Post by arthurwilde on May 26, 2013 4:29:39 GMT -8
word count: 000 words. speech: arthur, ~. notes: Notes here.
Without a doubt, it could be said that there were more important things that Arthur should have been doing with his day... but Arthur wouldn't be the one to say them this time. Focus on 'more important things' had been the way of his world for months now, and as he had decided the night before, it was time to cut loose a little and relearn the ways of the Fun. Thus, par-tee. Any party would have done. He wasn't even one-hundred percent sure which House he was in, nor did he much care. All Arthur knew was that some of the students he shared his dorm floor with- those who treated UCLA as a party school and little else- had been talking about it, and a quick question to the right person had led him to a large frat along the edge of campus, full of music, and drink, and life. It was actually a little sad that he had to ask. There had been a time when he would have known about something so big on the very day the plans were made. But that time was over two years past, before the therapy, and the buckling down that he'd managed so that he could get into UCLA - which might or might not have been a party school depending on who you asked - in the first place.
And now Arthur was feeling unusually uncomfortable. Those two years before graduation had only dampened his ability to party. Now it seemed just two quarters of college had nearly killed it. Well wasn't that all kinds of backward. The blond had tried to mingle, and tried to flirt, sipping from his cup and moving from room to room, only briefly tempted by the 2-man game of flip cup going on in a corner - but it just wasn't the same. He eventually put it down to his not knowing anyone there. He usually came with people. People that he knew. Friends. God what had he been thinking, coming to school and spending all his time learning? With a chuckle into his drink, he prepared to sit it down and go in search of the front door and exit... but then he saw the man.
He knew that guy! Didn't he? Narrowing bright green eyes in suspicion - directed at his own memory and not the man he might have but probably didn't really know - Arthur moved a little closer so that his line of sight wasn't blocked by quite so many bodies. Yes, he definitely knew that guy. They hadn't exactly met of course. Arthur had been touring that apartment building - the nice-ish one, and the only one like it that he thought he could afford - had run to the restroom. On the way back he'd turned a corner and BAM. It wasn't that violent of a collison, more of a shoulder bump that had set him stumbling for a couple of feet. He'd had one look at the man's face before he murmured a hurried apology, flashed a smile, and was on his way. Strange that he'd run into him again at that party of all places, and so soon.
For a moment, Arthur hesitated, glancing between the not-entirely-a-stranger - whose eyes he suddenly remembered being extremely blue - and the door he'd been thinking of slipping out of just a minute ago... and then shrugged to himself. "Why not?" He was curious as to if he'd be remembered in turn. Turning and taking those few steps back to reclaim his drink, he discovered that it had vanished in the time between his sitting it down and returning for it, so when he finally did begin approaching the blue-eyed blond on the edges of the party - a place that Arthur had found himself falling back to several times since he'd arrived- it was without a drink to keep his throat wet. Probably for the best. As 'well' as the party had been going for him so far, any serious drinking might have just left him depressed, which sometimes happened. So he moved in, drink-less, trying not to come off as too predatory.
