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rainbowfic2015-08-15 11:36 pm
starphotographs) wrote in rainbowfic2015-08-15 11:36 pm
Entry tags:
Baby Pink 7
Name: starphotographs
Story: Universe B
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival, Lilith Fair Second Stage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_pMYbleHpU)
Characters: Kelsey (POV), Zach
Colors: Baby Pink 7 (Rule number one: don't cook shirtless.)
Word Count: 812
Rating: PG
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Kelsey decides she’d been too quick to judge.
Note: I feel like I already wrote things with her that fit the song better, but this is what this one turned in to.
Who are You? (Do I Already Know?)
Zach comes over here and does things, so I don’t have to stop what I’m already doing. Which, for me, can be a disastrous pain in the ass.
It’s actually his job; doing things so other people don’t have to. He takes his orders from Barry, and, among other things, Barry orders him to come over here.
With me, he doesn’t do anything specific. Just wanders around and sees if anything needs doing. Maybe he’ll clean the kitchen or the rat cage, or scrub out the bathroom, or scrape the sides of the tank and feed the fish, whichever of those I haven’t gotten around to. And I’ve always taken my time getting around to things, so I appreciate him. But, “appreciate” hasn’t always meant “like.”
I mean, I don’t hate him or anything. I just got the impression that he was pretty dumb, so I kept my distance. Kept myself to hello, goodbye, and thank you. Now, being certain kinds of dumb can be cause for avoiding someone, but I wasn’t sure if he was even one of the wrong kinds of dumb. And how I decided he was makes me sound pretty dumb myself.
When Zach is here, he usually makes some kind of food before he leaves. One of the first times, it was summer, and the air conditioning in my apartment complex was broken. So he draped his shirt over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and started making tuna salad sandwiches. This struck me as unsanitary, so I kicked him out of my apartment right then and there.
Later, when I had time to think about it, I started laughing, because I wasn’t wearing a shirt, either. It was just too damn hot.
He did a few little stupid things after that, which weren’t a big deal on their own, but taken together, were enough to convince me that he didn’t have any sense.
Which is also pretty hilarious, because it’s not like I’ve never been accused of having my head screwed on wrong.
*****
What I’m saying is, I’ve known him for a long time without really knowing him. I greeted and thanked him, when I noticed him in time to put the words together. Sometimes, when he’d been working particularly hard, I’d make him some kind of gift. Which he always liked. I even noticed that he wore the rainbow hemp bracelet I made him long enough for it to start getting that grey tinge along the bumpy edge of the sennet.
I’ve never really understood how most people measure time, but I know string turning grey means a good, long stretch of it. As does seeing him walk in the door, then watching Chess and Puddingstone run up to wind around his legs, instead of running into the bedroom, or, a little later, doing nothing at all.
Realizing someone you thought was really stupid may not be stupid after all… Well, that might as well be a lifetime. Especially for someone like me.
All this time, this man has been wandering in and out of my house, and we don’t really know anything about each other.
I mean, I know the basics. That he was in grad school for something interesting and biological for about six months before he dropped out of school to go become a busker. And then somehow went from there to Barry.
I’m not sure what he really knows about me. Probably more than I know about him. You can learn a lot from looking at someone’s stuff. And he looks at all my stuff at least twice a week.
That alone makes me feel like it’s only right that I ask him a few questions about himself.
*****
Zach is clanking around in the kitchen. I think he told me he was making a casserole. But that was a while ago, so he must be about to take it out of the oven. I’m curled up on the couch with Chess, marathoning a TV series that I’ve already marathoned before, playing with my freshy-dyed hair. I study my fingernails. They’re teal now, and I didn’t even have to paint them.
The oven door creaks behind me. The characters on the screen are doing the same old things they always have. Same old adventures on all the same old planets. Zach, putting together a steaming plate of something, asks:
“So, what’s going on in this show?”
Now, I’ve seen it a million times before, but I’m still not sure how to put it all in to words. I press my fingers on my arm. By now, my mind can find the keys without help from my eyes.
“You can hang out and watch a few episodes if you want.”
A few moments of silence.
Then Zach’s calm-headed “okay,” and the sound of him pulling out a second plate.
starphotographsStory: Universe B
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival, Lilith Fair Second Stage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_pMYbleHpU)
Characters: Kelsey (POV), Zach
Colors: Baby Pink 7 (Rule number one: don't cook shirtless.)
Word Count: 812
Rating: PG
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Kelsey decides she’d been too quick to judge.
Note: I feel like I already wrote things with her that fit the song better, but this is what this one turned in to.
Zach comes over here and does things, so I don’t have to stop what I’m already doing. Which, for me, can be a disastrous pain in the ass.
It’s actually his job; doing things so other people don’t have to. He takes his orders from Barry, and, among other things, Barry orders him to come over here.
With me, he doesn’t do anything specific. Just wanders around and sees if anything needs doing. Maybe he’ll clean the kitchen or the rat cage, or scrub out the bathroom, or scrape the sides of the tank and feed the fish, whichever of those I haven’t gotten around to. And I’ve always taken my time getting around to things, so I appreciate him. But, “appreciate” hasn’t always meant “like.”
I mean, I don’t hate him or anything. I just got the impression that he was pretty dumb, so I kept my distance. Kept myself to hello, goodbye, and thank you. Now, being certain kinds of dumb can be cause for avoiding someone, but I wasn’t sure if he was even one of the wrong kinds of dumb. And how I decided he was makes me sound pretty dumb myself.
When Zach is here, he usually makes some kind of food before he leaves. One of the first times, it was summer, and the air conditioning in my apartment complex was broken. So he draped his shirt over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and started making tuna salad sandwiches. This struck me as unsanitary, so I kicked him out of my apartment right then and there.
Later, when I had time to think about it, I started laughing, because I wasn’t wearing a shirt, either. It was just too damn hot.
He did a few little stupid things after that, which weren’t a big deal on their own, but taken together, were enough to convince me that he didn’t have any sense.
Which is also pretty hilarious, because it’s not like I’ve never been accused of having my head screwed on wrong.
What I’m saying is, I’ve known him for a long time without really knowing him. I greeted and thanked him, when I noticed him in time to put the words together. Sometimes, when he’d been working particularly hard, I’d make him some kind of gift. Which he always liked. I even noticed that he wore the rainbow hemp bracelet I made him long enough for it to start getting that grey tinge along the bumpy edge of the sennet.
I’ve never really understood how most people measure time, but I know string turning grey means a good, long stretch of it. As does seeing him walk in the door, then watching Chess and Puddingstone run up to wind around his legs, instead of running into the bedroom, or, a little later, doing nothing at all.
Realizing someone you thought was really stupid may not be stupid after all… Well, that might as well be a lifetime. Especially for someone like me.
All this time, this man has been wandering in and out of my house, and we don’t really know anything about each other.
I mean, I know the basics. That he was in grad school for something interesting and biological for about six months before he dropped out of school to go become a busker. And then somehow went from there to Barry.
I’m not sure what he really knows about me. Probably more than I know about him. You can learn a lot from looking at someone’s stuff. And he looks at all my stuff at least twice a week.
That alone makes me feel like it’s only right that I ask him a few questions about himself.
Zach is clanking around in the kitchen. I think he told me he was making a casserole. But that was a while ago, so he must be about to take it out of the oven. I’m curled up on the couch with Chess, marathoning a TV series that I’ve already marathoned before, playing with my freshy-dyed hair. I study my fingernails. They’re teal now, and I didn’t even have to paint them.
The oven door creaks behind me. The characters on the screen are doing the same old things they always have. Same old adventures on all the same old planets. Zach, putting together a steaming plate of something, asks:
“So, what’s going on in this show?”
Now, I’ve seen it a million times before, but I’m still not sure how to put it all in to words. I press my fingers on my arm. By now, my mind can find the keys without help from my eyes.
“You can hang out and watch a few episodes if you want.”
A few moments of silence.
Then Zach’s calm-headed “okay,” and the sound of him pulling out a second plate.
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