Locked Out
Title: Locked Out
'Verse: The Effect
Rating: none
Author's Note: I completely forgot about this piece until I opened up a document that said "towel" and reread it. Had myself a few laughs too. It's just a funny little scene featuring Graham, a towel, and a butter knife.
Ethan, Seth, Keith, and Nate belong to guiltycross. Graham and Chris are mine.
Graham stepped out of the shower, steam filling the bathroom, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped his hand over the mirror to remove the condensation and checked his reflection. His wet hair dripped into his eyes. He brushed his teeth, gargled mouthwash, and left the bathroom.
His bedroom was just a short way down the hall, but Graham hurried as if it were across the house. He grabbed the doorknob and turned. It didn't move. He frowned, and tried it again. Nothing.
"No, no, no! Open up!" he commanded it, rattling the doorknob uselessly. He slumped forward, hitting his head against the door repeatedly. There was nothing for it. The door was locked, and the key was inside the room.
Way to go, Graham, he cheered for himself as he looked cautiously around. He could maybe run downstairs, grab a butter knife, and try to get it open before anyone saw him. Tightening the towel around his waist, he rushed towards the stairs, going as quietly as he could, but still quickly.
Unfortunately, the kitchen was right across from the leisure room, where most of the others were sitting. As Graham rushed past, Chris turned his attention away from the television.
"Where's the fi-whoaah." He whistled.
Graham's face reddened as he did his best to ignore the stares now directed at him, thanks to Chris calling attention on him. He had never wandered the house unless he was fully clothed-unlike Chris, who, on one memorable day, had strolled around naked.
Ethan cleared his throat, looking perplexed more than anything else. "Graham? Why are you in a towel?"
"Take it off!" Chris cat-called from the sofa. Nate flung a pillow at his head. It bounced off his shield and fell to the floor. Chris stuck his tongue out.
As calmly as he could manage, Graham turned to face him. "I accidentally locked myself out of my bedroom." He turned back around and rummaged through the silverware drawer, grabbing a butter knife.
"A butter knife?" Ethan inquired.
"Well, um. Yeah. If you stick it between the slats-"
Chris was having a giggle fit on the couch.
"It… it pops it open. Well, at least… it always did at my aunt's."
Ethan turned to Keith. "Do you have any tools we could use to unlock his door?"
He nodded and stood up. "Yeah, I think so. Let me go look." He wandered off in the direction of the utility room while Graham stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, clenching the butter knife as though it were his only defense. Ethan, at least, had recovered himself.
Chris leaned on the back of the couch, resting his chin on his folded arms. "You should walk around in a towel more often, Graham. It really spices up the day."
"Would you shut up?" Seth growled at him. "You're gonna scar him for life."
Keith returned with some tools while Seth and Chris bickered, and led Graham and Ethan upstairs. Thirty seconds worth of fiddling, and the lock sprang open. Graham darted inside.
"Thank you!" And he snapped the door shut.
Ethan exchanged a glance with Keith, and knocked on the door. Graham opened it, and without a word, handed him the butter knife. Then he closed the door again.
'Verse: The Effect
Rating: none
Author's Note: I completely forgot about this piece until I opened up a document that said "towel" and reread it. Had myself a few laughs too. It's just a funny little scene featuring Graham, a towel, and a butter knife.
Ethan, Seth, Keith, and Nate belong to guiltycross. Graham and Chris are mine.
Graham stepped out of the shower, steam filling the bathroom, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped his hand over the mirror to remove the condensation and checked his reflection. His wet hair dripped into his eyes. He brushed his teeth, gargled mouthwash, and left the bathroom.
His bedroom was just a short way down the hall, but Graham hurried as if it were across the house. He grabbed the doorknob and turned. It didn't move. He frowned, and tried it again. Nothing.
"No, no, no! Open up!" he commanded it, rattling the doorknob uselessly. He slumped forward, hitting his head against the door repeatedly. There was nothing for it. The door was locked, and the key was inside the room.
Way to go, Graham, he cheered for himself as he looked cautiously around. He could maybe run downstairs, grab a butter knife, and try to get it open before anyone saw him. Tightening the towel around his waist, he rushed towards the stairs, going as quietly as he could, but still quickly.
Unfortunately, the kitchen was right across from the leisure room, where most of the others were sitting. As Graham rushed past, Chris turned his attention away from the television.
"Where's the fi-whoaah." He whistled.
Graham's face reddened as he did his best to ignore the stares now directed at him, thanks to Chris calling attention on him. He had never wandered the house unless he was fully clothed-unlike Chris, who, on one memorable day, had strolled around naked.
Ethan cleared his throat, looking perplexed more than anything else. "Graham? Why are you in a towel?"
"Take it off!" Chris cat-called from the sofa. Nate flung a pillow at his head. It bounced off his shield and fell to the floor. Chris stuck his tongue out.
As calmly as he could manage, Graham turned to face him. "I accidentally locked myself out of my bedroom." He turned back around and rummaged through the silverware drawer, grabbing a butter knife.
"A butter knife?" Ethan inquired.
"Well, um. Yeah. If you stick it between the slats-"
Chris was having a giggle fit on the couch.
"It… it pops it open. Well, at least… it always did at my aunt's."
Ethan turned to Keith. "Do you have any tools we could use to unlock his door?"
He nodded and stood up. "Yeah, I think so. Let me go look." He wandered off in the direction of the utility room while Graham stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, clenching the butter knife as though it were his only defense. Ethan, at least, had recovered himself.
Chris leaned on the back of the couch, resting his chin on his folded arms. "You should walk around in a towel more often, Graham. It really spices up the day."
"Would you shut up?" Seth growled at him. "You're gonna scar him for life."
Keith returned with some tools while Seth and Chris bickered, and led Graham and Ethan upstairs. Thirty seconds worth of fiddling, and the lock sprang open. Graham darted inside.
"Thank you!" And he snapped the door shut.
Ethan exchanged a glance with Keith, and knocked on the door. Graham opened it, and without a word, handed him the butter knife. Then he closed the door again.