Avalanche in the Corridor

[EDWARD PEARSON]

❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂It was only a small stretch of corridor left; if he'd made it this far, he'd make it a little bit longer. He knew he shouldn't bring back quite so many books. Every time he went to the library he'd promise himself, 'Only a couple of books, maybe five at most. You can manage that,' and yet he'd always come back with towers of them, bag bursting to the seams and arms full. He'd already bumped into several people on the stairs up, with small mutters of apologies as he went on past. He heard their comments of, "He's mad," and the like, but ignored it. Books were better company than such people, which is why he had so many.

Managing, just about, to catch The Picture of Dorian Grey as it slid from his forearm, he tripped backwards a little, reaching out a hand to steady himself. His hand connected with the wall behind him and he stopped falling, however his reading material didn't, and half of it slipped from his grasped as he desperately scrabbled to stop them falling to the floor. As a number of them fell, one hitting his shin on the way down, he hissed slightly in pain and mild annoyance. Deciding that he could leave them there for now, as the corridor was deserted, he stacked them a little bit neater before getting out the key for his dorm door. He slipped his bag off his shoulder, letting it slump down on the floor with a loud, 'thud.' Using his left hand, as his right was still full, he fumbled with the key, trying to get it into the lock. Eventually he got the door open, and turned back to pick up his other novels.

And promptly tripped over his bag and fell flat on his face.

He cursed inwardly, glaring down a little at the bag strap that was tangled around his shoe, and then looking up in resignation and the avalanche of volumes sliding down the wall. Poor books, they didn't deserve this kind of treatment. He sat up slightly, leaning back against his doorframe, checking himself for bruises and carpet burn, hoping there were none. Preoccupied, he didn't notice that he was blocking up the corridor with his legs and his books. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd done this, and no one had noticed before, so why would they now?❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂

And one man in his time plays many parts.

word count:417
mood:Happy ^.^
tag:Ivy
credit:jacksome111@caution 2.0!
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[CLEO EVERETT]

Cleo had WAY TOO MUCH HOMEWORK. She was so stupid for having put it off. Really, it had not been her best idea. Definitely not worth having spent all that time doing… whatever it was. Probably swimming and shopping and going to the beach at Coney Island. How could she say no to the beach, though? Exactly. She couldn’t. Unfortunately, due to her procrastinating, she was now way behind. She should’ve known by now that you couldn’t slack on homework at college. Professors weren’t nearly as lax as teachers had been. So, with her arms full of textbooks from her locker, Cleo had been determined to get everything done tonight.

Without her textbooks, she couldn’t have done a thing. It just sucked that she couldn’t have gotten into the school building later (aka: whenever she wanted). Because of that, she had to grab all of her books instead of being able to go back and forth. Cleo could hardly see over the stack of books in her arms. It wasn’t that she had so many, just that she hadn’t piled them as well as she could have. Not to mention her backpack was hanging by the strap on her forearm and it was driving her insane, the way it kept hitting her hip.

It was, of course, just her luck that she wasn’t the only one stumbling around with a ton of books. Having absolutely no way of seeing the books scattered about in the hallway, she was sure to trip over them. Cleo tried peering by her books to see if there wasn’t anybody in the hall to claim the books. However, just as she did so, she tripped over something and her textbooks were soon on the floor as well. Groaning, Cleo pushed herself up and looked around for what she’d fallen over.

Cleo didn’t recognize him which was saying something since they apparently lived on the same floor. Rubbing her knees (it was always the knees that hurt the most after a fall), Cleo watched him for a moment. It must’ve been his legs that tripped on because whatever it was hadn’t felt like books. “I don’t know if I should say sorry for tripping over you…” She started as she slowly grinned, “or if I should expect you to apologize for making this hallway so dangerous.”

[EDWARD PEARSON]

❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂His eyes widened in surprise as he looked up from his feet to the woman who'd just fallen over them. He stammered a little, starting an apology, "I'm sorry, really...this corridor's normally deserted until at least eleven. You're not hurt, are you?" Frantically, he started to pick his books up, piling them all neatly just behind his door before starting to pick hers up as well. He noticed as he did so that hers were all textbooks; studying, then? Homework perhaps. Senior year was loaded with work, and by the looks of things this person had only just realised that. Inwardly, he tutted slightly at the slacking nature. However, he tried to push it out of his mind; there was no use judging someone before he'd actually met them.

After putting her books down in as orderly fashion as he could manage, he offered a hand out to help her up. "Sorry, really..." he muttered again, feeling like a bit of a fool. He found it odd that he'd never met her before, they did, after all, live on the same floor. He supposed they didn't have any of the same lessons, and racked his brain to try and remember what was actually written on the textbooks he'd picked up. He really did have to start being more observant, both of his surroundings and of the things he did. If he took more of an interest in peo- ah. That's why he hadn't noticed.

With his spare hand he neatened up his jumper a little, realising that he looked a right mess. His night had been pretty much sleepless again, but he didn't mind; he'd finished off three more books, which meant he was only reading four now. Well...until he'd been to the library this afternoon. He'd start another five or so tonight, have them finished by next week, and then the cycle would begin all over again. Endless books. He couldn't get enough of them, at all. Fantasy, historical, factual. Just to read. He would be happy alone forever, provided he had his books.❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂

And one man in his time plays many parts.

word count:463
mood:Happy ^.^
tag:Ivy
credit:jacksome111@caution 2.0!
[/size]

[CLEO EVERETT]

He probably hadn’t caught onto the fact that she was joking. Had she sounded serious? Or angry? Oops. Maybe she had but she hadn’t noticed. Wasn’t that something you’d notice, though? Surely she’d know if she sounded mad. It was a bit late to be over-thinking it now because he was already seriously apologizing. Cleo shook her head quite fiercely, “no! No, really. It’s totally fine.” She probably didn’t mind so much because, thanks to him, she had a few more free minutes before homework. “I’d rather anything happen as long as it saved me from catching up on school work.”

Wow… that probably made her sound like a terrible student. Which she wasn’t! Really! And she didn’t want people thinking that about her! “Not that I’m a slacker…!” She added quickly before mentally slapping herself in the face. He’d started to organize all of the books which was probably for the better; it would be just like her to accidentally grab some of his. They weren’t textbooks, she noticed, and there were a lot of them. More books than she could handle, anyway. Then again, she had always preferred reading one at a time. “I figured it’d be impossible to read that many books with the workload of a college student…” She commented, wishing she had that much free time.

“I’m Cleo,” she said, watching as he also organized her textbooks. He was very nice, wasn’t he? If not a bit quiet… Cleo peered by him just a bit, not trying to be nosy, but also curious about his dorm. Hers was usually a mess (she blamed Scottie) and she was always interested in how other students kept their places together. However, she quickly realized this was rude and looked back at him. “Sorry for tripping over you. Are you alright?” Because she couldn’t not apologize over that! Cleo started to gather her textbooks, taking the time to shove some of them into her backpack. The last thing she needed was to drop her books all over again further down the hall.

[EDWARD PEARSON]

❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂He chuckled a little at comment about avoiding schoolwork; even Edward, who worked harder than a lot of people in government probably did, had days where he just didn't want to do anything but read for leisure and eat pasta and pesto. To sink into a good narrative without having to worry about how the Romans used plosive vowels to make their speeches sound more impressive, or how the Greeks used a rhythmic metre to ensure that their poems would be remembered through the ages. All of that was...riveting, but only sometimes. Sometimes you just needed some Mary Shelley or Charlotte Bronte instead; though he often had to fight the urge to analyse their writing style. Oh how schooling had tried to ruin his enjoyment of a good book.

He laughed just a little more at the rushed claim that she wasn't a slacker. He'd never assumed she was, until she'd told him she wasn't. That was fine, it really was. If she wanted to do badl- no. No judging people. She seemed like a lovely person, so what did academics matter? A little voice at the back of Edward's mind squeaked, 'A whole lot,' but he ignored it. He'd spent his adolescence learning that people didn't need to be work-inclined to be nice and he fought hard to keep that knowledge at the forefront of his mind, no matter what.

He looked up from his now neatly stacked pile of books at the statement of college workload, and smiled a little, "It's not easy...you should see the library fines I have," he laughed again a tad at his own joke, before feeling a little awkward and stopping entirely. "But seriously, I read a lot more of these than I probably should..." He glanced down at his books quickly, before looking back up at Cleo. Smiling some, he held out his hand, "I'm Edward, it's nice to meet you," he replied before realising just how dorky it sounded, "And I'm fine, really, I've done worse damage..."❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂

And one man in his time plays many parts.

word count:358
mood:SLEEPY SLEEPY DWARF
tag:Cleo
credit:jacksome111@caution 2.0!
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[CLEO EVERETT]

Well, he was laughing. That was good. Of course it was. Laughter was always good. Wait. Actually. There was such a thing as condescending laughter. Why was she even making such a big deal about it? Who actually put this much thought into laughing? Cleo after tripping and dropping all of her books, apparently.

Cleo smiled, giving herself points for being right. He was the first college student she'd met that had time to read any books. Free time usually went to studying, homework, or maybe catching up with the family. Of course, there were the students who just partied all the time. They definitely wouldn't spend free time reading books.

Cleo laughed. Library fines. That sounded like a nightmare. "I would be so bad with paying library fines. I'd return the books even if I wasn't finished." She did not want to spend her money paying for a book when it could go to something like sweets or a movie. She eyed the books again, more curiously now, wondering what sort of genre he read. "I'll say..."

Maybe if she actually finished her homework in a timely matter, she'd have more free time for things like reading (maybe) and swimming (definitely). Cleo looked back up and grinned, shaking his hand. "Pleasure." Well, this definitely had gone better than expected. She could've tripped over somebody who shrieked at her for being blind and clumsy.

Cleo breathed a sigh of relief. Good. The last thing she wanted was for him to actually be hurt because she was, in fact, blind and clumsy. "I'm glad. Imagine if it'd happened at the stairs. God," she shuddered, "that would've been awful."