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Post by avery jane smith on Aug 18, 2012 17:55:35 GMT -5
Avery noticed that he smiled at her bitch comment, an listened to his comment, "I'm very sure that that's how it would go down." she replied, trying to keep looking at the white part of his eyes and not directly into them. She watched his body structure change, then listened to his statement, "Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart." she said, it was in a sarcastic tone.
Avery was always very good with all things dealing with her school work, so she knew where his statement came from. Not like it was very hard.
Hearing his answer, "or I could wait until your sober." she answered, in a sarcastic tone but being around him, really wanted to have a glass of wine. She enjoyed having to make him do some form of physical activity while he's all drugged out on most likely every drug he got his hands on.
Avery grew up with mostly males so she could hit like a guy, she always tried not to let herself hit her friends. She tool note that after she pulled him down, he went straight into a sitting position. "seems that way, huh?" she replied, glancing over at him. She was already laying on her back when he laid back, he threw her leg over his while looking at the stars. "I'm going to say something, that you may or may not remember the next morning." she started then added, "you was right, about me liking you. Not the drooling part." she said, looking towards him.
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Post by gatsby oscar tanner on Aug 18, 2012 18:17:41 GMT -5
a cornucopia of opiates are flooding my head
Gatsby looked at her with wide, condescending, disbelieving, incredulous eyes. Gatsby had always been told that his dark eyes were rather magnetic – that they drew you in and left you with no escape. His eyes were definitely expressive – they betrayed his emotions all too often but Gatsby liked to think of himself as an open book, so that didn’t matter. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He said sweetheart to mock her mocking him. It was a little childish, a little silly but he was trying to flirt with her in the playground style. Gatsby wondered if people thought of him as a naughty school boy – probably not, more likely a dirty, junkie delinquent with stupid, greasy hair… Thinking about this depressed Gatsby and he shook the thoughts out of his head. “Or I could wait until you’re sober?” She suggested, Gatsby smirked and pointed a finger in the air as if there was supposed to be an idea light bulb appearing by the side of his head, “Maybe I should sign a waiver?” He chortled, wiping his nose between his fingers and thumb obsessively, hoping there was no evidence of his indiscretion on his face. That would be embarrassing. The last thing he needed was for the media to have proof of his speculated drug addiction… as if spending two hours in a sushi restaurant alone because he forgot to invite the other person wasn’t proof enough… A lazy smile overtook Gatsby’s face when she agreed that she was compromising his integrity. She put her leg over his, so they were intertwined and Gatsby’s smile widened, he lay back down to look at the stars with her. “This is rather romantic.” Gatsby scarcely made a sound when he said this. He was saying it more to himself than he was to her. “You were right about me liking you.” Avery said, Gatsby turned his head to look at her to find her looking right at him. “I tend to assume that when I like someone, they like me back.” He said very slowly, never breaking eye contact. He felt like his whole body was shaking really fast – vibrating if you will. The drugs were really beginning to seep into his system now and he wished that they could go for a jog along the beach. That wouldn’t be as romantic…
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Post by avery jane smith on Aug 20, 2012 23:16:41 GMT -5
Avery rolled her eyes at the look in his eyes, that he was giving her. Then she had to listen to him, mocking her right back, that was annoying. How could like someone like him. "I say everything that is right with life." she responded in him an impassive look, showing absolutely no emotion in her fasical structure or even in her eyes. Of course, this trait came in handy with her being an interviewer. She didn't even like the job, on most days and was every once in awhile looking for another job. It was pretty easy to be emotionless with her personality stance. She didn't really have a good home life, how people usually think. It was complicated, she only had brothers. . no sisters, just boys.
Hearing his response, she playfully rolled her eyes as her finger tips grazed against the sand. "I have a feeling that you won't need that." she answered, with a sly smirk. "Did you get another fix?" she questioned, after watching him scrubbed off the stuff off his nose, "Will there ever be a chance that your sober before I hang out without?" she said, partly scolding. "How long was you there before I showed up?" she asked him, she could remember if she asked him before and she noticed that most of the people there just wanted some peace and she wanted to have a one on one time. She liked these times in small doses with everyone, considering her severe lack of liking people.
When she had her leg over his, she listened to him and it didn't occur to her that it could be taken as romantic, she just randomly decided. This wasn't planned, but maybe it was meant to happen. Maybe, just maybe. "I guess." she responded to him, unfortunately, no one really gave her romance, she was the one that had to pull ideas out of her head to spice up relationships. Maybe that was another reason why she hadn't dated in God knows how long ago. After she told him about her feelings, that annoyed her that she let herself feel, she heard his response and noticed how he would let go of her eyes. "That always doesn't happen, lover boy." she said, adding a mocking name. She didn't like to be called cute little nicknames when being adorable. But she wasn't done with mocking him yet, plus she might have been a little nervous about anything that could happen while they're laying on the beach. She grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers, looking down breaking contact to make sure she grabbed his hand when she did and when she was done; she looked back up at him.
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Post by gatsby oscar tanner on Aug 22, 2012 5:55:54 GMT -5
i couldn't find it anywhere so i turned to drugs
Gatsby smiled and nodded when she suggested that said everything that was right with life – he supposed it was true, she told it how it is. Gatsby flinched when she asked if he got a fix. Anger flared in his stomach but he just pressed his lips together and listened to the rest of her questions. When she finished asking, Gatsby looked at her with his cold, angry eyes and said, “I really don’t think it’s any of your fucking business.” He said this as steadily as he could but the anger seemed to seep through. He took a deep breath, trying to cool his temper and gazed at her with a softer look in his eyes. Maybe he had reacted a little too angrily but the implication that he was a drug addict was just something that Gatsby couldn’t face. He could stop whenever he wanted, he just didn’t want to yet. Gatsby hated that people in the business seemed to think of him as a junkie or a drunk or an addict of any type. Gatsby wasn’t getting a fix, he was getting high, for fun, it was all just fun! The only things Gatsby believed he was addicted to were music and cigarettes. His brother was an addict: he was in hospital once a month with an overdose, had no money and barely clung to a job. His father was an addict: he was thirty eight, living at home, gambled every penny and drank all his winnings. By their standards, Gatsby was not an addict, not at all. But not everyone looked at it the same way that Gatsby did, and that is where the conflict would arise. Gatsby was enjoying looking up at the night sky, it was so navy, but so intensely blue at the same time. Every star looked like the flash of a camera. Looking up at the sky made Gatsby feel very small and very famous all at once. Avery took his hand and Gatsby found himself weaving his fingers in-between hers with a small, shy smile playing on his features. There was something about this that in his strung out mind seemed a lot more saucy than it really was. “I guess I have a sixth sense.” He smiled at her slightly. He tilted his head, so he was looking directly into her eyes and studied her for a moment, unable to read her expression or guess what she was thinking. Gatsby was a bit of an open book, he sort of loved it but he also hated that about himself, it made him so vulnerable and weak. “What are you thinking right now?” Gatsby demanded with a pouty smile playing on his lips.
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Post by avery jane smith on Aug 26, 2012 11:56:33 GMT -5
Avery knew his reaction was coming and it was official knowledge that he was into drugs. She personally wanted nothing to do with the substance; however, she liked this guy. Hearing him made her narrow her eyes, her right hand balled into a fist and she had to start fighting the urge to punch his lights out now. "Your lucky we're in public." she warned him, as she started to lower her whole anger management deal. Then a moment later she appeared nutrual with the situation at hand. She sometimes didn't know how to handle people; she's socially awkward at times, but that might not be the case.
As they was on there journey towards the beach, she stayed silent thinking about some of her other family members that died using the very addictions that he seemed to be on. It's like she just couldnt get away from the stuff. It was highly annoying. She no longered had a biological mother and was almost put into foster care when she was a newborn baby. Her mother overdosed on a pescription sleeping drug and alcohol, mixing any form of pills and alcohol is deadly, as if she already noticed that from personal experience. Her grandfather died from lung and mouth cancer from tobacco uses. She was thick shelled for a reason; she didn't want to get attached to any living or no living thing. It was usually the way she rolled.
The sky was filled with Avery's deepest darkest secrets, but she was thankful that only she would be able to see it. She found herself holding his hand, with the tiniest small traced upon her lips; a small amount of happiness entered throughout her body, but only for a moment before she started shutting it down. Hearing his statement, before turning her head back to look at him. "So what do you suppose we do now?" she asked, with the sliest of smirks. She heard his next question dealing with what she was thinking about, "how drugs and such have killed my family members and even if you was on them, I wouldn't leak it out. i'm not working, silly goose." she admitted, but tried to make it on the lighter things.
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