Nicholas Craine || Agravaine (thearrogant) wrote in monte_rpg, @ 2012-04-25 21:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | [minilog], agravaine |
[Nicholas sat in the spare bedroom he designated as his study. A bottle of scotch rather than his usual beer sat beside him on the desk. He stopped working hours ago, the memories of songs being sung by a beautiful woman with long auburn hair overtaking him the point where he started typing her words into his essay. He didn't mind some of the strange occurrences, but this one hit him deep in his Grinch-sized heart. It had been a year since he last thought of her, many more since he saw her. Tipping back the last of the liquid in his glass, he wondered what she was doing now, what she looked like, and if she still hummed while making dinner.
Angrily, he picked up the bottle and let the neck crash onto the rim of the tumbler. It made a loud ting but didn't crack the glass. When the amber color took over the emptiness, he tipped the bottle back and practically dropped it on the wood. A dull thud echoed throughout the room. He grabbed the glass, making sure not to spill a drop and leaned back against his cheap creaking wooden desk chair. It seemed like a good purchase at the time, something to keep him focusing on his work rather than focusing on relaxing, but now he wished he went for the leather one with the high back or simply one that just leaned. After a couple of large sips, he eyed his matches and carton of Marlboros. Nicholas didn't make a move to get them. Instead, he closed his eyes and let his memory play with him.
He was soon in a different time. A woman in a long dress was running just out of reach of him. As much of a knight he was, he still had urges that all men had, and she was lucky enough to be chosen. His mind jumped before he reached her to a town he knew was German despite not having a proper clue such as a sign or landmark. He was standing around with a group of men, talking about this and that. The one woman he wanted was in a different room, but the memories of what they did the night before played out before him, making him smirk. Without a warning, he moved from from the thoughts of milky thighs and soft breasts to water and a distant beach called Omaha. He was thinking about the last time his girl back home smiled at him. Compared to his other lives, it was all pretty tame. His mind bounced out of there quickly. The only logical place to go next was his current life, the relationship that was moving along nicely until she started seeing how fucked up he actually was. She was singing to him, a Rolling Stones tune he liked, but he was already closed off, already gone.
Nicholas' eyes flew open, and he downed the scotch. He absolutely hated the way this campus could get under his skin.]