Post by orinocoflow on Jul 13, 2011 1:05:22 GMT -5
so, i was reading another story called "Damian the Celtic Vampire" and I suddenly had inspiration to write this. i sat down, and ten minutes later i had a story. i'm pretty sure this is my last nox story, so enjoy!
“Oh yeah, perfect wave, gotta hit it just right…one more ripple, and I’m gonna be goin’ right through there…”
Paul groaned and popped his eyes open, turning his head to look at his wristwatch. The hands glowed a surprisingly early hour, and it was definitely not an hour he wanted to be up at, especially with no Starbucks to refuel on for the next six hours until they reached the next town.
All night had been spent listening to Keith tossing and turning, then Damian, and just as he thought he was dozing off, the blond had started muttering in his sleep. At four bloody o’clock in the blasted morning!
Growling, he flipped onto his stomach and shoved his head under his pillow, but all he got from that was a bruise on his forehead from his phone.
“I’d been looking for you,” he murmured with a weak smile, palming the cell phone and running a hand over the darkening rectangular shape on his forehead. Just as he leaned over to put it in his bag, however, the bus hit a pothole and he went flying in his bunk, slamming his head on the bottom of the bed on top. Ryan swatted him away in his sleep and rolled onto his other side, ignorant to the still-talking surfer.
“Be quiet,” the tenor hissed, but Keith continued to talk about the beautiful oceans and waves and the new board he had gotten…
“Only one way to take care of this,” he thought devilishly ten minutes later when sleep had yet to claim him. Grabbing his pillow, he sent it flying like a boomerang in the direction of that talking bunk, smiling contentedly when the blond awoke with a gasp.
“Wha…who…GHOST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs when Paul sat up in his bunk. The next thing the tenor knew, he was getting bombarded with pillows, notebooks, guitar picks, and…was that a stuffed teddy bear? Yes, it was, apparently.
“What is going on?” George called from the bunk above, scowling tiredly.
“Th-th-there’s a g-g-g-host…” Keith stuttered, pointing at Paul and scrunching up in the corner of his bunk.
Looking down, the tenor grinned when he realized that in his white shirt, white sheets, hedgehog-like bed head, and the dark circles under his eyes from the sleepless night, he looked like the spitting image of a ghost.
“OOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo,” he teased, raising his arms, but then the lights were flicked on and they all grimaced in pain as their eyes were seared.
“Boys, please?” Sharon sighed, brushing her hair back. “Some of us would really like to sleep.”
At that moment, Damian woke up and yawned broadly, mouthing “Are we there yet?” through the yawn. When he closed his jaws and blinked sleepily, the first thing he saw was a glob of white where his friend used to be in his bed.
“Ghost!” he screeched, sitting bolt upright, and the next thing he saw when he shot out of his bunk was a…
“ZOMBIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
And with that, he dove right back under his covers and through the laughter from the other lads, they could hear him mumbling, “Please wake up, this is just a dream, that was not a zombie by the door, please wake up…”
Keith sighed and flipped over to stare at the wall. A few minutes after Sharon left, Paul heard a familiar voice from across the bus.
“Gorgeous sun, new board, perfect waters…what could go wrong? I gotta catch this wave—”
Plonk.
The only thing that could go wrong is a pillow in the head to knock you off your surfboard in the middle of the ocean.
THE END
“Oh yeah, perfect wave, gotta hit it just right…one more ripple, and I’m gonna be goin’ right through there…”
Paul groaned and popped his eyes open, turning his head to look at his wristwatch. The hands glowed a surprisingly early hour, and it was definitely not an hour he wanted to be up at, especially with no Starbucks to refuel on for the next six hours until they reached the next town.
All night had been spent listening to Keith tossing and turning, then Damian, and just as he thought he was dozing off, the blond had started muttering in his sleep. At four bloody o’clock in the blasted morning!
Growling, he flipped onto his stomach and shoved his head under his pillow, but all he got from that was a bruise on his forehead from his phone.
“I’d been looking for you,” he murmured with a weak smile, palming the cell phone and running a hand over the darkening rectangular shape on his forehead. Just as he leaned over to put it in his bag, however, the bus hit a pothole and he went flying in his bunk, slamming his head on the bottom of the bed on top. Ryan swatted him away in his sleep and rolled onto his other side, ignorant to the still-talking surfer.
“Be quiet,” the tenor hissed, but Keith continued to talk about the beautiful oceans and waves and the new board he had gotten…
“Only one way to take care of this,” he thought devilishly ten minutes later when sleep had yet to claim him. Grabbing his pillow, he sent it flying like a boomerang in the direction of that talking bunk, smiling contentedly when the blond awoke with a gasp.
“Wha…who…GHOST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs when Paul sat up in his bunk. The next thing the tenor knew, he was getting bombarded with pillows, notebooks, guitar picks, and…was that a stuffed teddy bear? Yes, it was, apparently.
“What is going on?” George called from the bunk above, scowling tiredly.
“Th-th-there’s a g-g-g-host…” Keith stuttered, pointing at Paul and scrunching up in the corner of his bunk.
Looking down, the tenor grinned when he realized that in his white shirt, white sheets, hedgehog-like bed head, and the dark circles under his eyes from the sleepless night, he looked like the spitting image of a ghost.
“OOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo,” he teased, raising his arms, but then the lights were flicked on and they all grimaced in pain as their eyes were seared.
“Boys, please?” Sharon sighed, brushing her hair back. “Some of us would really like to sleep.”
At that moment, Damian woke up and yawned broadly, mouthing “Are we there yet?” through the yawn. When he closed his jaws and blinked sleepily, the first thing he saw was a glob of white where his friend used to be in his bed.
“Ghost!” he screeched, sitting bolt upright, and the next thing he saw when he shot out of his bunk was a…
“ZOMBIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
And with that, he dove right back under his covers and through the laughter from the other lads, they could hear him mumbling, “Please wake up, this is just a dream, that was not a zombie by the door, please wake up…”
Keith sighed and flipped over to stare at the wall. A few minutes after Sharon left, Paul heard a familiar voice from across the bus.
“Gorgeous sun, new board, perfect waters…what could go wrong? I gotta catch this wave—”
Plonk.
The only thing that could go wrong is a pillow in the head to knock you off your surfboard in the middle of the ocean.
THE END