---- i like you but i really want her x

[james ryan morgan]

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I DONT WANNA BE THE FOOL
T H A T G E T S L E F T B E H I N D I N T H E D U S T
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It had been one of those nights where no matter how hard you tried to go to sleep, your eyes just refused to shut. He’d hung out with a couple of buddies last night, and for once in a long time didn’t take anyone home with him. It was a sort of, “guys night out” for lack of a better term, and he didn’t want to ruin the fun buy ditching them for some chick. Any other night he probably would’ve, but last night he was surprisingly tired and wanted to crash as soon as he got home. It was probably due to the ridiculous amount of alcohol he consumed that night as well. James has always been one to have at least one drink when he went out, especially when he was with his friends. That often ended up in a rough night for James whenever he decided that after the fun he actually wanted to go home and just crash. For some reason, sleep doesn't come easy for James sometimes, even when he's drunk. You'd think that it would be easy for a drunk person to sleep, but it's the opposite for James sometimes. And last night was one of those nights that he needed and wanted to get so sleep.

But it didn’t happen as quickly as James wanted it to. He laid in bed for a couple of hours. After that he watched a movie and managed to fall asleep on the not so comfortable couch. Being in just a pair of boxers, he was pretty cold the whole night. But he didn’t feel like grabbing a blanket, so he slept through it the best he could. He woke to the sound of one of those early morning cartoons. His eyes blinked a couple of times before he sat up. Note to self, never sleep on the couch again. His hand rubbed a tender spot on the back of his neck. He looked dozily at the clock on the DVD player just below the TV. It was around ten o clock, which was a little early for James. Usually he could sleep until at least noon, but considering the circumstance, he’ll just have to find a way to wake himself up. A shower usually did the trick. After taking a long, hot shower he found himself a little more relaxed and awake. The crook in his neck was almost gone, which was good because it had started to get on his nerves. He didn’t put much thought into his outfit for the day. It’s not like he was going anywhere important. In fact, he wasn’t exactly sure where he was going just yet. So he pulled on a pair of jeans and a brown long sleeved shirt. He wasn’t sure how cold it was, so he left the sleeves down for now.

James grabbed his Rolex watch and snapped it onto his wrist. It was funny because just a couple of years ago he always told himself how retarded watches were. He’d said that he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a watch and now here he is, snapping one onto his wrist. I guess things change as you get older. Granted, James is still the arrogant jerk he was a couple years ago, there are still a few things about him that have changed. He’s even matured a little, believe it or not. How he’s matured is a little hard to state at the moment though, considering he still drinks and parties way too much. It was sometimes fun for James to think about what kind of guy he would be if he didn’t party as much. If he’d had strict parents who actually kept him home to study instead of just waiting for his inheritance. James would definitely be a nicer person overall, what with all the discipline he would have. But then again, the bad side of having strict parents was that he’d probably always have his face dug into a book of some sort. Oh he’d probably wear suspenders too. He didn’t know why but whenever he thought of a bookworm, suspenders always came to mind. And not to mention, James would be one boring person without the life he has now. No parties meant no social life for James, and that would be no good. For James, having a social life was everything that made his life so good; besides the wealth and the nice things. He’d be nothing without the parties and social gatherings. That was basically how he made most of his friends. He slipped into a pair of sneakers and grabbed his keys and wallet on the way out. He didn’t know where he was headed, so he decided to take the car, just in case he decided to go farther than walking distance.

What he needed was some coffee and some kind of danish. It wasn’t the healthiest breakfast, but he could manage it considering he worked out regularly. Starbucks would be the perfect place to satisfy his needs. James turned down the street where Starbucks could be found. He parked and headed inside, rolling up his sleeves as he waited in the short line. He looked around the quaint little café. There were hardly any people there. Oh, that’s right, no one was up at this ungodly hour. James yawned as he stepped up to the cash register. The cashier was a young girl, probably around his age. Not bad looking either. How can I help you? Such a routine question didn’t sound so routine when James was at the counter. He offered a subtle smirk as he skimmed through the menu. Yeah, I’ll take a cup of coffee with some of that French vanilla creamer. And a cinnamon roll. He pulled his wallet out from his back pocket.

The girl gladly made his coffee, her eyes meeting his a couple of times before she focused on her task. She handed him the coffee and cinnamon roll along with a flirty smile. James returned the smile as he gave her the right amount of money and dropped a few extra bucks in the tip jar. Thanks, he thanked her with a wink before turning on his heel to find a table. He took a couple steps toward an empty table with two chairs next to the window. Hungrily he pulled a piece from his cinnamon roll and thrust it into his mouth. He probably looked like a pig right about now, but honestly he didn’t care. Someone with a beautiful face such as his shouldn’t have to worry about embarrassing themselves. That’s how James sees things anyway. What a cocky son of a bitch.

NOTES woop woop. c: WORDS 1,117
TAGGED OPEN
OUTFIT described in the intro, yo.
CREDIT BY HEY BAYBAY !? AT CAUTION !

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[isobel amelia delorme]

I STAY ON TRACK
you're all over the map

Isobel could remember the night very well. After packing up her paint supplies in her apartment, she went out to the bar. Like always, she wasn't going to sleep alone that night, she was sure of it. That night especially was a bit freaky. She didn't know why, but it was. She had one drink and got hit on by a few guys. Obviously the last guy was the lucky guy to follow "drunk Izzie" back to her apartment (which was across from the bar, believe it or not). She wasn't drunk, though. Why would she get drunk when she was about to sleep with someone? People do stupid things when they're drunk, and Izzie did not want to be one of the stupid idiots that had some kind of STD. So, if the guy did come prepared, she always was.. and that's one reason why Isobel never invited her mom over. Her mom was a very nosy lady, and she didn't want her mom to see all of her secret "goodies" that were hidden in the drawer. Though, Izzie would be kind of upset if her mom got mad at her for that. She was being safe, and she wasn't pregnant yet. Well, her mom did want her to produce grandchildren, so maybe she should be getting herself drunk...

What amazing thoughts to be waking up to in the morning. Izzie was laying on her worn out mattress (it's not what you think, it came with the apartment), staring up at the yellow stained ceiling. When she first moved in there, she found that disgusting. But in time, it grew on her and she got used to. It could be worse, she could be living back in Africa in that mud hut. They did save money, though. Actually, it kind of was a good idea. Izzie and her mom were kind of starving, but they ended up being three hundred dollars richer than they were the month before they moved there. Izzie appreciated things, especially if they were her own things that she was paying for with her own money. She took better care of them, for sure. She also felt extremely special if she had her own things - she was like that even when she was a young girl. She was once running around Nunavut (well, running and tripping) and found this doll. First of all, who leaves a doll lying in the cold snow? Second of all, little Izzie believed in finder's keepers, loser's weepers. Anyways, who's going to miss a little doll that was half buried in Nunavut? No one, that's who. The point was, she kept that doll as close as possible. There were actually a few drawings of that doll. She lost the doll, though. She wanted her dolly to feel the wind as they were driving up mountain, and she dropped her. Young Isobel was so heart broken, she cried for about thirty minutes. Sure, that might not sound like a lot, but it is to Izzie. This lady didn't really get upset at anything. A guy leaves in the middle of the night? She's not upset, she's actually relieved. She wouldn't want to wake him up and kick him out, so she silently prayed the guy would leave when she was sleeping.

After all of these thoughts floated around her brain, she finally got up, glancing at the clock. It was only nine thirty, but she was already awake. She couldn't go back to sleep if she tried. As she got up, she could feel the middle of her back crack a bit. She let out a soft grumble and make her way to the shower. Sadly, she only had fifteen minutes of hottish water, then it got colder by the second. She was used to it, though, and had a good routine. Wash, rinse, 2 in 1 shampoo/conditioner, rinse, then she could finish up in the shower. She felt proud of herself for figuring out the whole 2 in 1 thing. Some people said that it didn't really work, but her hair looked fine. It was shiny, soft and best of all, clean! Not to mention it smelled good, and so did her skin. She pulled on a yellow t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Both the jeans and shirt had paint on them. The shirt actually looked good, though. The jeans.. not so much. Well, it's not that they looked bad, but you could tell she was a painter; a painter with a low income. She laughed at that thought as she went to her fridge, pulling out an apple. That was her breakfast, pretty much.

Today was a good day for Isobel. The window was open, the breeze was coming in, and that meant she didn't have to pay for heating! That was an extra one hundred bucks at the end of the month, which meant apples. She also had more than three dollars in her pocket, now that was some amazing news. She knew she should have probably put that in her piggy bank or something, but no. She was going to spend it. Something delicious - something she's never had. She went to that open window, smelling the familiar smell of New York City. She was looking for something new. Probably something only Americans would have. She spotted Starbucks. She's heard a lot about it, but was never actually in it. She was wondering what was so good about it. She overheard a couple talking about how they saw Mandy Moore walk into there. Well, if Mandy Moore was going there, why not her? So, she locked up her apartment and left without her painting supplies. It was a shocker, but she actually did leave without them! What was she going to paint in Starbucks, anyways? Was there going to be some big horned animal in there or something? She honestly doubted it. Smiling contently, she walked to Starbucks. It took her a god twenty minutes to get there, but she wasn't worn out. She was good. As she walked in there was a small line up - about two people in front of her. As it got to her turn, she had a slight confused look on her face. The girl asked her what she would like, but Isobel wasn't entirely sure how to ask for it. "Um, can I get a.. um. Small coffee?" She asked, making a face. The girl explained to Isobel what sizes they went by and how you can get more than just a coffee. Isobel smiled and nodded, trying to get it right this time. "Ok, uh, can I get a tall soy misto with vanilla bean powder?" The girl blinked a bit, then got Isobel her order. She didn't say anything to how ridiculous the prices were. She gave the girl pretty much all of her spending money and went to sit down. She saw that there was an empty chair near the window, but there was a guy sitting in the opposite chair. He looked as if he was shoving something down his throat, so she couldn't help but smirk at him. She held back a giggle and sat at a table that was closest to the window, but not right at it. She needed to look out of somewhere.

status: finished!
words: 1220
notes: :] hello