As soon as his body tensed, Wendy knew she had made a serious mistake. She silently berated herself, opening her mouth to reply to his simple, one-worded response, but shutting it quickly, realizing that was how she got in trouble in the first place. Watching him slide off the desk, Wendy almost flinched, wondering if he was the type of person to beat someone up because they had made him angry. We’re at a school, she reminded herself, a weak reassuring statement. Except he’s apparently very good with his reflexes, she remembered the ease with which he had tossed the paper, and was imagining the ways he could fling her around just as easily when he spoke again. “My mother says one day it will get me in trouble,” she replied, glancing up at him, following his circling with her eyes.
Wendy turned to face him, still unsure if he was safe to not look at. She had heard stories, plenty of stories from her friends back home, about the vicious nature of Americans, and although she hadn’t quite figured out where he was from, he seemed to carry the air Americans were supposed to have. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Wendy said in response to his sentence about disliking Eric, “at least it isn’t permanent?” She offered, unsure if that was true. Her eyes widened at his use of the coarse language, and she looked down quickly, hoping she wasn’t blushing. It was still so odd for her to hear the ease with which the students here used language like that. “Oh. I can see where that would be…a problem…” Wendy replied, glancing back up at him, eyes flickering around before landing on his.
She pressed her lips together, leaning back in the chair as his question reminded her of the impending assignment and her failure to succeed up to this point. Wendy practically glared at the paper, picking up her pencil again and scratching out the prompt. The hallway was silent…she sighed, glancing back up at Stitch. “I have to write a story. Which normally wouldn’t be difficult, but for some reason tonight, I have managed to lose the ability to write.” She shook her head, fingers moving to twist around a piece of hair, a nervous habit she had developed upon arriving. “Which wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t due tomorrow.” Wendy finished, her demure shock melting away, replaced by the now-familiar frustration of writer’s block.
An amused smirk reached Stitch’s lips at her comment. “It easily could if you say the wrong thing to the wrong people.” He said trying to imagine what kind of trouble her tongue could get her in. Though he was a little curious about the girl in front of him. She did her best to remain relatively calm around him, but he could sense in her eyes that there was a little fear. Something he didn’t mind - or at the very least was used to. He stopped and caught her gaze, his features clearly unamused, but he quickly changed that as he realized she was new. She didn’t know him, and probably didn’t know better. He relaxed and shrugged his shoulders, his hand casually waving off her apology about his roommate situation.
His attention and his amusement was peaked even more when she seemed to grow a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, you can imagine how I’m not his favorite guy in the world since I boned his girl.” He said not meaning to make it sound so crude. Ariel wasn’t just some girl he boned, he knew that. But the way Wendy seemed to look physically uncomfortable with how he talked about it, he couldn’t help himself. When she glanced down for a second before returning her eyes back up at him, his smirk was screwed on his face with the obvious interest in her reactions.
Stitch draped his arms over the back of his seat and continued to watch as she tried to write but nothing seemed to actually form on her paper. “Homework…” He nodded not actually caring about her assignment. His work was done hours ago, and he tried to think what made her assignment so hard. Writing a story. “Write about a murder. Sad stories always make the best stories.” He suggested as he stood up and moved so he could hover behind her and get a better look at what she was writing. He glanced down and then stood back up before he walked around the room idly. He was probably not helping with her assignment and being more of a distraction. “Kidnapped, despair of no one caring, hope, then death. Done.” He said not even bothered with how morbid his idea of a story sounded.
(Source: lqfabrayic, via lqfabrayic)
When Wendy didn’t hear the paper fall to the ground, she was a little alarmed, almost afraid to turn around to see where it had gone. Several explanations ran through her head, most of them absolutely ridiculous (portals to another world being the first thought, humans with superhuman speed being the second). Mustering up her courage, she glanced over her shoulder, jumping a little when she saw the boy standing in the doorway. When he spoke, she pressed her lips together. She knew it had been a waste of paper, but she just couldn’t stand looking at her failures glaring up at her. The scratched out words were a reminder of what she couldn’t do, and it frustrated Wendy to no end.
“Yes, but erasing words doesn’t give the same effect as crumpling it up and tossing it. Erasing as angrily as throwing would just end with a hole in the paper, and then aren’t we just where we started?” Wendy replied, lifting an eyebrow before turning back to her new, empty sheet.
Hearing the paper thud in the trash can, her other eyebrow raised, the irony of him throwing the paper away after he had scolded her for ‘wasting’ it not lost on her. She chose not to comment, instead letting her pencil drift over the top corner of her page, a light doodle of the flag Captain Hook flew on his ship appearing. Flipping her pencil over, she erased it easily, watching the boy walk around to one of the desks. Stitch. She had heard his name before, it seemed familiar to her, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. That happens a lot here, she observed, remembering her run-in with Pocahontas. It had come to her soon enough with the other girl, so hopefully it would happen again with Stitch. “I’m Wendy,” she replied, glancing up at him with a polite smile. As she looked at him, it hit her.
“You’re the boy! The boy who doesn’t like his roommate. It stirred up a lot of fuss on Tumblr.” She exclaimed, before quickly shutting her mouth. He might still be sensitive about the subject, she realized three sentences too late, and it would be rude of her to bring it up. Too late, she thought regretfully, her teeth sinking into her lower lip nervously. “Sorry.” She mumbled, glancing back down at her page.
Stitch stifled a chuckle as she jumped at his presence. Such simple things could really amuse him. He nodded his head a little as she explained why she threw the paper away instead of erasing and ignore the curious look on her face when he tossed it out. He thought about saying something in regards to it but decided that it was better not to. He instead looked around the room and then back at her. It was odd that she choose an open classroom to do her work in rather her dorm room or even the library. Why an empty classroom? A question he decided to save for later if his interest held. He nodded his head at her. Wendy. Right he’d seen her before around the school grounds but never made any attempt to contact her mostly because he didn’t care.
Well he didn’t care until she so excitedly seemed to recognize him. His eyebrows furrowed and his fists tightened just as a standard reaction to when he got mad. Anger management issues that he should probably work out. He clenched his jaw for a second before he nodded. “Yeah.” Was all he said not exactly in the mood to express any more than a confirmation of her thoughts. He absolutely despised Eric. Enough for him to just stay out of his dorm room to get away from anything that reminded him of the gelled back Prince. Stitch counted to ten before he let out a breath. “You make it a habit of talking without thinking?” He asked as he slid off the desk and walked around hers.
Similar to how a vulture would circle their prey as they waited for it to die. He rested his hands on the back of her seat and shrugged. “Yeah, I’m the guy who doesn’t like his roommate.” He said and then sat in the desk in front of her, his arm draped over the back of his chair casually. “But we have all the reasons to fight. Mostly mine.” Stitch explained to Wendy what happened for no particular reason other than to say it. The story would have gotten out at some point. “I fucked his girlfriend.” He said with a simple ease to his words. A calm and collective tone like he just told her his favorite drink was coffee.
The guilt started to settle back in though as he thought more and more about that situation. Yeah, he fucked Ariel - but the part that killed him was that he’d done it while he was dating Alice. His heart ached at that thought and it still stung him when he remembered the look on her face when he told her. None of that guilt or remorse though surfaced on his features. His remained as cocky and cool as ever. “What are you even doing?” He asked changing the subject and looking at the desk to see if she was writing or doodling or whatever.
(Source: lqfabrayic, via lqfabrayic)
Wendy sat in one of the open rooms that were often left unlocked during the evening for students, pen tapping against her cheek as she stared at the unfinished story. The page in front of her had a few words scribbled on it that had been scratched out multiple times, rewritten, and scratched out again. This Creative Writing assignment shouldn’t have been difficult. The prompt was simple: begin a story with “the hallway was silent.” It shouldn’t have been hard, except Wendy was suffering from a very intense case of writer’s block, and the story was due tomorrow, fifth period.
Normally she could crank out a story on the spot, she did it often back home when Michael or John would ask persistently, but for some reason this story was stumping her. Perhaps it was that she felt odd using her usual main character, Peter Pan, here at the Academy, or perhaps it was that she hadn’t quite adjusted. She felt a little disconnected from everyone here, with their already developed friendships and problems and drama. It was as if she was watching from the outside, every so often able to dart in and have a lovely conversation with someone, but otherwise lonely. A drifter, as her mother would say. She knew it was mainly her fault, the blame couldn’t be placed on the others who knew little to nothing about her plight, but she had no idea how to begin making friends.
Or start the story, which stared up at Wendy from the page almost taunting her. With a frustrated sigh, Wendy crumpled the paper, tossing it at the door, not seeing where it landed.
He needed to get out. Stitch needed to do something with his time rather than just sit in class and derp in his room. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at Eric’s side of the room and rolled his eyes. Of course Eric was his roommate. Like life wasn’t already cruel enough. His past mistake was something he tried to keep in that exact spot. In the past. He cleaned his side of the room did his assignments and now was just standing in the middle of his room, clenching and unclenching his fists with uncertainty. Stitch always managed to finish things at a faster pace than everyone around him which was good because he got what he needed to get done, done. But it was bad because he was often left with nothing to do. So he stood in the middle of his room itching to destroy something of Eric’s but didn’t. If only for Ariel. He sighed and decided that moving was better than just standing there and not doing anything.
With that thought in mind Stitch changed out of his school uniform and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and headed out the door. It was a better idea for him to roam around rather than just stand in his room and wait for something to happen anyway. Better than he just get out of the room than have Eric walk in and force them into an awkward situation. For the most part Stitch rarely saw Eric. It was like they had developed an unspoken schedule. Stitch was up early and Eric got in late. It just seemed best to stay out of each other’s ways. Eric was still Alice’s best friend and Stitch was still Ariel’s. And while they were both separated from both girls, there was still a respect for the other’s ex-girlfriend. And with that Stitch continued to roam out of C-block and into the halls that had classrooms.
Stitch had so many constrictions when it came to being in school. Waking up early, going to class, uniform. He hated being at the Academy but apparently not enough to get himself kicked out. His feet had somehow brought him to an empty classroom when his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of another person. The sound of paper being crumpled. Out of curiosity and boredom he followed the sound until he was in a room and noticed a girl sitting at a desk who’d just tossed a piece of paper without a care in his direction. Instinct forced his hand to catch the wad and open it up before he walked further into the room. “Wasting paper on a line of something you weren’t pleased with? You know an eraser was invented for a reason.”
Stitch teased the girl and slowly crumpled the bit of paper back up and tossed it into the trash can without a care. He headed over to an empty desk and took a seat on top and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He glanced at the girl in front of him with intrigue before he introduced him. “My name is Stitch.” He said trying to see what she was doing with much ease and raised his eyebrow for her to introduce her self. She looked vaguely familiar but than again so did everyone else in the school.
(Source: lqfabrayic)
(via ericcharming-deactivated2012040)
(via ericcharming-deactivated2012040)
(via ericcharming-deactivated2012040)
Laughing, she stepped back to allow him into the room. “Well I suppose this is true.” She said and watched him stand there awkwardly for a few minutes. When he apologized, she crossed over to him. Leaning up on her toes she pressed her lips against his cheek softly. “Don’t apologize. You had shot going on. You weren’t being a D. You were being an awkward hermit.” She said absolutley sincere. Leaning back down, she went to sit on her bed.
Stitch made his way to Ariels bed and she wasn’t exactly sure if that was a positive or a negative thing. To her it seemed like their friendship had drastically changed and she wasn’t happy about that. She missed the old Stitch. The one she could be herself with.
As the past began to rear its ugly head in, she was interrupted from her thoughts. Stitch was asking about his gift. That’s right! She had totally spaced about it for the past two minutes when it was the very reason she wanted him to come over.
Crawling up to the night stand, age opened the small drawer and.rumaged for a few minutes. “Got you!” She exclaimed as she pulled out a chain. “Now its nothing special but I thought of you for some reason when I made it.” She said as she turned and awaited for him to come get his gift.
His head ducked a little against his chest, and he fought a smile that threatened to come out when she kissed his cheek. She’d always been good to him. No matter how distant he’d been, she was always good to him. She always tried to make him happy and he here he was being his usual proud self. “An awkward hermit.” He laughed and shook his head. She was right, it was true. He scratched the back of his head and surveyed the room just a bit more. His eyes focused back to Tas, curiosity in his eyes as he tried to read the look on her face. Whatever the look was it was gone and replaced with excitement and turned around to fetch whatever it was she had for him. Again it made him a bit uncomfortable how she’d thought about getting him something.
Though he masked that feeling very well as he leaned back on his palms. “Because I’m just always on your mind, Tas? Tsk. What will Marie think?” He teased as he stood up from Ariel’s bed and over to hers. He plopped down beside her and nudged the other girl’s shoulder. “So…” He said urging her to give him whatever it was she had to give him, because if he had to admit - he was a little excited. Who didn’t love getting something? And the fact that she’d actually put thought into getting him something was a little heart warming as well. Sure he wasn’t the greatest guy to be around, or even the nicest. He was no Charming that was for sure, but she always looked past that. Always looked past his flaws.
(Source: experiment-sixtwosix)
