This made me laugh. Very cute!
iPawki wrote:
Catelina [f] | Trevor [m]
In·vert·ed.
Because opposites attract.
Marquee Moon wrote:
"the Cheshire" ♂ -&- "Little Pandemic" ♀
"Wait, seriously?"
"For sure."
I started into my best friend's startlingly green eyes, though they were not as startlingly green as the rest of him.
"You really want to?"
"I said so, didn't I?" He grinned. His trademark grin; innocently devious.
"Yeah, but I dunno. This is kinda serious... I mean, sure, it's not like we're doing graffiti or anything, but come on. If there are people around, they'll see us!"
"No they won't. Know why?" He flashed a little smile.
"I really doubt it, but why?" I was still wary of his plan.
"'Cause if the Cheshire and the Little Pandemic are on the loose, everyone's gonna cower in their corners till some Superman comes and saves 'em all!" He grinned again, and I giggled.
"But of course!" I rolled my eyes, still giggling.
"Seriously, though, there's nothing to worry abou- ow! Hey..." I had taken my opportunity while he was talking to sneak up from behind and leap on him, surprising me.
"You should have expected it! Then again, no one expects the Little Pandemic!"
"I did expect it, just not then," he defended himself, rolling his green eyes.
I pawed at his curled-up tail, and we started to wrestle a bit.
"Hey, that was my tail!"
"Watch it," I giggled, "you bit my ear!"
Finally tiring out, we retired to panting on the ground in something of a pile. I rolled over onto my back, and stared into his eyes while he stared into mine. I felt a bit of a flush coming to my cheeks.
"So," I panted. "Still on?"
"You know it, Pandemic. Tomorrow we ride." He flashed another smile.
"Cool. But can we just go over the plan once more?"
"Sure. So... tomorrow, we head on over to the school with some chalk. We write on the pavement, in huge letters, 'Cheshire and the Pandemic Pwn Your Soul.'"
"I'm in," I smiled.
It's fun when your best friend is the Cheshire, King of Pranks.
iPawki wrote:@● e r h y n ●: that's so clever <3iPawki wrote:
Catelina [f] | Trevor [m]
In·vert·ed.
Because opposites attract.
The girl was running now.
Just a few more steps, she was telling herself, I'm almost there.
Light freckles dappled her pretty face and her golden hair fell just below her shoulders - thin threads bobbed up and down as she ran, gracefully and silently. Low bangs concealed her forehead, and her eyes, a childish shade of blue, seemed to reflect her chronic pain. She wore no shoes, and the pale pink dress that she had on was becoming dirtied as she kept on running, running.
Mustn't stop now.
Later on, she would admit that she had been forcing herself, but looking back she would also admit that she would never regret the decision. Between death and love, the choice was almost always easy.
She was almost over the barrier, almost on the safe side of the world.
Hurry.
Catelina picked up a quicker pace, her feet moving rapidly as she pressed herself forward.
Almost there.
And then she heard the gunshot.
The sound was rather deafening, but Catelina hadn't noticed it at all. What she did notice, however, was the sickening pain that slithered through her leg. What she did notice, was the fact that she had gotten over the barrier. What she did notice, was the fact that she was dying - there she sat, on a small pond's edge, her regularly friendly blue eyes shut closed with the pain.
Catelina stared at her own reflection, but she didn't see herself - she couldn't find the dirtied, tired, weary girl with the golden hair and the blue eyes. He, in his own appearance, was ecstatic, amused; his eyes were a very pretty shade of yellow, but they were empty voids that stared at her solemnly. She could still tell that he was happy, though - everything else about the reflection in the pond told her so.
When he spoke, he outlined his words clearly, an amused expression embracing the reflection's face.
"I could heal of your problems, for... ahh - if only you could tell me those three simple words."
She looked at him silently, a throbbing pain expanding in her leg.
He spoke again, but this time his tone was gentle, serene; his eyes almost gained a certain sense of emotion as he looked at her.
"Those three simple words 'bout that pretty thing called love."
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