Waste Your Time Here

[ASHER SHANE HOLDEN]

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It was one of those days. He felt like he had been in class for way too long and his attention was slipping. He’d already doodled all over his notebook and if he had his sketch pad with him, he knew that he would have flooded it with pages of drawings as well. But that wasn’t the case and as it was currently he was stuck in the class, annoyed with the teacher that they weren’t covering something more interesting. History had never really been his thing though. Because who cared about a bunch of old dead guys that used to own everything? They didn’t anymore and he was sure that most of them would have a heart attack if they ever laid eyes on him. So why should he give a shit about them? Asher flicked his hand up in an annoyed fashion and asked to be excused for the restroom, faking a pained expression.

As the teacher nodded his head, Ash snatched up his purse and damn near ran out the door. He definitely wasn’t going back to that class today and if they asked her would just tell them that he had died in the bathroom a bit and he was sure that’d catch his drift and stop asking questions. Of course, he just wanted to go stare at his reflection for a while and maybe find a sketch pad somewhere in this god forsaken building. He was considering a smoke in the bathroom too. What was the worst that could happen? There’d only be a few teachers on break right now that could make it to the bathroom and he doubt that any of them would come there anyway.

Asher pushed open the door to the girl’s bathroom, not even thinking twice about it. He used to go in the guys bathroom but people gave him shit about it half the time so recently he had started using the girl’s bathroom. They had nifty stalls anyway with more privacy and he liked that. He set his purse down on the counter by the sink in front of the mirror. He leaned forward to get a better look at his face and delicately ran a finger under his eyes, fixing the slightly smeared eyeliner there from wear. He sneered at himself for a moment before he pushed his hand back through his hair and shook it out, trying to give himself a bit more volume though it failed horribly.

Ash pouted slightly and snapped open his little gold purse. He pulled out his cigarette case and flipped it open. It was obvious that it was routine for him with the quick precise way he slid the cigarette out, placed it lightly between his pursed lips, and lit it up with his ed hardy lighter having lost his favorite blue lighter. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, the puff of smoke clouding his reflection for a moment but a smile instantly brightened his face. Honestly, smoking was probably all he had needed to make it through the rest of that lame ass class.

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TAG HARLOW WORDS 515 STATUS finished NOTES <33

[HARLOW SKYLAR MCKINNEY]

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CAN WE PRETEND AIRPLANES IN THE NIGHT SKY ARE LIKE SHOOTING STARS

( i could really use a wish right now )

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School, seven hours taken out of each day that were filled with useless knowledge. Seven hours times five days turned out to be thirty five hours total. Thirty five hours each week that Harlow McKinney would never be able to recover. Waking up early each morning was enough of a pain, but no one ever heard Harlow complaining. Without the aid of an alarm clock or her mother gently shaking her she woke up herself up each day at 5:15AM. Most days it didn't even take her much longer then a hour or so to ready herself. There was no need for Harlow to wake so early, she did it more out of habit then anything. Harlow liked routines. Something about performing the same schedule on a daily basis left her feeling comfortable. It seemed that as of a late she was scrambling for security in any form that she could find it.

With her taste in fashion it wasn't unusual to see her come to school in an attire that made a few people turn heads. Harlow didn't drape her body in garments thinking that the way that she coordinated everything would attract attention. The way she dressed was the distinct way that she chose to express her creativity that was constantly bottled up. Her parents frowned when they spotted their daughter with her camera draped around her neck or a stack of freshly produced photographs grasped in her hands. They wanted a more concrete career for Harlow, something that wasn't so shaky and uncertain. It seemed as if they couldn't understand that she found pure bliss when she shoved her face behind the lenses and viewed the world in a whole new perspective.

Harlow laced up her boots and made sure to pull the laces tightly and secure them expertly. Her bad was slung over her shoulder and she left the house without a single goodbye. Her parents weren't focused on her. Hell, Harlow didn't even have the slightest idea of where they were. People in the halls of the school didn't give her much more recognition as she slid past the tight knit groups. She wasn't apart of any set "clique," she made friends wherever they came from. The people she could rely on were few and far between. Harlow come off as stiff and mature and it seemed to turn some people off from her. The only reason people could ever place a name to her face was because of her involvement with all the school activities. People also liked to go "Damn, that is the girl with the amazing arm." She was more known for her softball abilities then anything.

Then came math class. This was the only class that Harlow felt like she couldn't even pay an ounce of attention to. It was only half way through the class and she felt her brain bouncing on the inside of her skull. Politely she raised her hand and asked to be excused to the lavatory. The teacher must have been shell shocked that Harlow had used the word lavatory, she just nodded at the sophomore. She collected her bag and silently slipped out of the room, she had no intentions of making her way back to the classroom. When she pushed the door of the bathroom open she spotted Asher Holden leaning over the sink to reapply his makeup. "Ash," Harlow's soft voice fondly spoke to him. He was like her protector and watched closely over her. Harlow couldn't begin to describe all that he had done to her.

• WORDS: some.
• TAGGED: asher.
• OUTFIT: click.
• MUSIC: i'm still here - cady groves.
• NOTES: suckish, sorry.
• LYRICS: b.o.b. - airplanes.
• CREDIT: holly @ caution