Drabble for a good friend
Jun. 19th, 2011 10:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anzila“Thomas, I really hate you.”
Now, those words had been uttered many times by many people, with varying levels of justification behind them. Had he the inclination to be fair, Thomas Raith would have admitted that about 70% the declarations of hatred coming from this particular individual were merited. Had he the inclination to be honest, however, he would have pointed out that he wouldn’t do so many things to earn those declarations if said person’s reactions weren’t so utterly hilarious.
The fact that the current situation assured him two times as many reactions only sweetened the deal.
Grinning wide enough to show off his set of perfect pearly teeth in a way that made men and women swoon and his brother want to punch him, Thomas let his eyes swing back and forth between the two figures between him, both of whom were giving him the dirtiest looks they could and waiting for some sort of reaction.
“Cool. Harry in Stereo!”
Judging by the darkening glares and the untimely demise of the lamp halfway down the street, that was not the reaction the two individuals had been looking for.
“You know,” the first one spoke in the familiar irritated tone of his brother. “Technically, your fingerprints aren’t on file here. If you killed him, no one would know.”
“Ah,” replied the second in a matching tone offset only by the lighter feminine nature of the speaker’s voice. “But then we’d ruin the Cain and Able metaphor, and you know how important tradition is.”
Watching the exchange between his brother and the woman he could only describe as his brother minus a foot and a Y chromosome but plus some other far more appealing features, Thomas gave no sign of concern about his own impending demise. Rather, he began to hum the Double Mint gum jingle.
It was only years of practice, and some supernatural reflexes, that allowed him to successfully dodge the pair of Styrofoam coffee cups that proceeded to sail towards his obscenely expensive white silk shirt. Really, must his brother (and now sister) destroy everything beautiful they came into contact with?
“Wow, I guess you really do throw like a girl!” He informed them helpfully.
While losing his shirt to a sudden dunking in the Great Lakes was indeed a tragedy, Thomas firmly believed that the passage of time would prove that it was worth the loss.
Now, those words had been uttered many times by many people, with varying levels of justification behind them. Had he the inclination to be fair, Thomas Raith would have admitted that about 70% the declarations of hatred coming from this particular individual were merited. Had he the inclination to be honest, however, he would have pointed out that he wouldn’t do so many things to earn those declarations if said person’s reactions weren’t so utterly hilarious.
The fact that the current situation assured him two times as many reactions only sweetened the deal.
Grinning wide enough to show off his set of perfect pearly teeth in a way that made men and women swoon and his brother want to punch him, Thomas let his eyes swing back and forth between the two figures between him, both of whom were giving him the dirtiest looks they could and waiting for some sort of reaction.
“Cool. Harry in Stereo!”
Judging by the darkening glares and the untimely demise of the lamp halfway down the street, that was not the reaction the two individuals had been looking for.
“You know,” the first one spoke in the familiar irritated tone of his brother. “Technically, your fingerprints aren’t on file here. If you killed him, no one would know.”
“Ah,” replied the second in a matching tone offset only by the lighter feminine nature of the speaker’s voice. “But then we’d ruin the Cain and Able metaphor, and you know how important tradition is.”
Watching the exchange between his brother and the woman he could only describe as his brother minus a foot and a Y chromosome but plus some other far more appealing features, Thomas gave no sign of concern about his own impending demise. Rather, he began to hum the Double Mint gum jingle.
It was only years of practice, and some supernatural reflexes, that allowed him to successfully dodge the pair of Styrofoam coffee cups that proceeded to sail towards his obscenely expensive white silk shirt. Really, must his brother (and now sister) destroy everything beautiful they came into contact with?
“Wow, I guess you really do throw like a girl!” He informed them helpfully.
While losing his shirt to a sudden dunking in the Great Lakes was indeed a tragedy, Thomas firmly believed that the passage of time would prove that it was worth the loss.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 02:52 am (UTC)You do realize this does nothing to shut up Tamsin, right?