I'm Not That Perfect
Eleven; Babe
"Are you coming to the show tonight?" Adam asked, putting his shoes on.
I threw a pillow at him and opened one eye. "No, I'm not coming to the show tonight. I'm sick, you fucker."
"You ought to cheer up. Maybe watch some cartoons, eat some ice cream. I'll see you tonight." Adam said, grabbing his camera and leaving to get to the show.
I rolled over, deciding to take Adam's advice. I threw a hot pocket in the microwave and flicked to Tom and Jerry.
**
"Ave, wake up. I brought you your food." Austin shook my shoulder.
I blinked, sitting up. "I must have fallen asleep. You brought me food?"
"You asked me to, remember? I didn't get a chance to bring it to you before the show but we just got offstage so yeah." He explained.
"Oh. Thanks." I smiled, taking the box and sitting at the table.
Austin followed me. "I hear you're sick."
"Feel like shit, look like shit. It's been a shitty day." I nodded.
He shook his head. "You're pretty deluded."
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Almost midnight, I think." Austin said.
"And how was the show?"
"Sick. Texas shows are always sick. I think that everyone is so tired of listening to country music that it makes them even more excited for our shows, you know?" He said.
"Damn. I should've been there. Wait, we're in Texas?" I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Yes, Avery. We are in Houston. H-Town. Home of the purple sprite." He said slowly. "Home of Beyonce. Home of the biggest population of Zoroastrians outside of Iran. Home of-"
"I get the point." I rolled my eyes. "I'm not very observant."
"Clearly. You're an airhead." He teased.
"Fuck you, Austin. I was like, third in my class." I replied.
"Third from the bottom." He shot back.
"I hate you. You're the worst." I said.
"No you don't. You love me." Austin raised his eyebrows.
"Fine. I love you, Austin. I love you so much, you've got no idea." I said.
"That's better." He grinned smugly. "You're cranky. You ought to go back to bed."
"I fully intend to if you'd get the hell out."
He stood up and hugged me. "Feel better, babe."
Babe.
I threw a pillow at him and opened one eye. "No, I'm not coming to the show tonight. I'm sick, you fucker."
"You ought to cheer up. Maybe watch some cartoons, eat some ice cream. I'll see you tonight." Adam said, grabbing his camera and leaving to get to the show.
I rolled over, deciding to take Adam's advice. I threw a hot pocket in the microwave and flicked to Tom and Jerry.
**
"Ave, wake up. I brought you your food." Austin shook my shoulder.
I blinked, sitting up. "I must have fallen asleep. You brought me food?"
"You asked me to, remember? I didn't get a chance to bring it to you before the show but we just got offstage so yeah." He explained.
"Oh. Thanks." I smiled, taking the box and sitting at the table.
Austin followed me. "I hear you're sick."
"Feel like shit, look like shit. It's been a shitty day." I nodded.
He shook his head. "You're pretty deluded."
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Almost midnight, I think." Austin said.
"And how was the show?"
"Sick. Texas shows are always sick. I think that everyone is so tired of listening to country music that it makes them even more excited for our shows, you know?" He said.
"Damn. I should've been there. Wait, we're in Texas?" I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Yes, Avery. We are in Houston. H-Town. Home of the purple sprite." He said slowly. "Home of Beyonce. Home of the biggest population of Zoroastrians outside of Iran. Home of-"
"I get the point." I rolled my eyes. "I'm not very observant."
"Clearly. You're an airhead." He teased.
"Fuck you, Austin. I was like, third in my class." I replied.
"Third from the bottom." He shot back.
"I hate you. You're the worst." I said.
"No you don't. You love me." Austin raised his eyebrows.
"Fine. I love you, Austin. I love you so much, you've got no idea." I said.
"That's better." He grinned smugly. "You're cranky. You ought to go back to bed."
"I fully intend to if you'd get the hell out."
He stood up and hugged me. "Feel better, babe."
Babe.
THIS IS PERFECTION O.O
7/2/15