turps

I like it too. It's fun and not stressy when it's only a sentence, or a few in this case :)

~*~*~*~

Normally it was feather boas thrown on the stage, sometimes beads or on bad days, bottles filled with piss; but never stuffed toys. Gerard laughed as he crouched, scooping up the rabbit with its floppy ears and velveteen fur, he held it up, yelled, "who threw me a fucking rabbit?" as he stuffed it in his pants and then ran to the back of the stage. He looked up at the riser, watched the flex of Bob's arms, the way his hair gleamed in the light, the way Bob purposely didn't look his way.

Which was fine.

Gerard pulled the rabbit free and threw it at Bob's head, loving the responding swell of noise from the crowd. He grinned manically and prepared to embrace that sound, to perform once more. But not before he saw Bob pick up the rabbit, see the tiny heart it held, look at Gerard with a scowl and the slightest hint of a smile.

Gerard ran forward, message received and understood.