If I Had the Chance!
~From the sound of a screaming alarm clock does this scene begin. Arnold rustles and turns from left to right with a rather disgusting grin on his face. The slobber races down his mouth and pools upon his body pillow, rewetting that single left corner. The alarm interrupts his snores as he begins to scowl.~
~Staring at him, one would realize a certain disappointment he holds. He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes to get rid of that blur, but even after that he still glares. His eyes cold and the left side of his lips wet with drool; he undoubtedly views waking up as some sort of chore. There is visibly no joy on his face as he stares around the dimly lit room. He can only see the outlines of himself and his bedside table as the light leaks in from that small crack in the curtain.~
~Despite the sun being out, he does not reach for the curtains. Not to close in rebellion or to open in acceptance. With a lethargic middle ground, he reaches towards the small lamp on the desk. He gives the small knob a twist and there he is given light.~
~Only a small radius is brightly visible while the rest is still obscured, but with this new shining he seems to be more awake. Alive even. His glare, for a few second turns, softer as his morning dread is washed away. He stares towards something that is more proactive of joyful feelings. He stares at her; Barbara Ravenfeather~
~Black hair with purple highlights, smooth and hanging just above her shoulders. The bangs that cover her forehead still reveal glimpses of her fair skin. A few small locks lay over her glasses that only brighten her amethyst eyes. While previously lethargic, he stares into those eyes for a bit longer and as if they were a shot of expresso he becomes charged and prepared for the day.~
~Well, almost prepared.~
~He continues to admire Barbara. While it cannot truly be expressed through the medium of a body pillow, the character is of a certain beauty pass just the features described before. He holds the pillow with both of his hands and just stares with a gentle joy. The pillow is of the standard size but in terms of her source material she stands probably at around 5'6".~
~Her clothing would not be called anything but unordinary in our world, well that and aesthetic. But this was for rather simple reasons. I mean, it is not everyday that you were to be dressed as some sort of arcanist.~
~Clothed in a dark lolita dress, Barbara seems like quite the contemporary character. Unnatural hair colors in our world and the less than practical overly sized witch's hat, she stares flustered back at Arnold.~
~But in the end that is nothing more than an image printed upon this polyester pillow sheet. The stare that she gives back towards him does not derive from any form of intimacy, just from purpose. It was meant to stare back for those lonely deviants who participate in these hobbies and therefore did. Arnold let's go as the grin once again disappears.~
~He prepares for the day before him~
~He probably thinks something like this:
I never found myself to be a morning person. The toothpaste does wake me up a bit with its minty spike, but even that has become expected. There is a certain boredom that has just came with age that I do not understand. I mean, as you get older, are we not just trying to escape from the troubles that we are now able to understand? Or at least we have begun to understand...
The latter would probably be more accurate in all honesty; I am not 100% sure on whether or not I actually truly understand my issue. And this issue, it isn't simply something that I could just ask a doctor about. Maybe a therapist could work, but that honestly sounds like too much worth and too embarrassing at the same time.
I would understand going to a therapist if I were simply depressed or was faced with some sort of condition that I found to hinder my life, but this challenge before me is something that I can accept. After all, there is little reason for me to actually feel ashamed of being in love.
Yes, I Arnold Briggs have been in love—in love for the last 6 years.
At first hearing I can assume different opinions that you have of me already.
1) "Awe isn't that sweet, you have been faithful for that long while being so young. Aren't you just a doll? How long have you two known each other?"
2) "What are you, some kind of creep? Wimp? What is it? It kind of sounds like she doesn't like you back so what the hell bro?"
3) "You are kind of phrasing this in a weird way so I am not sure on what to think about this... Like is this affection bad or some—"
Yeah, something like that. People would definitely think things like that. I mean, what are they to think when you talk about long term affection? It either is sweet or creepy. Typically depending on the girl in question and how much prettier she is in relevance to the guy. Similar looks or guy is hotter? Sweet. Girl is hotter? Creep.
I feel like some incel thinking like that.
~He looks in the mirror with that familiar disdain. Even at his own reflection, he seems to not hold nearly as much care towards himself than he does in comparison to that girl on the pillow. He goes to put down his toothbrush and rinse his mouth.~
It isn't like I can really control who I like. Love doesn't work like that. Sometimes we like someone who is cruel. Lives far away. Your brother's wife. That last one is bit more wrong though..
But still, the idea that their is any sort of ill glares towards those who simply follow their passions and affections is just down right preposterous. A land of freedom and of pricks. If it isn't illegal nor hurting anyone, what is the issue with me having my feelings.
It isn't like she is real!
~He stares down with a glare that is easier to empathize with, not the one that he aims at his normal life. This was a despairful glare; the glare of a person who has lost hope. And who wouldn't lose hope? I mean, imagine loving someone for all these years and it is to go unrequited. We all know that sucks. So imagine it if were impossible to have these feelings reciprocated.~
~Placed on the burner, left to boil and boil until the pan begins to burn as well. These feelings, all feelings, are not meant to be tucked away and hidden. And when the world seem so bright around her, it is obvious that the rest of it seems dark in comparison.~
~A truly tragic case.~
"Oy, you leaving already?", goes a call from down the hall between that bathroom and my room.
I turn towards the familiar voice and bark at them slightly, "I have class to go to River and you probably do as well!"
"I don't probably have class, I do have class. I just have something better to do!"
I roll my eyes preemptively as I can foresee them saying something stupid soon. "What is more important than your classes this time?"
"Don't get me wrong but I have an appointment of the utmost importance. They scheduled again for today so I won't make it to art."
I begin to walk away in order to not entertain their joke, but they tell the punchline despite the increasing distance. I can already tell you now that it is going to be something about having an appointment with their bed.
"You see Arnold, my pillows have been sooooooo needy recently and they need my advice. As a caring friend, I must intervene with their struggles and do my—", he interrupts themselves with a laugh but begin again with a breath and a sigh. "But no seriously I am going to get up soon so can you get the coffee maker going?"
I do not respond. I don't want to entertain their poor behavior.
But I am not cruel.
I am simply misunderstood. And people would understand this if only—.
~As Arnold heads out for a most odd day, he already shows some sort of humanity before his leaving. Already out the door before the request was fully given, Arnold was aware of River's cravings.~
~Slothfully exiting their room with an odd grace, the beautiful River emerges. Their skin is fair and their in a rather appealing set of bangs. Pretty like a girl, but very much a guy, River smiles as they find that coffee maker is preparing an extra cup if they need more. An extra cup because sitting out their is a mug of joe with cream and two cubes of sugar on the side. Sweet enough to forget some of the bitter, but bitter enough to compliment the sweet.~
"He is very distant, but there is a certain thing about my roomie", I call out to an empty audience. "But despite that despairful glare, he always seem to have such a caring hand"
I bring the mug to my hand around the mug and take a deep sip after quickly dropping the two cubes. I know that your day seems to be bitter, but I wonder if you will find that sweetness sometimes. You will definitely see that the world isn't as bad. If only you had the—.
~Fate is rather strange, and you never know what might be coming your way. But it becomes so much more exciting if you are given the—