TAKE ME BY THE TONGUE AND I’LL KNOW YOU
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KISS ME ‘TIL YOU’RE DRUNK AND I’LL SHOW YOULOOK INTO MY EYES AND I’ll OWN YOU[/size][/font]
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[/i] Xavier could barely drag himself about his dorm to get ready that morning. Sure, he had always been a morning person but not without a decent cup of coffee. Due to the unsightly hour, the coffee maker felt as if it was taking eras to brew a small pot. Not even bothering to dirty another glass, Xavier drank his caffeinated beverage straight out of the kettle once it was fully prepared and cooled down some. But
only some, as he burnt his tongue with the steaming liquid. That would surely be pleasant thing to deal with later in the day. Once properly fueled up, Xavier allowed himself to go on with his day, as usual. It was quite out of the ordinary for him to rise early on a Saturday morning. He thoroughly enjoyed watching the menagerie of people that stumble into the main education building for their, what he liked to call, suicide classes. Because who in their right mind would have a class so early on a Saturday? But nonetheless, it bode for decent entertainment and kindled his muse for new and different sub-plots.
Stalking the grounds, towards the main education building, Xavier was bundled up; knowing full well it was going to be quite chilly so early in the morning. Dew clung to grass as he tramped through it. The sun had not yet exposed itself from beyond the horizon and was not yet ready to call it a new day on the grounds of Wigmore. In the distance, he could hear a rave still going on, likely, at someone’s dorm. Shaking his head in mild disgust, Xavier pulled his headphones up over his ears and blasted the poppy, techno beat into his skull. A chill shuttered through him and, without thinking, he zipped up his jacket over his hooded sweatshirt and shoved his hands deep into the abyss of his pockets.
Soon enough, Xavier found himself strolling through the major corridor of the main education building and on his way to the cafeteria – the area of most traffic in the morning. As a seventh year student, he used his familiarity of the campus to take a short cut which led him directly past the auditorium. That place where all the drama geeks performed. Usually, Xavier attempted to avoid drama majors at all costs. He had yet to meet a decent one that was not completely obsessed with… drama. And we’re not just talking about the kind you see on the stage. But yet, he still took the risk of running into one by passing near the studio. Xavier wasn’t going to pass up a short cut. Besides, not many people were in the building at the time. However, the halls were still lit, as all schools are after hours, for security reasons, of course.
But something made Xavier stop cold as he passed the auditorium. One of the many doors to it was slightly ajar, revealing a thread of light emitting from the belly of the beast. Curiosity overcoming him, he took off his headphones and let them rest upon his shoulders, around his neck. It wasn’t until then when he could hear her. Silently, even in combat boots, Xavier peered around the corner of the door and looked into the expansive room. A blonde girl, likely a year or two below him, was off in her own world rambling a monologue. Xavier’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t exactly a monologue as what looked to be a serious outbreak of a multi-personality disorder. He figured she was playing two different parts. But the strangeness of it all drew him. Making no nose so to not disturb, Xavier took the closest seat to him. It was near one of the last rows of the vibrant red velvet and on the aisle, nearest the door he had entered. Pulling out his leather-bound notebook out of his satchel, he began scratching notes in it. It was slightly startling how much emotion she put in it. Then it became more of a realization to Xavier. This monologue – if that’s even what you could’ve called it – had to mean more to her than a simple monologue. Not even the best actors and actresses in the world could pull off something like what she was without some sort of drive, or root passion looped in with the words being spoken.
Xavier wasn’t paying attention to her words so much as her gesticulations. They were so honest and exaggerated and full of sincerity that he couldn’t help but draw some snippets of plots from her. He loved observing people in their natural setting. Humans are simply fascinating. But then it was as if the room had frozen cold. The girl collapsed, dead. A quizzical, inquiring frown set between his thick, dark brows. It was out of nowhere. Perhaps if Xavier had been paying closer attention to her words it would’ve made sense. He guessed it was simply a part of her performance which he had so rudely intruded upon; he wasn’t certain he was particularly welcome as a viewer. She didn’t move though. Xavier’s confused scowl deepened as he attempted to understand. When it was as the last puzzle piece had been set in its place and the picture was clear. The girl. She was crying.
The gears inside of Xavier’s mind – in that region of his mind, anyway – seemed nearly rusted to a stop. It had been so long since he had dealt with emotional women first hand, he almost didn’t know what to do but sit there like a Neanderthal for a moment. Slowly he rose to his feet and walked, sure with every step he made, to the stairs leading up to the stage. Xavier knew he had to say something.
And for the love of all that is holy, something in English. But what? For a writer, one would think it to be inescapably easy to muster up some words that float around God’s green earth and shove them together into a complete sentence. But nothing came. Xavier just stood. Stood as a befuddled statue. He didn’t know how long he remained motionless. His voice was slow, simple and husky. It didn’t even sound like his own. "
Etes-vous bien?” Heck, for a moment or two, he didn’t even think it was his own. An odd look stretched across Xavier’s strong features. He had surprised himself; it was rare when he spoke French. Xavier ran his hand through his dark dreadlocks and glanced away awkwardly, unsure how to handle the situation especially after he had broken the silence.
Though, he felt like it, feared to leave. What kind of human was he to leave her so broken? But he didn’t know her. Well, that was a lie, she
looked familiar. For all Xavier knew, she might shun him for all he’s worth. [/ul]
TAGS/ (brianna) WORDCOUNT/ (1,145) OUTFIT/ (hurr)
TEMPLATECREDIT/ (MAKEASCENEHANNA?! OF CAUTION v2!)
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