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Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lightly knocking on the door of his best friend's bedroom, William entered after a moment or so. Shutting it behind him, he glanced at the young woman occupying the room, her bare back turned to him. A small smile graced his lips as he observed the various tattoos that covered her skin, seeing his name on the back of her right shoulder among a few Tattoos of his own design. He was used to walking in on her in various states of undress, and both were perfectly comfortable like this around each other. She had treated enough of his injuries to see him in not much more than boxers or a towel some days, and she just didn't really care.
There was the slight lingering of cigarette smoke and her deodorant in the air, but that never bothered him. It was part of the sensory comforts he linked to her, and was indeed how the leather jacket he'd “borrowed” from her smelt.
He had let himself into her house, having a spare key. It was a gift from her for his 18th birthday (One of many), so that he could come and see his best friend whenever he pleased. Which was quite often, to the point where it would have been easier for him to move in were circumstances better
"C..can I stay the night please?" He spoke in his timid manner, eyes scanning the room. Her bedroom was so different to his room at home, from being considerably larger to the band posters, the records on the wall and the general disorder and lack of organisation to it. Her room reassembled a bomb site according to her parents, with clothing strewn everywhere, empty energy drink cans littering her desk and bedside table with a couple of full ashtrays in various places.
Despite this, he liked being here. It always made him feel safe and sound, both knowing his parents had no ability to get into her home let alone her room, and knowing that she'd protect him. After all, her arms were like castle walls. Protecting him from the outside world, and always tight around his smaller frame.
In his hands, he held two things. His left hand had his worn and loved sketchbook in it, something he was barely ever seen without. It was like a sort of... well, comfort blanket for lack of a better word. His art was important to him, ranking just underneath his best friend in his world. Her, his sketchbook, food. Those were his three keys to living, so he thought.
In his right hand was an ice cold can of her favourite drink, something he'd picked up from the grocery store on his way to see her. He knew she loved this drink, so would always bring her one. His steps were cautious as he walked towards her, eyes flickering up to meet her face as she stood up. She practically towered over him at her full height, compared to his mere 5 foot 5 inches.
Often, he would relax on seeing her face. But tonight, he was tense as he stood there. He was on edge, tired, and sore as hell. He just couldn’t relax in the slightest, tears brimming in his eyes as he made eye contact with her. He looked away, cheeks darkening and turning a deep red at the shame of starting to cry. But it wasn’t hard to see why. Bruising and swelling around his left eye showed he was struggling with the pain and discomfort of a black eye, among other cuts and bruises from a recent… altercation with his father. It wasn’t two-sided, but rather the smaller, blonde-haired boy being on the receiving end of it all.
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Punk/Tomboyish gal x Shy Boy.
18+ characters and writers.
Obviously I'm looking for someone to play as her. They're the best of friends, having first met about three years previously, following a merger of his high school with her own. This lead to classes being mixed together, students being sent between schools for classes and teaching staff moving from one campus to the other.
She is what you might call your typical rebel. She's been arrested more times than she cares to admit, though always for "minor" issues like graffiti, a little bit of shoplifting, a splash of underage drinking, vandalism and the like. Each time she's been caught and arrested, she has managed to get released on bail and her parents have just paid the fine to avoid further issues.
He's her opposite. He's polite, rather nervous and never breaks a single rule. He lives in a less than pleasant situation at home, and has slipped through the cracks and never really managed to get the help and support he needs. And indeed deserves. As a result of this, he was always a lonely and withdrawn sort who was often terribly frightened of having to face interaction with people.
But when they met, something just seemed to.. well, click into place. She grew rather protective of him over course of the first semester, and he seemed to be a somewhat calming influence on her. Teachers started to pair them together more, seeing her able to coax him out of his shell a little and him seeming to be able to make her behave a little better.
Of course, this is because she was nice to him and made him feel safe, and because she didn't want to risk getting booted out of school where she couldn't keep an eye on him.
Now they're incredibly close to the point where he's allowed in her room and bed whenever he needs to see her. He doesn't need her permission to come and see her, though he always seeks it as if unable to comprehend the idea that someone actually loves and cares for him!
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lightly knocking on the door of his best friend's bedroom, William entered after a moment or so. Shutting it behind him, he glanced at the young woman occupying the room, her bare back turned to him. A small smile graced his lips as he observed the various tattoos that covered her skin, seeing his name on the back of her right shoulder among a few Tattoos of his own design. He was used to walking in on her in various states of undress, and both were perfectly comfortable like this around each other. She had treated enough of his injuries to see him in not much more than boxers or a towel some days, and she just didn't really care.
There was the slight lingering of cigarette smoke and her deodorant in the air, but that never bothered him. It was part of the sensory comforts he linked to her, and was indeed how the leather jacket he'd “borrowed” from her smelt.
He had let himself into her house, having a spare key. It was a gift from her for his 18th birthday (One of many), so that he could come and see his best friend whenever he pleased. Which was quite often, to the point where it would have been easier for him to move in were circumstances better
"C..can I stay the night please?" He spoke in his timid manner, eyes scanning the room. Her bedroom was so different to his room at home, from being considerably larger to the band posters, the records on the wall and the general disorder and lack of organisation to it. Her room reassembled a bomb site according to her parents, with clothing strewn everywhere, empty energy drink cans littering her desk and bedside table with a couple of full ashtrays in various places.
Despite this, he liked being here. It always made him feel safe and sound, both knowing his parents had no ability to get into her home let alone her room, and knowing that she'd protect him. After all, her arms were like castle walls. Protecting him from the outside world, and always tight around his smaller frame.
In his hands, he held two things. His left hand had his worn and loved sketchbook in it, something he was barely ever seen without. It was like a sort of... well, comfort blanket for lack of a better word. His art was important to him, ranking just underneath his best friend in his world. Her, his sketchbook, food. Those were his three keys to living, so he thought.
In his right hand was an ice cold can of her favourite drink, something he'd picked up from the grocery store on his way to see her. He knew she loved this drink, so would always bring her one. His steps were cautious as he walked towards her, eyes flickering up to meet her face as she stood up. She practically towered over him at her full height, compared to his mere 5 foot 5 inches.
Often, he would relax on seeing her face. But tonight, he was tense as he stood there. He was on edge, tired, and sore as hell. He just couldn’t relax in the slightest, tears brimming in his eyes as he made eye contact with her. He looked away, cheeks darkening and turning a deep red at the shame of starting to cry. But it wasn’t hard to see why. Bruising and swelling around his left eye showed he was struggling with the pain and discomfort of a black eye, among other cuts and bruises from a recent… altercation with his father. It wasn’t two-sided, but rather the smaller, blonde-haired boy being on the receiving end of it all.
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Punk/Tomboyish gal x Shy Boy.
18+ characters and writers.
Obviously I'm looking for someone to play as her. They're the best of friends, having first met about three years previously, following a merger of his high school with her own. This lead to classes being mixed together, students being sent between schools for classes and teaching staff moving from one campus to the other.
She is what you might call your typical rebel. She's been arrested more times than she cares to admit, though always for "minor" issues like graffiti, a little bit of shoplifting, a splash of underage drinking, vandalism and the like. Each time she's been caught and arrested, she has managed to get released on bail and her parents have just paid the fine to avoid further issues.
He's her opposite. He's polite, rather nervous and never breaks a single rule. He lives in a less than pleasant situation at home, and has slipped through the cracks and never really managed to get the help and support he needs. And indeed deserves. As a result of this, he was always a lonely and withdrawn sort who was often terribly frightened of having to face interaction with people.
But when they met, something just seemed to.. well, click into place. She grew rather protective of him over course of the first semester, and he seemed to be a somewhat calming influence on her. Teachers started to pair them together more, seeing her able to coax him out of his shell a little and him seeming to be able to make her behave a little better.
Of course, this is because she was nice to him and made him feel safe, and because she didn't want to risk getting booted out of school where she couldn't keep an eye on him.
Now they're incredibly close to the point where he's allowed in her room and bed whenever he needs to see her. He doesn't need her permission to come and see her, though he always seeks it as if unable to comprehend the idea that someone actually loves and cares for him!