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Post by Andrua Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 13:41:13 GMT -5
It was gorgeous out. Andrua normally didn't like the spring, but after the freezing winter they had had... Well, she would welcome any kind of warmer weather at all. No more snow, no more freezing rain, no more temperatures below fifty degrees... It was like heaven. Plus, she was with Benson. And she was always happy when she was with Benson. And on top of that, they were wandering aimlessly through Times Square which was always fun. Lacing her fingers through his, she pulled a little closer to him. Okay, so things weren't perfect. They still had to look out for the camps and some demons but it was better then it had been. Not so end-of-the-world-y now. And, fuck, they were engaged. They were going to get married (eventually). Harmony was going to be okay. Charles too. New mutants were coming in everyday, finding refuge at the homes. There were reasons to be happy. And she was. Andrua was happy. |
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Post by Benson Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 16:12:37 GMT -5
Happiness could have been defined as walking next to the most beautiful woman in the world, his fiancee, through the recovering but always bustling Times Square, but right now, happiness was biting into his corndog, while he was walking next to the most beautiful woman in the world, his fiancee, while daydreaming about playing on the English team. After the wedding, of course. At least he had a right to dream. Though it seemed as if all of his wildest had been beaten by Andrua accepting--or, rather, reproposing--his request. He reached for her head, only his eyes poking up from the top of the corndog as his teeth wrestled with it. "Nom," he chewed--growled--in satisfaction, shaking his head, somehow morphing into some sort of dinosaur creature for the sake of eating the delicious treat. "Yum. Want a bite?" He held it out for her. [[grawr. i sowwy. ees short and shitty.]] |
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 16:38:28 GMT -5
Why was her fiance eating that (penis-shaped) corndog so intently? There was something very, very wrong with that. She studied him with a cocked head and parted lips, wondering if there was some deeper, Freudian meaning to it. Of course, with Freud, that meaning would just be that he wanted to fuck his mother. That's what it always was with Freud.
"No, I don't want a bite of your innuendo-rich, phallic-shaped snack," she declared slowly. "Thanks for the offer though." She kept a slightly amused face on as she examined the food being held out to her.
"What is it anyway? I mean, I know it's a corndog, but..." She trailed off, nose wrinkling as she poked at the spongey material on a stick, "What's it made from?"
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Post by Benson Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 16:42:25 GMT -5
Throwing out a pout, he went back to eating the hotdog as if he was highly offended by the insult to his food. "You'd think someone with your standards would love the opportunity to suck on something shaped like a penis," he grumbled under his breath, nibbling on the greasy dough-like substance the hotdog was surrounded in. Gross, but delicious. "And my penis is better than this anyway," he added defiantly.
"No touching!" he snapped, holding it close, sticking it back in his mouth. "It's a deep-fried hotdog. What's there to know?"
With a jolt of his eyebrows and a malicious smirk, he stuck out his tongue and circled it around the part that was bitten. "Mmm. Scrumptous." [[fucking spelling of that word. when i care about how it's spelled, i'll ask Mary Poppins. lawl i typed "poopins" by accident at first. xD]]
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 17:06:17 GMT -5
Andrua's mouth dropped open at his comment. "Excuse me? Did you just call me a whore?" Her eyebrows jumped and she stopped walking. Letting go of his hand to grip her hip, she met his eyes expectantly. "Mhm, I'll bet yours does. And I bet I will never, ever find out if that's true. Because you're a jerk."
"No touching!"
"Fine," she said easily. She started walking without him. "Then no touching," she repeated him, waving vaguely to her body. She bit back a gag as he sensually handled his corn dog before taking more steps. And then she stopped because she didn't hear his steps following hers.
Looking over her shoulder, she popped a pout. "Y'coming?" she asked hopefully.
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Post by Benson Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 17:12:31 GMT -5
She stopped, but he kept going before coming to an abrupt halt, noticing that she was staring at him from behind, a hand on her hip and her weight shifted.
He scrunched his nose, sticking out his tongue. "'Because you're a jerk,'" he mimicked her, giving her voice a much higher and nasal-like qualities, lisp included. He went back to filling his cheeks with corndog, the taste becoming saltier by the minute, saliva starting to thicken.
No touching? She always did have a way of twisting his words. Benson planted his feet firmly, turning toward the building next to them and acting out an intimate moment with his corndog. It was better than her anyway.
Yeah, right.
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 17:27:09 GMT -5
Andrua's eye twitched involuntarily. That's it. She was mentally scarred. For life. No way she was getting that image out of her head. Ever. In fact, how did he learn to get so good at...that? OH GOSH. Bad images. Very bad images in her head. Images that needed to go away. Right now. No more of that; of Benson doing that.
Giving a little shudder, she stalked back to him. "What the hell is so damn good about it?" she asked, feigning ire. Smirking a little to him, she gripped his wrist and brought the corndog to her mouth. Wrapping her lips around it, she let her eyes slip closed lustily. Humming satisfiedly [[s'that a word? idk]], she slowly moved her lips up, raking her teeth up as she did. Finally biting, she met his eyes a moment before pulling her mouth away.
She chewed studiously, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Swallowing, she pulled a face. "Eh, it's all right." Leaning against his chest, she pressed her lips to his in a heated kiss. She pulled away far too soon, grinning up to him. "But you definitely taste better."
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Post by Benson Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 17:42:32 GMT -5
[[lol i don't think so.]]
For once, he was able to laugh about acting gay. It got to her notice him, at least. Whipping back to her with a teeth-bearing smile, he was glad to give her the corndog to at least try. The look on her face was priceless--or, rather, lack of look. She tried to seem pensive, apathetic even, but he knew on the inside there was nothing to be enthusiastic about when it came to the corndog.
The kiss caught him in a mental lapse, and he pulled away sharply, sticking out his tongue. "Eww, you're right," he conceded. "These things are gross. Especially when you've had it for the...second time. After someone else has chewed it." He pushed it into her hands. "Here. Have some fantasies. I'm done."
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 17:54:19 GMT -5
Chuckling at his sudden change of heart, she happily took the food. Turning it at different angles, she enthused, "But Bennie! It's so big! And so wide! I don't even know if it'll fit!" Breaking into giggles, she shook her head. "No thanks, I'm more of a cookies-and-milk kind of girl myself." Moving to the trashcan, she tossed the corndog out. "Gross," she said, nose wrinkling again. She wiped her greasy fingers on her jeans before moving back to him.
She tugged his arm, bringing it over her shoulders so she could cuddle into his side. She liked this. Just walking with him, joking about food and nothing. Because, hey, there were alive. Shock of all shocks they had survived Hell and the end of the world. They were together and alive and engaged and walking through Times Square without a care in the world.
Heaving a sigh, she nuzzled her nose his hoodie. "Mmm, love you Bennie," she stated softly, smile on her face.
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Post by Benson Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 18:08:59 GMT -5
"Oh moyyy gawwwd," he drawled, jaw hanging open with his eyes bulging. "Please don't ever say anything like that again." He shuddered, glad that he was the insert, not the recipient. That must have been uncomfortable. Thank God he wouldn't have to find out. Ever.
Happy to be rid of the greasy treat now, he took her hand, bringing her side to slide up against his. He flipped her hood over her scruffy dark hair, to hide the fronts of their faces as he pressed down to lay a kiss on her, mid-step.
"You better," he hummed. "Because then I'd be extremely upset if you didn't and yet still agreed to marry me." That was enough to drive him over the edge; to be able to say that he was going to marry her; she was going to marry him; they were going to be married. He enveloped her in his arms, wanting to teleport out of here.
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Jan 28, 2010 18:18:33 GMT -5
"Please don't ever say anything like that again."
She chuckled, nodding. "As long as you never eat a corndog in that manner ever again. Actually, just never eat a corndog ever again, period."
She stopped walking, rocking onto her toes. Pressing closer to him, her fingers trailed into his hair. When they finally pulled away, he spoke against her lips. The sensation alone was enough to thrill her. But his words, what he was saying, sent a shiver down her back too. They were getting married. He was marrying her. She was marrying him.
"Hey. We're getting married," she said, grinning. Giggling, she shook her head. "Is it lame that I like saying that? We're getting married. You're gonna be my husband." He was gonna be her husband. She was gonna be his wife. She wouldn't wait.
Snuggling into his embrace, she fit her arms around his waist, hands lying flat on his back. "Can we go home?" she asked. Couch, Benson, cookies, cuddling. That's what she wanted.
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Post by Benson Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 0:47:38 GMT -5
"Nope," he replied promptly, plainly. He wasn't going to go home right now. He wanted to take her places. He wanted to take her everywhere. She was going to be his wife. He had to, wanted to spoil her. She deserved everything, needed everything. He was going to give her everything. "Nope, we're not going home."
Well, he'd have to live with denying her that one thing, because they did that all the time.
"Ready? Hang on."
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 2:16:28 GMT -5
"Nope?" she repeated skeptically. Really? He was turning down the opportunity to sit in a nice room alone with her, cuddling. She pouted softly, crossing her arms over her chest. Well. He had better have a better idea then.
"Hang on?" she asked. A split second later she realized why. He was going to teleport them somewhere...but where? Well, she would go along out of curiosity. And 'cause it was Bennie and she would go anywhere he asked her to really. "All right," she agreed, eyebrow still raised questioningly. She tightened her arms around his waist, eyes tipping up to meet his.
"Where we going?" she asked, expecting her words to get lost in the last seconds before they teleported out of there to God-only-knew-where.
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Post by Benson Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 2:46:40 GMT -5
Smiling secretively, he had his arms around her, to prevent any "falling" into some place he didn't intend to leave her. That would be problematic. Burrowing his nose in her hair, he contemplated on where they should go. Some place that wasn't too crowded, so they could have room for themselves. But not a place that was too deserted. They needed live. He knew Andrua thrived on the life and activity around her. That's how she was always so vivacious.
Yes, precisely.
"How's Pompeii sound to you?"
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 3:28:05 GMT -5
She shivered a little at the feeling of his closeness. Sighing contentedly, she nuzzled up against him. And then he mentioned Pompeii and she was pulling away, eyes excited and smile wide. "Pompeii?" she repeated, hand clutching his biceps. "Really?"
God, that would be so awesome! Pompeii...with the ruins and the earth around them and the life that had been lived their so long ago yet so current and present... Fuck, he knew her so well. "I love you," she said simply, happily. Dropping a kiss to his throat, where his pulse beat, she wrapped her arms back around him.
"Let's go!" she said anxiously, holding tight. This was different, new, fun. She liked this. She could get used to this. All that she had been thinking that she wanted to do before she died when they thought --were sure-- death was around the corner, she could do that. Do it all. With Benson right by her side.
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Post by Benson Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 10:14:04 GMT -5
"Well," he caught himself, not wanting to let her down with a crash, "I'm no time-traveler, so I can't take you back to its glory days, but we can go to the ruins." Wouldn't that be something neat, though. To actually go back in time and see the people who actually inhabited Pompeii; who made it their everyday lifestyle. He envied time-hoppers already. Where was an infected rat when you needed one?
Her spirits didn't seemed to be worsened any, and he flashed her an equally excited grin, regaining his strength around her body that fit so perfectly against his. "Ready?"
Didn't care if she wasn't, but he had a feeling that wasn't the case.
In a blink, they were standing on the disheveled and broken remains of the city of Pompeii. "Gotta letcha go now, sweetheart. Come on, look." She had to look. Cause it was fucking beautiful.
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 10:44:28 GMT -5
God, how awesome would it be to hop back in time? Suddenly, her mind exploded with possibilities. No, scratch that; too many possibilities, too many tempts to change the past (find her parents, do things differently). She liked where she was, who was she. It was better not to have the potential of a 'what if.'
Either way, the ruins of Pompeii was all she needed; all she expected. And that was more than enough. She had heard the view was astounding. And she had always wanted to see Italy and why weren't they there yet?
At his question of her being ready, she nodded, tucking her head against his neck. The prospect of teleportation still made her stomach drop to her toes. She felt the unmistakable pull a second later and then solid ground. "Gotta letcha go now, sweetheart. Come on, look."
She pulled away slowly, still trying to figure out her equilibrium. Once the ground under her feet steadied out, her eyes trailed up to the sight before them. And she nearly cried. Because it was...breath-taking. Unimaginably brilliant and beyond every word.
She was staring at the ruins of a temple or something; all that existed now were a few crumbling columns in a row. And beyond that, in the background, was Vesuvius. And Christ if it didn't nearly bring her to her knees.
"Holy fuck," she breathed out, transfixed by the sight before her. Tourists mingled around them too but who cared about them when you could see that. "Oh god, Benson, it's..." She didn't have words. Expect to thank him over and over because if she hadn't ever gotten to see this it would have been a waste of a life.
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Post by Benson Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 11:17:40 GMT -5
To hell with passports and paying tourguides and good walking shoes and pick-pocketers. This was enough to blow any and all other troubles out of his mind in an instant. The picture-perfect scenery in front of them decreased his intake of breath and soon he found himself wanting to be on top of that mountain. Imagine the view from there! Andrua, too, seemed to be at a loss for words. Even with a hand on her back, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stay on his feet much longer.
"Yeah, I know," he replied, smiling dimly, absorbing everything around him with hungry, eager eyes. "Come on, I wanna see more," he quickly got to it, taking her by the hand and starting through the debris. Through the crowds they moved, entering one of the abandoned houses.
The mummified people in ashes made his breath stop short and he didn't know what to make of it.
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 12:18:04 GMT -5
Benson was pulling her along but she was still transfixed by the volcano in the distance. Finally she woke up and let him lead her through the crowds, down the hill a bit and into the once-village. Even as a reckage, Pompeii was magnificent.
Her eyes were locked on the decorations on the wall, studying the dye and strokes. She laid a hand over the image, knowing that hundreds upon hundreds of years ago someone had their hand in the exact spot that she had hers now, painting the picture for the first time over the wall. 'Whoa," she breathed out, taken aback by that for some reason.
And then Benson was looking at the mummified remains and she pulled her bottom lip under her teeth. She edged a little closer to him, seeking contact. Disaster on a massive scale had occurred here... They had been apart of the same scale disaster and had someone survived it. Seeing the other end of the spectrum, the victims, hit her significantly. "Crazy," she murmured, her hand finding his.
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Post by Benson Thomas on Feb 12, 2010 12:33:41 GMT -5
Searching for identical contact, Benson pulled her close, wondering if what they went through was anything like what they did back in New York. Was it as terrifying? Certain death? Parents shielding and hugging their children, knowing it was their last moments together; alive... Why did they get spared the end of the world, and yet these people didn't survive a natural disaster? His heart lipped and he turned with a heavy breath to put his face in her hair.
Crazy was a gross understatement. It was mortifying. It really brought to terms his own mortality, and how insignificant his own life was. If these people were so easily forgotten; unknown, who was he to say that he would be known if he had died during the rise of hell?
He ducked down to kiss Andrua. At least one person found him...well, significant. And she was a part of his life, too. Thank God.
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