Lazy Sunday Picture

This is an old idea from goodness-knows how long ago. Just decided to chipper it up today.

I like how I did the bed, but that's about all. Sorry about the bleak walls. I am an extremely unimaginative person, after all.

Her name's Violet, or Vivi for short. She's an old character of mine from a really old plot with Grecian gods and whatnot (this the grapes and mythology book). The story was called Eternal Strings. Throughout the years her hair color has changed from black to honey brown and finally red. I think red fits her the best, aye?

Except from Eternal Strings:

For the rest of the week, I gladly had my car back. Aiden, for the remainder of the days, went off to play with his hooker while Viggo forced himself to sit with us, an expression of contempt stretched across his grim face. Sometimes he would even a scowl. Tessa and Doug ditched us on Wednesday when they couldn’t stand any more of his mad rants to Aiden. So I was left with him Thursday, which --- I must admit --- was not the most pleasant place in the world to be, when I asked him why he was so bent out of shape over Aiden.

We were in the car, I remember, right after school.

“Because he’s just trying to get that freaking girl to love him.” He didn’t say ‘freaking’ though. “He’s not even looking.”

That was not true. For as long as I knew Aiden, he’d been going through girl after girl. Why? I had no earthly clue. You’d think he could take a breather once in a while with all the ditzy blondes he put up with. “Well, he’s doing a lot better in the girl department than you, I hate to say.”

“Right, yeah. He goes out with every girl who asks him . . . that’s not the way --- and he knows it! And abandoning us in the parking lot is such a wonderful way of showing he cares!”

I rolled my eyes. “Why does it matter? Love is supposed to be a problem for girls, not guys.”

Viggo snorted. “Well, sometimes circumstances change that.”

“Then why aren’t you garfing down every girl you come across?”

“Just because I’m looking for a girl doesn’t mean I have to go about it the way Ap---Aiden does.”

I scoffed at that. Really, if you don’t go about it the way Aiden does, is there really another way? For guys, I mean. I’m just waiting, but then again, I’m a girl who wants to be swept off her feet --- which, in all regards, wasn't likely to happen. “I bet you don’t have what Aiden has to offer, so that’s why you don’t go about it like he does.”

Oh, he was offended then. “And what, my dear girl, does that --- that light-bulb have that I don’t?”

“Well,” I thought, “he‘s popular, nice-looking, somewhat bright, cool, suave, a good kisser I‘ve heard, pretty, has a nice fashion sense, and has gone out with most of the girls at this school.”

Viggo rolled his eyes. “You women are all the same, you know that?”

“I try not to be.”

“But you are. Every single aching one of you.” Then he began to mock me in a stupidly high falsetto. “He’s popular, nice-looking, smart, cool --- Oh he’s so-o-o suave! Oh-My-God! Aiden is a complete sex god!” After he managed to turn me a rose-red from embarrassment and noticed, his mockery suddenly dropped. “Listen,” he said in his normal, light baritone, “if kissing is something that makes a guy so ‘cool’ then . . .”

And he kissed me.

On the lips.

Forgive me for the horrible grammer, the horrendous writing, and my hopelessly romantic muse who keeps popping up . . .

Ah, well, you can probably guess who is what Grecian god. From Viggo and Aiden, anywho.

Vivi, Aiden, Viggo, Tessa, Doug (c) Pash-can
Violet (c) Pash-can

Don't we all love Lazy Sundays?
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