Date: December 5, 2006
Music for this fic: Bipolar Porter.
Porter is my favorite band in English, I'm your bitch, really. And this song, Bipolar is a work of art, love beyond my power amatory, so much I love this song. I chose this chapter because it changes constantly, because it is soft in some parts and then grabs a tremendous force, and the chapter develops more or less than that.
Chapter 2: Among the steam I am looking
time spent as a train could not stop. "OlReader already, or maybe it was that had decided the whole room started to spin on its own to entertain a while. You smiled at the stupidity of your own thoughts. And then feel that your arm was in contact with other skin. And what life was curious, because you turned to see the person sitting next to you and was, of course, Camus.
you were sitting next to him without realizing it. His body was a magnet that attracted you mercilessly. While you had been drinking beer on the table, he had left the third floor and sat on the couch, then you came you not realize that he was already sitting there. And smiled more when you realize how ridiculous it was everything. Away from him, I had, again, ineluctablye. And then he had sighed and told you did not know what punishment to wear because, obviously, you never understand anyway.
need you to go home and tell the guy who is painting that I need to paint the windows of almond. Did not understand what kind of punishment that was, but inevitably would have to do this if you wanted to get another stupid penalty. Director went home and gave him the message to the boy who was painting the house. And so you met Camus, the boy house painter.)
.
dresses like a girl kissing a guy in a chair near the door, it looked ugly, do not know if it was because the boy seemed to devour the lips of the girl, or did not eras you who was using your lips to kiss other lips. You looked
Camus then, you could not help looking, it was like something that was programmed into your cells, some of your genes that made you turn to him after the lapse of some minutes, maybe if more than thirty minutes without you to see, your eyes all the veins burst and shed blood for your cheeks. So you saw it. And he felt your gaze and looked at you as well. Pressed the beer glass in your hand and creaked slightly under pressure. Camus was so beautiful that sometimes upset the beat of your heart, altered with little spasms that made your hands lose their normal temperature and cold again at any moment. CHTM
LXC "I guess now everything will change between them," said very softly, like a murmur, perhaps as an apology. His eyes held yours for a moment and then looked forward again, her eyes also landed on the girl kissing the boy, maybe he also wanted to use his lips to yours.
Or maybe not. In an instant, he stood up and walked four steps toward the kids devouring each other, ie, walked toward the front door, toward the exit. Then I turned and looked. His face clearly saying, do not you think to come?
And perhaps that was in your genes what Camus said were orders for you. Without thinking, more like a reflex, you got theecibió with two blows, or at least it felt that cold air hit you in the face. You wanted to reach into the back pockets of your pants, but did not. Camus walked alongside to the corner of the street was probably the one in the morning, perhaps both, were not very safe, the only thing we do know for sure was that I was incredibly nervous.
reached the corner and with a sigh Hesitation your steps. If you wanted to go home, you had to walk to the right, while the road to the house was left Camus. It was time that everyone left for a different direction, you were not ready to say goodbye because they do not know if it was the last goodbye, if it was the final farewell between the two,which would be very sad, considering you were not at your five senses to one hundred percent, beer and the air made you feel a bit confused. "We'll see ... soon." You said softly, your voice was stuck somewhere in your subconscious.
Camus shook his head.
Your heart stopped for a second. Do not want to see you again? Your answer was answered when you took your wrist and pulled to the left side: I wanted you to go home with him. Thought that this would be prohibited for you, you believed that what you said you had canceled a few minutes ago that it had done for the past two days: leaving school and went home from Camus to eat, then took the task together, and finallyyou, about nine o'clock at night after having listened to music or watched a movie, reclined on the bed of Camus and looked at the ceiling, giving up eleven or twelve o'clock and you were leaving your house to repeat the same route the next day.
"Want to go to your house?" There was much surprise in your tone, a lot of disbelief and fear some big strokes. Camus
nodded and let your wrist. He started walking without noting anything else.
And, of course, against your will, or maybe your will was all in favor, "you followed.
(My name is Milo, you said when he received the paint. Camus had opened the pot and had revised the paint color that d
