PAINT ME LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH GIRLS;;

[RAMONA CASSIDY]

( WHEN THE LIGHTS ARE DIM AND YOUR HEART )
IS R A C I N G AS YOUR FINGERS T O U C H HIS S K I N
I'VE GOT MORE WIT A BETTER KISS A HOTTER TOUCH A BETTER FUCK ♥
[ THAN ANY BOY YOU'LL EVER MEET, SWEETIE YOU HAD ME ]

Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored.

Ramona Cassidy was fucking bored, okay? Holden was out of the apartment, art-fagging around, and Jamie was busy with his girlfriend, which sucked. Nothing was on Television (800 Channels, and nothing to watch, what the fuck), her DVR was empty, she had seen all her movies, and she was annoyed with the idiots on XBox Live, and shit just sucked, man.

So what was a werewolf to do when there was nothing to do? Simple, she would just go running. It would have been strange that it had taken her so long to come to that conclusion, but she had already been running today. But, as there was nothing else to do, she would risk overworking her muscles. Rising from her lazy position on the couch, she stretched and headed off to her room to hunt for clothes. She was far too comfortable in her chilly apartment, wearing nothing but a black pair of underwear, but her body temperature was always warmer than usual, and she hated clothes. Who gave a fuck if it was January?

She didn't have much in the way of warm clothes, and while she could handle the chill of her apartment, the actual wind was pretty bitter. Still, she was going to be running, so she didn't think much on it. She simply tugged on a pair of slouchy basketball shorts she stole from Jamie, a hardly necessary sports bra, a striped black and white tank top, and her favorite jacket that she rescued from Jamie's house. The boy was determined to steal all her cool clothes, and he could NOT have this jacket. It was black, and clung to her frame nicely, even made her feel better about her lack of boobage, since it refused to close over her chest. Also, it said sniper on it. He couldn't have it, dammit.

As she was pulling the jacket on, happy to have it again however, she caught the scent of her alpha. That odd combination of the woods, and his cologne. It made her almost miss him. He was always so busy, either with Liam, or at his job, with his psychotic boss ordering him about. It was lame. It wasn't like she had many friends. It was Jamie and Holden, and Holden was usually busy with his secret girlfriend. Which by the way was fucking retarded. She would have assumed that he made her up, if his phone didn't go off all day, and he didn't come home smelling of oil paints and jasmine. Whatever, point was, Mona hadn't met her, and it was lame. Cause it would have been nice to have more than two friends.

Whatever, so she was lonely, don't make a thing about it.

Anyway, it was starting to get later on in the afternoon, and Ramona wanted to get going before it got too late and too cold to really run anywhere. Hooking her iPod headphones into her ears, and slipping her feet into a pair of worn down sneakers, she headed out the door not bothering to shut anything down. That TV generated a lot of heat, so she generally left it on all the time. Better than trying to rely on the shit heating system running through the building.

Searching for a song on her iPod, she wasn't exactly paying attention to her surroundings, but for a moment, her keen sense of smell picked up on something familiar as she passed the door to apartment K9. She paused, and backtracked a bit, sniffing the air as discreetly as possible. Paint. And Jasmine. What? No. She leaned in a little, trying to hear what was going on in there. She could hear the sound of something ripping, and a frustrated grunt before a large crash, and she grinned. Whoever was in there, be it Holden's mysterious booty call or not, was certainly annoyed with something.

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[HANNAH VULPINI]

OUTFIT OF A GRUMPY HANNAH

This was all Holden's fault! Hannah was certain of it! There was no other explanation! There was no other change that had beset her life! Hannah was going to punch him in the face next time she saw him! She really was. Since she had been seeing him- seeing him in an unofficial stance, as neither had decided to put a name to it- for awhile now. And, yeah, she'd admit it. It was nice. Not only was he a funny guy, but he was handsome and an a plus in bed. But he'd stay. He'd stay because she didn't tell him to go, and they'd talk and she'd not paint. And then when he was gone, she couldn't get the muses to flow because she was busy texting him. Well, not today, oh no, not today. He wasn't getting one Goddamn text form her today, OR ANY OTHER DAY, until she painted something that wasn't full of suck.

But no. No. Nothing was coming. The paints didn't cooperate, the photos would not turn to any of sustenance. Oh, she painted a nice enough scenery. But what, what? What the fuck did it say!? Tearing the blow out of the park down the middle she threw the strips aside. NOTHING! THEY SAID NOTHING! Punting her wastebasket across the room, she sighed deeply, plopping on to the futon. Damn it, damn him, fuck everything, it all hurt. Of course she could sketch, she could sketch all days. Pictures of wolves and of lovers and of men with sculpted chins and choppy hair. But she didn't want to draw those things. She wanted something different and new, and something fresh and clean.

She dressed quickly, needing some air. Maybe she'd go get some sake. On occasion getting smashed was useful- true she had a good stock of wine already here. It was just something to do. Her clothing was simple, worn out or homemade. A crocheted cropped sweater over a purple full tilt bra. Black torn jeans, with bulky knitted socks, and a pale green knitted hat that matched nothing she was wearing. Her make up was slept in, far too dark for her complexion, yet somehow pulled it off. Her dark hair was to her waist, slightly tangled and unwashed, thus having a disheveled sheen to it. Grabbing her boots, she pulled the door of her apartment open, shocked to find someone there.

A pretty girl, who was knobby and carelessly dressed. Hannah's placid face looked over, a slightly puzzled blink touching her face, but otherwise she was as still as a mountain. What a beautiful symmetry she had to her face. A strange fullness to her face. Hannah was not one to find beauty in things people thought beautiful. She loved the imperfections. Her nose was oddly shaped, like a U. So much so that her nostrils were near invisible. Though, this had to do how she held herself. She was taller than Hannah, her hair had a similar sheen, and her eyes were darkly lined and sharp. She was perfect. "Hello." Grabbing the girls hand, she pulled her in, testing the lighting in her apartment. That had been her whole reasoning behind getting this shit hole. The lighting was perfection.

Holding her hands up, she motioned for this person to hold still, examining her closely. Yes, yes, yes! Muse had returned to her! She was going to be able to call Holden over tonight ye- She was going to paint an amazing picture! Yay. Grabbing her camera, she held it up. "Hi. Not to be a creep, but can I paint you, weird girl who was at my door for whatever reason? I'm really liking your face right now." Yep. Totally not creepy at all!