God, I Hate && MORNINGS ~open

[carter myles]

_xCARTER MYLES_x

Well I'm hating all of this
I'm hating all of this
All of this, all of this
...
Now I know why I felt like shit when I woke up this morning

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Thus far, it had not been a pleasant morning. Phone had begun chirping at the ungodly hour of nine thirty. Her father, wondering how she was doing. Voice not only hindered by the telltale sound of one sleeping, husky with just a hint of aggravated scratching, but also filled with the annoyed whining of one completely hung over. The plan had been to remain abed for many more hours. But, in his business man way, her father’s normal response to the very typical sound of daughter’s hung over words was to continue with unnecessary chatter until he was satisfied she was too awakened to hope to return to sleep. Mentally cursing the man as she stumbled about her flat, clothing was slowly gathered and tossed on, fingers raking through the mangled curls leftover from night before. Grumbling to self, first thought after the many painful ways beloved father could die or wind up in a coma was of breakfast. Carter did not, under any circumstances, cook. Ignoring the car parked at very odd angle, legs carried her down the street, in the direction of usual morning first stop – Starbucks.
She was known by name and drink there. Usually, by the time she reached the front of the line, drink was prepared and all that was left was request for food, which varied from day to day. This morning, the line only held four people when she walked in, and she caught the barista noticing her. He nodded, turning to another barista, who went off to begin making Mylie’s drink. Carter was always treated well at her local Starbucks – they knew how well she tipped. The line dwindled before her, growing larger behind as she made her way to the front. Upon reaching, favorite Starbucks beverage was placed on the counter (Grande, 2 pump Vanilla, Non-Fat, Extra Hot, Latte) and she quietly asked for a muffin. Upon paying, she made her way over to the couch in the corner, curling up with breakfast placed on the table, she took a relaxing breath.
Hand dipped into pocket of coat just as Blackberry rang, trilling far too loudly as far as she was concerned. Sighing, fingers withdrew work phone from belt clip, clicking the answer button as green eyes skimmed the caller ID just before phone reached her ear, “Cam Isles Designs.” If she had known what the conversation was about to hold, she never would have answered the phone …
“Cam!” The masculine voice was excited, and not in a way that pleased her. As hand withdrew from pocket, it began expertly unscrewing the cap from Bailey’s Nip. Phone cradled between ear and shoulder, other hand popped the lid of latte, near boiling liquid swallowing the liquor. For the first time that morning, she smiled, “I’m just calling about the table…”
“I was planning on calling you later, Michael. It’s come in.” Replacing the lid, she gently shook the coffee in circles, dispersing the liquor throughout the sweet goodness of vanilla latte. Desperate for that first scalding sip, she prayed this would be a quick conversation. His response was completely unexpected, “No, no. Send it back.”
Entire form froze. It was far too early for this, “Do what now?”
“Cam, I have found the most amazing table. It was in this magazine I got this month… Absolutely gorgeous, Cam! Mahogany with scroll work all along the edges, and -”
“The table you ordered is mahogany with scroll work, Michael.”
“Yes, but you’ve got to see this one. You don’t understand -”
“No.” Frustrations rose far beyond what hung over mind was capable of handling so early in the morning. This one home had caused more drama than the last five put together. Many evenings she’d been ready to pull hair out of her head. About the table in question, she had received 40 plus calls. In the span of one fucking month. And now he wanted to change his mind?? “No, you don’t understand, Michael. You have been bugging me about this table for a month, calling everyday, demanding it get here sooner. Just last week you complained about getting your home back in order and how it was taking far too long to complete. And now you want to change the centerpiece? No. Not gonna happen. You have to understand, Michael, that you either take this table that has finally arrived to your exact specifications, or I beat you over the head with it.” Anger colored the Irish lass’s words, hands shaking with the violence she wanted to commit. Voice had risen, and she was becoming the center of attention. But, at that moment, she just did not care.
There was silence on the other end of the line, silence that trailed for what felt like minutes. When voice finally dared to reply, it was demure, “You’re … you’re right, Cam. I’ll be much happier with the original table…”
Not even bothering with any form of goodbye, line was disconnected, Blackberry tossed onto the table. Gluttonous inhaling from cup spread fire down chest into belly, searing liquid helping to calm the volcanic rage still threatening to explode. Cheerful melody played from purse and Juicy Couture Sidekick II was pulled out. Upon opening, ridiculous chain text appeared on screen. The joke actually made her smile, however, in the wow-that-was-so-stupid kinda way. At least the boiling rage was broken for the moment. Fingers flew as she texted back what perfect timing her friend had.
Feeling back to normal, or as much as possible with hang over pounding in her brain, she calmly began breaking apart the muffin to enjoy her breakfast.

NOTES[/color]
Tag: Anyone
Words: 935
Other: outfit

[lukas sheridan]

As the small rays of light filtering through the window’s curtain and exposing the human figure lying in the double sized bed, the human’s eyelids slowly opened. Brown eyes gazed and watched as dust particles danced in the light like ballerinas performing on stage. No sound had disturbed the sleep of Lukas Sheridan; instead, his body had just finally had enough rest. Lukas turned his body to the right so that he could gaze at the small clock on the night table.
The clock read nine. It was rare occasion that Lukas got to sleep in. The demand of his occupation allowed minimal amounts of sleep and sometimes, no sleep at all. Lukas reached past the clock for his cell phone. Stumbling around a few seconds, his fingers finally reached their desired prize. Grasping the item and bringing it into line of sight, Lukas changed the volume from silent to audible and checking to see if anyone called or texted. His sister had called and left a voicemail. He would call her later and he knew what the message probably said.
The sheet and comforter fell off his upper torso as he raised his body to a seated position. Stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, Lukas brought his hands to his face. He was not extremely tired, just a natural reaction to waking up. Throwing the rest of the bed coverings off of his body, Lukas exited the bed. Walking to the few steps down the hall towards kitchen searching for food, Lukas sighed as he opened the refrigerator. It was empty – just another hazard to his job. Lukas walked out of the kitchen and towards the living room. His bags still on the living room floor where he had left them the night before; Lukas needed food first, he could and would unpack his things later.
Having just returned to London from a trip to Haiti late last night at three o’clock in the morning, Lukas dropped his bags, showered and went to sleep. Lukas spent the last month down in Port Au Prince, Haiti and the surrounding areas taking photos for BBC, his employer, and a few photos for his personal portfolio. Lukas had a history and a connection with Haiti, a connection he was proud to have. Lukas had wanted to stay in Haiti for a longer period of time, but the higher ups had said “No.” Lukas badly wanted to go back on a humanitarian aspect, but he helped out a few times while he was down there. But he felt he could do more, he wanted desperately to do more than just take photos.
***
Lukas stepped outside into the sun, a rarity for London. Lukas was dressed in blue jeans and a grey graphic t-shirt and tennis shoes with his black backpack strapped to his shoulders. Lukas hardly ever left home without his backpack. He had only been living in London again for about six months, having transferred closer to home when he accepted a job with BBC. This six month stretch did not include the previous month in Haiti.
As he walked down the block towards his morning destination: Starbucks. Lukas arrived five minutes later. Holding the door for the couple exiting, Lukas smiled, thinking to himself that he could not be with someone for a long period of time. That was a fact that upset his mother deeply. She felt that at twenty-four, one should have settled down by now, but she was also a proponent of the idea that love takes time. And Lukas followed the latter attitude: when he had time for a relationship he would invest in one. Right now, Lukas was content with his unhindered relationships.
The line was not too long, only six or seven customers in front of him. As the line dwindled, Lukas looked around. He saw a familiar face talking on the phone. Carter, his neighbor and occasional lover, sat talking vehemently on the phone. Lukas was not able to hear the conversation, but he could see her emotions play across her face. He smiled and continued to progress towards the baristas. Finally able to order, Lukas ordered his usual, a venti caramel macchiato with two extra shots of espresso and a blueberry muffin.
After receiving his purchase, Lukas smiled and thanked the barista. Turning towards the lounge area, Lukas trekked towards Carter. He arrived at her table as she began to dive into the muffin that stood in front of her. “Hey there stranger,”

Lukas said with a smile as he sat down. He knew that she would not care that he sat down at her table. “How are you?”

[/color] He asked her as he sat his backpack down on the floor next to his foot. It had been a while since the two had last seen each other. Lukas would have notified her of his return, but two factors were in play: he did not know he was coming home until that day and it was a really late flight, and Lukas figured he would see Carter soon enough. As Lukas waited for Carter’s reply, he began to drink his macchiato and tear of pieces of his muffin.
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Word count: eight sixty-six

[carter myles]

_xCARTER MYLES_x

Well I'm hating all of this
I'm hating all of this
All of this, all of this
...
Now I know why I felt like shit when I woke up this morning

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Eyes dug into muffin before fingers ever reached it. Hunger previously abated with rage now completely encompassed empty stomach full force. Growling impatiently, first morsel could not be offered fast enough. First bite was bliss, pure heaven to one so hung over that brain seemed to grow within unyielding skull without mercy. Pain had moved from throbbing to explosions behind eyes who's color could never be fully explained. Shifts from blue to gray to green, depending on the day, brought comments from strangers on optics with haunting quality. The trauma of her past could never be removed the windows to her soul. Then again, Carter didn't really believe she had much of soul anymore. It died with Niamh.

Second piece of muffin was brought to lips as familiar voice reached ears. Eyes that shared a hint of blue within the mostly gray flicked up to see a face they hadn't seen in quite some time. He sat across from her, continuing to speak as she chewed. Mouthful of scalding coffee was poured down throat before vocals dared reply, "I'd say stranger is right. I haven't seen you in a while." Lips pursed into sultry pout, caffeine streamlining to brain to incrementally downgrade hangover. Flirtation was not something that could be shut off around Lukas. He was the favored of her lovers, not only for his prowess in the bedroom, but because he lived right next door. Her one rule when it came to sex, man or woman, was no sleepovers. There were a few times she very nearly had to literally kick someone out the door. Or pull clinging fingers from her arms as she tried to leave. Cam slept in her own bed, alone, period. Lukas accepted this without question, and it never seemed to matter. No matter the amount of alcohol imbibed, it wasn't a danger for either to trek home post coitus.

Ignoring his question completely, she inquired of her own, "Where have you been? I was starting to think you'd gone and found yourself a little woman." Frown was teasing, eyes boring into him with full wattage of the sexiness she knew she had, "Do you have any idea how many small-dicked losers I had to drag home in your absence?" This wasn't a total lie. The new men she'd found to accompany her had all been losers, yes - some even becoming cuddly and clingy when all she wanted was for them to leave - but not all of them had been small in the pants. And then, of course, there were the women she'd entertained. Sometimes girls were easier than guys when it came to one night stands. Those who believed it would be the beginning of a "beautiful relationship" was not a trait of just one gender, however. Lukas was also her favorite because he never wanted anything more. He knew where they stood, and never wanted it to change. There were no complications with him, and there were times that the thought of nightclubbing and bar hopping to find someone to bed her was just exhausting. It was nice living next to someone with whom there were no strings.


It was also comforting that he never pressed for details. They were occasional lovers, but that didn’t make them best friends. The two shared the minor details of day to day life, told stories of work, regaled each other with amusing tales of past and present. But there was no real connection, no hours long conversation that revealed inner workings. Lukas was easy, he was comfortable. God, he was like curling up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate to your favorite movie. There was no danger of hurt feelings, or any feelings for that matter. No fear that he would discover something about her that she’d kept hidden for years. He knew nothing real about her, and she liked it that way.

Niamh would hate him...

NOTES[/color]
Tag: Lukas
Words: 663
Other: outfit
I know I took a bit of liberty with their relationship. I hope you don't mind.

[lukas sheridan]

Lukas smiled at Carter. She was gorgeous, and she knew it. Frowning, Lukas listened to Carter speak of his lack of existence in London. He had left her a note telling her where he was going and he had called her on his way out of town. He was curious to know how it could have not gotten to her. “I have been working, out of town.”

Lukas said in reply to her question.

“Did you not get the note I left taped on your door? In it I wrote that I was going to Port Au Prince, Haiti for a while to document the earthquake and the recovery effort.”

[/color] Lukas said. Truth be told, he had volunteered for the job. He almost begged for the spot on the plane, but luckily his boss, Claudia Brown, knew that Lukas had been to Haiti before, so he could speak the language, maneuver around the crowds. Lukas had presented his case to Claudia, and he added the fact that he was a damn good photographer. Claudia consented to his request and Lukas left the next day.

“I also left a message on your voicemail. Did you not get either of those?” [/color] Lukas asked, he was very curious to know what had happened to have the communication mix-up. “Besides, if I found a little woman to satisfy me, you would have been the first to know. No one compares to you.” [/color] He said this last bit truthfully. His relationship with Carter was perfect in his eyes. Others might construe it as a bad relationship with the lack of commitment. But in truth, both of them are committed – they are committed to the idea of a single life with a casual sex life. Their relationship was easy and comfortable. In his eyes, other relationships were not easy because you always expect more out of yourself and your partner. Carter and Lukas expected very little out of each other so there was little to no disappointment. And nine times out of ten there was no disappointment on either party’s side.

Lukas grinned sheepishly when Carter commented on her lack of adequate lovers. “I am sorry,” [/color] he said with a small chuckle. “I missed you too.” [/color] He continued with a smile. “I would have to guess that you dragged home at least ten while I was away and dare I say that none of them compared to me.” [/color] Lukas said with a false bravado. This was another reason he was comfortable with Carter, she spoke her mind.

"How has your life been in the past month? Besides filled with impotent lovers?"[/color] He asked with a sheepish grin. "I caught the last bit of your conversation on the phone. It sounds like business is doing well."[/color] Lukas looked at Carter and smiled. Grabbing a piece of his food, he placed it in his mouth and chewed.

“So how much would you hate me if I said that I got you a gift?” [/color] Lukas asked as he sipped some of his coffee waiting for her response. He hoped she would not be overly upset and that she would accept it. The gift was a sign of his friendship, nothing more. He bought the gift with Carter in mind, but if she did not like it, he could find some other use for it. He was going to wait for her response before he showed it to her, unless she asked to see it first.
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