Jonathan 'Flick' Brennan (
flickofthewrist) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2014-02-16 09:59 am
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5th floor common room ; sunday morning
There were no youthful visitors for Flick. That was probably a damn good thing since, after the previous weekend, he wasn't really in the mood to be messed with by the island. Everyone else could have their kids (and he'd spend the rest of the week laughing at them) while he had a bowl of cereal on the common room couch.
It was early and he was still half asleep. The potential New York trip had gotten pushed off because he was too chickenshit to really face what might be true back there. He still couldn't believe his mother was alive. It was one last way to fuck his mind up that his dead father had left behind. He wasn't going to fall for it.
Nope. He was going to eat cereal and he was going to stretch out on the couch and watch television on this fine Sunday morning. Maybe he'd go back to bed soon. Or maybe he'd go down to the gym and beat on a few things.
But, later.
[Open for young and old.]
It was early and he was still half asleep. The potential New York trip had gotten pushed off because he was too chickenshit to really face what might be true back there. He still couldn't believe his mother was alive. It was one last way to fuck his mind up that his dead father had left behind. He wasn't going to fall for it.
Nope. He was going to eat cereal and he was going to stretch out on the couch and watch television on this fine Sunday morning. Maybe he'd go back to bed soon. Or maybe he'd go down to the gym and beat on a few things.
But, later.
[Open for young and old.]

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But right now he was taking a break from
stalkingmonitoring his tiny not!mom to find some food. He figured a floor above hers would probably be safer than her common room.no subject
"Hello, tiny person," he said, raising an eyebrow.
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Sorry, Flick, you had one of those faces.
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"Why are you staring at me, kid?" he asked, glancing back over. "Look like you've seen a ghost or something."
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Flick couldn't tell what kind of staring that had been.
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Or not.
"Sorry to confuse you, kid," Flick eventually allowed. "Can't help my face, though. Hope the other guy isn't a douche or anything."
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"He's okay, I guess."
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He would have done that.
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Still relieved about that one.
"How do you kind of visit your mom?"
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"Who's your mom?" he asked since that seemed like the next logical question.
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"You probably don't know her." Did that evasive expression look at all familiar, Flick?
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That's the only thing he could think of when it came to 'kind of' visiting someone.
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That would be a 'no', Flick.
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Unless you had horrible parents, of course.
"You can't be that shy if you're talking to me."
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And not just in the never getting born sense.
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So.
"I promise," he said and decided he'd do his best to keep that promise.
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