Хахах.

Старый Новый год

Выбирай себе вареник via номад

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Я люблю тебя, я люблю тебя, я люблю тебя.
Я люблю тебя.
Я. Люблю. Тебя.
дневные тренировки закончены, у меня уже почти получается.

@темы: heartbeats

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Как танцевать вальс?

Удостоверьтесь, что за десять лет, проведенных за партой, вы научились считать хотя бы до трех (уверяю, для вальса этого вполне достаточно).

Вы уже повторили учебник по арифметике за первый класс? Тогда второй совет: мысленно нарисуйте перед собой квадрат и попытайтесь на три счета обойти его стороны против часовой стрелки, шагая вперед с правой ноги, а назад - с левой. На каждую сторону приходится по одному большому шагу и по два маленьких. При этом сам танцующий должен на те же самые три счета крутиться по часовой стрелке.

Вы все еще пытаетесь вспомнить, в какую же это сторону «по часовой стрелке»? Поздравляю - вы хотя бы не задаетесь вопросом, где правая нога, а где левая. Усложняем задачу: попробуйте провальсировать уже по кругу, насколько позволяют размеры вашей комнаты. Руки при этом следует держать так, как будто вы находитесь за рулем роскошной двухместной «Ауди ТТ» и левой рукой обнимаете девушку, сидящую рядом. Для наглядности и повышения старательности можно расставить по ходу движения (не на трассе, а в комнате) несколько любимых маминых вазочек и попытаться аккуратно в танце обойти их, не задев ни одну.

l Теперь соберите осколки и как-нибудь замаскируйте зияющие на комоде пустоты. Если вам еще не надоело, маленькое предостережение: самое сложное в танце - не оттоптать ноги партнеру. Поэтому срочно обзаведитесь последним и повторите пункты 2 - 3 уже с ним (с ней). Если бьющегося посудного стекла в доме не осталось, вазы разрешается не расставлять.

l Максимально убедительно извинитесь перед партнером и предложите ему сделать то же самое. Перебинтовав ноги, можно продолжить. Чтобы люди не подумали, что у вас какие-то нерешаемые проблемы, перестаньте, наконец, любоваться собственными ногами!!! Подбородок должен быть направлен в сторону левого виска партнера, вальсировать нужно легко и непринужденно.

Когда-нибудь вам удастся улыбаться без напоминаний, пока же, танцуя, растягивайте лицевые мышцы в противоположные стороны. Ослепительной улыбкой можно хоть как-то сгладить и замаскировать прочие косяки танца.

Прислушайтесь наконец-то к советам партнера: «А может, ну его, этот вальс?..» Все равно на выпускном ноги друг другу вы оттопчете, а окружающим будет совершенно не до вас, и оценить изящество ваших телодвижений они не смогут. Еще бы, у каждого ведь схожие проблемы: куда деть руки, куда спрятать ноги и как при этом сохранять на лице подобие улыбки. Сходите лучше в «ночник» - там значительно проще. «Тымц-тымц-тымц, восточные ска-а-азки!..»

Источник

@темы: энергодесант

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Рабо-ота. Позавчера она завершилась корпоративом (малосольная семга, икра, мидии, говядина в разных вариантах, 16 стаканов апельсинового сока, машина, музыка, дикая скорость, три часа ночи, отпрос с работы на завтра), послезавтра она начнется снова (недосып, жара в офисе, новый чайник, лестницы, лестницы, лестницы).
Я начинаю это любить. )

@темы: вести с полей

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Лиса, галстук, подводка, фотошоп.

Иногда я не знаю, что на меня находит.

...дальше...

@темы: креатив

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Не оторваться =)

Вспоминается день в парке Чжуншань, когда толпа разодетых примерно так же подростков делала фотосет на закате. Ах-ах, сколько эмоций. Ах, как прекрасно ))))

@темы: креатив

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Если я сойду с ума, винить в этом прошу Драко с его асечными внезапными появлениями.
И почему я каждый раз так рада?

@темы: окопы мозга

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Перечитать (перевести?), рассмотреть.

The Three Days of Unsaid Words, an Ouran fic
Title: The Three Days of Unsaid Words
Author: leafie_phoenix
Pairing: Mori x Haruhi
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1269
Summary: She knows he's not really keen on saying what's on his mind, but that's alright. In three days, Haruhi will transform from a rookie into an expert of Mori's psyche...which will end on the fourth day with his challenge -- a new language of unsaid words.

Written for morixharuhi and Naturally Wild

итак, фанфик на инглише о том, кто мне понравился больше других - о Мори. Поехали, штоле.

She stares. Wide-eyed. Mouth slightly agape. No sound comes from her mouth, despite her attempts to let her voice out and be heard. Realizing how idiotic she might have looked, she closes her mouth and tries blinking instead.

It might have given him the wrong signal, because now he might think that she is fluttering her eyelids on purpose, and that would yield even more horrendous results.

His lazy eyes gaze into her indulging chocolate-brown ones, leaning even closer towards her. He does not speak – not through words, at least. The way he tilts his head and arches his eyebrows tells her, 'You should have seen this coming,' while his mouth curves into a smile – one of the rare instances he had ever smiled at her, indicating she shouldn't worry so much.

The determination in her eyes tells him, "Alright, I'll do it," despite the gruelling fear pitting in her stomach. So she returns his smile with her own, of sweet innocence and sunny disposition that is entirely Haruhi's.

It had been three days since the unfortunate event happened – or rather, it would have been unfortunate if Mori hadn't been there. She hated being looked down as a damsel in distress who needs help; she is an independent girl who managed to look after herself (and her father) well, after all. Normally she would have been more careful, she would not let herself caught off guard, and she had lived all her life being wary of her surroundings...

One slip up caused her defences to crumble.

She had been out shopping for groceries at the local supermarket, stocking up her provisions for another week to come. The little boy was crying in a corner, unnoticed at first, but a lonely lost little boy in the middle of nowhere was too much for her to ignore.

She had wanted to help him find his parents.

That little boy though, misplaced her trust and did the one thing Haruhi never thought a little naive boy could.

"Hey, stop that!" she shouted in shock as the little boy tugged aggressively at her tote bag, roughly snatching it from her loose grip and hopped away to wherever his little central crime base was. Being light and seemingly athletic, the boy kept running with utmost haste despite Haruhi's attempt to chase after him – of which she failed utterly.

Admitting defeat, Haruhi's sprint came to an abrupt halt, stumbling, panting for oxygen. In a warped moment, Haruhi swore the boy was as jumpy as Honey-senpai. For a split second, an image of a mischievous Honey skipping across the Third Music Room with a stuffed bunny crossed her mind, only to be replaced by an image of the tiny midget's far more serious sentinel – the lanky, mysterious, silent Takashi Morinozuka – watching Honey. Watching her.

For the second time that day, she jumped in shock.

A large, male hand tapped her shoulder, causing her to flinch. The little boy suddenly appeared before her eyes, hanging from someone's strong grasp – tall, at least one head above hers. Her eyes widened in surprise to see who was carrying the boy as if he was lightweight as a feather. Holding the tote bag in his tiny clutches, the boy only managed to squeak out a faint, "Sorry," before handing it back to her. Automatically, she slapped her forehead and launched forward to retrieve her tote bag, with a distorted smile on her pale face.

"Uh, thank you so much," she stuttered, unable to face her 'saviour'. She could already feel the blood rising to her cheeks despite the utter coldness of the weather. "And sorry for troubling you," she added awkwardly, before raising her head up.

She should know how he could carry the boy with such ease. She even knew that he could lift an even heavier amount of weight.

Because he had lifted her in his arms before. Many times.

Effortlessly.

The little thief was reprimanded afterwards. Haruhi found out that he was forced to steal by the mastermind of the crime – the boy's own elder brother. She instantly thought of Oliver Twist, and wondered if the boy would find a nobler way to earn money for living.

What boggled her mind even further though was his sudden appearance out of nowhere. What was he doing in a commoner's shopping complex? And by himself, at that?

"Umm, Mori-senpai?" she whispered throatily, in a voice unlike her own. They were walking now, side by side. Him carrying the bags of groceries for her, while she bore a peculiar feeling in her heart.

"Hmm...?" came his only reply. As expected from him.

She usually had no problem conversing with anyone – much less everyone else in the Host Club. Tamaki and his incessant banters. Kyouya and his conniving plans. The Hitachiin twins and their endless teases and pranks. Honey-senpai and his adorable temperament, squealing, "Haru-chan!" one minute or another. She would have excellent responses to each and every one of them save one.

To make matters worse, she had been left alone only once with him before, and even that very short period of time managed to make her head spin with...spin with what? Desire?

She choked.

Silence hovered over them as he waited, patiently for her to continue her question.

"Umm, I wonder what business you have at the shopping complex," she said at last. Her mouth was dry.

"Oh."

"Eh?"

"Hmm..."

"Hmmm...?"

This was going nowhere. Haruhi was beginning to curse herself in frustration when he finally opened up.

"I was hanging out," Mori told her in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Hanging out...alone?" Haruhi eyed him sceptically.

He nodded, almost sheepishly, almost un-Mori.

"And you just happened to be there when the snatch-and-run occurred?"

"Uh-huh," he said hesitantly, more like a guttural groan than a convincing agreement. Haruhi was having trouble accepting his super short and sweet answers, but she decided not to press the matter further.

Another silence.

"Did you have fun?" she blurted out, this time quickly covering her mouth with her hands, guilty for breaking the stillness.

To her surprise, Mori broke out into a huge grin and said, "Yes, I did," confidently.

Loud.

Clear.

The quiet, almost serene environment of the Third Music Room is about to be filled with noise from the incoming guests. Footsteps, voices, laughter. Customers flock around their favourite hosts; Haruhi is of no exception as she finds herself swarmed by doting fans.

From the corner of her eyes, though, he is still visible. Towering over the rest of the crowd in the room, he is not easy to miss. The sound of Honey-senpai's voice reaches her ears, followed by cheers from his customers. Mori stands there in his everlasting stillness, surrounded by shifting motions that seems to revolve around him.

Watching Honey.

Suddenly his eyes dart to where she currently sits.

Watching her.

Her imagination three days before has become some sort of a twisted reality, because she is not supposed to blush at his intent gaze, neither should her heart skip a beat.

Had he watched her before, she probably would not feel anything. Yet, after their silent exchange only minutes earlier, butterflies begin to invade her stomach, a tingling sensation down her spine as she plays this dangerous game of taciturn stares and explicit yearnings (implicit to others – as only the two participants can read each other in this unspoken language). He is her opponent.

She had agreed to this even when she knows he has the upper hand.

Haruhi is hell-bent to make him fight harder for the loot.
==============
To be continued...
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Three days ago, it was Saturday. The day of Mori's unexpected appearance at the mall and walked her home. The day she had invited him inside her little cosy house out of courtesy and realized that she had never brought a male friend home. The entire Host Club didn't count, of course.

He had stayed for a mere ten minutes for a sip of strawberry-flavoured tea – a commoner's brand of instant tea, mind you, before he excused himself for his kendo practice.

Then, came Sunday. Which was two days ago.

Sunday was the day she wished never had happened in her life, because it was the day Mori had come to her house again – because her father had invited him on the night before, after learning that he had saved her daughter. To her horror, her father didn't even tell her that he was coming – he merely shrugged it off and told her, "Well, maybe I forgot to tell you. I invited him last night!"

So when she heard her doorbell rang, imagine her surprise when her gaze lifted up to meet a pair of dark, unreadable eyes staring right back at her.

"Ehhh? Mori-senpai? What are you doing here?"

The person in question did not even have the time to mutter a reply before Haruhi's father appeared at the door, welcoming him in, seating him at the table and said something her ears mind could not quite comprehend - "Thank you so much for coming, I never thought that you'd actually respond to my breakfast invite!"

"Breakfast invite?" Haruhi asked, her eyebrows arched.

Which led to her father's shrug.

To make matters worse, her father had decided to leave both of them alone that morning by cheerily giving a lame excuse, "I've promised to see a friend, so you two take care now!" before disappearing off.

Haruhi could only let out a heavy sigh. Nonetheless, she could not let her guest down, no matter how unexpected his arrival was. Especially when that guest was Mori-senpai. Struggling for words, she finally asked him hesitantly, "How was kendo practice yesterday?"

"Fine," he replied curtly.

"Right," Haruhi nodded, fiddling with her coffee mug. She tried again. "Umm, so, no kendo practices again today?"

"Nope," he answered truthfully.

She could only hear the clock ticking. Silently, she counted the seconds that passed before anyone would open their mouths and say something.

One.

Two.

Three. Four. Five. Six.

Seven. Eight.

Nine. Te- ohh...crap. She's not a kindergarten kid anymore. Her maths was already fine, thank you. Her flying thoughts snapped, though, when he broke the silence, still on the subject of kendo after nearly 30 seconds of fidgeting.

"Although...," he began, "If anyone asks," he paused, "I was never here."

Haruhi inadvertently slammed her mug on the table out of reflex. "Wha...?" Her mouth hung in shock. "I'm sorry, but what do you mean by that?" she asked again, this time pulling herself together, trying not to forget her manners.

It was Mori's turn to frown. "Neither was I at the mall yesterday," he said awkwardly.

"Uh-huh...but you were at the mall yesterday."

"If anyone asks," he repeated himself, "I was at a kendo practice. All yesterday afternoon. And today, too. Now, in fact," he peered at his watch.

"So you're supposed to be at a kendo practice, but you came here instead?"

"..."

"Mori-senpai?"

"There was never a kendo practice to begin with, but everyone else thinks there is," he explained.

A slight tingle crept up Haruhi's spine. "And I should join you in telling this lie, because...?"

His gaze dropped to the floor. It was evident that he was having trouble explaining this sudden secretive stance of his. She knew he was not exactly the articulate one in their friendship - he was uniquely silent, thoughtful and exquisitely thorough at hiding his true feelings. Had it been someone else he was having this conversation with, that person would have deemed him rude. Not only did he not reply to Haruhi's hanging question, then he fumbled through his backpack, searching for something. He must have found it when his hand stopped moving inside the backpack, suddenly looking straight at Haruhi.

"You like strawberries, yes?"

Haruhi's eyes narrowed. This was the same question he had asked her when the Host Club came for a visit. She realized that he and she were sitting at the same spots as last time, and she did not know what to say.

"Yes...?" she replied cautiously, having the faintest idea of where Mori was taking this.

When he pulled out a mysterious Tupperware and placed it on the table, she became totally speechless. His hand pushed the Tupperware towards her, the gentle movement of his fingers silently urging her to take a peek inside.

Her head tilted downwards as she carefully opened the lid to reveal a slice of cheesecake. A strawberry cheesecake. A luscious piece of strawberry cheesecake, in fact, which made her mouth water instantly. Amazed and confused, she looked at Mori who seemed to be waiting for her to come up with a response.

"This looks delicious," she said.

He insisted that she should try it, or so she thought (since he was still silent). She had merely guessed from the twinkle of delight in his eyes.

She tasted it with her fingers and swore she had gone straight to Heaven.

"Where did you get this?" she inquired as she took one, large chomp – something any other proper female student at Ouran wouldn't have done; her face instantly lighting up. "This tastes so good!"

Mori only tilted his head to one side as he watched her nibble on a strawberry, his mouth curving into a little smile. Haruhi saw his reaction, and she knew right away.

"You made this?" It was her turn for her eyes to shine in astonishment.

He nodded.

"Seriously?"

He nodded again, this time with more vigour.

Realization avalanched upon her like a pile of high-quality bricks.

"You were at the mall's supermarket yesterday..." she swallowed, "to buy the ingredients...to make this cheesecake, didn't you?"

Mori leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles, placing his elbow on the table. Intently listening to Haruhi's deduction. Which, to his own surprise, was the truth. He was impressed, yet he kept his cool. Kept quiet. Kept her guessing.

"But I didn't see you carry any grocery bags..."

Mori's eyes diverted to his backpack, signalling Haruhi that he had everything hidden inside it.

She understood and had her 'completely-taken-aback' face on immediately.

"You spent the whole day yesterday making a cheesecake," she said, almost in a sing-song voice, not quite believing it, but saw no reason why Mori should lie. "And you don't want anyone else to know it," she added.

He harrumphed slightly.

"Why?" she asked with genuine interest.

This time, she wasn't able to decipher his clouded expression. She managed to identify, though, that it was the exact expression he had on his face when Honey-senpai had told Mori he hated him, or when that same cousin of his had gone missing.

Worry began to creep inside her.

"Is this about Honey-senpai? Were you making this cake for him? Were you guys fighting again, or something?"

Her next expression was purely made out of total shock, because Mori suddenly burst into a hearty chuckle.

Mori. Never. Chuckled.

Haruhi had no idea how wrong her conclusion was; however plausible it may have sounded.

====================

Yesterday was Monday.

One heck of a Manic Monday.

She had tried her best to avoid Mori all day, knowing that she would still fail once the Host Club was opened anyway. She had washed the Tupperware, intending to return it to him at once, but she chickened out. No wonder he had chortled enthusiastically – a far cry from the Takashi Morinozuka she had come to know – when she asked him whether Honey was mad at him.

Because clearly, Honey wasn't.

In fact, Mori was carrying Honey on a piggy back ride across the room with that stern look fixed on his face, as he walked towards her with long, graceful strides. Honey was grinning. Something was up. Even so, Mori never laughed. It was nearly taboo to even imagine him laugh, much less see him do it at all. Ironically, she did see him laugh, only a day ago.

To think about it, he was reserved and stoic around this circle of friends – the Host Club, the students at Ouran. The only person who would really know the real Mori was Honey-senpai. Surely he could shed some light to the absurdity that was Mori's cheesecake, no matter how awesome it tasted?

Honey was already on his feet, Mori nowhere in sight. The tiny, blond senior tugged at Haruhi's coat.

"Yes, Honey-senpai?"

To add to Haruhi's ever-expanding bewilderment, the cheeky blond only grinned and giggled. A glint in his huge eyes told her that he knew something, but refused to disclose the information to her, and wanted her to figure it out on her own. She turned pale when Honey simply replied with a wink, "If anyone asks, I was at the kendo practice sessions with Takashi, too!" and skipped away merrily as if nothing had happened.

"Huh? What was supposed to mean?" she thought hard to herself, trying to make sense of Mori and Honey's insistence that they had indeed been to non-existent kendo practices. She was left to ponder upon the situation alone, until she overheard a conversation between Tamaki, Kyouya, Mori and the extra-excited Honey moments later:

"How was the kendo training camp?" she heard Kyouya ask Mori and Honey.

Tamaki chirped in. "There was a kendo training camp? When?"

"Yesterday," Honey replied. "And on Saturday, too. It was great!"

Mori grunted.

"Really? Where was it?" Tamaki asked again, truly interested in the subject matter.

"Umm...at the City Sports Hall," Honey squeaked, panic slightly evident in his voice. To Haruhi's semi-trained ear, she was almost certain that Honey had not thought of the answer before just now. Worse, she swore she had heard Mori frown.

"Really? I was at the Sports Hall yesterday and didn't see you guys," Kyouya's brow puckered.

'Damn,' Haruhi cursed. It was definitely dangerous to get Kyouya sniffing at their tails now, because their cover would definitely be blown in minutes. Mori glared at Honey with a look that probably would have said, 'I told you not to push it, now look what you've done.'

"Well...what time were you there?" Honey inquired.

"Since morning. I joined their Pilates weekend bootcamp. Funny, I don't remember seeing any Kendo Training Camps being held there..."

Honey's eyes widened, flabbergasted. "Umm, that was...umm..."

"Near, not at," Mori finally finished Honey's fumbling sentence. An enormous surprise to all.

"Yeah, I was there yesterday," Haruhi voiced suddenly. She could not help but add to Mori's comments, knowing how she had been involved in this crazy plot, despite not fully understanding the reason behind it. Kyouya pushed his glasses up his nose, which was not particularly a good sign.

"The camp was near the Sports Hall, not at the Sports Hall. You know, when you turn left when you go down the Sports Hall street, and then there was this small, passerby's-only path..." Haruhi was rambling, not even caring if the directions weren't of any sense.

"Umm...I've never seen a passerby's-only path..." Tamaki started, before he was quickly cut off by Honey.

"Yeah, I thought there wasn't any path either, but actually, there is! Our chauffeurs only drive pass the area, we've never really walked down the street before, so we can't see it very well!"

"Anyway," Kyouya turned to Haruhi, "what were you doing there in the first place?"

"Yeah..." Tamaki trailed off, looking slightly annoyed. "What important matter should bring my daughter to a dodgy place?"

'Here comes the overprotective-father attitude again,' Haruhi thought she thought, only to realize that she had said it out loud.

"Sorry?" Tamaki asked confusingly, wondering if he had heard her right.

"She said, she had to follow her father again," Mori mumbled almost unintelligibly from the corner. Haruhi gasped slightly at his interference, albeit a positive one. Mori was never a keen talker, even amongst themselves. And there he was, covering up for her as she covered up for him. The lie came naturally from his mouth as if he had thought about it for some time.

"Uhh, yeah..." she stammered, as Mori stood up and left the group to help himself to a cup of tea. She forgot entirely what she wanted to say as she watched him saunter elegantly towards them at the sofa again.

In fact, he brought two cups of tea. He placed one of those cups directly in front of her, indicating he brought it especially for her. After duelling with nervousness over listening to boys' conversation; before troubling herself by joining in, only did she realize how thirsty she was. A little smile touched her lips as she thought of Mori's attentiveness. The smile grew even more as she watched Mori's fingers, gesturing her to 'drink the tea before it gets cold,' – the same gentle movement when he had asked her to open the cheesecake Tupperware yesterday.

No one else seemed to notice, though. What they were interested in, rather, was for further explanation as to why she had 'been there.'

"Like Mori said, I had to follow my father," she said, this time with more conviction, "to visit his old friend." Listening to herself now, even she would believe herself. "He does it all the time, dragging me to see his old buddies," she paused, taking a sip of her tea. "And it so happens that his friend's house was only a block away from the Kendo camp."

She was so concentrated on telling the lie that she didn't even catch the taste of the tea properly on her tongue. Kyouya, who was already pouring himself a cup, took a peek at the tea's label and exclaimed, "I haven't seen this brand before. It's a commoner's brand, isn't it? Did you buy it?" he asked, pointing to Haruhi. She sat upright, staring at the tea packet container Kyouya was examining and back at her own cup again, heart beating faster.

"Oh, no," came Honey's unexpected reply, causing Haruhi to flinch. "Takashi bought it yesterday. He told me that someone introduced it to him, and he liked the exquisite fusion taste immediately. Right, Takashi?" Suspiciously, the little midget beamed at Haruhi.

"Ahh," Mori muttered.

Haruhi shivered. Tentatively, she took another sip of tea as delicate as possible, as if she was scared that it would spill. Even as the tea's aroma filled her nostrils, she didn't even have to savour the feel of the liquid swirling around her tongue, for she already knew.

Her eyes did not trick her. Neither did her nose, or her tongue.

It was the same instant tea (or commoner's tea, which ever you wish to call it) brand she had at home – the same one she had served Mori, on the day he had walked her home. It had the same rich fragrance that she loved to breathe in while she was brewing the concoction. And the taste was highly unmistakable, for the tea was definitely fused with...

"Strawberries!" Tamaki proclaimed animatedly after he took a large gulp of the beverage. "Excellent taste! Brilliant, too. This is fascinating!"

"I agree," Kyouya quietly remarked. "And very economical, too. We should get more of these," furiously scribbling down the tea's brand name and price into his records.

"Whoa, Mori-senpai," Tamaki said in incredulity. "Whoever introduced you to this is a genius."

Blush crept up to Haruhi's cheeks. Mori had remembered the brand and flavour of her favourite tea. As Tamaki's last words were left hung in the air, Kyouya was already seated back at his laptop, Tamaki crouching beside him as if to discuss Host Club revenue matters. Then, Honey crawled next to Haruhi on the sofa and knelt by her side, so that he was about her height.

"Haru-chan," Honey said her name, almost in tears.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Oh," she smiled. "By the way, Honey-senpai," her voice lowered, cautiously watching Tamaki and Kyouya in case they heard her. "What's with the lies?"

"It's complicated," the blond uttered, leaning closer to her ear so he could whisper.

"Mori-senpai made a Strawberry Cheesecake," Haruhi told him, in an attempt to lure Honey into telling her the truth.

"I know," he smirked impishly. "I helped him a wee bit. Haru-chan, can't you see already?"

"See what?" Haruhi asked, confused.

Honey leaned back into the sofa, tightly holding his precious stuffed bunny, his face slightly distorted with a mixture of hilarity and anguish. He shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. "Strawberry cheesecake, strawberry tea..."

Something in Haruhi snapped. Her eyes now wandered wildly around the Music Room, searching for signs of him.

There was none.

"Where did he go?" she asked Honey anxiously, her hands placed firmly on Honey's tiny shoulders as she controlled herself from shaking him too much.

"Eh? He was here a moment ago!" Honey replied, equally surprised at Mori's disappearance, as he jumped off the couch and spun around in search of his cousin. "Kyouya, Tamaki," he began, intending to ask them if they had seen Mori.

"Umm...he was here, wasn't he? What's up?" Kyouya asked casually.

"Uh, nothing," Haruhi flailed her hands dismissively. At that moment, faux terror in the form of the Hitachiin twins burst into the room. As they were about to pounce at Haruhi to share the latest news of exploits and pranks with her, Kyouya's icy, strict voice bellowed, "Hikaru! Kaoru!"

The twins were instantly frozen in place.

"Did you guys see Mori-senpai anywhere?" the bespectacled, conniving fox asked them.

"Well...he walked downstairs...probably to his classroom..."

Haruhi grabbed her bag and dashed for the door, beads of cold sweat emerging on her forehead. "I'm an idiot," she rebuked herself at the back of her mind. Her actions had caused Tamaki, Hikaru and Kaoru's jaws to drop. After seconds she had left the room, Kaoru finally managed a croaky, "What's up with that?"

Honey tilted his head, trying hard to suppress a grin. "I think she wanted to return something to him...something he lent her."

Kyouya kept on typing away on his computer with priceless information – regardless of its' incongruity. He could not contain his amusement as he clandestinely typed in the next set of data:

Name (borrower): Haruhi Fujioka

Name (lender): Takashi Morinozuka

Item (Quantity): Tupperware (1); content unknown. Something related to strawberries, probably.

Date borrowed: Sometime between Saturday and Sunday. Most probably Sunday (yesterday).

Date returned: Monday (today)

Reason borrowed: Unknown.

She ran down two staircases, three long corridors and peeked inside countless numbers of classrooms before she finally found him in a place that suited him best –

The library.

She wished she hadn't carried two thick textbooks together with his Tupperware in her backpack, because she had ran to the final place she could think of – the Ouran Library - with utmost haste - but it seemed that it wasn't getting any nearer. When she finally saw him sitting casually in secluded corner, she walked up to him, still panting, took off her heavy backpack and threw it aimlessly on the floor.

It landed with a thud.

Her knees felt knobbly and weak. She swore she could have passed out when he looked at her humorously, as if she could as well be the laughing stock of all Japan. That angered her a bit, but then he knelt down from his chair and picked up her bag, placing it carefully on the chair next to his left.

Simple thoughtful gestures that made her stubborn heart flutter.

He tapped on her bag twice and lifted it again in mockery, his eyebrows arched at her a little bit, shaking his head. She could imagine that deep, mysterious voice of his, utter the words spoken through his body language – 'This is heavy. I have no idea how you can carry this around without breaking your back.'

She shrugged, indicating she was used to it, so he didn't have to worry.

Her eyes flickered to the book he was reading when she barged in, laid open on the table. Sensing her curiosity, Mori lifted the book for her to read the cover:-

War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. How...appropriate.

She immediately slouched on the chair to his right, breathing in, out. In, out. He resumed reading, but even then he could not help but notice her watching him from the corner of his eyes. Having trouble focusing on his reading material, Mori closed the thick book and swiftly turned to face her.

"I came to return your Tupperware back," she murmured, her fingers fidgeting at the hem of her blazer.

"Uh-huh," he replied.

It was Haruhi's turn of having trouble concentrating, as she watched his Adam's apple move at every single sound he made – because he spoke so rarely, she found it fascinating. Her gaze travelled lower to the crook of his neck, the V of his collared shirt – because he always wore it with the top button loose, it made her fingers itch to touch the teasingly obscured flesh beneath it. And then there was his tie – unlike other clean cut students, he was too carefree to tighten it properly – apart from Kasanoda-kun, of course, who had deliberately made it clear that he was somewhat a gangster.

"Keep it," he added.

"I insist," she retorted tersely. 'Please, Mori-senpai,' she pleaded with her huge, round eyes.

Mori closed his eyes for a moment, admitting defeat. "Where?"

Her gaze shifted from his perfectly chiselled jaw to her bag. "The first zip," she told him.

"Mmkay." But he didn't move. Instead, he continued to read her face absorbedly.

Nearly impatient, Haruhi leaned over him to do it herself, but he caught her hand before even reaching the halfway mark. She gasped in shock at the sudden skin contact. His hand was enticingly warm, unlike her quivering, cold one, but the secure feeling as he squeezed her hand gently, transferring the heat – his heat – to her, quickly resolved any doubts about sitting here and doing this.

She wasn't even able to look at him now, especially not when his other hand had reached up to her cheek, gently stroking, caressing her sensitive earlobe. His long, beautiful fingers moved downwards to the side of her neck, before travelling north again. His thumb finally rested on her chin, tilting her head upwards with the gentlest force – in order for her to look at him.

Look. At. Him.

Just keep looking.

And not saying anything.

Haruhi understood everything now, from the moment she saw him at the mall. Why he had told her that he had fun 'hanging out' – it wasn't just because of the mundane thrills of a commoner's hangout place. It was because his thoughts of her, because he had gone out to buy things to surprise her, and was rewarded with her own unexpected appearance. He had not let the chance slip by him when he caught the boy who had stolen her tote bag – and then, he had walked her home.

If he had been outrageously elated at that time, he had not shown it. Instead, he had pretended that everything was normal – he had remained the taciturn senior to her unsuspecting, innocent demeanour. Only God knew how he was about to burst in euphoria when she had looked up at him with those brown eyes of her, licking her delectable lips naively, wondering what exactly was he thinking about.

Even if her father had not invited him to come on Sunday, he would still show up at her door. He had worked hard to make sure that the Strawberry Cheesecake plan worked. And it did, even if towards the end she had come up with a disastrous conclusion over the point of his visit. He had let out an accidental chuckle, because watching her gobbling over that poor slice of cake and listen to her 'Mori-senpai had an argument with Honey-senpai again' theory was simply...amusing.

But he had to stick to his plan – a clandestine plan he had brilliantly thought of, and made possible by joining arms with Honey-senpai – who must had been jumping over the moon upon finding out who Mori's object of perpetual affection was.

It was her.

Haruhi Fujioka, adored by the Takashi Morinozuka.

That thought made her slightly – no, tremendously, happy.

He ran his fingers in her soft, short, boyish hair; pulling her gently towards him in a warm embrace. Placing her hand over his heart, she could feel how fast it was beating, how hard it was for him to not ravish her with utter abandon at that very minute. He did not say the words, yet she understood: - 'I've always liked you. Darn it, I care about you. I wish I could hold you like this forever.'

His eyes compelled her to sway even closer to him as the tip of his nose touched her own, nuzzling, for the longest of time before their lips finally brushed against each other. Feeling less intimidated, Haruhi set out to do what she had wanted to do when she saw Mori there, alone, in the dimmed, dusty, dry surrounding. Her hand ran up and down his toned chest – something she was able to feel even after covered by layers of clothing. Gripping the lapels of his blazer, she later wrapped her arms around the nape of his neck as his tongue began to trace her lips – before coaxing her gently to open her mouth and receive his full invasion.

A silent seduction.

Short, sweet.

Strawberries.

As the kiss deepened, she tasted hints of strawberries in his mouth. It made her smile even as their tongues danced together, passionately. Instantaneously, that very awareness caused her to choke up and broke the kiss – as both panted for air, and tears began to well up in her eyes.

Tears of incomprehensive emotions.

She had been practical, all her life. Natural in her stance, never to be led by emotions.

Often had she wondered why he was called the 'Wild Type' when he was every bit the contradiction of the unfortunate title. He was never seen to pursue girls, although many were attracted to him. Neither was he reckless, although his some of his impulsive actions and rare spontaneity never failed to mystify her.

She was sorely mistaken.

Maybe this was her first real kiss, and maybe she was inexperienced...but this, to her, was nothing short of wild. And because of that, their worlds clashed.

Abruptly grabbing her bag from the chair, she pulled out his Tupperware and slammed it on the desk. "I c-can't d-do this," she stuttered. "Sorry, senpai," she bowed.

'Then go,' his ravenous eyes told her intrepidly.

Shaking, she quickly turned and ran past him.

Past the library door.

Past the gates of the school.

But she could not hide.
===================

Haruhi Fujioka is a coward.

She has her qualms about going to school today – not because she hasn't finished her homework, or there is going to be a history test today, or the very fact that she feels lightheaded.

Dizzy, from Mori's kiss.

Last night, while in bed, she did contemplate about skipping the Host Club after school, but an image of a sneering Kyouya, reminding her of her debt came to mind. Definitely not a good idea. At all.

So, when she enters the Third Music Room later that afternoon, she is more than relieved to find that Mori doesn't seem to realize her presence. Unfortunately, Haruhi is Haruhi and she could not be more than wrong about sensing auras.

Because Honey definitely could see the sparks flying across the room, where Mori now stands and where Haruhi currently sits. Surprisingly, the room is extremely silent, considering the fact that the Hitachiin twins are also present, yet not causing havoc. The only sound filling the awkward stillness is Kyouya tapping away on his laptop, and only God knows what he's typing about. And then the twins begin to whisper to each other.

"What are you two whispering about?" Haruhi asks with that innocent smile on her face, her eyes large and unsuspecting. If joining the twins in a conversation is Haruhi's idea of avoiding Mori all day long, she is bound to be let down.

"Umm...we're just comparing your height with Mori-senpai's, that's all!" Kaoru replies; not quite looking at her – but someone standing behind her instead.

"Huh?" Haruhi stands in shock at the mere mention of his name. Before she could react, the twins are already out of sight, leaving her to turn around and bumping straight into someone.

A tall, stoic man who proceeds to reach out his arms to balance her stance.

"Haruhi," he calls her name gently, "are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," she croaks nervously. Her gaze stays fixed on the floor, staring hard at her small, shabby shoes. She could not help but compare them with his shiny black ones.

"Sorry," he says again, waking her from drifting thoughts. His hands are still at her shoulders, not quite ready to let go. Warm. Comfortable.

They still have not moved, as if they are frozen in time.

It seems as if he wants to pull her into his embrace, but he does not do so.

It seems as if she is swaying closer towards him, as if she wants to be pulled into his embrace, but she does not do so.

The typing sounds have stopped a long while ago, but neither realizes it.

"You're not a coward, Haruhi," Mori whispers as he brings his fingers to her chin, tilting her head up. 'Look at me,' the gesture must have said. Realization crashes upon Haruhi as she finds herself trapped between the wall of the Third Music Room and the towering height of Takashi Morinozuka.

"I am not a coward," she repeats after him almost dumbly, as if he has hypnotized her.

And so she stares.

Wide-eyed.

Mouth slightly agape.

No sound comes from her mouth, despite her attempts to let her voice out and be heard. Realizing how idiotic she might have looked, she closes her mouth and tries blinking instead. It might have given him the wrong signal, because now he might think that she is fluttering her eyelids on purpose, and that would yield even more horrendous results.

Because after her cowardly attempts of running away yesterday, she knows she still has to face him today.

And now she has.

His lazy eyes gaze into her indulging chocolate-brown ones, leaning even closer towards her. He does not speak – not through words, at least. The way he tilts his head and arches his eyebrows tells her, 'You should have seen this coming,' while his mouth curves into a smile – one of the rare instances he had ever smiled devilishly at her, indicating she shouldn't worry so much.

His daring gaze tells her, 'Screw what other people think. All I want to know is how you feel about this. About us.' He leans in closer as she expects another kiss. Instead, he growls unintelligibly which could only mean, 'Tell me.'

She keeps staring at him without recoil. 'No, wait. Don't tell me,' he signals by putting a finger up, contradicting himself slyly. Of which to Haruhi's alarm, his smirk is almost similar to Kyouya's. She gulps and looks away.

'I hereby challenge you, Haruhi Fujioka,' he dares with his dark eyes, 'to give me an answer before today ends.' As a final touch, he whispers in her ear gruffly, "Yes or no. That's all I need to know."

She could feel herself shrink. "Th-this is t-too fast," she stammers. Her gaze stays fixed at the stripes of his tie, unable to meet his eyes. "We need to talk this through," she continues, yet immediately regrets what she has just said - because talking and Mori does not really go together.

Her slight wince does not escape Mori's attention. "We'll talk this through," he replies idly, an answer that makes Haruhi's eyes snap and look at him startlingly. "We'll talk this through until we get to the bottom of it. We'll talk until no word is left unsaid between us," he professes.

"Mori-senpai..." is all Haruhi could come up with as her best reply.

"Takashi," he corrects her.

"You know I can't..."

"Why?"

"Because...you're you. And I'm me."

"So?"

This time, it is Haruhi's turn to become speechless. She has never seen Mori so quick in replying banters before, no matter how short his answers are. Neither has he been this garrulous nor resolute. Her instinct tells her to give in because it feels so right...but this is reality.

Reality does not usually end with happy endings, especially for someone like her in the picture. Add Mori and happily-ever-after will be even more impossible. Won't it?

She does not even have the time to think for a proper answer, because he swiftly pulls her body into his arms, catching her by surprise. He bends forward and rests his forehead on her right shoulder, letting her snuggle closer as her own arms reach up around his neck. As her fingers begin to touch his disarrayed hair gingerly, the austerity of the walls is soon forgotten as she clings to his warmth.

"Haruhi?" he mumbles into the crook of her neck, pressing her against the solid wall, yet careful not to crush her.

"Hmm?"

"You haven't answered me."

"Oh."

"And now you're beginning to sound like me," he chuckles.

Haruhi blushes, yet she says nothing in objection. This time, she'll stay silent and let him do all the talking. Because it hit her how much she loves hearing his deep voice, it feels like a lullaby – giving her hope that this might really work; soothing her fears. Especially when he murmurs sweet nothings in her ear; his hot breath tickling her cheeks.

Like now.

"You think too much, it's unlike you," he points out. Mori could feel her nodding against his chest, her grip of his blazer tightening. "This can't last forever, Haruhi," he confesses in utter seriousness.

In shock of his words, Haruhi turns her head abruptly to look at him, asking silently for explanation.

"I'm so tired," Mori sighs, nuzzling his cheek against hers. Pausing for a second, he continues, "I talk rubbish when I'm tired," he admits. "Incessantly," he added. "Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be saying anything at all, because everything will come out wrong. And no one would listen anyway."

"I would," Haruhi responds with utmost honesty.

"Then I'm guilty for taking advantage of you," he tells her, almost sadly.

"How about Honey-senpai?" she asks quizzically.

"He's family. From that perspective, he doesn't count. You're...different."

Haruhi could feel Mori smiling wryly against her cheek. Slowly, she slides downwards, pulling Mori gently with her, never breaking the embrace. With her back against the wall, she takes a moment to examine Mori's clouded expression and notices his heavy-lidded eyes fighting hard to stay awake. She touches his cheek and guides his head on her lap, as he takes the liberty to lie on the Persian-carpeted-floor, long legs stretching out.

"It's been a long day. You should rest," Haruhi whispers as her fingers play at his temples. "At least take a nap. The Host Club will open in an hour," she tells him.

"I know," he closes his eyes for a moment, "but if I fall asleep now there won't be a chance for us to converse this well again," he explains.

"It doesn't matter. I think I can read your thoughts already, Mori-senpai." she smiles. "Like you can read mine."

"Really?"

She nods eagerly.

"Then what am I thinking about right now?"

The question catches her by surprise, yet she doesn't flinch. Instead, she takes the time to read his expression, no matter how sleepy he looks (or how good-looking he is), and comes up with a sheepish answer, "Umm...you're thinking of how I should stop calling you Mori-senpai and start calling you Takashi?"

"And that's why you're a scholarship student," Mori yawns, yet the spark of amazement in his eyes is evident. Haruhi wonders how a man still could look attractive and/or adorable when he is yawning, but probably Mori is an exception. And she beams at the compliment.

"It's also why I like you, Haruhi Fujioka."

Really, Haruhi has no witty reply to that. Instead, she leans forward to kiss his forehead and tells him gently, "Just sleep now, Takashi."

Mori wakes up 15 minutes later when Honey emerges through the large doors of the Music Room, exclaiming, "Today we're having Black Forest cake!" No one says anything at the sight of Mori sleeping on Haruhi's lap, except for Kaoru, Hikaru and Tamaki who are about to make a fuss before Kyouya tells them to prepare for their next cosplay.

As expected, Mori is back to his silent self when he wakes up, yet the yearning manifests in his eyes. His gaze seems to be questioning Haruhi, 'Is this still deemed a proper conversation?' while his little smile asks her, 'Will you still be joining me in this little awkward silent world of mine?'

Two full seconds pass before the determination in her eyes tells him, 'Alright, I'll do it,' despite the gruelling fear pitting in her stomach. So she returns his smile with her own, of sweet innocence and sunny disposition, which is entirely Haruhi's.

The words are still unspoken, yet they understand each other perfectly.

'Were you mad at me?' she asks him from afar, as he sits stoically among his customers.

His brows wrinkled. 'What for?'

'For running away,' she shrugs.

He tilts his head to one side, 'Never.' He smiles, 'Actually, I already expected that response from you.'

She shudders in disbelief.

'Oh, believe me,' he nods stealthily. 'I can read your mind, remember?'

She pouts in retort. 'Oh really? Then what am I thinking about right now?'

'You're thinking hard of something witty to say to me next.'

Mori 1, Haruhi 0.

Even through simple gestures, they can hear each others' voices, loud and clear.

She touches her lips. 'I still can taste you,' she confesses.

He sips his tea – the strawberry-flavoured tea, a twinkle apparent in his eyes. 'I can taste you too,' he holds the cup up towards her. To outsiders, it would seem as if he is inviting Haruhi to join him for a drink, but she knows better. 'This was how you tasted like yesterday,' he puts the cup back on to the saucer, 'I wonder if it will stay the same today. And I can't wait to find out.'

He always gets the last word.

Mori 2, Haruhi 0.

For the first time in her life, a conversation with Mori is never awkward despite the silence. In fact, she seems to be enjoying this tranquil game laden with excitement.

'Since when?' her brows knit up.

'Good question. Since I held you the first time and realized you're a girl? Since I went to your house with the Host Club, maybe? I don't know...you?'

'The day you said my name out loud for the first time, I guess. You know, when...'

His eyes shoot up. 'Mitsukuni disappeared.'

She nods. 'Because I thought you hated me. Because you've never really acknowledged me as a Host Club Member...'

His mouth opens slightly as if to speak, then he closes it again. 'Haruhi,' he silently pleads.

She knows this round belongs to her.

Mori 2, Haruhi 1.

"We'll talk until no word is left unspoken between us," he has said. They're talking to each other, alright. Let the others keep on guessing. This is a language Haruhi would never regret learning.

The customers have left, and now they opposite each other at the table, eating the Black Forest cake Honey brought.

Haruhi brings the spoon to her mouth.

'Where is the rest of the cheesecake?' she twirls the spoon mischievously.

'Mitsukuni. He couldn't help but take a bite,' Mori bites a little cherry as he eyes Honey.

She blushes. Knowing entirely what Mori means, because 'a bite' in Honey's dictionary means a quarter of a cake, or even half.

'But,' Mori stands up, takes Haruhi's plate and adds another slice on top of it, 'half of it is still sitting pretty in my fridge at home.'

She blinks once, twice, her expression befuddled. 'Who's gonna eat it?'

Mori places the plate back in front of Haruhi. Leaning closer than he should have, he tilts his head and narrows his eyes dangerously. 'Why, you, of course. The little slice I brought the other day was just a teaser.'

The plate hits the table with a soft 'clank', the same moment her heart skips a beat, as she struggles to translate the hidden innuendo behind his furtive gaze.

'Yes, Haruhi. I'm inviting you back to my place,' he scoops a tiny piece of cake using her spoon, stretching his arm, raising it up to her mouth.

Her mouth opens slightly as he waits for her answer.

'Yes,' she ultimately accepts, by letting him feed her, gazing into each other's eyes. As he wipes the edges of her mouth gently, she knows she has lost the battle.

Mori 3, Haruhi 1.

-to be continued-

---

Гугл.

...по данным гугла...

Добро побеждает зло!

зло
Результатов: примерно 9 560 000 (0,30 сек.)
добро
Результатов: примерно 55 300 000 (0,38 сек.)

---

коллаж.

Проснулись - позавтракали - поспали - посмотрели Щелкунчика - поспали - поднялись - постирали - посмотрели телевизор...
День прошел на редкость лениво )
Теперь настал черед компьютера. Чем бы то ни было полезным заниматься катастрофически лень, так как утром мы уже обсосали в разговорах все и про жилые комплексы в Москве, и тема эта на сегодня исчерпала себя.
Поэтому - фотошо-о-оп! ))) Эта штука получилась сама собой. Обычно тематических коллажей от меня должаться сложно, все бессистемное. А тут что-то на меня нашло. Будем считать это своеобразной иллюстрацией к словесной зарисовке, которая была там где-то ниже. Ау, ау, ау.

@темы: креатив

---

БЛИН.

Социальная реклама жжет.

@темы: окопы мозга

---

Как. было. классно!

Я таки съездила повидаться с Нари. Он был оранжевый и совершенно на себя не похожий. Увидела Тагру, она и правда оказалась очаровательной )

А потом...стоило мне вернуться домой, как сообщение от Кендера, мол, Лиса, намечается квартирник, и будут Марлины, и все такое. Палатка посреди квартиры, пенки, костер и походная экипировка...
Кендер-киндер, спасибо тебе большущее, что вытащил меня туда! Это была ночь, которую можно будет очень долго вспоминать с улыбкой ))) Я не сказала тебе этого утром, чтобы не нарушать быстрыми мыслями покой твоего сонного мозга, так что говорю сейчас. Это было просто ВАУ! И камин, и ванная с ракушками, и обалденные песни под обалденную гитару (скажи, ты знал, что Дима споет песню на китайском? Я была в шоке!!!))).
Аррр, как все прекрасно...

А вот это - так, для памяти. Что-то намечается, что-то намечается!

8 ЯНВАРЯ- РЕТРОМАНИЯ @ STREET BAR

yaroslavkonoplya 6 часов назад

АРРРР, АПДЕЙТ! =)

20 ЯНВАРЯ - МАРЛИНЫ - ЖИВОЙ КОНЦЕРТ! @ STREET BAR

yaroslavkonoplya 6 часов назад

@темы: энергодесант, вести с полей, heartbeats

---

Кольца вещей.
rock and republic - джинсы этой марки мне отдала Рюи.
Лезу посмотреть их сайт.
Музыкальными сопровождением у них - внезапно - стоит Lykke Li - Get some, та, которую я нашла случайно и которая вынесла мне мозг своим голосом и разгильдяйской мелодией и пошлым текстом.
Привет.

---

Новый этап начинается. Надо собраться с мыслями, прогнать свою лень и заставить уже себя, черт возьми, что-то делать. Предстоят такие американские горки, что мама не горюй. Нужны не просто деньги, а ДЕНЬГИ - со всех больших букв, не только с первой.
И, черт, где бы бесплатно научиться 1С? Гг.
===
Нашла, где. Попробую скачать и разобраться.
===

Только что поняла внезапно, что херня это, товарищи - про то, что, мол, сложно все начинать с чистого листа. Простор действий! Полет фантазии! Вперед. Зато вот на измалеванном листе это куда как сложнее: понял уже, что художник ты бездарный, краски все истратил, ни одного свободного места себе не оставил - а лист один, и надо на нем изображать всего себя изнутри, как есть. То есть, то, что уже нарисовано - это Ты-Чтобы-Перед-Другими-Не было-Стыдно.
А теперь берешь, бло, и за неимением ластика или радикально-белой краски, рисуешь поверх дешевой зубной пастой такого себя, чтобы не было стыдно перед самим собой. Вроде бы и раньше знал, как оно все должно быть, ан нет - сподобился только после того, как угробил время на попытки приспособиться к окружающим.
Вот ведь парадоксы жизни.

@темы: вести с полей

---

Стерла и забыла.
Окей.
Не думала, что это будет настолько легко.
Надо выпить за это - глинтвейна или кофе, и пусть все идет дальше, как идет )...

---

Я не умею писать, не умею писать.

Что это, собственно? Это мне нечего было делать в гостях у Нани, и в рюкзаке обнаружилась тетрадка и ручка. Началось как бред, закончилось тоже как бред, и теперь оно просто есть.
Каспиан, Таарет, АУ, блобло. Не рекомендую читать тем, кто не знает, о чем речь.
То есть получается, Кас, что это - исключительно тебе. =)

Они и правда похожи, как брат и сестра. Каштановые волосы одного оттенка плещут на солнце...спутанные пряди, расплавленный шоколад.
У них похожие улыбки и манера завершать фразы друг за друга.
Общая на двоих любовь к темному времени суток - ложатся спать после полуночи и просыпаются с драматическими тенями под глазами, выходят к утреннему чаю под руку с недосмотренными сновидениями...одними на двоих.
Взаимодополняющие привычки: он забывает книги на подлокотниках кресел – она педантично ставит их на место. На рассвете он забывает в кресле на балконе теплый плед, в который она будет зябко кутаться на закате.
Они кусают губы, когда волнуются. Когда мечтают. Прикусывая нижнюю губу придерживают невысказанную мысль.
Хотя иногда ему кажется, что она произносит вслух его мысли.
Иногда ей кажется, что он делает то, на что ей никогда не хватило бы смелости.
Он считает, что даже в самом спокойном месте она сможет втравить его в авантюру.
Она думает, что среди толпы врагов она будет под его защитой.
Это словно картины из мелких мозаичных кусочков, о которых рассказывала Люси. Одинаковые изгибы, одинаковые рисунки.

... Одинаково ускоряющееся дыхание...одинаковый тон кожи - это заметно, когда его рука лежит на ее бедре.
Они похожи как...брат и сестра?...

@темы: креатив

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Новый год был встречен восхитительно...

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Новогодние фото )

еще три.

@темы: вести с полей, креатив

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С НОВЫМ ГОДОМ.

Поздравляю еще раз всех тех, кто заходит на мой дневник.
Спасибо 2010 за Шанхай, за Рюи, за многих новых хороших людей, таких, как, например, why so Sirius, Lesolitaire? ХД
Люблю вас всех. Щастья!!!! )

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В цитатник ))))

"Дорогой Санта, я­ хочу на Рождест­во твой список мальчик­ов, которые­ плохо себя вели"