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Post by ARCHER DEAN HARRINGTON on Feb 23, 2011 4:14:34 GMT -5
His footfalls felt unusually heavy on the concrete as Archer made his way from block to block, past the towering buildings of downtown. Hands stuffed in his pockets, his gaze flickered from one shop window to the next and he hunched his thin shoulders against the February cold. His cheeks remained flushed with windburn, however, as gusts funneled down the wide streets, brushing his hair back from his pale forehead. Despite the wool jacket, he felt chilled; he flipped the collar over his ears and tried not to shiver as he pushed open the glass door of one of the storefronts on his right.
Warm air and relief both washed over him as he stepped inside. The little bell on the door tinkled musically as it swung shut behind him, blocking out the chill from outside. His chapped hands remained in his pockets for quite some time as he stood near the door, gazing curiously about the coffee shop with guarded eyes. Something was very different, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. He’d come here to see Aoife, maybe talk to her a little if she had time, which it seemed like she would on a slow day like this. The shop itself was empty and an unfamiliar blond girl stood behind the counter. Archer’s brow wrinkled slightly. Aoife usually worked on Saturdays.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, approaching the counter with his hands behind his back. She acknowledged him with a pearly white grin that he willingly returned. “I was wondering if Aoife Cooper is in today. I’d like to speak with her.”
The blonde’s face fell just a little and she appeared thoughtful for a moment. “You must be talking about the girl who worked here before me. Sorry, she and another guy left. I’m one of the new hires. Can I get you something anyway?”
Archer would admit to being a little shocked at first. It must have shown on his face because the girl gave him what he interpreted as a sympathetic smile. He hoped this didn’t mean Aoife quit the Hide Out, too. Nah, she never would have done that without giving him some warning.
“Caramel macchiato, if you would be so kind, darling,” he said with his signature charmer’s grin and a flourish of his charge card. He caught her biting her lower lip, glancing at him out of the corner of her blue eyes; it was probably the accent. It always seemed to be, with American women. They liked Brits; he wouldn’t question it.
He paid and she passed him his coffee. Promptly, he sat himself at a corner table beside the windowed storefront and pulled his sketchbook from the bag he had slung over his shoulder. Tucking the bag again, he opened the book to a blank page and absently began sketching the girl at the counter.
tags// the lovely mer and her sexy mikell!
word count// 477
notes// short and late. apologies! this week is a bit busy, haha. hope this works for ya!
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Post by MIKELL JEFFREY BEDDOR on Mar 19, 2011 22:17:18 GMT -5
   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It is ridiculous how badly some of his students are doing. Mikell is fairly sure he’s a good teacher but if their grades are anything to go by, he’s very wrong in that assumption. Graphite and red ink stains his left hand as he scribbles a few more notes on one of his students’ papers, brow furrowing in frustration. He thought French was an easy language to learn, but perhaps that’s just him. He can, after all, learn any and all languages without struggles.
“Mikell, you are going to burn a hole through that stack of papers if you keep glaring at it.”
He jumps, turning in his chair to switch his glare from the papers to Edgar. It is on days like these that he regrets ever getting a pet. “I’m correcting homework. What the hell else did you expect?”
Edgar stares at him before turning around to drink from the water bowl, ending the conversation before Mikell can get another word in. It’s very tempting to go over and yank out the large rock that has become Edgar’s favorite, but he is a turtle and Mikell can’t be horrible to his pet. People, yes. Animals, no.
Mikell leans back in his chair, twirling his reading glasses in one hand while the other runs through his hair. He figures it’s a good time to get away from all the work and grab a coffee to relax. He’s been staring at books and homework for the past few hours and a headache is beginning to form. Mikell pushes away from his work desk and grabs his coat hanging on the hook nearby, patting his pockets to make sure he has his keys and phone.
“Be good, Edgar.”
As he closes the door behind him, he’s pretty sure he hears the turtle scoff. ------------ It’s relief to get out of the cold and inside the warm atmosphere of the nearby Starbucks. Mikell pays no attention to the other people in the café, choosing instead to make a beeline for the counter. Walking outside in the chilly weather just gives him more reason to get his usual drink.
“How can I help you?”
Mikell shoots the blonde a boyish grin, digging around his wallet for his Starbucks card. “Espresso macchiato, please and thank you.” He hands her the card, letting his fingers linger over hers for just a tad too long. She might not actually be at a legal age just yet, but that’s never stopped Mikell from hitting on anyone. While he waits, Mikell finally gives a look around at the people here. It’s fairly empty, which means he can probably snag his favorite sp— oh. He arches a brow at the corner table, watching the occupant with mild interest. He looks familiar but Mikell can’t place a name which probably means that he’s a student at the school.
“Here you go, sir.”
He turns his attention back to the girl behind the counter, smile back in place. With a nod of thanks and a wink, Mikell grabs the espresso and walks toward his normal spot. Mikell hadn’t intended on finding a conversation partner, but life is full of surprises. He drapes his coat over the back of the chair before sitting down in front of the young man and nursing his cup of coffee. While most people would be nervous that they’d be shot down for being so bold, Mikell is more than confident enough that he can strike a conversation and keep his attention. There’s also the fact that, up close, this man is actually quite attractive and Mikell is nothing if not determined when he notices attractive people.
“Come here often?” Mikell eyes what he can see of the other man, a small smirk playing on his lips. Hitting on people is always a fantastic stress-reliever, especially if it leads to other things. “I feel I’ve seen you before, but I obviously didn’t pay too much attention. I’m sure I would have remembered you if I had.”
word count: six hundred and seventy
notes: hiiii. <3 sorry for failing and taking forever. BUT HERE YOU GO.
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Post by ARCHER DEAN HARRINGTON on Mar 25, 2011 2:55:17 GMT -5
Despite trying his damnedest, Archer simply couldn’t get the counter girl’s cheekbones right. His lips pulled together, and then sagged in a slightly frustrated frown before he went to shading her nose, occasionally glancing up just to make sure he wasn’t making it too large. He wanted to do the poor girl justice if he was going to draw her. After all, as an artist, he found that concept rather important on the whole. In short, steady strokes, his thin hand worked, guiding the pencil over the thick page; his eyes grew dark with concentration and he squinted slightly as he continued to carefully sketch her.
Nothing distracted the boy from his task until he took a momentary break, setting his pencil down and picking up his coffee cup instead. Absently, he sipped from it, now that it was cool enough not to scald his tongue on contact, and his eyes traveled the small coffee shop with interest. It wasn’t particularly crowded, which is why he liked this time of the day on Saturdays. He often came in here when it was quiet to work on art pieces or to chat with Aoife, although that particular pastime seemed unlikely now that she wasn’t working anymore. Maybe he should text her…
He’d just reached for the phone in his pocket when somebody took an abrupt seat in front of him without warning. Archer barely restrained himself from flinching in alarm; usually, people didn’t join him for coffee, especially complete strangers. It took a good long look at his new companion’s face to realize that they weren’t, in fact, strangers.
“Mister Jeffrey,” he nearly blurted, blinking in surprise before choosing to quickly compose himself for posterity’s sake. After all, Archer prided himself on being smooth… usually.
However, at least inside his head, he found it difficult to feel smooth when what his instructor said fully processed. The words, the tone of voice… Why, if Archer didn’t know any better…
Everybody admired Mister Jeffrey, at least physically. A lot of the girls – and guys – took his class because they wanted him. Archer didn’t like to admit his own attraction to men. Frankly, it unnerved him to a certain extent and he never spoke of his “trysts” with other guys, except maybe to Aoife, and even then he remained subtle about it.
“I do, as a matter of fact,” he said, quickly closing his sketchbook and picking up his cup of coffee again, as if that would provide him some comfort and stability. Frankly, he wasn’t sure what to do about this. “But you probably haven’t seen me here.” He hesitated before adding, very casually, “I take your class, actually. Going into senior year.” Archer chanced a quick smirk. “Archer Harrington. Pretty average in French, actually. The sentence structure confuses me.”
A shrug, another quick sip of his coffee.
“Always wondered what teachers do on their days off. I suppose your secret lives aren’t as exciting as I thought they were.” This time, he actually chuckled, if a bit weakly, mostly because he knew very well he was doing something wrong. However timid he was, flirting back at a teacher probably wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.
tags// the lovely mer and her sexy mikell!
word count// 534
notes// his dialogue's a little meh, but he doesn't know what to do, poor thing. xP this is bound to be fun. |
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