(no subject)
Type (Private)
Who: Hayate
Where: Hayate's house
When: Today
Warnings: ANGST.
Music: Aqualung -Strange & Beautiful (I'll Put A Spell On You)
Sigh. A lazy curl of cigarette smoke drifted up into the air, meeting a hazy death at the ceiling as it dissipated into nothingness. Hayate flicked ash into the grey ashtray by his bed, staring up at the grey ceiling from his grey bed. He did this often, despite having fallen asleep a few times with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Since today was his day off (and he really did little else), he sat alone on his bed, watching the sunrise through his thin grey curtains.
It was nice. As nice as it could be.
He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his bed, and let himself hunch over. His palms rested on the edge of the bed, on either side of him. Yesterday had been interesting. One of the other graduates from the high school, Uzuki Yuugao, had run into him at his job. They shared a simple hello, a wave, and when she turned to walk away-- he did something stupid. He stopped her.
Yuugao had been the first girl Hayate had ever really liked. Well, the first girl he'd ever gotten the courage to ask out. He still remembered the stinging rejection she'd given him the first time. It was their freshman year, and there was some dance or other coming up. He'd been so nervous, barely able to contain his coughing long enough to ask her, but he did. It didn't much work. She'd turned on her heel with a laugh, and didn't even look back.
During his last few months of high school, they'd become friends. She'd urged him to join Kendo club with her, and while he spent most of his time carrying her equipment-- she'd never once been cruel, or malicious to him.
So there he was yesterday, standing in front of one of the two (or maybe three?) women who'd ever had the ability to really crush him. Yet again, came the coughing. He always coughed when he got nervous. She'd listened patiently, with a faint smile, and let him finish the question. Just like before.
"Would you..." cough "...maybe," cough cough cough "want to get some," cough "c-coffee with me, o-or something?" cough "T-tomorrow night?"
And then came that sickening head tilt, and the sad smile. She pitied him. Even still, not enough for a pity date. She still said no.
"Idiot!" Hayate slapped himself in the forehead and fell backward across his bed, in a rare display of emotion. He didn't even know why he'd even thought-- just for once second. Why would she even-- I mean I'm-- he couldn't even finish the thought. He just wallowed for a few moments on his bed, a perfect example of the pathetic shell of a man he was sure everyone else was perfectly aware of.
Sitting up, he looked over at his grey dresser. Photos of his friends-- some of them he hadn't seen in months, lay strewn across it's top. A photo of a much younger Hayate, nearly strangled into a hug with Anko, and Genma. Another, more recent-- Kotetsu making a "candid" face, Hayate sitting next to him with the most appropriate death glare. The last picture, he and Yuugao at graduation. He actually looked happy in that one. Well, as happy as he could with a half-assed smile that his mom insisted he make.
Hayate sighed again, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray, and stood up. He combed his fingers through his unruly hair, and slipped on his shoes. Coughing into the back of his hand, he winced at the sharp pain in his chest. That was probably bad. Still, he ignored it, and lit another cigarette as he walked out the door.
"It's about time I stopped feeling sorry for myself."
Who: Hayate
Where: Hayate's house
When: Today
Warnings: ANGST.
Music: Aqualung -Strange & Beautiful (I'll Put A Spell On You)
Sigh. A lazy curl of cigarette smoke drifted up into the air, meeting a hazy death at the ceiling as it dissipated into nothingness. Hayate flicked ash into the grey ashtray by his bed, staring up at the grey ceiling from his grey bed. He did this often, despite having fallen asleep a few times with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Since today was his day off (and he really did little else), he sat alone on his bed, watching the sunrise through his thin grey curtains.
It was nice. As nice as it could be.
He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his bed, and let himself hunch over. His palms rested on the edge of the bed, on either side of him. Yesterday had been interesting. One of the other graduates from the high school, Uzuki Yuugao, had run into him at his job. They shared a simple hello, a wave, and when she turned to walk away-- he did something stupid. He stopped her.
Yuugao had been the first girl Hayate had ever really liked. Well, the first girl he'd ever gotten the courage to ask out. He still remembered the stinging rejection she'd given him the first time. It was their freshman year, and there was some dance or other coming up. He'd been so nervous, barely able to contain his coughing long enough to ask her, but he did. It didn't much work. She'd turned on her heel with a laugh, and didn't even look back.
During his last few months of high school, they'd become friends. She'd urged him to join Kendo club with her, and while he spent most of his time carrying her equipment-- she'd never once been cruel, or malicious to him.
So there he was yesterday, standing in front of one of the two (or maybe three?) women who'd ever had the ability to really crush him. Yet again, came the coughing. He always coughed when he got nervous. She'd listened patiently, with a faint smile, and let him finish the question. Just like before.
"Would you..." cough "...maybe," cough cough cough "want to get some," cough "c-coffee with me, o-or something?" cough "T-tomorrow night?"
And then came that sickening head tilt, and the sad smile. She pitied him. Even still, not enough for a pity date. She still said no.
"Idiot!" Hayate slapped himself in the forehead and fell backward across his bed, in a rare display of emotion. He didn't even know why he'd even thought-- just for once second. Why would she even-- I mean I'm-- he couldn't even finish the thought. He just wallowed for a few moments on his bed, a perfect example of the pathetic shell of a man he was sure everyone else was perfectly aware of.
Sitting up, he looked over at his grey dresser. Photos of his friends-- some of them he hadn't seen in months, lay strewn across it's top. A photo of a much younger Hayate, nearly strangled into a hug with Anko, and Genma. Another, more recent-- Kotetsu making a "candid" face, Hayate sitting next to him with the most appropriate death glare. The last picture, he and Yuugao at graduation. He actually looked happy in that one. Well, as happy as he could with a half-assed smile that his mom insisted he make.
Hayate sighed again, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray, and stood up. He combed his fingers through his unruly hair, and slipped on his shoes. Coughing into the back of his hand, he winced at the sharp pain in his chest. That was probably bad. Still, he ignored it, and lit another cigarette as he walked out the door.
"It's about time I stopped feeling sorry for myself."