multi coloured dress

8

Today came by quicker than Harper had hoped, to say she were nervous were an understatement. She had spent the remainder of yesterday being stuffed and squeezed into Sawyer’s multi-coloured collection of dresses; hot, bothered, push and pulled Harper politely declined her help, and instead texted Christopher wondering if it were okay and appropriate to go casual on their date. Not wanting to hurt Sawyer’s feelings she promised her, that she could at least do her make-up and run a brush through her tangled hair.

Before leaving, Jackson also gave her the third degree, reminding her of her eleven PM curfew and if she happened to get herself into any trouble to phone him right away. He shook his head and chuckled watching her leave, they all were growing up – and he hated it.

By six PM the movie had run its course, all week the local theatre had shown an array of sci-fi films from the mediocre to the downright awful. Somewhere along those lines were the film both Harper and Christopher watched while sharing a large bucket of toffee popcorn, and sour gummy worms, he were kind enough to save all the green ones for Harper, which happened to be her favourites.

While leaving the theatre, the sky had begun to transcend from a pale, icy blue to a light cherry blossom pink. They were both hit with a wave of heat, when thrusting the exit doors open, Harper held onto Christopher’s arms as they bustled through the crowds of movie-goers. “That was pretty shit wasn’t it?” Christopher laughed, referring to the movie.

“I don’t know…” Harper teased, “I mean the special effects were truly ground breaking.”

“Yes truly!” Christopher bit back with as much sarcasm – the pair erupted into a chorus of laughter. “If aliens do decide to ever invade, we’ll at least know what not to do.” He added.

“Y’know… I was really nervous for tonight, but I’ve had… fun.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“No! I have, I promise! I just was a little surprised you asked me.” Harper smiled, her cheeks flushing like the colour of the sky. “Sawyer has been hitting on you all year.”

“But I don’t like Sawyer… not in that way anyway. I thought I always made it pretty obvious that I liked you.” Christopher said softly, placing his hand atop of Harper’s which were currently linked around his arm. This time she didn’t flinch when he had touched her, she embarrassingly remembered doing so, when he snaked his arm over her shoulder halfway through the movie. Instead, she found herself gazing up towards his face, admiring every feature. Christopher were sweet, genuine, kind and not to mention he shared many of Harper’s interests too. Yet, Harper still felt as though something were missing, she darted her stare away from Christopher’s muddy coloured eyes, which had flecks of gold dust in them. “Harper?” He asked quietly, the humour that had laced his voice prior, unravelled and he stared at her intensely.

“Yes?”

“Would you…? I just—”

“—Christopher? What is it?”

“Would you be interested in going to prom with me? It’s only around the corner, and there’s no one else I’d like to go with.” He asks, biting his bottom lip in anticipation, awaiting her answer.

“I-I… I would love to.” She grins, her cheeks burning once more, as Christopher’s face broke out into a huge smile. Leaning forward, he lightly brushed his lips against hers and once more Harper’s body froze like earlier. Her eyes had grew two times their size when Christopher pulled away, a frown smeared across his face.

“Sorry… did I do something wrong?”

“N-no.” She stutters, rubbing her thumb across her bottom lip. “You just surprised me…” She giggles, tilting her head to the left to hide her blush from him.

“Should we try it again?” He laughs, his eyes dancing from her eyes to her mouth, then back up again. Harper bit down on her bottom lip, she could feel her stomach somersaulting, and despite wanting to shake her head, she found herself nodding instead – in her mind he at least deserved a chance. Both teens leaned forward until their lips met, and Harper closed her eyes, this time, reciprocating their second kiss.

In The Kitchen At Parties

Thanks to everyone for their likes, reblogs and lovely comments on my previous ramblings; Ramblings

Here’s a gorgeous bunch of people that willingly volunteered for ficcy bombardment; i-dream-of-emus @myfinnnelsonpls ililypop mirandasmadeofstone kneekeyta tinakegg @dontneedamoralcompass annemarieted voodoomarie happyfrasers stinemarine ducky17 & mmfdfanfic As usual you can back out any time.   

Thanks to my fabulous Beta extraordinare nemo-miracle-grow for all your ficcy help.  And for being a total babe.

I know everyone is psyched out over S3 at the moment, but this little ficlet is based right back in S1. The idea came from the brilliant song by Jona Lewie; http://bitchy-broken.tumblr.com/post/117324603994/so-i-was-listening-to-this-song-earlier-and-it

Trigger Warning - Some unwanted touching.

In The Kitchen At Parties

The morning following the Oasis gig at Knebworth was quite possibly one of the most miserable days ever for Rae.  She arrived at the chippy to meet the gang knowing the lads would be discussing what an amazing night they had. And what did she do?  She sat in Chloe’s pink bedroom by herself feeling alone and defeated.

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Dona Onete, review: a gem of Brazilian music

Dona Onete is a gem of Brazilian music. At almost 80 she is not so good on her pins and was greeted with a huge cheer as she came to the stage in a wheelchair. Once she was seated centre-stage in a multi-coloured dress of tropical flowers and a stripey headband, there was no let-up in her energy.

The musician is from Belém in the Amazon delta of north-east Brazil and her music is nothing like the samba, bossanova, or tropicalia styles of Rio or Sao Paulo. It’s closer to calypso and other Caribbean sounds — mostly in two beats and very danceable.

She’s got a husky voice, giving a bite to her vocals as her arms and mischievous eyes incited the crowd to move.

Nell’s feels like an old-time American venue, with a dance floor close to the stage and tables higher up. Everyone who wasn’t dancing was filming on their phone.

Accompanying Dona Onete were five (mostly young) guys on sax, guitar, bass, drum kit and percussion. Dreadlocked sax player Daniel Serrao strode around in shades, sometimes serenading women dancing in the audience.

His long legato melodies nicely rode the choppy dance rhythms. It’s a shame that a jewel like Dona Onete wasn’t in one of London’s bigger venues, but it was great to see her up close in an intimate environment like this.

Nell’s Jazz and Blues, W14

The-don’t-know-if-rewrite-or-continue-BAH-HUMBUG - do tell me. 

Sticky.

He did not enjoy the sensation, the way his clothes stayed fixed to his body, whether they were poorly constructed loose cotton-blend or suffocating designer shirts.

Nothing seems to be able to breathe in this weather.  

He would not yield, bearing his suits with pride, ever so fading underneath the glaring hot sun that poked daggers at his skin. The fact that he turned more irritable than usual was to be expected, or weary or tired – only natural.

“No cases, until the heat wave is over!” bemoaned John on the comment section of his blog, with more swearing of course.

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