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This Isn't My Diary, This Is Me Talking To Myself About A Certain Guy by rustyHalo
Homestuck
4 May 2013
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Summary
“Mister, Mister!”
You look down and see a little boy pulling on your pants. You blink at him as he keeps tugging at your jeans and beckons you to come closer.
“What? What is it?” You kneel down on one knee so that he could tiptoe to your ear. You’re kind of edgy with doing this because, duh. Random kid. You in your black parka and cargo pants. In the playground.
Jeez, moms are looking at you already.
He cups both small, chubby hands around his lips and whispers in your ear.
“He likes you.”
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Your name is Dave Strider and you would be knocked off your ironic granny rocker by things yet to come.
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An autumn afternoon teatime. An irresistible craving. And honey-glazed donuts.
- Words:
- 1,757
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Hits:
- 8
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Summary
See, there are those really cool and underrated vendo machines in the corner. They sell iced coffee and cola and chocolates and snacks and stuff. The best part is that they never run out (Dave says you never see it run out but you say never! Never!) and are cheap as… Uh, the metaphor Dave used was “cheap as hookers.”
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"Ikaw ba ay nahihibang na, Ginoong Ibarra, at naka-ngisi ka nang mag-isa?" Tanong ng pilyong Elias mula sa siesta nito.
