Adair Fallon (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} fortunecookie) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} nosuchplace,@ 2008-04-01 21:02:00 |
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Tuesday: August 28, 2007
Who: Adair and Caden
Where: Cadar forest cottage
When: Afternoon
What: Adair is feeling crappy and needs his bff XD (aka awesome Caden and Adair-ness)
"Come on motherfucker!" Adair fumbled for another lighter as he tossed his Pink Floyd zippo across the room. His hands were shaking, trembling so harshly that when he managed to get a match from a shelf, it literally danced from in between his fingers.
"Come on Adair. Just a dream. Just a fucken dream."
The psychic was sweating so harshly, it looked like he had just bathed and he was struggling to stay awake. Adair had slept, over slept. Slept past anyone should sleep. He felt sick, should have puked ages ago but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Adair was the type of person that would vomit-then vomit again because he vomited. Yuck, why was he thinking about it?
"SHIT!"
The match was lit, but burned his middle finger of all fingers. Talk about a sign from somewhere that he shouldn't be smoking. Figures. Fucken Adair-Caden forest cottage figures.
Speaking of which. Adair needed to put out the match which was still lit, the flame dancing about until he put it out with the shoes he weakly put on. Finally, he threw on some clothes and managed to stagger out into the hallway, downstairs and towards the kitchen. Adair rubbed at his eyes seeing if Caden was there.
"Caden! You awake mate?!" He rubbed at his eyes. All Adair wanted to do was try and forget his nightmare and try calm his urge to barf. He didn't want to barf on Caden. That would suck.
Who: Adair and Caden
Where: Cadar forest cottage
When: Afternoon
What: Adair is feeling crappy and needs his bff XD (aka awesome Caden and Adair-ness)
"Come on motherfucker!" Adair fumbled for another lighter as he tossed his Pink Floyd zippo across the room. His hands were shaking, trembling so harshly that when he managed to get a match from a shelf, it literally danced from in between his fingers.
"Come on Adair. Just a dream. Just a fucken dream."
The psychic was sweating so harshly, it looked like he had just bathed and he was struggling to stay awake. Adair had slept, over slept. Slept past anyone should sleep. He felt sick, should have puked ages ago but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Adair was the type of person that would vomit-then vomit again because he vomited. Yuck, why was he thinking about it?
"SHIT!"
The match was lit, but burned his middle finger of all fingers. Talk about a sign from somewhere that he shouldn't be smoking. Figures. Fucken Adair-Caden forest cottage figures.
Speaking of which. Adair needed to put out the match which was still lit, the flame dancing about until he put it out with the shoes he weakly put on. Finally, he threw on some clothes and managed to stagger out into the hallway, downstairs and towards the kitchen. Adair rubbed at his eyes seeing if Caden was there.
"Caden! You awake mate?!" He rubbed at his eyes. All Adair wanted to do was try and forget his nightmare and try calm his urge to barf. He didn't want to barf on Caden. That would suck.