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Post by adam evan mcdowell; on Dec 3, 2011 0:28:49 GMT -5
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
Adam ran his fingers through his hair using his free hand, curses pouring from his lips as he was escorted into the emergency room. Irritation was clearly written across the nineteen year old's face as the nurses swamped him, pushed and coaxing him into a rather large room and forcing him to sit upon a medical chair in the room. Several other identical chairs like this were set in the room, with sheets that could be drawn around the chairs to allow for privacy. Adam hissed as a nurse dared to touch his left wrist, causing him to bite his lip just to avoid cussing the woman. He knew nurses and doctors alike all had good intentions but damnit couldn't they refrain from obviously touching something that was clearly hurt?
Adam had managed to mess up his left wrist while attempting to help some staff members unload the bus that held all their supplies for the tour, he had this weird obsession with needing to take care of his own things. He was fairly sure his adoptive mom would have a fit if she knew that the bands' crew were so willing to cater to the bands' need. Groaning as the doctor approached and shuffled him into an x-ray room he no doubt wondered if he'd broken his wrist. As a guitarist, this would mean he'd be unable to play for the band, and that thought irritated him to no end. Within moments the x-rays had been taken and Adam was once more shuffled into the room with the numerous medical chairs. After reciving a promising white pill from a nurse for pain and inflammation the blond haired nineteen year old leaned back in the seat, making a lame attempt to at least straighten his plain white tee and jeans that had become mussed during the hectic drive to the emergency room and the gaggle they'd faced while there. Releasing a breath Adam glared up at the ceiling, fuming at the idea of not being able to play his beloved guitar.
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Post by desiree jezebel de luca; on Dec 3, 2011 1:15:52 GMT -5
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have you ever been fake for the sake of saving face?
Having been the type who was graced with a certain flow to her movements, Desiree was considerably well coordinated. That, combined with her organization skills, usually kept her from getting into any clumsy accidents, but it seemed like she was having an off day. She started off the morning with nearly breaking her nose when she accidentally tripped over the charging wire connected to her laptop, though part of her believed that she probably would have felt even worse if she managed to send the said laptop plummeting to its death on her hotel room floor. After all, everything was saved into it, and it would have killed her a bit on the inside if she lost that massive amount of information.
The streak of bad luck continued into the day when she managed to run into a few doors and stumble over cracked sidewalks. The climax of this misfortune occurred when she attempted to skilfully weave past a bustling crowd, only to slip off the sidewalk and sprain her ankle. With so many people around, she had been hoping that at least one would play the part of a good Samaritan and inquire as to how she was, but she was completely left to her own devices. She proceeded to limp around barefoot with her stilettos in her hands for a good ten minutes before successfully catching a taxi to the hospital. The scrapes on her hands and knees resulting from her flesh colliding with the rough surface of concrete were disinfected and her ankle was bandaged, and though Desiree should have been grateful that she only had a sprain instead of any broken bones, she still felt grumpy.
For a moment, she thought back to the doctor’s diagnosis that she had simply stretched a tendon. He told her that she would be alright if she kept off that leg for a few weeks and proceeded to bandage up her ankle, though all she was thinking about was how much more difficult it would be to sneak around, gathering information about the people on the tour. Nevertheless, standing around and sulking would be useless, so she finally began limping her way around the hospital, occasionally peeking into the rooms to satisfy her curiosity as to what sorts of ailments others were suffering. One room was filled with medical chairs, only one of which was occupied. She quickly glanced at the occupant and was prepared to walk away, though she had a double-take when she realized that it was a familiar face.
It wasn’t as if Desiree knew Adam well at all, but she did annoy him enough on a daily basis with her poking and prodding at his personal life. She was probably the last person he wanted to see when feeling unwell, but she never did acknowledge her sensitivity and sympathy towards others much. Using the doorway as support, she leaned against it and crossed her arms over her chest, allowing a tiny smile to dance over her lips. "I guess I’m not the only unlucky one today?" Not exactly the formal greeting she typically gave, but it did serve as a conversation starter. adam. 526. Still excited for this! c: [tr][cs=2] |
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Post by adam evan mcdowell; on Dec 3, 2011 1:52:56 GMT -5
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
Adam glanced at the doctor as he came back in, bringing with him the x-rays that had been taken of his wrist. With a sigh Adam began to prepare himself for the worst and immediately released a breath and relaxes as the doctor informed him he'd merely sprained his wrist, and minorly at that. As the doctor gave him and awkward pat on the shoulder and departed the nurse that had never moved far from his side also patted him and promised to return with some bandages to just secure his wrist and some ice. It was a simple solution and Adam was at least thankful that the bone hadn't broken. Otherwise it would've cost him more then a handful of days away from his guitar. Drawing in a breath and fully intending to leave the hospital as soon as the nurse wrapped his wrist Adam jerked when a female voice reached out to him. Shifting in the chair to look at the woman more closely Adam slightly narrowed his eyes at the woman he recognized as a member of the paparazzi.
"Please tell me that you don't harass people in a hospital too?" Adam's tone remained relatively light, but a hint of his usual mask coated his words. They, being the paparazzi, were always prying into the private lives of others. It was annoying to consistently be assaulted by harsh questions and prying eyes. And it made keeping his past a secret even harder. Sure a handful of bandmates knew bits and pieces of what he'd faced but Adam had never given the full story, never wanted anyone to have something to use against him at a later date. Attempting a slight, wolfish grin Adam gestured to her own injury. "I guess I'll take pity. Seems like we were both cast an unlucky lot today 'eh?" Adam decided not to immediately take a defensive position against her, he couldn't even remember her name, not that he'd ever cared to know if but it was obvious she hadn't faked her way into the hospital. Adam silently wondered if any paparazzi were low enough to do that.
Watching her closely with dark hues he moved in the chair, grinning at the nurse who finally entered with the bandages. Listening to her instructions half-heartedly he allowed the woman to wrap his wrist in a secure hold, the throbbing in his wrist beginning to fade as the pill they gave him began to take hold of his senses. Once more the nurse left him promising to return in a few with discharge papers and telling him to relax. Turning his attention back to the female Adam decided to formally introduce himself, as a human being and not one of her gossip fodder. "I'm Adam McDowell, but you knew that. I don't believe I've ever caught your name?" She was attractive, Adam would give her that but he wouldn't trust her with much more then shallow details. He was sure that his past was the golden ticket for paparazzi, especially if his band ever made it big-time.
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Post by desiree jezebel de luca; on Dec 3, 2011 3:09:34 GMT -5
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have you ever been fake for the sake of saving face?
The reply Desiree received wasn’t exactly the friendliest, but she supposed that her presence wasn’t something to really look forward to either. She didn’t really take anything offensively at this point in her life. Having people act rather reluctant or displeased at the sight of her face was another one of those things that she naturally got used to because it happened so often. It was a waste of energy to hold grudges over every person who gave her a cold shoulder, and she couldn’t change it, so the only option left seemed to be acceptance. And besides, she could understand why she wasn’t the best company in the world, so she couldn’t really scold anyone for reacting that way toward her.
Shrugging nonchalantly, she tried to make it obvious that his comment didn’t really faze her much. With a hint of a wry smile, she sarcastically replied, "Totally. Didn’t you know that sick people are really brimming with angst? I deliberately tried to break my own ankle to try to get in here. Only got a sprain though. Damn." Adam seemed to attempt some sort of grin, which she interpreted as a friendlier sign, and she was almost happy that perhaps this conversation would take a complete nosedive into some sort of argument. Besides, it wasn’t as if she were jabbing at him for personal information at the moment. For possibly the first time ever, she wasn’t quite in the mood to interrogate strangers and just wanted a simple conversation to pass the time. That couldn’t possibly have been too much to ask for.
When Adam spoke again, his tone remained the same, though the words were less hostile. In her ears, at least. And she wouldn’t pick a fight when it was unnecessary (not that she really liked fighting anyway), so she offered a slightly friendlier smile and nodded. "Unfortunately, it seems so. To be honest, I winded up slipping off of a sidewalk. Fun." She lifted her hand slightly to show him the pair of stilettos, partially to explain why she was walking around barefoot in a hospital and partially to explain how the little incident occurred without telling him the entire story. It seemed a little ironic that hospitals would have commodities like food and clothing, yet they lacked shoes. Though she supposed it wouldn’t make much sense to give the bedridden shoes anyway, but still, why not have shoes as back-up? She didn’t bother answering her own inquiry.
The sound of footsteps down the hallway prompted Desiree to shift away from the door to allow any potential visitors the chance to enter the room. She flinched and looked down when a sudden jolt of pain shot through her leg again, and she realized that her movement caused her to accidentally put her weight into her right foot again. Well, that imbalance would take some getting used to. Lifting her gaze, she noticed that it was a nurse that had entered, and with a certain passive curiosity, she watched as Adam was getting his wrist wrapped. She was tempted to ask how he managed to get his wrist, of all things, injured. If her memory served her correctly, then he was the guitarist for Eyes of Hysteria, and wouldn’t that mean he’d need a large range of motion for his hands? But she decided that asking questions would be a bad idea, considering he was likely suspicious of her as it was.
Brushing a loose lock of blonde away from her eyes, she replied, "Desiree de Luca. Otherwise known as Jinx, but feel free to call me either one of those." Admittedly, the young woman was a bit surprised that he bothered to ask what her name was. Most people didn’t begin with formalities and simply closed the conversation with a comment that they wouldn’t talk, so she should just leave. It was a change of pace, but she wouldn’t complain about being treated civilly. She only hoped that the rest of the conversation would keep on going this way. adam. 674. Nyan~ [tr][cs=2] |
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Post by adam evan mcdowell; on Dec 3, 2011 4:01:31 GMT -5
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
Hospitals had been something that Adam usually went out of his way to avoid. Just the fact that people died in building like these was enough to set him on edge. Not to mention the sight of blood did awful things to him. He supposed it was probably due to his rough childhood, how the slightest and silliest things could set him on edge but Adam was forcing himself to relax. He hadn't exactly been just tossed to the wolves in here, instead the she-wolf had found him herself. Adam guessed that she was diligent and good at her job considering when she'd hurt her ankle she'd decided to snoop around in a hospital. Hard-headed women in the world. As she continued to speak Adam let of a slight laugh, at least she was intelligent and had a fairly good sense of humor. Moving off the chair Adam watched her, a small grin still resting on his lips. "I'd say you take your job too seriously, I mean I would've at least attempted to sneak in through a window or come in while no one was looking." His jest was light, his vocals clear as he winked at her.
Adam had rarely found himself caught up in conversation with another, in fact he found most conversations could easily border on uncomfortable for him especially when personal questions were brought up. He was alarmingly relaxed around her, and Adam decided to blame in on the medication they'd given him. Being lax around a member of the wolf-pack would no doubt lead to an article detailing everything about him. Adam had no want to feel stripped-bear of all his secrets. Secrets and shitty details remained silent for a reason. As she spoke for the reason of her injury and held up the objects that had caused it he raised a brow, running his free hand once more through his soft blond locks. "Why the hell women parade around in those contraptions I'll never know. At least you learned your lesson, side-walks are out to get you." Adam finally gave her a wolfish grin, his white teeth clearly viewable. Even though he had no intentions of opening up to her and 'spilling the beans' he found that conversation with her was easier then expected. As much as he'd like to blame it on the fact that she was trained to pull things from others Adam didn't feel like she'd been laying any of her conversational tricks on him. And for that, he was greatful.
"Believe it or not I found out that the huge metal trunks attack also. Who'd have thought that merely stepping up to help unload things from a bus would result in a sprained wrist?" Adam could already imagine the shit he was going to face for getting the sprain, and certainly wasn't looking forwards to it. This would make playing harder, but he was dedicated to his music and band. Hell if he'd let them down because of a sprained wrist. Unfortunately it happened to be the wrist he used to strum, which would certainly be interesting to attempt to do. Advil would become his best-friend for the next week. "Jinx? Isn't that a bit morbid, even for a paparazzi?" Adam moved away from the medical chair and pointed towards it. He hadn't missed how she'd winced and it was obvious her sprain still hurt her. "I refuse to call you Jinx or Desiree. You look more like a Blanche to me." Adam gave a sheepish grin and once more gestured to the chair. "So Blanche, do me a favor and sit in this chair before you hurt yourself even more."
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Post by desiree jezebel de luca; on Dec 4, 2011 2:09:09 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 320px; background-image: url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/merr-1.jpg); border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -moz-border-radius: 3em 3em 3em 3em;]
have you ever been fake for the sake of saving face?
As if to remind her that a hospital was one of the worst places to socialize, a stretcher holding the battered figure of a woman was rolled through the hallway. Desiree tilted her head slightly to watch from the corner of her eye and felt the desire to help in some way, but she didn’t need anyone to tell her that there was only oh-so much she could do in this sort of setting and in these sorts of conditions. While she could likely receive some sort of credit for being willing to extend a helping hand, there was little action she could actually take unless she had secretly been majoring in a doctorate degree. Like with her sense of guilt, she placed the gnawing feeling away into a dark area of her heart where she could more easily ignore it and focused on her current conversation.
When Adam responded to her sarcasm with a small joke and a wink, she couldn’t help but to chuckle lightly and blush a bit. Nodding in agreement, she stated in a matter-of-factly tone, "I tried that! I went up this tree and tried to get through a window, but then I almost fell off. Then when I tried to sneak in, the receptionist caught me and was like, ‘What are you doing around here, young lady?’ It’s really quite a conundrum."
It wasn’t often that she could act so relaxed around band members, and it was mostly her fault. As he pointed out, Desiree took her job overly seriously at times, and though he was only joking, it was actually the truth. She was making the most out of the leniency now, so that had to count for something, right? If she were to defend the fact that she was acting more friendly than formal, then she would also point out that she had begun to act a bit flirty. Maybe she wasn’t dropping pick-up lines every few seconds, but allowing herself to blush over something like a simple wink was what she thought was on the flirtier end on the spectrum. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, Adam was undeniably attractive. However, it was strictly against her code of ethics to ask him out—not that she was planning to, of course—because he was a source of gossip and scrutiny. Interacting with him was strictly for business purposes and not personal ones. Of that, she was sure.
There wasn’t much time for her to brood over any possible aspects of her behaviour because her thoughts were saturated with witty ways of responding to him. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted before responding, "God, you men can be so ungrateful sometimes. We wear stilettos because it puts an emphasis on how sexy our legs are. You should appreciate the effort we put into giving you some eye candy to ogle. It’s not our faults that sidewalks are intent on discouraging us from flaunting sex appeal." She put a certain emphasis on her tone to let him know that she was simply joking around by acting overdramatic. The blonde was pretty certain he’d know already, but there was no harm in making sure that he wouldn’t misinterpret her words as a serious remark.
"Then I’m not the only one being attacked by inanimate objects. I think I’ll appreciate that a little. If my lesson was that sidewalks are evil, then yours must be not to offer a helping hand." It was pretty good justification, now that she thought about it. Not that it was neither logical nor reasonable, but people always used poor past experiences as an excuse to shy away from certain tasks. It would be worth a try if she was ever stuck in such a situation.
Shrugging a bit, she murmured, "It’s an okay nickname. I was called that even back in high school, so I’ve had years to get used to it. Sounds rough, but it makes me feel a little tough." The statement was a little more honest than she had meant it to be, but he probably wouldn’t ask her about it. He didn’t know her well enough to ask, and even if he did, she doubted she’d give him a serious reply because it would require a long explanation regarding some of her less pleasant memories, and she didn’t like him enough to tell him those details.
When Adam moved away from his chair and gestured, she responded with a questioning look. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but his explanation clarified her confusion, and it also included a new nickname that was considerably cheerier than the one she was used to. Not one to reject small acts of chivalry, she nodded and limped over, plopping into the seat in a rather unladylike fashion. Flashing an impish grin at him, she chirped, "Thank you. For the chair and the new nickname, I mean. But you do know you’ll get odd looks from people if you call me Blanche, right? I don’t think they’d understand where you got it from. But I’m guessing A Streetcar Named Desire? But just to let you know, being nicknamed after that Blanche isn’t much better, since she had a sad ending. Still, points for creativity. I like it."
adam. 886. Rambled a lot. Sorry! <.< [tr][cs=2] |
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Post by adam evan mcdowell; on Dec 4, 2011 3:20:06 GMT -5
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
Adam hadn't missed the person coming by in a stretcher and he winced slightly. He couldn't imagine what pain that person was feeling, and he was completely helpless. Adam always had the tendency to want to help others, to be strong for others when needed and to provide comfort and security. Being so helpless was a weak point in many people and Adam certainly had that weak point. Shifting his gaze from the stretcher that passed by he once more devoted his attention to 'Blanche', stifling a smile at her blush. To have a member of the paparazzi blushing made him feel slightly humbled, if not a bit turned on. Considering how he supposed she was great at mastering conversation he was to, and Adam had every intention of letting her know it. He was attracted to her and he'd only just met her, but something about her made him want to get to know her, the real her. It was easy to guess that the paparazzi put on a front, often way more confident then could be imaginable. Adam knew well enough that she had to have things that she kept hidden, just as he made sure to keep things that had happened to him in his past quiet. To be one of the wolves and not release much personal information about herself was admirable.
"Damn. You should've just jumped a janitor or something, hell you could've even put on a nurse outfit." Adam gave her a wolfish grin, he guessed by now she'd start to notice that he was hitting on her. She was beautiful, he'd give her that. And he was interested, so much it slightly unnerved him. But the fact that she'd blushed had only egged him on, making him want to draw that lovely shade of red to her cheeks once more. Adam had never had a true relationship, mainly just a few hookups. He was good at the game that was played between man and woman, but she was charming in her witty comebacks. As she went on a male rampage Adam chuckled, delighting in the animated way she spoke. Putting his hands up and giving a slight shrug he spoke once more. "Hey, don't stab the messenger. I was just saying women all over are breaking their ankles. I'm just attempting to be a good, helping citizen. As a male, I reserve the right to rescue ladies in distress. And you my lady, already have harmed yourself. So, I like to think that I'm just helping to point out the fact that sidewalks are everywhere, and they're clearly out to get you."
Adam let out a low laugh at his words, clearly giving her a hard time about her fall. He learned the easiest way to get over any pain, emotional or physical was humor or laughter. "But don't let me discourage you on flaunting 'sex appeal' because I'm sure that men would have my head on a stake." The conversations with her were far beyond entertaining, and only encouraged Adam to continue talking to her. She wasn't boring, and he could hardly imagine if there was ever a dull moment in her life. If she spent all her time chasing around the latest and greatest story he guessed she had had plenty of humorous events. "I think we should be concerned that non-living things are out to get us, I'm thinking that we're going to need more then just bodyguards." For some reason Adam was beginning to feel not half-bad about the fact that he'd caught the trunk wrongly and sprained his wrist. And that he'd met her and held up a conversation on seemingly normal terms without any harassing questions also slightly confused him. He imagined that she was always on the prowl but she seemed harmless for the moment. And Adam wasn't sure yet if he could write it off as a tactic to get a good story from her.
"Hey, I think that being 'rough and tough' with an intimidating name like Blanche will have many, many band members quaking in their slippers. And to think that I've brought the nickname back to life." Adam grinned at her again, clearly once more just joking with her. "I promise to keep your newly resurrected nickname between us." As if to seal the deal Adam made an X across his check, looking to draw a laugh from the girl. Flirting he could handle, meaningful and deep conversations put him on edge and he certainly wasn't about to delve into what her highschool life had been like. As she spoke once more Adam shrugged, hooking his thumbs inside his jean pockets. "It was a good movie, maybe not the best out there but, it was still good. And consider this your chance to redeem the name Blanche!" He grinned at her again, shifting his weigh onto another leg and watching her with darkened hues. "Who'd have thought that such good company can be found at a hospital? But next time don't get attacked by a sidewalk just to talk to me. Seeing you dressed up as a janitor would be preferable, I'd even help you draw a fake mustache."
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Post by desiree jezebel de luca; on Dec 6, 2011 22:28:51 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 320px; background-image: url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/merr-1.jpg); border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -moz-border-radius: 3em 3em 3em 3em;]
have you ever been fake for the sake of saving face?
Even though it dampened the mood that had begun to form in the room, Desiree couldn’t help but to begin to wonder if Adam was suspicious of her. She was, after all, known for her merciless attempts to retrieve information from others, and he had been at the receiving end of her ceaseless interrogation tactics before. She sometimes liked to believe that she was rather charming, but there were many other charismatic young women in the world, and he was the guitarist of a well-known band. There was no doubt in her mind that he had inevitably been flirted with before partially because he was undeniably attractive and partially because he had a reputation, so he had to be immune to that characteristic. Nevertheless, it was getting difficult to hold onto her suspicion as each second ticked by. The lines separating business from pleasure where beginning to get a little blurry, and it was increasingly difficult to refrain from responding flirtatiously to the witty banter they were exchanging. Perhaps she had been deprived of flirting for too long? She did flirt rather often back in her high school years, but since those years came to an end, her primary focus had been her journalism.
Any doubt that Adam was flirting with her vanished when he suggested that she wear a nurse’s outfit. It sounded like one of those things that had double meanings, but she quickly scolded for thinking so. Her mind really must have been treading some murky waters if she was beginning to have those sorts of thoughts. Smiling—and she seemed to be doing that a lot around him—she teased, "Oh? And what if I were to dress like a nurse? Would you visit and then hog up all my attention so I would tend to you and your poor wrist instead of looking for headlines?" And he wouldn’t, of course. There was no plausible reason for him to talk to her. Sure, they were having a pleasant conversation at the moment, but the moment they stepped out of the hospital, he’d revert back to being an aspiring musician, and she’d be an insignificant, pesky journalist who seemed hell-bent on destroying his reputation. Though she loathed admitting it, the prediction of their near future saddened her.
Reaching forward, Desiree poked him on the lower rib before crossing her arms and pouting like a petulant child. "Messengers are meant to be stabbed. But because you’re nice, I’ll let you get away with just a poke. I won’t be so lenient the next time you bring me bad news though!" She left it hanging in the air that he likely wouldn’t be bringing her any sort of news because the chances of them running into each other and being able to uphold a friendly conversation were slim to none. Though she knew vicious sidewalks and sprained ankles were bad, she couldn’t help but to believe that she’d be willing to continue lacking in mobility for a little longer just to keep his company.
Shooting him a glowering look, she feigned annoyance and scolded, "Hey! I’m hot, and you know it. You’d regret it too if I stopped flaunting my sex appeal."
The more Desiree talked, the more she began to feel a hint of nostalgia. It had been a long time since she had such a relaxed conversation, and she remembered why she enjoyed conversing with her friends so much years ago. There was something pleasing about getting to socialize and interact with her peers. As a journalist, she was often forced to distance herself from situations to avoid getting involved. It was essentially a requirement that she view the world with the eyes of an outsider in order to avoid voicing a bias. From one perspective, it was smart to refrain from getting tangled into some sort of drama, but from another, it sometimes made her feel left out of the going-ons of the people who surrounded her. She once said that humans were basically at a standstill if they couldn’t contribute to the way life worked with their own actions, and she recalled the saying now.
Entertaining the idea of inanimate objects coming to life, she replied, "And all the critics say that technology will try to overthrow us. They’re failing to see the smaller stuff that’s secretly plotting! It must all be a terrible scheme of world domination planned by man-made things."
Needless to say, Desiree was pleasantly surprised when Adam confirmed his knowledge of the literary work. It wasn’t as if she had assumed that musicians were naturally lacking in book smarts, but she knew the book wasn’t too popular in modern times. Grinning, she commented, " You better wish me good luck to ward off all that bad luck the name will bring me." She paused, wrinkling her nose at the idea of dressing up like a janitor and continued, "Ew, you’re not worth dressing up as a janitor for. And I would never let you come near my face when armed with a marker! You would probably draw all over my face while you’re close!" adam. 856. not my best. :c [tr][cs=2] |
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Post by adam evan mcdowell; on Dec 10, 2011 0:36:34 GMT -5
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
Conversation continued to flow easily between them, a witty banter that would probably be highly entertaining to watch on a big screen. Blanche suited him, she kept up with his jokes and managed to make him even smile at her words. Adam couldn't remember the last time he'd ever had so much fun talking to a female, and that was beginning to make him nervous. She was technically his sworn enemy in the terms of the music business, but it was so easy to look at her now and not see her with horns and a tail, metaphorically speaking. The mere thought of his Blanche having horns and a tail amused him more then upset him. As she spoke again, Adam blew out a puff of air. Playfully rolling his eyes he settled a look on her, his words coming easily from parted lips. "Pffft. Come on Bea, if you dressed up as a nurse I'd pull the fire alarm, because you'd be too damn hot in a nurse outfit." He grinned at her, humor lighting his features at the cheesiest of cheesy lines. Yet he'd managed to make her blush earlier, something that had silently endeared her to him, making her appear more human to him. And at this moment in time, Adam wanted to see her as a human, not some masochistic paparazzi.
As she'd poked him in the ribs Adam dramatically winced, and settled a stern look on her. "A poke in the ribs is cruel. I'm labeling you as a bully. Do you have any comment on this statement Blanche? Even so much as poking this glorious body of mine is a crime. You can quote me on that." He offered a wink, taking on a mock interviewer tone as he 'lectured' her. Adam was fairly certain that she was better at writing her comments instead of speaking them, seeing as how the paparazzi adored adding witty snippets into an article while they never had the balls to say it to the person they were grindings' face. As hard as he'd tried, Adam was struggling with keeping things professional and non-chalant. He was drawn to her, that much was for sure. But Adam silently wondered if it was still a front, or if she was being real with him. At her mention of sex appeal Adam grinned, skimming over her slender form before drawing his eyes back to her face. "You're right. I would be a sad man if you stopped flaunting your sex appeal." Or maybe he'd be happier if she'd only flaunt it to him. As the thought raced across his mind Adam felt his body stiffen, the thought seriously unsettling him as he shifted awkwardly. She was different and refreshing, he'd give her that but hell if he'd ever allow his attraction to her to go past casual flirting. Right?
To even have a thought like that was so far from his personality that it bothered him. Adam had learned not to rely on others at a young age. He'd been born into something nasty and dark that had only gotten worse, not better. So it was hard for Adam to believe in such things as 'love' and 'liking' someone as more then a friend. Jealousy was something he'd never experienced, had never wanted to experience. Jealousy was corrupt, it brought out the worst in people and made them do horrible things. Adam preferred to pretend as if all in the world was right, as if his past had never occured. As if he could escape something that had affected him so deeply. He'd be the first to admit that things were better now. He'd made it into a band and was on tour. But that didn't make up for the hurt and pain that he'd felt as a child. Jealousy was something that had shredded his parents apart, massacred a home, or what could have been a home. It was something Adam never wanted to face.
As she spoke again Adam forced himself just to get over his un-called for jealousy. She was nothing to him and he was nothing to her. He barely knew her for goodness sake! "Ha I know! I also hear it's common for people to walk into walls, seriously how did all these 'accidents' get over-looked? In-animate objects are out to destroy the human race." Adam offered a slight grin, attempting to shake off the trail that his thoughts had taken. When she spoke once more Adam allowed himself a short laugh before raking a hand through his blonde hair and pulling his shirt away from his chest in an attempt to 'pop a collar' he didn't have. "You know you'd do it, who could resist this? And hey, at least I'd make you a pretty clown. I mean think about it: a clown janitor. No one would ever see through that disguise!"
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Post by desiree jezebel de luca; on Dec 18, 2011 4:51:19 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 320px; background-image: url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/merr-1.jpg); border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -moz-border-radius: 3em 3em 3em 3em;]
have you ever been fake for the sake of saving face?
As a journalist, it was inevitable that Desiree would have interacted with a number of people, including rock stars. Adding to the list of several other things she loathed to admit, it seemed that Adam had quickly made his way to being one of the most amusing celebrity-in-the-makings that she had ever had the pleasure of dealing with. Admittedly a large number of her encounters with people like him ended negatively because the typical human being did not take well to a virtual stranger trying to invade his or her privacy, but a fair amount of her interactions also made her some new friends.
It likely sounded silly, but her current situation reminded her a little of high school cliques. Technically speaking, they were supposed to be enemies. They came from opposite ends of the spectrum with the way he was a musician, and she was supposed to be hell-bent on building up his career so she could destroy it when it reached its prime. Sort of like how the popular kids in school liked to pick on the ones who were more reclusive than social. It was funny how she had transitioned from one to the other. She supposed some things from high school really never changed, or perhaps it was she who had remained static all these years.
Blushing slightly again, she felt flattered despite having heard far better pick up lines before. “Oh, hell no. You can look and drool until you’re satisfied, but I would be pissed if you pulled the fire alarm. I’m looking for a hot mess sort of look, not soaked mess.” She could just see it now; she would start off walking through a room and making heads turn and hearts stop, but then that would come to a dissatisfactory end when water started gushing downwards, making her make-up run and her hair stick together in knotted clumps.
At the sight of the overplayed look of pain on Adam’s face followed by a scolding stare, Desiree burst out into laughter, wrapping her arms around her sides, and at the mention of his ‘glorious body,’ she laughed even louder. It wasn’t as if she disagreed (quite the contrary, actually), but she would never fess up to her real thoughts to him or to really anyone for that matter. There were a number of things she would easily say to a person’s face because she didn’t see the point in shying away when she was bound to express her opinion in the form of printed words on paper anyway, and it wasn’t as if she had a spotless reputation as a nice girl that she would risk losing. Poking him again, but lighter this time, she replied, “I feel it safe to admit to the public that a certain Adam McDowell doesn’t have as sexy of a body as he thinks. It’s really no loss if I continue poking.” She didn’t miss the sight of his eyes skimming over her body, likely taking in the curves and contours that made up her hourglass figure. She felt the pre-existing blush on her face darken a bit and tried to lessen the feeling of being flustered by placing her hands on her hips and holding her head up high. In a tone that wasn’t as reprimanding as she had meant for it to sound, she admonished, “Aren’t I always right? And don’t be selfish. If you get to enjoy my sex appeal, then other guys should too. Besides, I don’t think you could stand dealing with it all by yourself.” Even though he probably could. Despite her claims, Desiree knew she was characterized more as pretty than sexy. There was a significant difference between the two that most people had a tendency to overlook. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a petite figure were the symptoms of a classic sort of beauty, and sexy was something she could only describe as more mysterious and husky.
With the thought of world domination back in mind, she explained with feigned seriousness, “People want to think the human race will be destroyed when the sun blows up and Armageddon arrives. They don’t want to think they’re the ones creating the things that will ultimately destroy them. Self-deceit is lethal!” Her words probably would have been better applied to human nature in general rather than some silly scenario that she and Adam had concocted to keep themselves entertained. Again, she found herself laughing until her sides ached when he attempted to look cool. It was beginning to get worrisome that it was so difficult for her not to maintain a smile around him. What if the muscles in her face permanently froze while she smiled? Then she would look like an oddball, but oddball wasn’t much better than clown janitor. Raising an eyebrow, she smoothly stated in a matter-of-factly tone, “I’d look like I was hobo that a make-up cart puked on. Maybe people wouldn’t see through the disguise, but I would so definitely stand out, which defeats the purpose of trying to sneak into a hospital. We need to go for subtlety!” adam. 852. so sleepy. @.@ [tr][cs=2] |
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Post by adam evan mcdowell; on Jan 29, 2012 1:20:35 GMT -5
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
He grinned, the look genuine yet one most of his band-mates and close friends would say was rare to see. It was easy to talk to her, like breathing air. Adam was no where near going down the road of telling her much about his personal life but he found himself growing more and more interested in getting to know Blanche. The real Blanche. Not Desiree the paparazzi with horns and a tail. As she described about how she'd rather be a hot mess rather then a wet mess Adam grinned, finding each situation appealing in a different way. The idea of her being a 'hot mess' was enough to raise his hackles at the thought of Blanche being heavily noticed by others, yet he couldn't say he wouldn't be a gaping fool at the sight either. And the idea of her being a wet mess was one that settled his nerves in the fact that Adam could certainly imagine himself playing the hero to the wet damsel in distress.
He knew he was no white knight, but that didn't stop him from wanting to potentially save her. Adam hadn't been able to save his own parents, so he couldn't imagine being the one to take care of another. The darker thoughts drew a slight frown to his normally schooled features, the chink in his armor was his past. It was the one thing he'd never be able to tell Blanche. Because the 'Jinx' inside her would certainly find the tid-bit about who he was in his past and the mental scars it'd left too delicious. The thought had him shifting slightly, a uneasy nature taking over his humorous mood.
Snapping out of the pessimistic thoughts Adam forced himself to think and live in the here and now. Blanche poked him again, this time notably lighter and he grinned as she spoke. Allowing his face to fall into one of mock disbelief as she spoke. "Hey now! When you have a mob of AMAFG chasing after you, don't come running to me to make them stop." He grinned again, all his saddening thoughts immediately forgotten as he allowed himself to focus on her beautiful face. Adam was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was attracted to her. The only thing that slightly unsettled him was the fact it wasn't just her physical appearance. He found himself believing that she was a good person, had never wanted to harm another. Yet Adam had read heard the things that she'd wrote about. And it seemed to contradict his own look on her.
"Adam McDowell Adoring Fan Girls." He grinned slyly, and winked at Blanche. "They'd be seriously upset with you if you harmed my body." Adam momentarily dropped his gaze from her face to gaze at his wrapped wrist. He could go ahead and count himself out of practicing these next couple of days. Not to mention the thorough bitching he was bound to recieve from his band-mates. That thought alone was enough to cause Adam to linger inside the hospital room longer than necessary. And his Blanche was proving just the ticket.
Adam snorted as she spoke of sharing her sex appeal with other males. The jealousy once more crept up, the scowl that appeared on his face a true one and not one crafted to make her smile. "Honey, you should rethink that statement. You couldn't handle this." Adam gestured to his body, replacing his scowl with a cocky look. In reality, he was far from cocky but for flirting purposes he was willing to play the cocky card. As she spoke again he found himself laughing right along with her, his focus once more glued to her. "Aye, there's the rub!" Using his best British voice he could muster he grinned at Blanche.
"Hobo that a make-up cart puked on. That's detailed Bea, come on, you should learn to trust in my epic skills. We'll make out like ninja's in this place!" Of course Adam had spoken without thinking through his words so when he mentioned making-out he could feel his form slightly stiffen. He'd mean't in a completely different way but that didn't mean the idea hadn't stuck in his mind. Faltering for a moment before regaining composure he spoke again. "Fine. Subtle. Since you want the excursion to be boring maybe we should just give up the idea of getting information from the hospital. Let's go for a more natural approach. Scouting people out at restaurants."
Adam grinned, not allowing himself to stop and consider the repercussions of his next few words. "In fact, why wait. We should get a head start tonight, let me treat you to dinner." And there it was. Adam had voiced his need to get to know her more. The thought scared the shit out of him. "Come on Bea, you know you can't resist this!" He grinned again, silently wondering if she'd actually take him up on his offer.
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Post by desiree jezebel de luca; on Feb 2, 2012 2:17:54 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 320px; background-image: url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/merr-1.jpg); border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -moz-border-radius: 3em 3em 3em 3em;]
have you ever been fake for the sake of saving face?
In a way, it was odd. The day had started off pretty terribly, but Desiree never expected to find a friend in the hospital, much less in Adam. It wasn’t that she wanted to make loathsome generalisations, but for the most part, she typically played the role of the sworn enemy to members of bands. She was startled to find that she was growing increasingly reluctant to ever have to mention anything bad about him in future articles, and all the while, becoming biased had been what she tried her hardest to avoid. There was just something annoyingly compelling about him that made her want to stick close. Jeopardizing their friendship felt like it just might be the end of the universe. It all sounded overdramatic and silly even in her own ears, but emotions were never meant to be logical and orderly.
The more they talked, the more she lost herself in the conversation. The need to portray herself as a cruel and heartless spawn of a demon faded to the darker depths of her mind, and Desiree blamed him for that. Being herself wasn’t so bad in retrospect, but he was effortlessly taking down the guards she barricaded herself with for protection, and the entire concept was leaving her feeling a mixture of shock and worry underneath all the smiles and laughs and jokes. It wasn’t often that a person could get to know the real her, and it was supposed to take some time to win over her trust. Meanwhile, she had only had her first real conversation with Adam today, and she already felt close to him. That wasn’t to say she knew every single little detail of his life, but she was willing to wait and let him open up to her. At the moment, she had not yet completely lost herself in the disillusionment of the little fairytale and still had some senses to remind her they had just barely began a newly formed friendship. There was no way she would seriously consider running off in the sunset with him or anything preposterous like that.
Speaking of friendship, what was going on in his mind at the moment? Sure, he was acting friendly enough despite the hint of hostility that existed when she first approached him, but what about now? It would be utterly mortifying if she was the only one who believed they were making some progress towards being actual friends. For all she knew, he might have taken on a friendly air just because he needed some company at the moment. The next time she decided to greet him, he might just walk past like she was some insignificant stranger. The idea scared her more than it should, and she took control of her rampant imagination before her baseless fears spiralled out of control. She didn’t have any actual proof, but she reassured herself that he would never be so mean as to pretend that he didn’t know her.
Rolling her bright blue eyes, she was undeniably amused by his cocky attitude. It would have been a major turn-off if Adam really was full of himself, but she was certain that he was just joking around. “Oh, please. You know you’d rescue me even if I didn’t tell you to do it. Let’s face it. You like me far too much to let your scary fan girls hurt a single hair on my pretty head. Even if I harmed that supposedly glorious body of yours.” As she finished her statement, a little scenario ran through her mind of him gallantly sweeping in to save her from any danger. Maybe he would really be like some sort of knight in shining armour for her one day, but until then, she filed away the little scene in her memories for some lovely reminiscing when she had a spare moment in the future to look back on today.
Scoffing, she pretended to act snobby as she crossed her arms over her chest and replied, “Now I just feel insulted. If I couldn’t handle you, who could? Surely not those adoring fan girls of yours. They’d attack you on the streets and then probably faint when you try to fend them off with a smile or something.” Not that she really would ever have to handle him. But at the same time, she probably wouldn’t mind very much either. At this point, there was simply no way she could honestly say that she didn’t find him to be handsome. In the same way it was easy for her to respond to their flirty banter, she could also easily respond to advances made by guys. Though she had never been the most active member on the dating scene, her high school years had been filled with several boyfriends. It wasn’t as terribly difficult to talk to a male as some girls believed; all they needed was some experience, and she had plenty of that.
For a second, Desiree misheard Adam’s response to her comment about hobos in cosmetics. The main words that her ears had picked up were ‘make out,’ and the comment nearly made her choke on her breath. It took a few seconds, but she pieced together what he had meant and tried to pave over the embarrassment she felt at hearing his words out of context. Was it bad that she had this nagging feeling that she wouldn’t have minded sharing a kiss or two with him? But she didn’t answer that question and zoned back into her conversation with him. “Earn my trust, and then we can go sneaking around like ninjas. Until then, boring is good! And more amusing too. We can totally creep on people by staring at them until they feel uncomfortable and move away really quickly while shooting us odd looks.”
The whole idea was like a big inside joke until Adam seriously proposed that they go out for dinner. His treat. Wouldn’t that be a date though? And heavens knew that going out on a date with him would seriously be crossing over the already blurred lines between business and pleasure. She was really beginning to wade around in some murky waters, but the offer was so difficult to refuse. Although he had said it jokingly that she couldn’t resist him, the reality was that she was beginning to think that she really couldn’t. Trying to act nonchalant instead of hoping around on her sprained ankle and cheering ecstatically, she pretended that the decision was extremely difficult to make and tapped her chin in fake contemplation before shrugging and smiling. “Well, since you offered and said that it’d be your treat, then I suppose I’d be silly now to accept. One problem though. How do we get to wherever we’re going? I can’t really go far.” She gestured to the neatly wrapped gauze around her ankle as an emphasis, sending him a questioning look. adam. 1,156. heh, i rambled. <.< [tr][cs=2] |
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Post by adam evan mcdowell; on Feb 2, 2012 17:01:41 GMT -5
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
Adam shifted slightly, running his free hand through his blonde hair. A trait he'd had since childhood that marked his nervousness Adam grinned sheepishly at his Blanche. Though she wasn't per-say 'his' Adam couldn't help but feel slightly protective of the meager friendship they were striking up. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had an actual friend outside of his band mates, and their knowledge on his life was just skimming the surface. The idea of opening up and telling someone what he'd been exposed to felt wrong, it made him feel weak and certainly insecure. Therefore he used his good grace and humor to throw people off. Adam was also skilled at avoiding those digging questions others sent at him, but he knew that if Blanche began asking serious questions it would be harder to lie to her, or deflect her. She got that shit from people all the time, so of course she'd be able to figure out not all the dots connected.
When you come from a horrible past you tend to want to bury it in the closet and forget about the demons that threatened you on a daily basis. Adam had created a sort of mental wall around both his heart and thoughts. It took seventeen years for Adam to finally find people he actually believed like him as a human being and not a reason to keep around because of a check from social services each month. Seventeen years of battling demons, and they still haunted everyday. He was a private person, had never learned the correct way to trust people. Of course now there were a small handful he could trust but none whom he'd give the gory details of his past. People don't want to hear the harshness of life and death and what happens to those left behind. Some people preferred to be naive.
Taking in a breath and preparing for his Blanche to deny his request Adam gave her a soft smile. He was scared shitless. And he had no clue as to exactly why he was. This girl, the real one behind the pen and paper and laptop screen, attracted him. In more then just physical ways. Blanche was causing stirrings of things, hidden things, that made him want to run from the hospital and kiss her at the same time. The conflicting feelings were confusing, and certainly deserved later investigation. He'd asked her to dinner because the thought of them parting now and possibly never really speaking again bothered him. Adam knew he sure as hell wouldn't be able to avoid her in passing and the last thing he wanted was to gain the paparazzi's interest.
They had a way of sniffing out the details of someone's private life and ripping it apart. It had to be a humiliating experience, and with a past as dark as Adam's was he didn't want people knowing. More so, he didn't want his Blanche to even relate him to the people who'd brought him into this world. Adam was scared shitless of being watched by everyone, waiting to see if he'd snap like his father had. He knew that he wasn't, but that never stopped the thoughts that maybe one day he to could be capable of doing as his father had done. Call it self preservation but Adam wasn't ready to let it out just yet. But his Blanche was getting to him, that much was for sure.
As she spoke he listened intently, unable to ward off the relieved look that crossed his features. Replacing the look of vulnerability with a wolfish grin he nodded. "Alright Bea. You got me, I wouldn't let them, I'd probably even hid you." Adam winked, placing once more the mask of humor back on. He just wanted to play at being normal, without anything in his closet other then regular teenaged things. "Looks like we're stuck together then, I certainly don't want to have a girl fawning over me all the time." He grinned again, drawing pause as she spoke once more. Earning her trust. Somehow in that moment, Adam wanted nothing more then for her to trust him and for him to trust her. Thrown off slightly by her words he nodded, letting out a low laugh at the thought of creeping on others. "We'll need nicknames, you already got Blanche aka Bea. As for me, I request to be James Bond." He grinned again, shifting slighty as he shoved his darker thoughts away.
"I knew I was irresistable!" Adam spoke with a smile but then frowned as she brought up a good point. Turning his glance he caught the sight of a wheelchair in the corner, not in use and just waiting to be used. Turning back to his Blanche Adam grinned. "Ready for our first adventure Bea?" Moving closer to her Adam placed his mouth not far from her ear, resisting the temptation to touch her face as he whispered to her. "They say you have to take a risk in order to begin trusting someone. Take a risk on me Bea, I'll make it worth it." Pulling back from her ear he turned and grabbed the wheelchair. "If we get kicked out of the hospital though, I'm saying you put me up to it with that cute smile of yours." Smiling at his Blanche he pushed the wheel chair towards her, favoring his injured wrist slightly. "Now get your hot butt in here and lets go creep people out in the hospital cafeteria while using the cover-up of eating."
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Post by desiree jezebel de luca; on Feb 8, 2012 2:03:30 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 320px; background-image: url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/merr-1.jpg); border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em; -moz-border-radius: 3em 3em 3em 3em;]
have you ever been fake for the sake of saving face?
The more they spoke, the more the lines of propriety and professionalism became blurred. It seemed so silly that they were having a real conversation for the first time today, yet Desiree really believed that she might just be fully prepared to throw away a lot if she could have Adam by her side. At age twenty, she was supposed to know better, but it was as if time had backtracked and brought her back to her years as a teenager. Young, reckless, emotional, and thoughtless were things that had never plagued her in her younger years because an early taste of reality taught her to be responsible and mature, thinking over every decision she made after deep contemplation. Immaturity and irresponsibility seemed to be hitting late if she was really beginning to take emotion over reason. She wanted to excuse everything as hormones and silliness, but everything that had happened thus far felt so real. If she stretched out, her fingertips would brush over something that was tangible and real between them.
For a brief moment, she believed that she may have really been falling for him, but the idea proved to be overkill for her. Liking him as a friend was acceptable, but to actually be in love? She simply couldn’t accept that she could fall for anyone so hard so fast. They probably didn’t even trust each other enough to ever even consider the idea of something more. Adam would never tell her his secrets because he had a natural distrust towards a member of the paparazzi—and she understood that well enough that she would never hold it against him—and she still didn’t know him well enough to feel secure with dropping all her guards to let him see her softer side. It was almost a misdirected fear to loathe letting her peers see that she was a fairly kind girl in reality, but she simply didn’t want a repeat of being pushed around and used. It didn’t suit her to play the role of a wounded bird, nor would she ever want to be one. Sure, she wanted a knight-in-shining-armor to sweep her off her feet, but it was the idea of being charmed that appealed to her more than being rescued. But really, none of it mattered anyway because there was one thing she knew for sure: they would never be anything more than just friends. It was bad enough that she had accepted going to dinner with him. The only thing that made the whole thing acceptable was that they were going as friends, and she simply would and could not give into the way her mind danced around the idea of being unprofessional. After all, she wasn’t an amateur at her job, and it would be disgraceful for her to act like it.
In all honesty, the wall of distrust that stood between them bothered Desiree a little. She wondered if it would always be there, and while she resented the idea of its existence, she was also relieved. It would be a pleasant reminder that there were more than enough reasons why she needed to keep some sort of distance from Adam. Was the same sort of stuff going through her mind going through his as well? Though she was definitely curious, she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what the answer was.
Rolling her eyes playfully, she poked him on the ribs again. “Well, no matter. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself, but since you’re so nice, I’ll let you rescue me once in a while. But I expect you to swoop in from nowhere and save me, not just hide me. Hiding is wimpy!” She didn’t literally think he’d magically appear from the middle of nowhere to rescue her from sticky situations, but letting her imagination roam a little was still amusing. The only time she could ever really imagine needing rescue was when she was stuck interviewing someone on the violent side, but she would never risk letting him get hurt for her sake. “Not exactly. We might be stuck together for now, but one day you’re going to meet a girl that you run off into the sunset with. I doubt she’ll be able to handle your wit like I can, but still…it will happen someday.” She tried to talk nonchalantly, as if she didn’t quite care, but in reality, the idea of him ending up with another girl made her heart stir a little. Guilt crept up on her as she called herself selfish; maybe he wouldn’t be by her side forever, but she needed to be happy for him when he met that one special person.
Shaking the thoughts out of her mind, she raised her eyebrow sceptically when he stated that he wanted to be referred to as James Bond. Stifling a few giggles, she teased, “I can pull off being a Blanche or a Bea, but you are definitely not a James Bond. You’re not cool enough to be him, and you’re not nearly as buff as he was. No offense.” She used a light tone to let him know she was joking, though she honestly couldn’t see him as a James Bond. It just didn’t suit her image of him.
Scoffing, she replied, “You’re not irresistible! I’m just too nice, since I’m giving you a chance to take me out and all.” Desiree watched as he frowned at then redirected his glance elsewhere. She followed his gaze until she saw the unused wheelchair that he was looking at. Ready to protest, she turned to him, the words ready to be voiced, but immediately, she froze as she realized his close proximity. She briefly wondered when Adam got so close, but as he whispered in her ear, all she thought about was how his breath brushed over her ear. If she turned her head just a little and leaned forward a centimetre of two, she could kiss him. Though she had no intention of doing so, of course. It was still a possibility though. Relief flooded into her when he pulled away to bring the wheelchair over, and she took the split second to catch her breath and regain her composure. Feigning reluctance, she struggled to her feet and focused her weight in her uninjured ankle, making a swift turn and plopping down into the seat of the wheelchair. She crossed her arms and pouted like a petulant child, protesting, “No way! If we get caught, I’m saying it was your idea. After all, how can I sweet young lady like me resist when a rock star suggests something?”
Shifting a bit, she made herself more comfortable and added, “I can wheel myself down to the cafeteria, okay? You have an injured wrist and stuff, so I don’t want you hurting it any worse. It’d be no fun if we went to the cafeteria to creep and you were too busy sulking over how your wrist feels instead of pretending to eat.” She flashed him a smile to let him know she was joking, though she was genuinely concerned about him getting hurt. It would kill her a little on the inside if he further injured himself because of her. adam. 1,214. so sleepyyyy! [tr][cs=2] |
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