Chapter Two

Um...Hi? Yeah I have no description. -shot and bricked-

Des.

She wakes up in a bed much too soft to be hers.

It takes her a moment, even after seeing the black and pink walls, to recognize just where she is exactly.

Cersie has always loved pink. Especially hot pink. Hence the pink walls. When she got older, it changed to black, so she threw some more paint on the walls, and got some new furniture. Black and pink is now her favorite combination, and is on almost everything she owns.

Des sits up and pushes the pink comforter off of herself. Being careful not to rouse Cersie, she slides out of bed.

She glances at the clock on her wall. It proclaims 5:18, which would explain why she's so tired. She can sleep through lunch or something. But if she's going to take a shower, she needs to do it soon. Cersie would be up in ten minutes or so, and want to get in, too.

Des shuffles her feet over to the black dresser in search of clothes before noticing one of the few not pink outfits laid out on the desk chair. She can't help but smile at her thoughtfulness.

Not intending to wait any longer, she walks to the bathroom to clean up.

By the time she's out of the shower and dressed, Cersie is up and about. She goes back to her room to retrieve her old Converse.

“Thanks for the clothes,” Des yawns, lacing the shoes up.

“Of course,” Cersie replies happily.

That has to be her only bad trait. No one should be this coherent in the morning.

“Uh...Do you happen to be a magician or something?”

“Not that you need to know,” she jokes. “Why?”

“I was hoping you could make my school stuff appear.”

“Sorry. I can't appearify anything yet.”

“Yet? As in you can soon?” Des asks hopefully.

“I wouldn't get your hopes up,” Cersie laughs.

“Want breakfast?”

“Are you cooking?”

“I can.”

“Then no.”

“No, no. Really. I can make eggs or something. You did let me stay here after all.”

“You all but live here. I have an entire box of your clothes somewhere around here. So letting you stay is never an issue. But last time you cooked, you set my house on fire.”

“...I said I was sorry,” Des mumbles halfheartedly.

“And I said you aren't allowed to cook. Just eat food that you don't need to use the oven for.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Des ventures down the steps as Cersie gets her stuff to go shower. She goes into the kitchen, and decides to raid the pantry.

The first thing she spots is cereal, so that's what she picks for breakfast. The real question was if there was any milk left. So she opens the fridge, and is more than surprised to see a half-gallon that wasn't past the expiration date.

She pulls it out and digs around the island counter's drawers for a spoon, and takes a bowl off of the drainer. She pours the milk and cereal into the bowl, and sits down at the bar.

Des looks over the vast array of bottled alcoholic drinks, out of boredom more than anything else; she doesn't drink.

Not that she hasn't had the opportunity to try it; Cersie's older brother is always more than happy to create different cocktails.

“Eying my personal collection?”

Des jumps, nearly spilling breakfast all over herself.

“D****t, Vic! Don't do that!”

He laughs and leans aback on the counter.

“Heh heh. What else am I supposed to do for fun this time of day?”

“I dunno, sleep?”

“I will, in a few. Just got back from my shift at the Night Owl. I'll catch some x's when you kiddies run off to school.”

“Who are you talking to---? Oh, you're back early!” Cersie exclaims, smiling.

“M<iss me little sis? Your friend sure di,” Vic grins taking is hair out of the pony tail, and leting his black locks hand freely around his tattooed shoulders.

“Stopping hitting on the poor girl,” Cersie scolds, getting out a carton of eggs from the fridge, and putting the milk from Des' cereal away.

“Poor girl? Chick's a littleAmazon---”

“Sorry, I meant boy. Des, you really should leave him alone He has enough fan girls to deal with already.”

Vic's grin drops to an expression of disbelief.

“You just---Oh Hell no. Oh no, no, no, no. Listen here, munchkin,” Vic says quickly. “Don't forget who does all the cooking. You wanna be stuck eating ramen and take out for the next week?”

“Don't forget who does the shopping, big bro,” Cersie counters, cracking two eggs into a frying pan.

Vic strokes his goatee thoughtfully. “Okay, okay. A'ight, I'll give it you kid.”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” she snickers.

“Tch. Just like mom, y'know that?”

Cersie pauses for a minute before going back to cooking. “How is she anyway? Heard from her yet?”

“Yeah, actually. Lots of wounded soldiers, and she's getting tired of dealing with them. Big sissies, y'know? But she won't be home for awhile. Sorry. I know you miss her.”

“Um, no,” she laughs. “That's you. All mom does is nag me about not being able to cook anything worthwhile.”

“But you love her.”

“I do. Oh, um, by the way...I'm gonna have to borrow your car if we're gonna get to school on time.

“Whatever. Try not to crash or something stupid like that, alright?”

“Don't worry, I'll be careful with your baby.”

“Better be. Have fun and get a good education!” Vic yells as Des and Cersie run out the door.

“Show me a school I can go to that doesn't manage to bring religion into everything, and I will!”

“Later kiddies!” Vic calls as the door slams shut.

Reviews

[master squiggles]

Oops, I didn't read this yet. ;____;

I enjoy Cersie's taste in colors. IT'S WONDERFUL. And I still like her name a lot, because it's cool and asfkajsf.

Oh lord "STOP HITTING ON THE POOR GIRL". That is perfection, pure perfection.

I also enjoy Vic. He's amusing.

Write moar :D

Pwease :D

AND YOU HAVE TO POST THE THING THAT I AM FORCING YOU TO POST. REMEMBER THAT.

[halflives]

Um, can I claim Vic? Please? "Stop hitting on the poor girl!". FOR GOD'S SAKE LET ME HAVE HIM.

I loved this. HOT PINK WALLS. GODDAMN. And their friendship djhdfds. this story is so much more amazing then my terrible review please forgive me.

ldfihdfhldf YOU MAKE ME WANT TO GO WRITE.

WRITE MORE OF THIS

NOW

OR I WILL

FIND

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU.