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Jan. 18th, 2005 07:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsTimes I've heard some variation of 'can you bring me....?" about 30. Times I've heard 'pitiful moaning noise followed by, I'm dying' hundreds. Times I've heard sniffs and coughs and nasty noises that really aren't human, millions. To be fair James is pretty sick, but enough is enough! Which is to say the house of disease is still going strong.
This last week or so I've being reading a few interesting posts about writing styles and if you could be recognised by them. It made me think of my own stuff and how I've slipped into always using present tense with a strict one person POV. ( I think it's present tense anyway ). I don't know if that's a good thing or not so decided to at least try something different, starting with the tense issue, which hey isn't much but it's a start. I also promised![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dazzlingstar a h/c trickc ficlet when that wishlist meme was going around, and well, this is what I came up with.
It was the persistent ringing that woke JC. Scrabbling blindly on the bedside table he found his cell and managed to jam it between his pillow and ear after a few fumbling tries. Then, yawning hugely, he stretched an arm and kicked at the sheets that had twisted and bunched around his body overnight, tightening them even further until he sighed and gave up the fight. All the while Lance’s voice sounded from the cell, the sound a constant background drone until JC tuned him in with a last wide yawn.
“Do you know what time it is?” JC demanded sleepily, and he squinted at his bedside clock, surprised when he realised that it really wasn’t the middle of the night at all.
“Time you were up.”
The fond ‘lazy ass’ on the end was unsaid but JC could still hear it. The same way he could see Lance’s toothy grin despite being states apart. “Yeah? What time did you get up then, Mr Party to Dawn?”
“Before you obviously,” Lance answered and that time the laughter was audible in his voice. “I’ve walked the dogs and had a meeting already. It’s lunchtime now.”
With that knowledge JC could finally interpret the faint sounds he heard over his cell. The pad of bare feet against a tile floor, the creak of a cupboard door, the clatter of a knife against a plate. Years of memories creating so vivid an image of Lance in his kitchen that JC felt he could almost reach out and touch.
“What are you eating?”
“I’m having roast beef and mustard, on some of that granary bread that…wait.” Lance stopped talking, his voice turning suspicious. “This isn’t some kind of ‘what are you wearing’ question is it? Because it’s too early to think of food sex and I’m hungry. I don’t want my lunch ruined by whatever kinky fantasy you have about sandwiches.”
“I’m just enjoying lunch through you, nothing sexual, promise,” JC said with a smile, long aware his friends believed his every thought was about sex, which wasn’t true at all. Sometimes he went hours without thinking about it at all.
“Good,” Lance said, still sounding doubtful but obviously willing to let it go.
“Did you phone to tell me about your day or is there something you want? It’s just; if you want to chat I need the bathroom first.”
“No,” Lance said, and JC heard the chink of a spoon against a mug, three quick turns as always. “I mean I phoned you for a reason. Justin called me this morning with a message for you.”
“Wait,” JC said, interrupting. “Justin has a message for me? Why didn’t he phone me himself?” Confused, JC sat up, dragging the sheets with him as he leaned back, bare skin pressed against the padded headboard.
“I asked him that. He tried to phone but you didn’t pick up.”
“I was out last night…”
“I know, I’ve seen the pictures,” Lance said, voice heavy with laughter. “That’s an interesting hairstyle you’ve got. I hope you didn’t pay the guy who did it.”
JC ignored the comment, immune after years of similar remarks. “…so I obviously didn’t hear it ring. He should have left a message.”
“He said he did. Have you checked your voice mail?”
“Did you miss the part where you woke me up?” JC asked with pointed sarcasm. “I’d usually be sleeping for hours yet.”
“Sucks to be you,” Lance said, satisfied amusement barely hidden under the dry tone. “I promised Justin that I’d pass on his message as soon as possible, so had to wake you. You wouldn’t want to make a liar of me would you?”
“I think it’s a bit late for that, cat.” JC shook his head and grinned; fully aware that one interview and a thousand repeats had insured Lance would carry the label of boyband liar for life. “But tell me anyway.”
Lance sighed, big and fake. “The message is, and I repeat this word for word. JC has to come look after Chris. He’s driving me insane and if I knew he was sick I’d have never visited. I’ll give him a day to get here, after that I’m sending my security team for him. He hung up then muttering something about tissue mountains and pissy little men. Then he rang back five minutes later to say he felt bad about the not visiting thing because Chris can’t help being sick and he would have still visited anyway but really if you’re the one getting all the benefits you should deal with the negative stuff too. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you about that call though.”
“He’s sick? He was okay when I talked to him last,” JC said, and he frowned at his bedclothes, trying to remember how Chris had sounded the day before. “He said he was going to go to the studio and he sounded fine.”
“Well apparently he’s not now. Do you want me to book you a flight while you pack?”
“You’re assuming I’m going,” JC said, pulling at a twisted sheet with one hand.
“Sure you’re going, the same as you’re going to get ready right about now.”
Lance’s laughter ringing in his ear, JC smiled as he finally untangled himself and stood, already planning what he’d need to take. “A flight would be good and can you phone Justin and tell him I’m coming? I need to shower.”
“Since when did I become your secretary?” Lance asked sarcastically, the sound of a keyboard in use a background to the question. “I’ll send details of your flight soon, and tell Chris I’ll phone him when he’s feeling better.”
“I will, thanks man.” JC ended the call and made for the bathroom, mind already miles away.
~*~*~*~
JC’s knuckles had only just grazed the door when it was flung open and a whirlwind of motion spilled out. Within seconds he was engulfed in its centre, wrapped in strong arms with his cheek pressed against a bony collar bone. Stunned, all he could do was hug back, squeezing tight as his bag dropped to the floor.
“You look good,” Justin announced when he finally pulled back, grinning wide as he picked up the dropped bag.
“I’m feeling good,” JC said, he smiled and ran a hand over the buzzed side of his head, fingers brushing the gelled middle spikes. “I heard someone isn’t though.”
Justin shook his head, the crease on his forehead deep as he looked into the house. “You got that right. When I arrived yesterday I found him dressed in at least four layers and cocooned on the couch under a blanket. Of course he said he was fine, even when he almost keeled over going to get a beer.”
“Did he drink any?” JC asked, knowing if Chris wanted beer he’d drink beer, sense be damned.
“No,” Justin said, and he picked up the bag, ushering JC inside out of the blazing sun. “He hasn’t moved since his ass hit the couch, just lies there like a diseased germ coated lump, refusing any help and bitching as I force fluids into him.”
“You know you can’t actually see germs right, J? At least not with the naked eye.” JC said teasingly. He looked at Justin, noting the concern concealed under the complaints. “I’ll look after him, and make him see the doctor if he needs to.”
“I know. It’s just, I would have stayed but I’ve appearances to do and I’d blow them off in an instant if I had to but really he’s not that sick.” Justin shrugged and looked toward a half open door. “Plus you know he’s driving me crazy.”
“Which isn’t the main reason at all,” JC teased and clapped Justin on the back. “No it’s good. I’ve rearranged some stuff and can stay a while; it’ll be good to spend some downtime together.”
“Rather you than me.” Justin said, then dug for his cell when it started to ring, ending the call without looking at the display. “That’ll be Trace again; he’s been holding my ride until you got here.”
Suddenly Justin was all movement, hugging JC hard and slapping his back before hurrying to the door. “I really have to go. I’ve already said goodbye to Chris but remind him I’ll phone later.”
With a last wave and the clatter of the front door he was gone. JC stood a moment, taking in a last moment of quiet then squared his shoulders and entered the room of disease.
It took him less than a minute to see what Justin meant. From his sweat damp hair to the one yellow socked foot that stuck pathetically out of a pile of blankets Chris was a germ coated lump. If he had sense JC would go nowhere near, but when it came to Chris sense had long since left the equation and JC hurried across the room and dropped to his knees.
“Hey,” JC said softly. He brushed his fingers over Chris’ cheekbone and kissed him quickly on the lips, frowning at the heat of his skin. “I hear you’re sick.”
“That’s a lie,” Chris said without opening his eyes. “I’m fine, just taking a nap.”
“Sure you are, and that’s why Justin didn’t dare leave you alone.” JC said. “And why you’re burning up.”
“I’m naturally hot, you know that.” Chris joked weakly, opening one eye and peering at JC.
“You are that,” JC said seriously, pleased when his words caused a faint smile. “You’re also sick and need to take your medicine. I know Justin would have sent out for some.” He looked around the room, satisfied when he saw a bulging bag from the local drug store lying next to a pile of magazines.
“Justin’s over reacting, he always does.”
“Justin was trying to take care of you,” JC said sternly. He whapped at the lump of Chris’ shoulder and tried to glare, then gave up when Chris looked at him, glassy eyed and pathetic. “You won’t get better if you won’t see a doctor or take some over the counter stuff at least.”
“The problem with that reasoning is I’m not sick,” Chris said through a suppressed cough. “Therefore I don’t need drugs.”
“Okay, you’re not sick, but take something for me anyway.” JC leaned back and snagged the bag, emptying it onto the floor, creating an impressive pile of over the counter drugs and vitamins. Pushing one hand under the sweltering heap of blankets, he let his fingers rest against Chris’ arm. Then used the other to pick through the pile, carefully reading each box and bottle until he found something he thought would help.
“Can you sit up?” JC looked at Chris who stared back at him through half shut eyes.
“I’m not an invalid; of course I can sit up.”
“Fine,” JC said patiently and forced himself to remain still.
Slowly, inch by painful inch, Chris moved. “Told you I could do it.”
“You did,” JC agreed and he leaned forward, kissing Chris quickly on the cheek. “If you take this I’ll let you sleep again.”
“I’ve just sat up,” Chris said peevishly. “Make up your mind.”
JC clasped the small cap of medicine tighter, suppressing a sigh. “Take it and I’ll sleep here with you tonight.”
“Are you bribing me? Because that’s just low,” Chris said, amusement faint but still there beneath the layers of sickness. “But seeing as it’s you…” He reached for the medicine, swallowing it with one gulp.
Satisfied, JC took the sticky cap and put it to one side. Then turned to efficiently rearrange blankets and help Chris squirm back into his cocoon until only his face could be seen.
“I know you were going to sleep here tonight anyway,” Chris suddenly said, voice blurred with sleep as he pushed a hand free, linking his fingers with JC’s. “So don’t think your bribe worked or anything.”
“I’d never think that.” JC squeezed his hand and pushed aside the pile of medicine so he could fold himself comfortably next to the sofa, his head resting next to Chris’. “I know I’d never get the better of you that easy.”
JC looked at the sleeping Chris and smiled, germ coated lump or not there was no place he’d rather be.
This last week or so I've being reading a few interesting posts about writing styles and if you could be recognised by them. It made me think of my own stuff and how I've slipped into always using present tense with a strict one person POV. ( I think it's present tense anyway ). I don't know if that's a good thing or not so decided to at least try something different, starting with the tense issue, which hey isn't much but it's a start. I also promised
dazzlingstar a h/c trickc ficlet when that wishlist meme was going around, and well, this is what I came up with.It was the persistent ringing that woke JC. Scrabbling blindly on the bedside table he found his cell and managed to jam it between his pillow and ear after a few fumbling tries. Then, yawning hugely, he stretched an arm and kicked at the sheets that had twisted and bunched around his body overnight, tightening them even further until he sighed and gave up the fight. All the while Lance’s voice sounded from the cell, the sound a constant background drone until JC tuned him in with a last wide yawn.
“Do you know what time it is?” JC demanded sleepily, and he squinted at his bedside clock, surprised when he realised that it really wasn’t the middle of the night at all.
“Time you were up.”
The fond ‘lazy ass’ on the end was unsaid but JC could still hear it. The same way he could see Lance’s toothy grin despite being states apart. “Yeah? What time did you get up then, Mr Party to Dawn?”
“Before you obviously,” Lance answered and that time the laughter was audible in his voice. “I’ve walked the dogs and had a meeting already. It’s lunchtime now.”
With that knowledge JC could finally interpret the faint sounds he heard over his cell. The pad of bare feet against a tile floor, the creak of a cupboard door, the clatter of a knife against a plate. Years of memories creating so vivid an image of Lance in his kitchen that JC felt he could almost reach out and touch.
“What are you eating?”
“I’m having roast beef and mustard, on some of that granary bread that…wait.” Lance stopped talking, his voice turning suspicious. “This isn’t some kind of ‘what are you wearing’ question is it? Because it’s too early to think of food sex and I’m hungry. I don’t want my lunch ruined by whatever kinky fantasy you have about sandwiches.”
“I’m just enjoying lunch through you, nothing sexual, promise,” JC said with a smile, long aware his friends believed his every thought was about sex, which wasn’t true at all. Sometimes he went hours without thinking about it at all.
“Good,” Lance said, still sounding doubtful but obviously willing to let it go.
“Did you phone to tell me about your day or is there something you want? It’s just; if you want to chat I need the bathroom first.”
“No,” Lance said, and JC heard the chink of a spoon against a mug, three quick turns as always. “I mean I phoned you for a reason. Justin called me this morning with a message for you.”
“Wait,” JC said, interrupting. “Justin has a message for me? Why didn’t he phone me himself?” Confused, JC sat up, dragging the sheets with him as he leaned back, bare skin pressed against the padded headboard.
“I asked him that. He tried to phone but you didn’t pick up.”
“I was out last night…”
“I know, I’ve seen the pictures,” Lance said, voice heavy with laughter. “That’s an interesting hairstyle you’ve got. I hope you didn’t pay the guy who did it.”
JC ignored the comment, immune after years of similar remarks. “…so I obviously didn’t hear it ring. He should have left a message.”
“He said he did. Have you checked your voice mail?”
“Did you miss the part where you woke me up?” JC asked with pointed sarcasm. “I’d usually be sleeping for hours yet.”
“Sucks to be you,” Lance said, satisfied amusement barely hidden under the dry tone. “I promised Justin that I’d pass on his message as soon as possible, so had to wake you. You wouldn’t want to make a liar of me would you?”
“I think it’s a bit late for that, cat.” JC shook his head and grinned; fully aware that one interview and a thousand repeats had insured Lance would carry the label of boyband liar for life. “But tell me anyway.”
Lance sighed, big and fake. “The message is, and I repeat this word for word. JC has to come look after Chris. He’s driving me insane and if I knew he was sick I’d have never visited. I’ll give him a day to get here, after that I’m sending my security team for him. He hung up then muttering something about tissue mountains and pissy little men. Then he rang back five minutes later to say he felt bad about the not visiting thing because Chris can’t help being sick and he would have still visited anyway but really if you’re the one getting all the benefits you should deal with the negative stuff too. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you about that call though.”
“He’s sick? He was okay when I talked to him last,” JC said, and he frowned at his bedclothes, trying to remember how Chris had sounded the day before. “He said he was going to go to the studio and he sounded fine.”
“Well apparently he’s not now. Do you want me to book you a flight while you pack?”
“You’re assuming I’m going,” JC said, pulling at a twisted sheet with one hand.
“Sure you’re going, the same as you’re going to get ready right about now.”
Lance’s laughter ringing in his ear, JC smiled as he finally untangled himself and stood, already planning what he’d need to take. “A flight would be good and can you phone Justin and tell him I’m coming? I need to shower.”
“Since when did I become your secretary?” Lance asked sarcastically, the sound of a keyboard in use a background to the question. “I’ll send details of your flight soon, and tell Chris I’ll phone him when he’s feeling better.”
“I will, thanks man.” JC ended the call and made for the bathroom, mind already miles away.
~*~*~*~
JC’s knuckles had only just grazed the door when it was flung open and a whirlwind of motion spilled out. Within seconds he was engulfed in its centre, wrapped in strong arms with his cheek pressed against a bony collar bone. Stunned, all he could do was hug back, squeezing tight as his bag dropped to the floor.
“You look good,” Justin announced when he finally pulled back, grinning wide as he picked up the dropped bag.
“I’m feeling good,” JC said, he smiled and ran a hand over the buzzed side of his head, fingers brushing the gelled middle spikes. “I heard someone isn’t though.”
Justin shook his head, the crease on his forehead deep as he looked into the house. “You got that right. When I arrived yesterday I found him dressed in at least four layers and cocooned on the couch under a blanket. Of course he said he was fine, even when he almost keeled over going to get a beer.”
“Did he drink any?” JC asked, knowing if Chris wanted beer he’d drink beer, sense be damned.
“No,” Justin said, and he picked up the bag, ushering JC inside out of the blazing sun. “He hasn’t moved since his ass hit the couch, just lies there like a diseased germ coated lump, refusing any help and bitching as I force fluids into him.”
“You know you can’t actually see germs right, J? At least not with the naked eye.” JC said teasingly. He looked at Justin, noting the concern concealed under the complaints. “I’ll look after him, and make him see the doctor if he needs to.”
“I know. It’s just, I would have stayed but I’ve appearances to do and I’d blow them off in an instant if I had to but really he’s not that sick.” Justin shrugged and looked toward a half open door. “Plus you know he’s driving me crazy.”
“Which isn’t the main reason at all,” JC teased and clapped Justin on the back. “No it’s good. I’ve rearranged some stuff and can stay a while; it’ll be good to spend some downtime together.”
“Rather you than me.” Justin said, then dug for his cell when it started to ring, ending the call without looking at the display. “That’ll be Trace again; he’s been holding my ride until you got here.”
Suddenly Justin was all movement, hugging JC hard and slapping his back before hurrying to the door. “I really have to go. I’ve already said goodbye to Chris but remind him I’ll phone later.”
With a last wave and the clatter of the front door he was gone. JC stood a moment, taking in a last moment of quiet then squared his shoulders and entered the room of disease.
It took him less than a minute to see what Justin meant. From his sweat damp hair to the one yellow socked foot that stuck pathetically out of a pile of blankets Chris was a germ coated lump. If he had sense JC would go nowhere near, but when it came to Chris sense had long since left the equation and JC hurried across the room and dropped to his knees.
“Hey,” JC said softly. He brushed his fingers over Chris’ cheekbone and kissed him quickly on the lips, frowning at the heat of his skin. “I hear you’re sick.”
“That’s a lie,” Chris said without opening his eyes. “I’m fine, just taking a nap.”
“Sure you are, and that’s why Justin didn’t dare leave you alone.” JC said. “And why you’re burning up.”
“I’m naturally hot, you know that.” Chris joked weakly, opening one eye and peering at JC.
“You are that,” JC said seriously, pleased when his words caused a faint smile. “You’re also sick and need to take your medicine. I know Justin would have sent out for some.” He looked around the room, satisfied when he saw a bulging bag from the local drug store lying next to a pile of magazines.
“Justin’s over reacting, he always does.”
“Justin was trying to take care of you,” JC said sternly. He whapped at the lump of Chris’ shoulder and tried to glare, then gave up when Chris looked at him, glassy eyed and pathetic. “You won’t get better if you won’t see a doctor or take some over the counter stuff at least.”
“The problem with that reasoning is I’m not sick,” Chris said through a suppressed cough. “Therefore I don’t need drugs.”
“Okay, you’re not sick, but take something for me anyway.” JC leaned back and snagged the bag, emptying it onto the floor, creating an impressive pile of over the counter drugs and vitamins. Pushing one hand under the sweltering heap of blankets, he let his fingers rest against Chris’ arm. Then used the other to pick through the pile, carefully reading each box and bottle until he found something he thought would help.
“Can you sit up?” JC looked at Chris who stared back at him through half shut eyes.
“I’m not an invalid; of course I can sit up.”
“Fine,” JC said patiently and forced himself to remain still.
Slowly, inch by painful inch, Chris moved. “Told you I could do it.”
“You did,” JC agreed and he leaned forward, kissing Chris quickly on the cheek. “If you take this I’ll let you sleep again.”
“I’ve just sat up,” Chris said peevishly. “Make up your mind.”
JC clasped the small cap of medicine tighter, suppressing a sigh. “Take it and I’ll sleep here with you tonight.”
“Are you bribing me? Because that’s just low,” Chris said, amusement faint but still there beneath the layers of sickness. “But seeing as it’s you…” He reached for the medicine, swallowing it with one gulp.
Satisfied, JC took the sticky cap and put it to one side. Then turned to efficiently rearrange blankets and help Chris squirm back into his cocoon until only his face could be seen.
“I know you were going to sleep here tonight anyway,” Chris suddenly said, voice blurred with sleep as he pushed a hand free, linking his fingers with JC’s. “So don’t think your bribe worked or anything.”
“I’d never think that.” JC squeezed his hand and pushed aside the pile of medicine so he could fold himself comfortably next to the sofa, his head resting next to Chris’. “I know I’d never get the better of you that easy.”
JC looked at the sleeping Chris and smiled, germ coated lump or not there was no place he’d rather be.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-01-18 09:15 pm (UTC)I liked the style you wrote in before and I like this one as well. I think being recognized by your writing style isn't always a bad thing, especially if someone writes well. (Which you do. ;-) ) Although, change is never a bad thing necessarily, right? *g*
I love Justin at the end of his wits, telling Lance to call JC. Of course JC has to go to Chris and he kissed him. He kissed him! Even though he was sick. *squishes them both* So cute and yay! Thank you for this. It made my day. :-D
no subject
Date: 2005-02-12 09:30 pm (UTC)I'm glad that you liked it because h/c really is my most favourite thing of all. JC had to kiss him, he loves him!
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2005-01-18 09:17 pm (UTC)And how come I didn't see your post before? When I scrolled back down my friendslist just now I found your post in the middle of other entries I had already read. LJ is fucking with me again. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2005-02-12 09:32 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked it.
I keep hearing that my posts don't appear on people's flists, I've no idea what to do about it though :(
no subject
Date: 2005-01-18 09:32 pm (UTC)TrickC! *hugs you tight* Love! Love!
Hope James gets better soon. There's only so much of a sick mister a woman can take ;-)
also, if you're ever bored and want to make me an icon, I never refuse one you know ;-)
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 04:17 pm (UTC)Thank you!
Okay, icons. I don't know if you meant trickc or JC on his own so I'll offer there two JC's I was messing with at an earlier PS session. If you don't like no worries, tell me what you want and I'll get on it.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 04:19 pm (UTC)I'll learn to write one of these days *g*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 09:18 pm (UTC)*ahem*
I love, really love, the "coloring" of the first one. Soft, orange-y warm tones and the cutsie little heart, and the border. But I'm not too fond of the picture you used. *ducks*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 09:29 pm (UTC)No worries at all, I take it you prefer the curls? I've saved it in layers anyway so it can be easily modified.
And really, don't shy from being negative. I'd much rather you got what you liked.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 10:46 pm (UTC)Curls you say? asdfjlqkdjfklqjf !!!!!
*passes out*
I know I can be *me* with you, honey ;-)
no subject
Date: 2005-01-18 10:29 pm (UTC)That was lovely! Just what I needed today as I'm dealing with a germ covered lump in this house too.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 11:34 pm (UTC)I hope your germ covered lump is feeling better very soon.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-18 11:19 pm (UTC)and eeeee! TrickC cuteness. germ covered lump! total lack of sense on both sides! much cuteness!
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 11:38 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked :) I wrote it spur of the moment just because. I had itchy writing fingers and in cases like that fluff always fits the bill.
Btw, I was just struck by a thought. Did I tell you it's okay to use the flower pictures from your wedding? Because I totally meant to.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-18 11:39 pm (UTC)I hope he'll get well soon.
and oh! TrickC. h/c. there should be more of that in the world. it was lovely.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 11:39 pm (UTC)Glad you liked, thank you :)
no subject
Date: 2005-01-21 12:18 am (UTC)also, absolutely, and you're welcome!!!
no subject
Date: 2005-01-19 01:09 am (UTC)Terri-Luv, this was *GREAT*!!
And yes, I'm easy to please with TrickC, but this really was veryt very good. I don't think I'd even label it as a "different" style than your "norm", but it was very clear & clean-cut; the "normal" 3rd person past-tense narrative was maintained throughout, and it read very nicely for it. Did you have a beta? 'Cause I know
*beams with pride*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 11:47 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked.
I didn't have it beta read. Like I said to
But again, yay! Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2005-01-19 01:31 am (UTC)*happysigh*
}:)
no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 11:48 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked, thanks for telling me so.