneath another pile of newspapers. Hands sticking out from his sides like a tight-rope walker he was cursing himself for not changing the lightbulb when a streak of white fur dashed out in front of him making him lose his balance and go crashing into the mountain bike propped precariously against the wall. The resulting noise must have been loud enough to wake his flatmate and he winced at his inconsideration (after all, she'd had a heavy night too), as well the pain from the graze on his shin as he limped towards her room to check. Of course it was her stupid bike so it was her own stupid fault if she got rudely awakened by it; he thought bitterly as he felt a trickle of blood run down to his foot.
He could see a crack of light coming from her partly opened door and breathed a mental sigh of relief. At least he hadn't woken her but who the hell pisses around with Linux at this hour on a Sunday morning?
Once in the kitchen, trying to forget the inhospitable wasteland that nine hours of drinking had made of their living room, he stuck the kettle on to boil and got out two mugs. Most people might not have had such a crisis of conscience over waking up their flatmate at 11.45, and Adam had never been that sort of overly-cautious co-habitor that tiptoes around mouse-like afraid to cause any offence. But he owed Jen a hell of a lot for putting him up here and he had also never been one to be unmindful when a great favour was bestowed upon him. After his ex had kicked him out of their flat, refusing to give him back his share of the deposit, Jen swooped in to catch him as he fell. She offered him shelter and respite from the pain. She listened to his rail against the injustice of losing his flat to the cheating fucker who wasn't content to destroy everything good in her own life but felt the need to turn against everyone close to her. She listened to her moan over his lost DVDs, sound system and the Nike trainers he'd accidentally left under the bed, as well as a good two years of his life. With the patience and calm of Phra Kaew she dissipated the fire that smouldered inside him, threatening to consume him and blacken his soul. She stopped him from turning into a pile of resentful ash and for that he would always be grateful.
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Adam's brain felt as shriveled as a discarded Christmas walnut found behind the sideboard in July. The dehydrated nerves twanged painfully inside his skull as he struggled to open his eyes. The malicious glare of the midday sun made him regret it almost instantly. Attempting to dislodge the crust that had embellished his eyes overnight, he forced herself up in bed. His stomach gave an ominous gurgle, threatening to give his a more physical demonstration of why it isn't a good idea to share a full crate of beer with your best friend on an empty stomach before enjoying several inexpertly mixed almost-White Russians and a couple of whiskey nightcaps. 'Coffee,' he thought, 'that will sort me out.'
Tumbling out of bed and narrowly avoiding smacking his head on the desk, he was surprised to discover he was still wearing his shoes. Kicking them off, he pulled on her jogging shorts and BSU hoodie. He kept his gaze firmly averted from the traitorous mirror. Nobody could be friends with their reflection on a day like this.
Delicately he traversed his way through the piles of recycling and laundry that cluttered the hall. He could hear the cat meowing somewhere and hoped it wasn't trapped beneath another pile of newspapers. Hands sticking out from his sides like a tight-rope walker he was cursing himself for not changing the lightbulb when a streak of white fur dashed out in front of him making him lose his balance and go crashing into the mountain bike propped precariously against the wall. The resulting noise must have been loud enough to wake his flatmate and he winced at his inconsideration (after all, she'd had a heavy night too), as well the pain from the graze on his shin as he limped towards her room to check. Of course it was her stupid bike so it was her own stupid fault if she got rudely awakened by it; he thought bitterly as he felt a trickle of blood run down to his foot.
He could see a crack of light coming from her partly opened door and breathed a mental sigh of relief. At least he hadn't woken her but who the hell pisses around with Linux at this hour on a Sunday morning?
Once in the kitchen, trying to forget the inhospitable wasteland that nine hours of drinking had made of their living room, he stuck the kettle on to boil and got out two mugs. Most people might not have had such a crisis of conscience over waking up their flatmate at 11.45, and Adam had never been that sort of overly-cautious co-habitor that tiptoes around mouse-like afraid to cause any offence. But he owed Jen a hell of a lot for putting him up here and he had also never been one to be unmindful when a great favour was bestowed upon him. After his ex had kicked him out of their flat, refusing to give him back his share of the deposit, Jen swooped in to catch him as he fell. She offered him shelter and respite from the pain. She listened to his rail against the injustice of losing his flat to the cheating fucker who wasn't content to destroy everything good in her own life but felt the need to turn against everyone close to her. She listened to her moan over his lost DVDs, sound system and the Nike trainers he'd accidentally left under the bed, as well as a good two years of his life. With the patience and calm of Phra Kaew she dissipated the fire that smouldered inside him, threatening to consume him and blacken his soul. She stopped him from turning into a pile of resentful ash and for that he would always be grateful.
