This story shall be Post Fang. Which was horribly depressing, by the way.
Max: Yeah, but it's not like I cried. I'm above such things.
Me: Sure you are *hides*
Me: (from hiding spot) I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! Please don't hurt me.
"No, Dylan," I said, dripping venom, "Go away. I'm not in the mood." I was not in the mood now, I would not be in the mood in ten minutes, and I would not be in the mood ever. His face contorted, trying to make puppy eyes, I think. Not so easy to look sad when you're genetically engineered to look perfect. I almost laughed at the result, but I kept my poker face (perfected from hours of poker with F-never mind).
"Go on, shoo!" Dylan shooed. That was the one good thing about him; he ALWAYS did what I told him to (unlike certain other mutants).
I wandered out of the cramped little safe house, away from everything. I needed to get out more and more these days. Stupid heart.
I fwipped open my wings (I like the word fwip), and got a good, running start. I knew I shouldn't. I knew what would happen if I did. You see, ever since Bradypus (for that is what I dubbed youknowwho, Google sloth names if you're curious) up and left our little family, I needed all of my time to be occupied to keep myself from thinking of him. What little free time I had nowadays always lead to thinking and remembering. And that always lead to tears, uncontrollable sobbing, etc, etc. And even when I wasn't campaigning for leader of the emo brigade, I was never happy. Except for- nothing. I was never happy. Ever. Little Miss Emotional.
And then, like I knew they would, the memories came. Me and Fang. Holding hands and eating ice cream.
"I choose you, Max,"
"I love you, my darling,"
At this, I burst into tears. Sobbing, I landed in a nearby tree (three cheers for the National Park Service!). Might as well get today's Weepalooza over with. At least I was alone this time; Nudge had found me one time. THAT was a good day.
"He's not worth it, you know," the deep voice next to me almost gave me a bird-kid heart attack.
"IGGY! You scared me!" I screeched. Spying on Max during Crying Time was an unforgivable act. He would pay.
"Woaah! Relax! I'm not going to go tell your Dilly-cakes about this!" he yelled as I pulled back my fist, preparing for a knockout. I launched into fist attack and…he stopped it. He caught my arm in mid-punch.
"Wow," I breathed, without realized that I was speaking aloud. How the hell did he do that? He's supposed to be blind! And how did I not notice him? Somebody's been taking lessons from Bradypus.
Then I made the mistake of looking up. Huge mistake. His eyes, although unseeing, were somehow boring right into mine. And they were beautiful.
Should I continue?