ICH WILL [Alphonse]

[charlie]

C

[/color][/size]harolette's tail swung around her legs as she lay curled up, a quiet purr building in her throat as she slept. She had felt so warm, so relaxed...that the thought of moving from where she lay, upset her. She yawned, her ears pulling back and her body tensing as she did so. What time was it? What did she do last night, again? What scent was she picking up? Everything felt different on this particular morning. She was in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by different smells- strongly picking up Fallen. Nor was she fully clothed. Her reddish-brown eyes blinked open and she sat up, shuffling the sheets off of her. Her ears swiveled, trying to listen for whoever she was getting the scent from. Charolette had already assumed she'd been tangled in another drunken one night stand; since she hardly remembered what had happened and had no clue where she was. Her tail curled about, dangling off of the bed's side as it swung and twitched. Though she felt vulnerable in unfamiliar places, she was oddly calm still. She felt sort of...at home. As if her ending up here was simply ok. She blinked again and slid herself from the bed, walking around the room to curiously observe the objects that were displayed around its vacinity. She smiled a little and picked up a pair of glasses that sat on the side table near the opposite side of the bed, placing them on her face. Whoever they had belonged to, had horrid vision. Charolette removed them almost as soon as she put them on, feeling her head already starting to become dizzy from the glasses' lenses.

T[/color][/size]hough it wasn't hers, she picked up a black wife beater that lay on the floor, not too far from the side table where she found the glasses, and put it on. She felt that since her clothes weren't anywhere in this room, she'd simply borrow those of the other. At least she wasn't in just a bra and boyshort underwear anymore. Now she at least looked semi-dressed with the wife beater (which fit her small body simply because her chest took up the excess space that was normally occupied by male bulk/muscle). She eyed herself in a nearby mirror, turning about to see how she looked from every angle. With a smile and a shrug, she turned towards the door and cracked it open, peering out cautiously. If she had been in the home of someone dangerous, she figured she would've been hurt or dead already, so she slunk out, her ears turning about to listen for the other (who she could smell slightly). Charolette's tail wagged slightly as she smirked, stepping lightly down the hallway to find a slightly winding staircase. She stepped down each step as quietly as she could, sniffing as she went along- the scent of the other becoming stronger. So they had already been awake? Or was her company so terrible to the other that they moved and slept downstairs? She hoped the second choice was not the case. Oddly enough, when she reached the final step, she saw no one. Her ears pulled back, getting slightly antsy and irritable. Where was this other person she had obviously spent the night with? Curiously, she walked out into the living room, peering around corners and behind the couches. No one, still. She huffed. Were they playing some kind of game? Did they leave for work, maybe? Ah, well. No point in starving while her night's "play toy" was elsewhere. She'd leave after her stomach was satisfied.

E[/color][/size]agerly, Charolette pulled open the ice box, digging around for something to fit her tummy's wants and desires. There were pretty good ingredients stashed in there, plus a lot of booze. She curiously pryed through the cabinets, pulling out this and that- coming to the decision she'd love some apple pie. It was actually one of Charolette's favorite things to eat in the morning. She worked tediously, excitedly creating her breakfast as she hummed and wagged her tail about. The kitchen was soon filled with the strong aroma of freshly baked goods, warm apples, and cinnamon. She pulled the pie out, its appearence was beautifully golden, steaming, and delicious. Charolette's ears purked up as her tail gave a twitch, taking in the scent and sight of the breakfast/dessert she had completed. With a remaining joyful look on her face, she pulled herself out a plate (after searching for one for a few minutes), and carefully cut herself a slice of the pie, which she ate quietly at the table. She was making the assumption that she'd have her pie eaten, be dressed, and leave the place before the guy got back. Then again, it was just a simple assumption she was making...

Word Count: 803! $$ added
Tagged: ALPHONSE c;
Music: This hurr c:
Notes: Yay! A thread fo' the new lovers!~
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[alphonse]

Alphonse hated to admit it, he really did, but this was the first time that he had gotten any action in awhile. After a nasty break up he really didn't feel like getting into detail about, he had kinda sworn off the women for while. Or anyone. Another thing he didn't like to admit was the fact that he had really liked the last girl he had dated, and that she had seriously hurt him when they had broken up. Though it wasn't terribly long ago by even human standards, to a man who was used to having someone around, it seemed like decades. The blonde had never breathed a word of this to anybody, even Emille. Emille was probably the worst person you could ever tell anything to, especially personal shit. The ginger alpha was like a goddamn megaphone. A goddamn fucking megaphone who enjoyed embarrassing his fallen friend as often as he could. It was because of this that Alphonse tended to keep his personal shit a secret from Emille, especially in the past few decades. As work become more and more prominent in the ginger's life, the less the blonde would hang around his brother from another mother and drink grumpily by himself. In the past, such occasions would often land him in either two places- a drunk tank or somebody elses' bed. And as mentioned before, he hadn't been exactly a big hit with this generation's females.

Or so he had thought. It had been like any other night for the blonde. Sitting in a barstool at some hole-in-the-wall bar in a shitty part of an even shittier town, drinking bad booze and chainsmoking like a chimney. The bar had been practically empty and close to closing time when something unusual had happened. It had all started with an accident, when a young girl in short pants and a tight shirt had spilled her drink on him. She was absolutely plastered and well, he was about as buzzed as he could ever be these days. And despite his current, slightly intoxicated state, he found the girl to be quite appealing. She was funny, pretty as hell, smoked just as much as she did and actually found him remotely attractive [though that probably was the booze]. There was also the fact that she was French, which just for some reason, made everything even better. What could possibly be better than a hot, drunk French chick?

The last thing Alphonse remembered was having his face being eaten by said hot French chick and taking her home, to the bigass house he shared with Emille. And as to what happened the rest of the evening, it didn't take a genius to figure that out.

The next morning the blonde man had found himself oddly in a good mood. he had gotten laid and the chick was almost as attractive as he remembered her being. Slipping out of bed earlier than usual, Alphonse decided that now would probably be a grand time to take a quick shower. The blonde lumbered tiredly out of his bedroom and down the hall to Emille's bedroom, where the master bathroom was [Emille had broken his entire bathroom]. As he entered Emille's room, he noticed first off that it was surprisingly empty. The blonde soon shrugged this off, as it was probably best he wasn't here anyway. If she was as half as cool as he suspected she was, he really didn't want to have to take 'mille to the hospital after she dropkicked him. It was all rather complicated, with him being a royal and all. Locking the door behind him as he entered the bathroom, Alphonse dropped his boxers and hopped in the shower. The blonde man sighed contentedly, unaware of the fact that the woman was up and moving around. It wasn't for another ten minutes later that she was up and had stolen his only clean shirt as of the moment. He shrugged and slid on his jeans and glasses, his inked skin and what was left of his shredded/mostly destroyed wings exposed. He squeezed what water he could out of his hair, but let it hang lose, due to the fact he couldn't seem to find one of those fucking hair ties that 'mille kept stealing.

Alphonse yawned tiredly and bounded down the stairs at the distinct and wonderful smell of apple pie. The blonde man stopped at the door to the kitchen, watching the woman as she was dinking around in Emille's domain. He smirked slightly and slipped his hands into his pockets, watching her for a moment. Snagging a pack of smokes from the counter and lighting it with an aim and flame, the blonde fallen took a drag. "Hm, that smells pretty good." he commented, his strong accent as unintelligible sounding as ever. "Y'mind if I snag a slice when 's done?"

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words: 813
notes: C: