Disclaimer: I own not.

Ok, this is way over due. Like, seriously overdue. But I am alive –I’m alive I’m alive I am so alive-. And when I’m stuck on a prompt, I revert to a poem. So here’s a poem and now I can work on the next prompt!

Prompt: M for Muse

Rating: K

Too early in the morning,
Hänschen sits in his room.
He’s going to get angry,
If Ernst doesn’t come home soon.

The house is silent,
It’s half past four,
There’s no footsteps or laughter,
No knock on the door.

It’s that stupid artist,
Calling ‘Ernst-y’ his muse.
Hänschen always let it slide,
But this blew his last fuse.

They should’ve not come here,
No, not at all…
But then Hänschen remembers,
Its better then behind their parents’ walls.

Hänschen jumps up from his bed,
That artist will be punished tonight.
He will kill him or hurt him,
Even if Ernst puts up a fight.

Like clockwork Hänschen hears footsteps,
And hears some keys jingle.
As he hears the door creak,
His stomach begins to tingle.

Hänschen runs to the door,
Give Ernst his famous Rilow Glare.
But still nearly melts,
With Ernst standing there.

Ernst hides something behind his back,
Looks down at the floor.
Shifts from leg to leg,
Then shuts the door.

He whispers, “I’m sorry.
It won’t happen again.
I needed a favor,
And he was a friend.

“He gave me paints and space,
(I had money to pay.)
All so I could make you something
For your birthday today.

Ernst reveals what’s behind his back,
And Hänschen gasps in surprise.
It’s the most beautiful painting he’s ever seen!
Hänschen almost cries.

Well yeah. That’s it. And oh, look at my next prompt. N for Nude…

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*dies of laughter*

Candy dot glue dot candyglue

P.S. Thanks Rachel for telling me to suck it up, and write! Or however you said it…yeah…