Post by jaxon.ace.raegan on Nov 26, 2011 18:06:13 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 600px; background-image: url(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lnhez5wAI31qhpe9eo1_500.png); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius:100px 100px 100px 100px; border: 3px solid #ffffff;] through your fear and sorrow it was six am in the morning... why on earth was jax awake? well, the easy answer was that he couldn't sleep. the harder, more defined answer was that he hadn't had a wink of sleep all night, and this seemed like the best place to go this morning. an explanation of that answer? he'd gotten his letter the night before. jaxon was certain that any student, or adult, who had ever been matched to 'their future love' would understand how he had felt about the little tap-tap-tap at his window and the snowy owl sitting on the ledge, clutching a pink envelope in its beak. what sane person would be able to sleep peacefully after that occurance? jax didn't yet know the name of the girl cupid had hand picked out for him. the pink envelope was clutched in his left hand as he stroked one of the school's barn owls right his right. he was sitting on the inside ledge of a window, overlooking the dark sky outside, trying to guess exactly how long it would take for the glow of pink to spread across the horizon. it was kind of amazing, sometimes, the lengths he would go to to avoid thinking of a certain topic. jax was only sixteen. he'd never even had a serious girlfriend. he had years of dating and heartbreak and crushes and girls left within him before he wanted to even begin to think about settling down with any one in particular. perhaps it was childish that he felt that, if he didn't read the letter and the name of the girl he was destined to marry, he wouldn't have to... it was a foolish child's hope, but he clung to it like a baby clung to their baby blanket. he didn't want to have a permanent girlfriend, especially one that he likely would never have met before in his life. sighing, jax stuck the pink letter into the front pocket of his jeans, stuffing it in as much as he could, leaving just a bit of the pink tip poking out. from his other pocket he pulled a small notebook and a pen, something he always carried with him for when he was in need of someone to talk to, aka his father. the man was always good on advice, and right now jax thought he might need it more than ever before, so he let the owl fly back to its roost and tucked his knees up on the ledge, starting to write a letter he'd hoped he wouldn't have to write for a long time. there can be only one mikey! of caution 2.0 |
