*
1:27:36 AM, and I am drinking caffeinated tea. Huzzah, my friends, huzzah.
David Tennant needs to stop with the inane amount of cuteness he possesses. I cannot stop watching Dr. Who re-runs because of him – or thinking/speaking in an english accent. I have problem, nbd. <3
“UM, EXCUSE ME?” I pursed my small coral lips together, tightly. “I need some assistance here.” My arms were crossed, my dark eyebrow cocked, and hips set to one side. This insulant slut was just about to see how intolerable her new roommate was of this borderline sex.
The girl bat her gray eyes a few times, brown eyelashes flashing, and turned her head towards me. “Oh. Right. Sorry. I thought we were alone...”
“Well, you aren't.” I spat, letting my anger out full throttle on her. “And being your new roommate, I would truly appreciate if he would kindly leave.” I tried to bring a calm manner to myself, but I was failing horrendously.
“Great, she's a prude,” I heard the dark blonde boy mumble as my less then lovely roommate pushed him out the door. I let my brown eyes roll, and made my way over to the empty bed. I found my bags of useless clothing laid out on the bed, and furry purple duvet covering it. For the first time in days I felt a spark of admiration for my mother – at least she had gotten me a colour I liked.
“He's my boyfriend, he's going to be in our room sometimes, I mean he's like entitled too, this was my room first so he's allowed because he's like my boyfriend – you can bring guys in her too if me and Chanson aren't in here, well I mean like if you want, but like, I don't know how things were back in Hicksville but if you want to get yourself a man here you need to like lose the khakis, like literally, they make you look like a grandma, and your shirts waaaaay to loose, and like what is up with your hair? Is it like cut funny or something – why is it up?...” Her voice was unusually pitched – high, fluttery and breathy, like she was an asthmatic who had recently been inhaling helium. I knew for that point on, I would cringe every time she spoke. Damn, I internally cursed, I had better start blasting my ears out to Journey so I won't have to listen to her babbler on and on like a complete loon.
She finally broke her grammatical horrendous monologue, and took a irritatingly loud breath. “My name's Iryna, like, Iryna Marrison. You know, Marrison chocolates? 'Cause my grandpop totally started that company, and like when he died from something stupid my dad took over.” She presented to me proudly, a glimmer of a smile creasing her lips.
I slipped my bottom lip in between my teeth, and sustained laughter. “I'm Malina Parlenvinski. And honestly, I don't care if your boyfriend cavorts around are room. Just keep him out of my stuff, and even more so – out of the room in general when I'm here. Keep your unpleasantry between one another, I'd prefer not to hear about your harlot actions.”
Her slate eyes narrowed, as she tried to decipher how exactly I had just affronted her. I watch her face relax a little, and I assumed she must not have taken any offense to my subtle insult.
“Okay, but I like have to get to class. You prolly don't have to go, since it's only your first day, so whatever.” With that, she pulled a short dark jean skirt on to her thin frame, a pair of gladiators, and then flounced out of the room, shoulder length hair tossing.
After regaining the brain cells I had lost during my conversation with Iryna, I began to go through my bag, hanging my new clothing in my closet in a specific order. It was set upon what I would wear each day, depending on the weather, my mood, and personal preference. I like all aspects my life as punctual and possible, including my clothing order.
My mom had allowed one teeny-tiny bag of book to be shipped along with the rest of my things, so I began arranging them alphabetically. There were only a mere twenty-three, so I soon was finished with that. I even organized all my cosmetics and shoes, even though I have never found a practically use for either.
