Blue, blue, red. |OPEN|

[Trace Michaels]

HE'S A SINNER

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"Oh, come on you stupid boat. Is it that hard to look right?" Muttering to himself on the decency of his picture once more, Trace scrubbed at his paper with an eraser so small that most would have thrown it out.
Trace didn't like waste much though; he was never one to throw out something until it was completely useless. Living on the wrong side of the money line had taught him that. The artist-to-be whistled a tune he'd picked up subconsciously at some point in the day as he narrowed his eyes and attempted to draw the pretty little boat in front of him. Again. If he'd been drawing it as a cartoon, it'd be done in about three seconds but since this was for his landscape class it had to be realistic. That meant leaving nothing out from what he saw, simplifying no lines, adding no exaggerated details and definitely not sprucing it up with his own color choice. Then again, the colors he could see from sitting here, feet dangling over the edge of the pier, were quite nice. They were nothing like the vibrant red and blues he often used, but the soft blue, blue, red of the ocean hitting the sun set was beautiful.
Too bad it was so damn hard to draw.

Another breath of fresh but cold air assaulted his face, causing his eyes to screw up like laughing baby. He tugged his battered brown jacket over his just-too-thin frame a bit tighter and shifted to welcome the miracle that was circulation back into the lower half of his body.
That was a mistake.
As soon as he moved, the waiting sheets of pale paper his own weight had been holding down lepta up and seized their chance for escape. Laughing, the mischievous pieces of paper flitted about the near-deserted pier, capering around his attempts to catch them.
"Aw, come on!" He moaned, leaving his pencil case to weigh down the work in progress in order to snatch the few escapees out of the air and off the ground. However, the last one was cunning. It swept left, right and left again until he finally took a large step sideways to capture it. Unfortunately, that space he'd suddenly invaded had been occupied. The pier was near-deserted, after all, not completely empty.

"Oh, crap! Sorry 'bout that." He exclaimed apologetically, whirling around to see who he'd hit, only hoping that they hadn't been completely knocked down.
What a way to meet someone.

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words;;five hundred and fifty now, with template
listening to;; fall for you - secondhand serenade
tags Trace & someone else !
notes =3

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[brie rose]

SHE WAS PLAYING CINDERELLA

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SHE WAS RIDING HER FIRST BIKE.[/b][/SIZE][/color][/font]
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[/color] she said as she bent down picking up a few peices of papers. are these yours?. Brie held out the loose papers to the guy and smiled. Im Brie. she said as she pushed some blond hair from her face as a small gust of wind flew by the two sending chills up her spine.

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words!

[/color][/b] 671
credits![/color][/b] MOLLY FM? at CAUTION!
wearing![/color][/b] le click
tag![/color][/b] trace!
notes![/color][/b] hope you dont mind![/center]

[Trace Michaels]

HE'S A SINNER

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"No no its fine. Are these yours? I'm Brie."

Trace grimaced as she bent down to pick up that papers. Fancy letting a girl pick up stuff while you just stood there. It went against everything a guy should do. However, he was sure to hitch up a smile for when she looked back up and introduced herself. Uh-oh. Her name - before he could check himself, a grin had stretched across his face and he was brainstorming cheese jokes for the future.
"Bit of a cheesy name, but pretty."

[/color] He didn't even realize how pathetic he was, "I'm Trace Michaels, and yes, those are mine. Thanks."[/color]
That said, he accepted the papers back and reached down for the others on the deck of the pier, tucking them all under his arm to quell the noisy flapping of the breeze that had just caused his new companion to shudder.

"Cold?"[/color] Trace couldn't help his eyes drift over her and the little she was wearing, "I wouldn't be surprised."[/color] He gave a slight grin as he said this, and shrugged off his brown jacket, thankful he'd washed it yesterday so it didn't look quite so bad.
"Here. If you can stand clashing colours, that is."[/color] Trace offered his jacket to the girl as you should, to make for letting her pick up his stuff.
The breeze now picked at his arms and back through his t-shirt that was wearing a little thin now, but it didn't bother him. The heat of his jacket still lingered for now.

"Were you going someplace?"[/color] Trace asked curiously.
It wasn't really his business, but that had never stopped him being nosy before. Besides, he only had one other jacket, and he doubted he'd see her again, unless -
"Wait, you're a Wonderlander, aren't you? "[/color]


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words;;four hundred and fifty-two, with template
listening to;; untouched - the veronicas
tags Trace & Brie!
notes Nice to meet ya. =)

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