just another word - amelie !

[warren johannes adler]

Ren sighed apathetically, running a hand through his glossy brown locks. He didn’t usually do anything abnormal.. They just were that way and apparently it was part of his charm. The charm that he’d been lacking lately.. Ever since the ordeal with Cecily, he’d been unable to put the bottle down long enough to focus on the good stuff in life.. However few and far between that may have been. As a result, here he was, cooped up in a hotel room with one of his best girl friends and not doing anything with her, fumbling with the tumblers in the door lock, bottle in one hand and other fingers twitching against the cold metal of the door handle.

She’d promised to have a drink with him, so he really shouldn’t be worried about her taking away his bottle, but sometimes things didn’t happen the way they were supposed to. Wasn’t that what got him in this mess to begin with? Of course, he was being irrational and stupid, because that was all six months ago, but since then Cecily had been off on her honeymoon doing whatever it was she wanted and he’d been trying to get back into the swing of things… and somehow that had ended up with him nursing the bottle every five minutes like his veins might run dry if he didn’t, and staying cooped up in the room since then.

Pushing open the door, he looked down at the brunette beauty in front of him, a slightly drunken smile on his features.

Him and Amelie had been together since they were both in diapers.. They were two peas in a pod, so it only made sense that she’d be over to help him out when he needed it. And did he ever need help. The light of day had only been viewed through the windows for the last two weeks, it was like he didn’t even need to go outside to breathe, and he didn’t lie, Yolanda had forced him to get up this morning to change the sheets. A slight smirk edged it’s way over his lips as he pulled the door open, waited for her to come in and then hugged her, stumbling a little as he wrapped his arms around her thin frame. “I missed you, Ame..” he murmured, kissing her cheek in a gentlemanly manner and then chasing it with a swallow of alcohol from whatever bottle he’d picked up most recently. The boy wasn’t picky, it was what was in the liquor cabinet.. That was why he liked the plaza.. They could have anything you needed to your door in less than fifteen minutes.

Unless you needed Amelie. She came of her own accord, and she made soup! Soup was yummy… “So I was thinking..” he started, crossing the room and making it to the bench at the end of the bed without falling, a smile taking place. It was quickly followed with a frown, his brows scrunching together. “I don‘t remember.. Do you have anything I can smoke?” he questioned, changing his train of thought completely in like five seconds.. Usually he was harebrained, but it was never this bad.

NOTES; templates are dumb..
i'm too lazy for them..
COUNT; 535

[/blockquote]

[amelie isabelle deveraux]

[/b] It was completely true. He always knew how to make her sour face turn into a smile, and he was always had something flattering to say. Warren Adler was a huge boost to the ego. Setting the bottle on the counter, she set her purse down, slowly taking off her gloves, one finger at a time.

He looked awful, horrid, the list could go on and on and on. The bed was clean and made like he said the maid had forced him to, but clothes were on the ground, shoes, slacks, belts, the works it was scattered all over the place, bottles lined the counters, and it made her sick. Torn between wanted to punch the shit out of him and pet his head, she moved her eyebrows together, and sighed. "No I don't have anything to smoke. I don't smoke, remember. I'm the coke fiend." She smiled and laughed a little.

Walking over to him, she took off her jacket, tossing it on his bed, completely comfortable around him. "Ren, what the hell?" She sat next to him, looking at him. It was an open question, but she was sure that he understood, even in his hungover-semi-drunk state. "And what were you thinking, hmm...." She grabbed the asprin that she had taken out of her purse, and opened his hand to place them in his palm.[/ul]

Notes: dreadful, but i have a headache, and yeah.
word count: 523

[warren johannes adler]

Things with Amelie had always been a constant. It was so nice to b able to go to someone and know that no matter what, their friendship would remain and their adoration for each other would be in place. He could probably say anything to her, forget her at the airport even, and things would be all right. They'd been together since they were born and that wasn't going to change any time soon if he had his way. He needed her.. she was his support pillar at the moment. A small chuckle echoed out of his throat at the thought... and then another childish giggle as he realized he'd just laughed at nothing. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he didn't usually act like a broken record. He felt like his father at the moment.. drunk and whining about a lost love, but he couldn't help it.. he was a mess and frankly, even he knew he needed help to get out of it. As far as manliness went, he wasn't so worried about that because other, more important topics were at hand and he couldn't be concerned.

Running a hand through his hair, he looked over to her and closed his eyes for a second, laying back on the covers of the comfortable, super pillow top mattress that he'd requested. No answer was coming to mind, even though he knew what she was asking. It was implied, if nothing else. A light shrug rolled off of his shoulders, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he shifted to his side, looking at her.

He really was lucky that most old money families had attractive off spring, otherwise things for him would really suck and he could be stuck with someone ugly. Charlotte wasn't ugly, but he really wasn't ready for that kind of thing yet and that was why he ran away.. even if he did want it to work with every little piece of him, and then the whole Cecily getting married thing.. it broke his heart, truly, because she was supposed to be his. She promised with everything in her that she would never belong to anyone else. He came back from his five week hiatus on life, and she was married.. had been for a year now. Confusion had swept across him and immediately he realized how changed he was.. everyone was no longer sexually appealing. Standards had kicked into overdrive and he didn't think he'd ever really get over her.

It was so unlike him that he'd been forced to drink it away, but that had just made him goofy... and here he was. The girl last night had tried to coax him out, but they ended up drinking together until he passed out and in the morning when he woke up, she was already gone.

Folding his hands over his stomach, he grinned at her for a moment before sighing contentedly. “You know.. I like New York.” he stated, german accent thick over his words and smirk on his features, a ghost of his old self. “They don't card you. Everyone comes here eventually. Everyone gets drunk here. I'm drunk here. You're here. There's a lot of good reasons..”

He was so stupid when he was drunk, he could almost feel the dumb words rolling through his body before he said them, but he couldn't help it.. it was just like every time he wanted to say something it came out no matter what it was. “I could really go for a cigarette now.. do you think they'd bring them up here?” he questioned, not really in the mood to travel downstairs and pick up a pack from the store downstairs. It was overpriced, but what the fuck did he care? Obviously he had other things to deal with then expensive smokes.

NOTES; it wasn't horrible D;
if that's your worst, bring it on >3
i've had like.. oh god don't even get
me started on bad posts xD
COUNT; 659

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[amelie isabelle deveraux]

[/i] that's all that was playing in her head like a sound track that was stuck on repeat or something horrible like that. The more she let her mind drift and wonder the more she got angry, and anger would do no good at this point. She had to be strong, and kind, and caring, and all that stuff that people needed when they were super depressed and drunk off their asses. She watched him move, laying on the bed, running a hand through his hair, and he looked just as average and normal as could be. He wasn't the normal ren-self, it was like a shell, like one of those books that looked like a book, but was all empty on the inside.

She watched his movements and heard his words, and without really realizing it, she let her false face down. Running a hand through her dark locks, she let out a deep sigh, and laid back on the bed once he was finished talking. She stretched her arms abover her head on the bed, and looked up at the ceiling. Speaking she turned her head to look at him. "I'm sure they will bring something up for you, or I could go down and get something, although in these heels, who knows how long it will take." She smiled and lifting a foot looked down at her pricey Chanel heels.

She set her foot down, and moved so that she was on her side, facing him. His father was right, he needed a haircut and a shower for that matter. Closing her eyes, she sat for a moment, not moving, or talking she being there. She didn't know what to do next or how to act or what to say. Opening her brown, she caught him staring at her, and looked to the bed cover, turning so that she was now on her back, she began to talk, just talk. "You know I never did travel to New York before like five months ago, came for a visit, and just loved it. Couldn't get enough. I was like a kid in a candy store." She smiled to herself, remembering.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she remembered what it was like, one of her best memories of late. She was still again for a minute, and than laughed at how silly she was. Pushing him on the shoulder, she looked at him, and got up. "Come on, you promised me a drink, and i promised soup." She stood up, straighten her pencil skirt, and made her way off his bed into the little kitchen area. "You get me that drink." She pulled out a pot and poured some water, setting it on the stove and turning on the burner.

She began to work, humming to herself, waiting for her drink. He would have soup, she would make sure that he ate, and she would watch until he sobered up enough so that she could actually talk to him. Smiling up at him, she started cutting celery and stuff. She didn't know what else to do. So she was going to see how long she could make this work.

[/ul]

Notes: yeah, sorry it took so long.
word count: 587

[warren johannes adler]

Things lately for Ren had made him so out of it.. forced him into a spiral of drinking and sleeping that left to no room for anything else and no consideration for anyone either. He'd considered cutting off his ear-length locks because they go tin the way of the bottle, and had gone to the extent of sticking to darkness to keep people from seeing the side effects of such behaviors. He wasn't ashamed.. he should be, he knew, but he was having such a good time while it lasted that he couldn't quite find a reason to be upset with himself. When he drank, he forgot, and when he forgot he could be himself for five seconds instead of wondering how Cecily was doing or where she was... even if he did want to throw her off the roof.

Running a hand over his face, he nodded absently to what she was saying... Amelie had always been his friend, but in his current state he wanted to drink. More. Always more. And smoke. As of now, it sounded like a good idea to light up.. perhaps that would take the edge off of his sort of sobriety. Chuckling lightly at his thoughts, the boy reached over to the phone and requested that they be brought up, smirking at the clerk's easy acceptance of his request. It didn't seem like anything could go wrong in this hotel.. he liked it. Everything was done for you.. he didn't even have to go to get food, because obviously people would make it for him no matter what happened. Before Amelie had come there had been Yolanda.. before her had been the freakishly obsessive male that had cleaned his floors and windows... five days could accumulate a lot of dirtiness.

At her urging, Ren clambered to his feet and made his way across the large penthouse suite, his socked feet pushing comfortably through the thick, sinking persian carpets that covered the floor and his sweatpants dragging lightly behind him. He was comfortably attired, in nothing too special and yet he still someone managed to look like a bum.. a shower was in order the second he was sober enough to do it right. Opening the cabinets, he rummaged until he found the series of mini bottles he had lined up along the back and pulled one out, examining the label before pouring it into a glass with it's perfect counterpart and sending the glass her way. “It's amazing how well a job I'd do at bar-tending..” he grinned, whipping lip marks off a glass with a damp towel and smirking at her, a trace of his former personality budding through, considering his last drink had been when she'd first come in.. ten minutes ago. That was more sober then he'd been in five days total.

“So I was thinking of calling up Dat and asking him what he thinks about finding my own wife... but I don't know if that would go over too well with him... I'm so tired of this shit. I just kind of want to live a little, you know? It doesn't seem fair.” Of course she knew.. she was in the same boat as him, sighing, he sipped absently at the drink he'd prepared for himself and glanced towards the bathroom, eyebrow raised. “I'm gonna go take a quick shower,” he murmured, nodding and then scurrying off to be covered in the steam.

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged, his hair dripping and his expression cleaned of any dirtiness that had been marring it previously. A small smile played at the edges of his lips as he tugged aimlessly at the fabric of his pockets. Sidling over to the bar where she still assumably stood, he rested his palms against the marble counter top and offered her a thankful grin. “I really don't like Cecily. At all.” he stated, as if the words would make them more buyable. Everyone knew the truth.. everyone knew that she'd broken his heart. The one boy who would never be tamed was forever cracked by his female counterpart. “But enough about that... Did the cigarettes come? And how have you been?” he asked gingerly, running his hand over his hair once before picking up the glass he'd left and sipping out of it.

NOTES; ... my timing fails, i'm so sorry -.-;
COUNT; 742

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[amelie isabelle deveraux]

[/b] She was cutting chicken, and vegtables, and the noodles were in the water. He smiled, and her heart went warm...he was coming back, at least for a moment, he was coming back, and that was good. He began talking about his idea about going to his father to set up a marriage and all, and she shook her head.

Her first arranged marriage had fallen apart even before she could actually get engaged, it was dreadful, and she always wondered if she would get married, simply because it was such a hassle. "Yeah, I know what you mean. What do you think this whole, 'going to college' thing is about? Hm...." She laughed and took another long sip of her drink. She was terrified that she would never actually live, and than get stuck with some old, fat, friend of her father's or something really horrid like that, she would end up like her mother. Alone. That was one of her greatest fears. She didn't like talking about it, because she had to keep the face of a devereaux, always proper and prim and good hearted for anything.

As he talked about a shower, she nodded and kept humming to herself, she wasn't aware of it most times, and watched him, shuffle off in his sweats and socks. Smiling again, she finished off her drink and finished the soup, now all it needed was to simmer for a little bit and than it would be perfect. With nothing better to do, she walked around his penthouse, looking at the living room, admiring the furniture, and the art, and the carpets. When she opened a cabniet she found a stereo, and turned on music, it was the local pop station that played a little bit of everything, and it wasn't bad, but the silence in the empty penthouse was driving her nuts, so it would just have to do.

Finally taking off her shoes, she suddenly became a full four inches shorter, and laughing at herself out loud, she smiled, and made her way back to the kitchen. When ren walked back into the kitchen area, he would have seen her, humming to herself along with the music, standing on her tiptoes, searching for bowls in the cabniets. At first she didn't even hear him come back in, but as he talked she held in her surprise, and came back empty handed. She couldn't reach the bowls. "Well for the record i don't like her either."

Hands on hips, she looked up at the bowls, just out of reach. Smiling she turned to him. "Yes enough about the wiked bitch of the east. your smokes are sitting on the counter, and if you would be such a gentleman, and help a lady get the bowls out of the cabniet. I took my heels off and now i can't reach anything past the height of the counter." It was a joke of course. Amelie stood a fairly avergage height, short was not something to describe her.

She watched him move to grab the bowls, and as soon as they were on the counter, she poured soup, and set the bowl in front of him with a glass of water, and a spoon. Setting another bowl next to him, she moved around the corner, and set in a chair next to him. "Nothing has been going on with him. I went and took a visit to marco's place here in new york life five months ago, and i fell in love with the city, and decided to graduate early and go to school here. I've been just going along with the normal college life, i suppose, with fashion parties on the weekend and yeah...it's sort of boring, althoug i've always been a bit boring compared to like Charlotte." She smiled at him, and starting eating her food.

[/ul]

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