LA PUSH RESERVATION

IRKED!
I love that word.

i am irked bongo

Shannon wrote:

"Yeah," Brayden replied, the damp t-shirt feeling uncomfortable as his warm skin rubbed against it. Irked, he yanked off the shirt completely, hanging it over the rail. "It's better on the inside," He said offhandedly, pulling open the screen door and heading inside.

Ooh la la. Kara thought as he pulled off his shirt. (xDD)
She followed him inside.

[there. that's it. x)]

Brayden had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the low slung chandelier in the foyer. His car keys and ball cap were thrown carelessly on the small table, a mirror right above it, reflecting him as he passed. After passing through the foyer, the room opened up into a spacious living room, decorated with a forest green theme in mind. The couches were long and old looking, the mahogany coffee table majestic standing firm in the center of the room. A acoustic guitar was leaning lethargically against a small folding chair in the corner, Brayden secretly referred to this place as his getaway. He would sit and strum his guitar for hours on end to calm himself. After the fight with the vampire, he didn't get up from that chair for 12 hours straight, his soft music stretching into the depths of the night. A small hallway stretched in front of the sitting room. To the left led to the bedrooms and bathrooms and a small flight of stairs that led to the eerie attic. Brayden took a right, an archway leading into the kitchen. It was painted a pastel blue that reminded him of a clear day's sky in the Midwest. The cabinets were a antique white and the counter tops reflected that color. He cracked open the fridge and held two sodas easily in one hand, "Want one?"

"Sure." Kara said politely, smiling. She took it in her hand and lifted the tab, forcing an opening in the top. She sipped from it and placed it on a coaster. "Your house is lovely." Kara told him, looking around at the quaint little house.

Brayden stared at a picture hanging over the sink. A picture of him and his parents. His father's bald head and smile that made his forehead furrow. His mother's awkward position while standing next to Dad, a fake smile plastered across her face. How long had she pretended to love him?
He mumbled an automatic, "Umhm," not really listening.

Kara followed his gaze. He was looking at a picture of a woman and a man, standing with a younger-looking Brayden. "Are those your parents?" She asked softly, walking over to look at it more closely.

Brayden nodded, turning to cast a sideways glance at her while she examined the photo. "I was fifteen when they separated," He explained.

"Where are they now?" She asked, softly again.

"God knows where," He said sourly, putting his soda down on the counter to prevent him from breaking the can into pieces. "After I... erm... phased for the first time, I came and told him and he said that I was possessed by the devil. He said he was going to shoot me if I didn't get out of his house. I told him I wasn't going anywhere, and before he slammed the door and stole my truck, he said, 'I guess I'll just get the hell away, then.'"

Kara stood speechless. "That's awful," was all she could say. "He stole your truck? He said he was going to shoot you?" She walked over and hugged him. Hugs make everything better.

Taken aback, Brayden felt awkward because he was shirtless and she was throwing hugs at him like it was reunion day on Oprah. Cautiously he hugged her back, trying to carefully tiptoe across the line between friendly and zealous.

Kara let go and looked at the picture again. She felt anger towards Brayden's father for treating him like that. Surprised, she realized she actually cared about him. How odd.

x)

He looked away, his cheeks a pale shade of red. He set his jaw, making an audible sound as he did so. To try and relax himself, he took a deep swig of his soda, the caffeine bubbles settling the confusion in his head. He put his hand on the counter and focused on trying to make it stop shaking. He stared at it and eventually the uncalled for tremor died down into a subtle quiver that made his skin crawl with displeasure. Was he really lacking self-control as just displayed?

"What's wrong?" Kara asked, turning to him and noticing his hand was shaking uncontrollably.

He searched for a probable explanation, not wanting to dish out a lame "I'm just angry" or "I can't think about my parents without wanting to rip something apart." Either of those seemed inappropriate for the situation. He stood in silence for a minute, his eyes searching hers quietly. "Caffeine rush...?" He lied, the falseness of the statement ringing out with every word said.

Kara wasn't convinced. She gave him a crooked smile and picked up her soda, taking in a big, bubbly gulp before setting it down again.

He responded by grabbing her soda and putting his thumb over the tab and shaking it so it would hiss and bubble to the top, shooting soda all over the both of them. He stuck out his tongue while doing so.

Kara's mouth hung open as soda sprayed all over her. "What the fuck, Brayden?!" She yelled, laughing. She twirled in a circle, shaking the soda off her body onto him.

"That's a bad word," Brayden said, flicking soda at her with his fingers.

She shook out her hair. "Fuckity fuck fuck." She retorted.

"Stop," He wined like a toddler. To get her to stop waving her hair around like a wet hen, he wrapped one arm around her waist and used his other hand to cover her mouth and pulled her close to him so that her back was pressed against his bare chest. "Are you going to cooperate with me or are we going to have to do this the hard way?"

She screamed but it was muffled by his large hands. "You've got man hands." She joked, slipping out of his grasp.

"Cause I'm a man," He said, baffled. "I'm eighteen and still growing. Of course I've got man hands." He held them up, stretching his fingers out as far as they could go. "Yeah, now that you mention it, they're kind of too big to be normal."

"Have I got man hands?" She asked, stretching out her fingers, too and giving him a flirty look.