Summary:
The basket is set delicately in the grass and Nick automatically
takes some bread and tosses it to the ducks, who waddle up to catch
it in their mouths easily. "Nick, don't feed the ducks." I
warn, frowning as they come closer.
Beta: Lisa, MSWord.
Disclaimer: Oh, just good fun.
The felid of roses were beautiful this time of year, the different hues of reds and pinks and whites blurring together with tulips and daisies; honeysuckle permeating the air and the quiet ring of children's bicycle bells. It was Bob's idea really, he wanted to get out and sketch something since he felt that we were all a little too crowded inside the house.
I had to agree with him, although me and Nick basically had upstairs and Bob and Paul had down stairs we constantly argued over who owned what inside of the bathroom ("This is my fucking shampoo, okay? Can you read German!? No, then it's not yours.") and articles of food in the kitchen ("Lucky charms." Paul glared, picking up the box. "Eh-?" I begin when he continues, "Fuckin' Lucky Charms. Keep yer fuckin' hands off." Nick strolls in mockingly. "Oh, what happened to me lucky charms-" When the box collided with his head he glared at Paul angrily, rubbing the slowly rising lump.) So of course we had to go out to a lovely park, be secluded from the media and from everyone else.
Nick wore an adorable white brimmed sun-hat, even though he elegantly called it an "Elongated pimp hat" however, without the feathers and the...well, class. I was excited to go because I got to cook, and it's been a long time since my fingers have curled around a rolling pin. And well, Paul just wanted to be out in the sun, poor lad, he's paler than white bread. Yes, I know I am not one to talk, but it's gotten to the point where we can't do photo shoots behind white backgrounds.
The basket is set delicately in the grass and Nick automatically takes some bread and tosses it to the ducks, who waddle up to catch it in their mouths easily. "Nick, don't feed the ducks." I warn, frowning as they come closer.
"Ah, quiet Kapranos, you're just jealous because they're not after you for a change." He laughs, tossing them another piece.
I open my mouth to warn him again, but I opt not to and instead get up and walk past Paul, whose on a blanket sprawled out trying desperately to tan, and come over to the edge of the lake where Bob is sitting cross legged with his pad nestled in his lap.
I stand behind him with my hands on my hips, admiring his work quietly. Robert was always a lovely artist, he had a keen eye for anything with shape and contrast and absolutely loved fiddling around with colors and hues. But his portraits, well, they were breathtaking; vast sceneries of places that you would never think you've ever laid eyes on until he told you he drew it from looking outside your bedroom window. That's how good he was.
When he puts the pencil in his mouth and starts to chew I sit down besides him, raising my eyebrows at the drawing; the lake in front of us, reflecting every shimmer of the sun's delicate rays and a thousand sparkles of the pebble's smooth surface at the bottom of the pool. There are tall green reeds sprouting up from the pool, tiny wisps of gold and brown splattered and discreetly placed in there. I smiled, " Perfect?"
"Barely," He sighed, the wind ruffling his blond curls. I looked at him questioningly, leaning backwards into the grass and looking up into the brilliant blue sky. The sun's heat radiated through my body and I had the powerful urge to take off my shirt and jump into the pool but Nick, the little perv, would probably steal my clothes again, and I didn't feel like going through all of that. Bob sighed and fell besides me, hesitating before breathing out slowly, " You think we'll break up?"
"Never, Robert. We each have three dysfunctional boyfriends to take care of, breaking up is not an option. Eventually, yes: by old age only." I say this confidentially, biting my lip slightly. "Do you feel incomplete?"
"Sort of, like something’s missing." Bob's lips twitch when he speaks and I frown, sitting up when I hear a sharp cry echo out. I turn around and Nick's desperately trying to get the duck, whose got a good hold on his big round arse, to let go. As the duck's wings flail Paul gasps out between bouts of laughter that Nick thought it would be cute to stick some bread in his pants and let the ducks follow him around. Me and Bob share a glance and sit up at the same time, "Should I help him or let him suffer?" He smirks.
"I bloody told him..." I trail off, waving my hand off. "Ah, you finish your drawing, I'll help him."
Bob nods, starting to laugh as he reaches for his pad and turns towards us, flipping to a new page. I get up and stalk over to Nick, whose still running around in circles with ducks trying to fly up and bite him again and grasp his arm, trying to get him to still. Paul's waving away some of the ducks now as well, running around after them when another one jumps up and bites onto the bread in Nick's pants. He cries out and jumps and starts to run again, so I have to run to catch him, and Paul has to run to wave the rest of them away. And in all of this confusion I turn around and see Bob with the biggest smile on his face that he's had in the past 5 years.
Beta: Lisa, MSWord.
Disclaimer: Oh, just good fun.
The felid of roses were beautiful this time of year, the different hues of reds and pinks and whites blurring together with tulips and daisies; honeysuckle permeating the air and the quiet ring of children's bicycle bells. It was Bob's idea really, he wanted to get out and sketch something since he felt that we were all a little too crowded inside the house.
I had to agree with him, although me and Nick basically had upstairs and Bob and Paul had down stairs we constantly argued over who owned what inside of the bathroom ("This is my fucking shampoo, okay? Can you read German!? No, then it's not yours.") and articles of food in the kitchen ("Lucky charms." Paul glared, picking up the box. "Eh-?" I begin when he continues, "Fuckin' Lucky Charms. Keep yer fuckin' hands off." Nick strolls in mockingly. "Oh, what happened to me lucky charms-" When the box collided with his head he glared at Paul angrily, rubbing the slowly rising lump.) So of course we had to go out to a lovely park, be secluded from the media and from everyone else.
Nick wore an adorable white brimmed sun-hat, even though he elegantly called it an "Elongated pimp hat" however, without the feathers and the...well, class. I was excited to go because I got to cook, and it's been a long time since my fingers have curled around a rolling pin. And well, Paul just wanted to be out in the sun, poor lad, he's paler than white bread. Yes, I know I am not one to talk, but it's gotten to the point where we can't do photo shoots behind white backgrounds.
The basket is set delicately in the grass and Nick automatically takes some bread and tosses it to the ducks, who waddle up to catch it in their mouths easily. "Nick, don't feed the ducks." I warn, frowning as they come closer.
"Ah, quiet Kapranos, you're just jealous because they're not after you for a change." He laughs, tossing them another piece.
I open my mouth to warn him again, but I opt not to and instead get up and walk past Paul, whose on a blanket sprawled out trying desperately to tan, and come over to the edge of the lake where Bob is sitting cross legged with his pad nestled in his lap.
I stand behind him with my hands on my hips, admiring his work quietly. Robert was always a lovely artist, he had a keen eye for anything with shape and contrast and absolutely loved fiddling around with colors and hues. But his portraits, well, they were breathtaking; vast sceneries of places that you would never think you've ever laid eyes on until he told you he drew it from looking outside your bedroom window. That's how good he was.
When he puts the pencil in his mouth and starts to chew I sit down besides him, raising my eyebrows at the drawing; the lake in front of us, reflecting every shimmer of the sun's delicate rays and a thousand sparkles of the pebble's smooth surface at the bottom of the pool. There are tall green reeds sprouting up from the pool, tiny wisps of gold and brown splattered and discreetly placed in there. I smiled, " Perfect?"
"Barely," He sighed, the wind ruffling his blond curls. I looked at him questioningly, leaning backwards into the grass and looking up into the brilliant blue sky. The sun's heat radiated through my body and I had the powerful urge to take off my shirt and jump into the pool but Nick, the little perv, would probably steal my clothes again, and I didn't feel like going through all of that. Bob sighed and fell besides me, hesitating before breathing out slowly, " You think we'll break up?"
"Never, Robert. We each have three dysfunctional boyfriends to take care of, breaking up is not an option. Eventually, yes: by old age only." I say this confidentially, biting my lip slightly. "Do you feel incomplete?"
"Sort of, like something’s missing." Bob's lips twitch when he speaks and I frown, sitting up when I hear a sharp cry echo out. I turn around and Nick's desperately trying to get the duck, whose got a good hold on his big round arse, to let go. As the duck's wings flail Paul gasps out between bouts of laughter that Nick thought it would be cute to stick some bread in his pants and let the ducks follow him around. Me and Bob share a glance and sit up at the same time, "Should I help him or let him suffer?" He smirks.
"I bloody told him..." I trail off, waving my hand off. "Ah, you finish your drawing, I'll help him."
Bob nods, starting to laugh as he reaches for his pad and turns towards us, flipping to a new page. I get up and stalk over to Nick, whose still running around in circles with ducks trying to fly up and bite him again and grasp his arm, trying to get him to still. Paul's waving away some of the ducks now as well, running around after them when another one jumps up and bites onto the bread in Nick's pants. He cries out and jumps and starts to run again, so I have to run to catch him, and Paul has to run to wave the rest of them away. And in all of this confusion I turn around and see Bob with the biggest smile on his face that he's had in the past 5 years.
