Post by Ashley Ian Days on Dec 13, 2012 14:37:50 GMT -6
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #226666; width:300px; height: 490px; padding:0px;] [style= position: relative; top: -8px; left: 1px;] [/style] I'm sick with love, Sick like a disease. Don't call me up Just so I can please you. I can't stand the way you're smiling. I can't stand the way I'm lying. I know, I know, I know you got the key. And you know, you know, [style= letter-spacing: 3px]you know that it's for me |
TAGGED: evelyn WORDS: 0739
It was much too early for any normal person to be awake on a Saturday. Normal meaning anyone who was not a college student preparing for finals. Ian had gotten up, taken a hurried shower, and gotten dressed before leaving his apartment to go to the library on campus. He could have studied at home, but at home he was much too comfortable. He would end up getting distracted too easily there (not that he did not get distracted everywhere, but that was beside the point). So, he found the table he usually claimed (it was the perfect table; right next to a window and a power outlet to plug in his computer), and spread his stuff out on top of it. His textbooks were open to chapters he needed to read (highlighted in yellow for the really important things, and pink for the moderately important things, and green just because). There were study guides piled up as well, but for the time being, he was working on the final copy of his creative writing assignment. He was supposed to write a 500 word (or more) short story that had already been peer-edited in the class workshop. Due to the criticism that he had received, Ian's story was taking an entirely new turn; but, he liked it. The hyperactive young man absently bounced his knee as he typed, humming faintly to himself with the music that was playing through his earphones. It was much too quiet without. Ian really wished he had thought to get one of his friends to join him there in the library. Studying with someone was so much better than doing it alone, even if no words were exchanged. Just having someone there was enough for Ian. He liked it. Ian wondered if Derek was somewhere on campus and smiled faintly to himself before forcing himself to focus on the story again. It was not the time to let his mind wander to other things. Finals were important.
He was going to fail. He knew it and felt like letting someone else know it, too. That was the point when, if he had someone to study with, he'd whine and say that he was going to fail, he just knew it. Then, they'd both give each other pep talks about getting through the material, rewards of coffee and candy for every bit of good studying or writing done, and they'd go back to work in better moods. He really did spend way too much time studying. Ah well. Holiday break began as soon as he finished his last final (algebra, ick), and then there would be no classes until later in January. It would be a new semester with new classes. Ian was excited. He would be taking Roman Mythology (with an emphasis on fantastical beasts), poetry, Creative Writing 215, Art 115, physical education (say, hello, sprains and bruises), and English 315. It would be fun, for the most part. Gym was going to kill him. Slowly and painfully, too. At least it would be mostly indoors since it would be cold for half of the semester. Maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe. Unless they played dodge ball or something. Ohlord. Hopefully he could just run around the indoor track a few times every class. That would be good. He could run. He was a good runner. When he wasn't tripping over his own two feet. Another story there, though. Ian was about to get up and get himself some coffee from the small stand there in the main lobby of the library when he spotted a familiar blonde. "Evelyn!" he said with a brilliant smile, sitting up straighter in his seat. "What're you doing here? D'you wanna sit? I swear my head's about to explode. You should distract me. Unless you were here to study too. Then, you should join me. Or not, if you're meeting someone you should do that. Heh." He probably would have said more (sometimes, he really did not have an off filter), but something told him it was time to be quiet and let her answer. Evelyn was older, but Ian was really starting to care about her. She was nice, a bit reserved, but nice; and, they had a lot in common, which made talking to her easier. He was an art minor, and from what he had gathered, she was really into all things art related.
He was going to fail. He knew it and felt like letting someone else know it, too. That was the point when, if he had someone to study with, he'd whine and say that he was going to fail, he just knew it. Then, they'd both give each other pep talks about getting through the material, rewards of coffee and candy for every bit of good studying or writing done, and they'd go back to work in better moods. He really did spend way too much time studying. Ah well. Holiday break began as soon as he finished his last final (algebra, ick), and then there would be no classes until later in January. It would be a new semester with new classes. Ian was excited. He would be taking Roman Mythology (with an emphasis on fantastical beasts), poetry, Creative Writing 215, Art 115, physical education (say, hello, sprains and bruises), and English 315. It would be fun, for the most part. Gym was going to kill him. Slowly and painfully, too. At least it would be mostly indoors since it would be cold for half of the semester. Maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe. Unless they played dodge ball or something. Ohlord. Hopefully he could just run around the indoor track a few times every class. That would be good. He could run. He was a good runner. When he wasn't tripping over his own two feet. Another story there, though. Ian was about to get up and get himself some coffee from the small stand there in the main lobby of the library when he spotted a familiar blonde. "Evelyn!" he said with a brilliant smile, sitting up straighter in his seat. "What're you doing here? D'you wanna sit? I swear my head's about to explode. You should distract me. Unless you were here to study too. Then, you should join me. Or not, if you're meeting someone you should do that. Heh." He probably would have said more (sometimes, he really did not have an off filter), but something told him it was time to be quiet and let her answer. Evelyn was older, but Ian was really starting to care about her. She was nice, a bit reserved, but nice; and, they had a lot in common, which made talking to her easier. He was an art minor, and from what he had gathered, she was really into all things art related.
OUTFIT: here NOTES: ohai. he's talkative. x.x
[/center][/td][td][atrb=style, background: #226666; width:150px; height: 500px; padding:0px;][style= width: 450px; font-family: blackjack; font-size: 30px; color: #dd6666; text-shadow: 1px 0px 1px #333333; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: -2px; float: right; position: relative; top: 85px; left: 80px]
this template was designed by mousey of caution2.0.
steal it and she'll sic the weeping angels on you.[/center]
