Ambiguous, Infinite. [MILLI]

[TRAMP TRUMAN]

It was all a mess, an ambiguous blob of an undefinable thing – or things; somewhere, from the division of cells, or the swift tango of electrons, something huge, something unimaginable was possibly in development; the probability of the possibility was unknown – it could not be known, it held wonders, fears, centimetres after centimetres of infinite possibilities, dancing and flashing neon greens and reds, all in hope from breaking through the firm wall of probability, all in hope of crashing out together, no one less, no one more, or else – or else – …or else heap together into a larger, more ambiguous mess; the blob will grow, grow, grow, until it shattered the sky into unlimited shards, cold against the grass yet searing hot against the skin –

No, that was not it. It could not be that horrid. Somewhere in the back of his mind, bound in strong, tight woollen threads, something else, something much nicer, something not so ambiguous, something undeniably microscopic, was yelling at him with the howl of an angry typhoon:

Tramp, you’re an idiot! You shouldn’t worry over something so stupid, so time-wasting as a potential fever!

Potential. Tramp’s eyes snapped wide open. The sky-blue blanket felt ice-cold in his fist.

Fever. Tramp’s eyes trailed down. His fingers quickly dropped the blanket. There were droplets on his body – sweat? Yes, sweat. It was hot, burning – was he in a sun hut? No, the microscopic thing told him crossly, you’re still in your room. You’ve got a fever. You need to rest.

Fever. Rest. He let his back slump back to the headboard as his arm raced up instinctively to his forehead. Cold – no, freezing – no, lava hot – oh, darn it. There it was again, that undefinable, that infinitely mind-killing something or things; those cells dividing, those electrons leaping; ambiguous, ambiguous, ambiguous and big. His cerebrum slaved away, his mind whirled – but it was no use, he could not think, nothing could be processed without failure. Bloody guts, it was only one question, one stupid, stupid question that rammed him squarely in the face like a raccoon with Mad Mountain Goat Disease – was he cold or was he hot?!

The answer was still not there. Tramp remained stationary, chest too cold for him to function, stomach too hot for him to function, forehead just driving him pure bats. He needed a cure, curse this potential-turned-fever; he needed something hot for his chest, something cold for his stomach, and magic for his forehead. Slowly, ever so slowly, like a sloth, an exhausted snail, he brought his arms up and cradled hid head in his hands. The process of pondering was in action again, he just needed to organize his thoughts, prioritize all those whirls and whizzes into a tidy list and voila –

Hot, warm – pillow: the pillow helped, not by a lot, but it helped nonetheless. The faint fuzzy feeling rising in his chest was enough for now.

Cold, frosty – ice-cream: …he did not want to leave his bed. Perhaps his younger sister could get some – no, wait. She’s gone. Everyone’s gone. Rats.

Magic, Mickey Mouse, Genie – Lady and the Tramp: no, he would have to climb out of bed to set the film up. Not good. Guess he’d have to… have to… have to…

Lady. His eyes lit up. Lady. Lady. Pidge. Milli.

Thank goodness his phone was right next to him – always the saviour in any emergency, this included. The corners of his lips pulled into a marshmallow grin when he found her number. Ah, Lady – er, Milli, she was his wife – erm, no – his… soulmate? Nurse? Yes, nurse sounded just lovely!

Hello, my lovely seashell! Your Tramp’s got a fever! Care to get him some ice-cream and watch a film until he’s all better? Pleeeeeeease? Haha, I knew you’d say yes! See you soon, darling!


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Word count: 656
Muse: Copy&Paste requires no muse at all
Listening to: Out of Thin Air, from Aladdin and the King of Thieves

[MILLI ALEXII]

the day was quiet and peaceful, something that she had missed over the past few weeks. for once, milli was calm rather than being out in the open hunting for heads. after running into weirdoes and having to deal with her hateful cousin, just lying in the sands of the beach was nice. it was great to not have to worry about anything…the waves were slowly taking all of her problems away, they would soon be lost at sea.

that would be nice, wouldn’t it? her phone buzzed in her pocket that even her german shepherd had to bark loudly next her to let her know. ”sheesh! i’ve got it chaz!” milli replied to his barking with a smile. pulling the device out, the young woman flipped it open to see who it was. her smile quickly disappeared the minute she saw the name. tramp, what the hell did he want this time? really, that guy just couldn’t leave her alone, but it was definitely getting more and more difficult to just ignore him anymore. he was just so persistent.

Hello, my lovely seashell! Your Tramp’s got a fever! Care to get him some ice-cream and watch a film until he’s all better? Pleeeeeeease? Haha, I knew you’d say yes! See you soon, darling!

she read the text at least four to five times until she was able to completely register what exactly he was trying to tell her. this idiot. ”he can’t honestly think i’m going over there! it’s not like i’m his damn girlfriend!” growling angrily to herself that even her dog jumped from fear slightly. milli wasn’t going to deny that tramp was quite handsome, it was just his idiotic personality that completely turned her off. especially since he tend to be clingy, a little more than she needed him to be.

lying back into the sand, she watched the clouds trying to get the guy off her mind. she sure as hell wasn’t going over there to take care of him. if he wanted someone to do that then he should go out there and get a damn girlfriend instead of bothering her every damn time. after a few moments of remaining silent, milli sat up again now really pondering.

it was starting to bug her now. she could just leave him to fend for himself and she was sure that someone had to be home, but what if they weren’t? she knew all too well that tramp couldn’t take care of himself. without proper supervision he’ll probably just eat a crap load of sweets thinking that would solve his sickness. puffing her small cheeks, milli released her breath as she yelled out.

”FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!!” a few passers-by stared at her as others just quickened their pace. standing up onto her feet, milli looked down at the dog feeling completely defeated at the moment. ”looks like we’re visiting that stupid mutt today.” too annoyed at even say his name at the moment. ”first we’re going to buy some groceries then head down to the house.” the words were more murmured to herself than to her dog.

she wondered for a minute she should buy, as a person who rarely got sick it was pretty difficult to know what helped. well obviously soup was the one thing that she’ll have to make, but what kind? the girl remembered her mother forcing down onion and garlic soup down her throat those times she did get sick. really did help, but the aftertaste was just bleh. well, chicken soup worked just as well too.

walking along, milli stopped in her tracks just shaking her head. ”there is no reason for me to worry about this, just get whatever.” entering the market with a smug look, she bought everything that she needed for food and what else it was she needed for a fever. before she could make her quick escape, a woman had stopped her with a giggling expression. ”oh my! you much really love your boyfriend to be doing all this.”

”he’s not my anything! just an idiot who will die if he doesn’t take care of himself properly,” she replied, ”’sides, he can’t die…before i’m going to freakin’ kill him!” speaking honestly as she brushed pass the woman and made her way to the truman residence. it wasn’t far, actually it was fairly close unfortunately.

making her way to the door, milli pulled out her keys until she found the one that fitted the door. god, his mother loved her so much that she entrusted her with a key. if she couldn’t watch over her son, someone needed too. unfortunately, milli wasn’t one to really say no to someone in need. no matter how annoying they were.

finally setting the bags on the kitchen table, the girl wandered up the stairs and practically kicked open the door. her body glowed and it wasn’t angelically fluffy, but it was a little more than just electrifyingly dangerous. golden brown eyes glared darkly at him as she noticed him just lying there as if he had no idea where he was.

”you damn idiot!” stalking her way over to him as a fist landed on his head. she didn’t hit him hard, at least to her it wasn’t that hard. ”why? how the hell did you get sick? if i wasn’t in the neighborhood, you would be dead!” though she couldn’t see how being killed by her was any better. before she could say anything else, chaz came running in and practically jumped on top of the bed, but milli securely grabbed him by the collar. "don't get any closer to him, you'll catch his stupic." speaking calmly to the animal.

[TRAMP TRUMAN]

The pillow on Tramp’s stomach soon began to drift into absolute zero; although it certainly was physically there, it did not feel like anything through the material of the aquakinetic’s shirt; rather, it was as if he held on to nothing, nor was it much help in cooling down the torridness circling madly in his stomach – in fact, he could say the effect was starting to reverse; the temperature rose stealthily, like a snake ready for lunch, a mountain lioness stalking dinner in the midst of the African wilderness. A tiny groan erupted from Tramp’s throat as both arms flailed aimlessly for a short while – if only someone had stayed home!

No. It was here again, that infinitesimal something, that something that held no aura of anything relating to ambiguity at all. No, it gave his nerves a violent tug, don’t think like this, you’re going negative again. Think of something else, think of something you like, think of – think of Milli!

Milli. Tramp’s lips curled a little. Just a little.

Yes, Milli, you like her, don’t you? You want to see her, don’t you? You just want to spend an entire day with her, don’t you?

Yes, yes he did – of course he did! Every thing was fine now – well, nearly fine; fine would arrive when Milli arrives; she’d burst through the door with her body glowing in a sort of vexation only the female race seemed to be able to possess; the look on her face would be as lovely as a fuming ogre; she’d make her way to Tramp with ear-piercing, glass-shattering stomps; and she’d do something physically agonizing to him, just the way her chromosomes shaped her – in other words, just the way Tramp liked her – well, wouldn’t mind her; just the way she’d make him happy just by reacting to his text, whether in deep exasperation or in deep elation –

BAM! The door smashed quite brutally against a wall, atoms and molecules of hardened wood splintering into fine dust. Speak of the devil, here she was now – that glowing ogre of immaculate rage, that obnoxiously stereotypical tsundere character by the name of Milli Alexii. When she clomped towards him, when her clenched fist descended ferociously on his head, he could do nothing, nothing but stretch his lips into a jovial grin, a grin well rehearsed over and over again for eternity, a grin so perfect, so flawless that it emitted no sign of displeasure at all.

Yet deep down, in the core of his ribcage, a weak bone gave birth to the tiniest of cracks.

He knew. He knew. He knew how Milli felt about him – annoyance, anger; she was an exhausted adult while he was still a whining infant. The truth was Arctic cold and diamond hard; it pierced him squarely within nanoseconds; his clavicles seemed to shatter with that hit, and soon the world began to fall apart, dance away into darkness, waltz along distorted melodies of broken strings; he was a prince bathing in sour wine, she was the cluster of grapes that bore the wine.

Suddenly, all the universe was only him and him alone.

Stupid boy. Stupid Tramp.

Then the world began to reform, little by little, piece by piece, one minute one eclipse, tick, tick, tick, chimed the Milky Way’s clock.

“Oh, Milli,” Tramp smiled, shattered clavicles and cracked ribs veiled behind a casual voice, “Could you be… concerned about me, my lovely seashell?” At this he made sure to send the girl a playful wink. “Now stop being so waxy, did you get me ice-cream?” He nodded at the bag with false interest, “If you did, let’s watch a film together; if you didn’t, let’s watch it anyways.”


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Word count: 631
Muse: Lo and behold, the power of Copy&Paste!
Listening to: the last drops of rain pelleting with a special sort of masculinity against an aging window frame.

[MILLI ALEXII]

He smiled at her like he always did, but Tramp was always somewhat of a mystery for her; one that she could never figure out and probably never will. After all the pain that she had put him through (she’s extremely aware of it), the guy still clung to her like a love struck dolphin. Why? A question that has been left unanswered in the abyss of her thoughts since the day he proclaimed his love for her one random day when they were children. Who would have thought the blue haired idiot was serious? Certainly not her. There was no way in hell she would ever fall in love with someone like him, it wasn’t possible.

She wished that he would move on and get out of this crazy fantasy of them possibly being together. Letting out a sigh, Milli pushed the thought out of her head; there was no point in thinking about it. Tramp had his ways of going about things despite how much she hated it.

“Could you be… concerned about me, my lovely seashell?”

There it was that casual tone that she hated so much. The one that made her want to knock some sense into him knowing that wouldn’t even help. It felt like no matter what she did or said wasn’t getting through to him. Did he seriously like her that much? Honestly, in her mind he still sees it to be some kind of joke; one that she wouldn’t find herself laughing at. Not only that, but the nickname that he gave her as well. Seashell, and she wasn’t just any old seashell, no…apparently she was his seashell. Maybe that wasn’t something to get worked up about, but it bothered and annoyed the crap out of her.

The same hand she used to hurt him was ruffling the blue mess of hair. ”Don’t get so full of yourself,” Growling at him, ”I happened to be in the neighborhood when you sent me that stupid text.” Even if she wasn’t in the neighborhood she still would have came and he probably knew that anyways. Despite always having to nearly killing him all his life, Tramp was someone that helped her relax in a sense.

”Besides, knowing you, you’ll eat ice cream all day without actually eating anything decent.” That was something she wasn’t going to let him get away with. And I did buy ice cream, but you’re not getting any before you eat.” She spoke with authority letting her hand slip out of the blue mess before turning away from him to head out of his bedroom. Her other hand let go of the dog collar, unable to control the animal. Weird mutt. ”I’ll bring up some soup and don’t stick any weird thoughts into Chaz’s brain…I don’t need a Tramp in dog form.” Milli made her way out of the room as she shut it behind her just shaking her head now. It was going to be a long day, she could already feel it.

”Dear God, make this end quickly.” A small prayer to herself as made her down the stairs and into the kitchen to start cooking.

[TRAMP TRUMAN]

The vast universe Tramp Truman lived in held all sorts of people - everyone came in a different shape, a different size, a different mindset; even the most inseparable of identical twins possessed a personal, subjectively microscopic quality, whether physical or not, that marked them as different individuals. It would not be hard to find a redhead in an ocean of brunettes, nor would it be difficult to fish out a ninety year-old grandmother snuggly up against her third fifty-seven year-old husband. If one gave their heart into it, took two steps back and dived, one could achieve any discovery.

In Tramp's case, he had perhaps the mother of obstinacy right before his eyes; if not, then its daughter. Really now, it was just that hard for Tramp to pull a single vowel of peaceful affection from Milli without first hearing or falling square victim to something (extremely) aggressive. She - in his mind, anyways - was just so stubborn when it came to her own feelings; okay, he knew she did not requite such strong feelings; feelings that emanated from his psyche, only to be electrocuted before even reaching where it was intended had Milli been any less of a modern Bodicea.

Long story short, Milli rejects Tramp quite loudly instead of in total silence to spare both of them any potential humiliation that could stem from a simple, stupid I love you or a shrieked You idiot! Really now, she could have done what other girls would stereotypically do - keep an evergreen smile on at all times, sugar all those vexated words with honeyed lies and rehearsed dishonesty.

Never said Tramp minded Milli's - ...female warrior spirit, though.

After all, the more she walked the other way, the more he wanted of her. Every thing in the universe - the stars, the moons, the planets, the black holes - every thing would have to align in precise perfection for them to even hug.

"No ice-cream?" A pout began to form on his lips, but then - "Well, since it's your soup, I suppose I can wait longer for ice-cream."

Tramp watched as Milli left, eyes stuck like superglue on the back of her nape. The grin stretched across his face was now a crescent smirk of amusement. Honestly, was Milli secretly brainless? Of all things to have said, did she seriously have to say something like that under the same roof as Tramp Truman, seventh wonder of the world of subjective stupidity? A quasi-suppressed chuckle broke through his lips as he pulled Chaz into a tight embrace.

"Now there Milli," he called after her, regardless to whether she could hear him clearly or not, "didn't you know? The original Tramp is a dog!"

Another chuckle pushed out from his throat. Fingers reached up slowly to pat the same area where Milli's hand was just a few minutes ago. He could still feel it, the gentle motions of hair-ruffling, the soft sensation of skin against strand. When her fingers met his hair, when she displayed that tiny streak of tenderness, his heart hobbled, danced into jelly, left a half-permanent, translucent scar of sunset hot determination.

He leaned back, still cradling the dog, closed his eyes and treasured the moment.

[MILLI ALEXII]

Her cheeks were lightly dusted with shade of pink just ignoring the last comment. There was no way in hell she was going to show him her blushing face, probably laugh even more. Rolling her eyes, she found herself inside the kitchen just leaning against the counter. There was no way she was going to survive the day without something happening; either he’ll do something or she will. It wasn’t like she ever meant to physically hurt him, well, sometimes she did, but most of the time not really. Milli never really knew how violent she was until she met Tramp actually. He got to her more than anyone else, usually she could just ignore his kind, but unfortunately for her, he wasn’t one she could easily get rid of.

Did she like Tramp? Maybe, but she wasn’t going to ever voice that out to him. Getting his hopes up was the last thing on her mind; she wasn’t that cruel despite all the rejection she had put the boy through.

”There are plenty of other girls…” Murmuring to herself, ”So why me?” She wanted to know what was it that he saw in her…what made her so attractive to him. Nothing really came to mind every time she thought about it and the more she thought, the more confused she became. ”Idiot…” The tone, the word directed toward herself and she was a big one at that.

Pulling out the ingredients from the grocery bags, Milli figured that she would make ginger chicken soup for the mutt so he could get better soon. She began doing some chopping of the ingredients as the broth boiled lightly. The woman wasn’t a chef, but she knew how to do things as simple as this. It wasn’t that hard. After a few seconds, she dumped the rest of the ingredients in the broth and waited a little.

”Can’t believe I’m cooking for him…this is something his girlfriend should be doing.” She paused for a minute and wondered for a second about what she had just said. If he got a girlfriend then that meant she wouldn’t have to come anymore and stop taking care of his sorry ass. The love struck phase would end.

Gasping, Milli could feel a sharp throb of her heart. She must have been coming down with something, but why did the thought of him moving on suddenly bother her so much? It didn’t make any sense what so ever. She should be happy and rejoice if and when the day comes. There was no reason for her to be feeling the way she did.

”Hanging around Tramp is turning me into a real weirdo.” Laughing light as she poured the hot soup into a heat resistance bowl. The girl grabbed a pack of crackers and put it on the side, maybe he would like some of that as well…not that it mattered or anything! He’ll eat what she gives him and be damned happy about it.

Holding the tray of food steadily in her hands, Milli slowly walked up the stairs surely not to trip. When she opened the door once again she noticed two sleeping mutts. Did he seriously fall asleep that quick? Walking closer toward him, the girl set the tray down on the nightstand making sure it was nice and safe up there.

Pushing aside his hair, the girl leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, praying that he wouldn’t notice. Hot…” Was all she said.

[TRAMP TRUMAN]

Milli was Princess, and Tramp was little nameless Servant Boy. When Princess left, stormed out in rage, Servant Boy would do nothing but remain in jeweled silence, and gaze fondly at Princess's mighty aura. Of course, Tramp was, in reality, nowhere near silent - at least, never around Milli Alexii. Perhaps it was the space, the time, the existence between them that made things so dark awkward - for Tramp, at least. Whether Milli secretly enjoyed it or openly detested it, Tramp was not certain enough, not for this one - he was entitled to only his stupid opinion. Anyways, returning back to topic: the grand existence caught between the aquakinetic and the electrokinetic would be far too awkward if no sound, no noise, was ever made; thus Tramp could never stay wordless even once with Milli around, whether physically or as an image dancing rather cutely in his head.

With that being said, the silence that enveloped his bedroom, seeped beneath his blanket and stuck to his skin and the dog's fur, was broken with a dull spear forged by Tramp's nose. He opened his mouth large and wide and let out an earth-shaking sneeze, turning his head away just in time to prevent sprinkling Chaz all over with germs and viruses. "Man," he muttered apathetically, "looks like I'll really need Milli's soup." Again, he closed his eyes, squeezing Chaz a little tighter. This time, no words came out, not even a sound, a noise, nothing, nothing save for the gentle-struck-heaviness of an ill man's breathing, nothing but the division of mutated cells and unwanted germs in the interior of his body.

Milli blossomed like peony petals just behind the Moon Lady's ear in the core of Tramp's mind.

The door creaked nearly noiselessly; once again the silence that had formed in the room had been broken, this time by the clattering of feet, the settling of a tray. Milli, was what naturally came to Tramp's mind. His eyes continued to close as he felt her move nearer to him; with each step she took, the temperature in his epidermis began to rise, inch by inch, like a corpse transforming into a zombie, a Pharaoh slowly breaking from his thousand year-old curse in the yellow-orange sands of Egypt. And suddenly, ever so suddenly, never once thought of, much less probable, Milli's forehead came descending down on Tramp.

In an instance, Tramp's heart combusted, failed his entire body system, then returned from the dead.

This moment of extreme rareness was forever cherished, too. Subsequent to this infrequent, recherche event, was intense contemplation: Tramp's mind was now at the midpoint of Point A and Point B, A being yes, open your eyes! and B being no, don't risk her anger! Subconsciously his lips parted lightly for his tongue to fork out; it licked his lower lip gently, before his two front teeth came crashing down in the form of a hard, sharp bite.

Rats. He could already feel his pretense of sleep falling apart like stardust from a comet borne out of a half-sewn Black Hole. Slowly, bit by bit, as if peeling a tiny, tight-skinned orange, his eyelids rose, stopping fully to reveal two saucer-wide blue orbs. A sheepish grin pulled at his mouth as Tramp released Chaz from his overly friendly embrace, the pinkness that dyed his cheeks evolved into a feverish Pokeball scarlet.

"Well, hello there!" He waved idiotically, "what a wonderful s-surprise to wake up to!" His gaze adverted to Milli's lips, and for a while remained stationary.

Could this possibly be - ?

His brain cells shivered dramatically as the answer - quite opinionated - smacked him squarely in the chest.

Nah.

[MILLI ALEXII]

She didn’t notice his eyes until the words stumbled, clumsily from his very lips. Milli pulled away quickly, cheeks flushed madly just turning her gaze from him. What the hell had she been doing just now? That wasn’t like her at all; the girl never treated the boy with such gentleness as far as she could remember. Absolutely not in her right mind at all, with a small shake of the head, she shooed the dog away and sat at the edge of the bed.

Still, unable to look at him. She was embarrassed after all, but why was she acting like a little schoolgirl?! It was just Tramp.

“Shit,” the word left her lips quietly, “eat the damn soup.” Pointing at the tray still sitting on the nightstand, crossing her legs, Milli rested an elbow and leaned against it. Her long brown locks brushed along her neck almost tickling her, but she didn’t react. Instead she was more lost in her own thoughts to notice anything else.

She thought of things like, what if this whole thing was a setup? Milli noticed a pattern even if everyone else didn’t. Whenever this guy got sick, the family was so conveniently away for some reason. It never failed and in knowing the Alexii girl, they knew she wouldn’t refuse to come over. Sighing to herself, she realized of how much of a sucker she was. Then again, Tramp was the one who ‘called’ her over instead of this mother.

Still, she wondered what everyone was trying to gain from this experiment. Leaving the two home alone, nothing, but death and destruction was going to happen between the two. It wasn’t like they were – well, she was going to suddenly soften up to him. The girl absolutely refused to show that side of herself to him, and yet, what was with the forehead thing? She’d only done that to the children of her house.

Blinking, children. Turning to look over at him, Milli figured that’s how she was treating this man as. He was definitely a child, despite him being older than herself. And I was worrying over nothing. Grasping the thought and wanting to believe it badly.

“How did you get sick this time anyways?” This time, she said it tiredly. The whole thing was feeling like déjà vu.

[TRAMP TRUMAN]

It wasn't casual, it wasn't quiet, it wasn't calm at all. Yet Tramp was by no means surprised, or appalled, much less under shock. It was, in fact, annoyingly normal for Milli Alexii to react so furiously in the span of ten seconds - whether it was only for the sake of protecting her shielded pride or - oh dear - Tramp's mere existence, the aquakinetic was not sure, but oh oh oh, how he wished it was the first theory, not the second.

Never the second.

He let the tension fall. Couldn't risk doing anything when Milli's raging like a hungry carnivore. Not that he mind - of course not, he loved her - but he was not as stupid as the rumours speculate. An angry Milli was simply not cute, nor was she ever adorable in a ferocious state of mind. Even Tramp, the partially clueless mutt himself had to silently cower in fear every time the love of his life threw a volcanic temper.

"Soup!" He cried out ecstatically. The tension was gone; vanished; disappeared - he could feel it. All the safe. For now. "Oh, my little seashell, you do know how much I have a passion for your cooking, yeah?" He leaned to a side and grabbed the spoon, slowly - ever so slowly - raising it to his lips - don't spill, don't ever spill, else all hell'll break loose - before sticking it in his mouth. The soup splashed against his gum like toasty ocean waves, rolled and tickled his taste buds into pleasure, cascaded down his throat as if it were a waterfall of deliciousness. His tongue flicked out instinctively, before sliding over his lower lip as he squeezed his eyes shut in exaggerated joy.

Ah, Milli's hand-made soup.

"It's wonderful," a nod of instant approval, "as always." He then added quickly, sending the girl a dazzling beam.

"How did you get sick this time, anyways?"

Honestly? Tramp did not know. Well, more like he could not remember - the scorching temperature of Fever was apparently enough to provoke memory loss in one. Furthermore, a craving, a desire for one's most favourite assets would develop in the core of one's heart - at least, in Tramp's case, this was true. He let out a chuckle, a melody of brief coughs and hacks, a drumbeat of a chest-thump; salty water misted his eyes. His arm reached up naturally to wipe the tears away.

"I'm not sure," Tramp answered honestly, "perhaps it was too much of something. Or maybe I slept with wet hair. Or maybe I waited too long before showering after swim practice." The possibilities were endless. Still...

"You know, I'm grateful for you." He hesitated, quite unsure of how to convey his feelings. "You're always here whenever I'm sick. Just not sure why you've never refused to - to -" a tingly sensation of scarlet rose creepily in his cheeks, "- to - er, take care of me. Yeah."

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Muse: Okay.
Music: Kidnap My Heart - The Click Five
Notes: Er, I'm quiet certain I had this down in his plot page, but Tramp's mother bailed on him and his family a few years ago... do you think you can change it to one of his sisters or his father? Sorry.

[MILLI ALEXII]

Turning to him, she let out a heavy sigh. All the possibilities of how he got sick sounded just like something he would do. Shaking her head, Milli called Chaz over to her as he too excitedly try to pounce on her lap. Letting out a small yelp, she scratched the creature behind his ear. ”You really are forgetful…” She posed as if she were speaking to the dog, but the words were more or less directed at Tramp. ”Take better care of yourself…idiot.” Sure, she could have left the ‘idiot’ part out, but she was sounding way too sweet for her own good that it had to be said.

She didn’t really fully understand why she was so cold hearted toward him, but she already figured the thought of acting kindly to him had already long passed. It wasn’t like he was terribly bad, just exhaustingly annoying that she wished she could find the pause button on this guy and just take a break even if it was only for a mere five minutes. Giving Chaz a kiss, the Alexii slightly watched the boy enjoying the meal. It was nothing special, anyone could make it, but still he always find ways to praise her.

Silly, pure silliness; even an idiot could figure it out, soup was nothing compared to a lot of other things she made, but Milli never really openly expressed her cooking hobby. She wasn’t even sure if her family knew of it all that well. She ignored him when Tramp called her ‘seashell’, or to be more precise his seashell. There it was again, those thoughts she was so willing to ignore for the rest of her life surfaced up causing commotion in the mist of her membrane.

”I wish you would stop calling me that…” The words more to herself than anything.

Finally, the one question she wasn’t sure she was capable of answering or how to answer it without bringing up something unnecessary. Why she’d never refused to take care of him when he was in need. Sure, she could have easily ignored it and just leave him to suffer since it was his own stupid fault for getting sick in the first place, but could never find the heart to do it.

”If I don’t take care of you, who will?” Milli finally spoke, ”Your sister calls and bails, and no offense, but I don’t see your dad as much of a chef.” The words left her lips brutally honest, but she was sure he knew not to take offense since that was how she had spoke of others in general. ”I don’t know how to explain it, but I know I could refuse to come and take care of you, but I can’t.”

[TRAMP TRUMAN]

Family. Tramp had one, belonged to one, certainly more than acknowledged one. All the same, this family that he had been born into - it did not feel right. It was as if there was a gap between each member, even between Tramp and his niece, whom he adored arguably more than he did to ice-cream - well, at least more than the strawberry-flavoured ones. It was obvious - crystal clear, clearer than Swarovski - with his elder sister: he was invisible to her; in her eyes, Tramp probably held even less status than a decaying, half-eaten apple. Father would barely come home before dinner (almost always takeout, as the only Truman who could cook was Tramp's younger sister - and she was currently going through a tornado series of rebellious years, much to everyone's dismay), leaving Tramp alone most of the time. His niece was fine, an angel even, but she was far too young to possibly understand Tramp as much as - oh, say Milli did - which probably... wasn't much.

In simpler words, Tramp did not - could not - feel any honest feelings that would normally intertwine, connect an entire family together as a whole.

Though, perhaps this was a major reason as to why Tramp loved Milli so much. In a way that was, surprisingly or not, not quite sick or disgusting, if one put just the tiny amount of effort needed into thought, Milli had - almost - completely replaced the role of Tramp's birth mother - subconsciously, that is, and only in that microscopic, veiled corner of the aquakinetic's mind. He needed her; it did not matter if she somehow needed him in return, all that mattered - for the moment - was the fact that she had never left him to suffer the pains of Fever alone.

Still. It was far too much for his brain to take in at once. Lifting the spoon again, Tramp devoured another mouthful of soup. A sizzling droplet splattered against his right cheek.

"It's fine," he nodded, leaning over to grab a tissue for his soup-tinted skin, "about my dad's cooking, I mean. It's just - " the tissue crumpled tenderly in his fist, "you have others, don't you? Others to watch over, hang out with. Plus, you're an Alexii, you're eighteen, young, gorgeo - pretty -..." his voice began to trail away, and he let it go.

There's plenty of fish in your sea; I'm just a krill, aren't I?

"How about crackers?" With a faint shake of his head, he hastily changed the subject. "Come on, let's share!" Without waiting, his fingers tore the cracker-wrapper open.

Nevertheless, this krill isn't ready to give up yet!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Muse: ...Started well. This amazingly took an entire day to write.
Music: VOCALOID: Gumi: Forever Tears
Notes: Basically, by the end of this post, brain's barely functioned in English. Qiu is so exhausted, Qiu may cry. Sorry.

[MILLI ALEXII]

Pressing thin lips together, she said absolutely nothing. She knew more or less the situation with his family. The Alexii couldn’t say anything in defense because she couldn’t really understand the feeling for someone bailing out on their child; if anything, Milli was always the bailer, preventing herself from getting hurt by leaving. She had a family that contained both parents at all times even if she had spent most of her childhood listening to them arguing nonstop to point where they could have killed each other. They were still together, for some unknown reason.

Although she didn’t have any siblings, there were plenty of cousins to get along with or not to get along with also. Her family was huge, but even the biggest families can be the most dysfunctional. Milli wasn’t sure what to call her so-called loving family, but then again, she never stayed long enough to find out. There was always something different about them, too many secrets that it would make anyone curious. If anything, being born to such a family felt more like a curse.

Her ears perked when spoke to her suddenly; Milli didn’t know how to react to his words. Mouth open slowly to speak, but then shut closed having nothing to say. Others? There were others that she could be with right at this moment, but not many. She knew how damaging her personality was to making friends. At first it was a little depressing as a child, but now, it doesn’t even matter anymore. Even if this place was an island where everybody knows your name, it can still get lonely.

Eyes stared distantly just smiling, turning away from him. Uncrossing her legs and hunching forward. ”There aren’t that many others out there, besides I’m not good material.” Whether it meant as a daughter, a cousin, a friend, or a girlfriend; she wasn’t the greatest. Milli was sort of like a record broken into a million pieces, one that could never be repaired and even if someone did try, the piece would only crumble within their hands. She was extremely violent, stubborn, and full of herself; maybe it was the results of growing up in a narcissistic family or parents who had forgotten the meaning of love.

Even she tried dating once or twice in her life and everything always ended up in a fiery flame, literally. The girl had the scars to prove it, unconsciously rubbing her right shoulder where the scars still remained she could hear him calling her ‘pretty’ and just shook her head in disagreement, ”Idiot.”

Hearing him change the subject quickly was a relief to her ears, turning to him, she laughed lightly. ”Don’t eat too much, there is still dessert, mutt.” Her attitude was somewhat carefree, but it was mostly disguising the pain of the memory. Removing the hand from her shoulder, Milli plucked a cracker out and nibbled on it slowly like a mouse.

[TRAMP TRUMAN]

Tramp was entitled to his own opinions, therefore he did possess the right to have a personal viewpoint of Milli – a viewpoint which contained more positives than negatives. What Milli thought of herself – “not good material” – held no status in this case; in Tramp’s mind, all that truly mattered was the way Milli was presented in his eyes: loud and aggressive, undoubtedly, yet a milestone more than “good material” – she could be divine, she could be celestial; whatever she was, Tramp still regarded her as an object of dear affection. No matter how much of an idiot he was, whether in reality or just how Milli saw him, this idiot, this childish, retarded idiot, still, in the end, called the girl before him pretty, still believed in her when possibly the entire island did not, still cherished every moment, every second every minute, he had of her.

She could have looked pass his shoulder, saw another and desired them instead. All the same, in an odd way, Tramp could still feel as if she rightfully belonged to him – or him to her – or, ideally, both. Perhaps they were destined to be together – someday, a magnitude of decades from now; or within the blink of an eye, a ripple effect provoked by a descending autumn leaf, somewhere out there in the vast world. After all, it was Tramp who never hesitated to tolerate Milli; Tramp whose affection for Milli never once faltered despite all her negative attributes – in fact, such negative attributes could be possibly turned positive; there was no black or white in humanity; just the way one viewed another.

His gaze stopped briefly on her right shoulder. He knew what happened, it was no secret from him; he was considered a semi-stalker of Milli, shamefully admitting. Nonetheless, this childish idiot, drowning in love, was able to properly draw the line between adult and child; now he understood, that he must stand on the adult side, and leave Milli to herself; it was a sensitive, touchy subject, at least in his mind it was, one that he should not tread water for.

At the mention of dessert, all cerebrum-burning ponders were immediately erased and thrown away into a temporary trash bin. Dessert, oh how Tramp anticipated it. Raising the spoon again, he swallowed his final mouthful in a noisy gulp, nearing splattering his face once more as his eyes grew wide and shiny as his thoughts began racing to a general direction: ice-cream. The five year-old in him could not wait; heck, his heart – and stomach – was practically screaming in silence for a tiny string of a sweet edible.

“Dessert!” Tramp finally let out, pumping his fist in the air, before sending Milli a shallowly ecstatic gleam. “Dessert, dessert! What flavour is it, Milli? Vanilla? Cookies and Cream?” By now he had leaned forward, fever quite forgotten yet still lingering as a ghost, hovering delicately above his forehead, ready to wither away anytime, anywhere. Slowly, his arms reached out, fingers wriggling playfully before settling on the girl’s elbows, a brittle trap permitting jailbreak.

“Now,” Tramp continued, voice dropped to a melodramatic whisper, “I know I’m not the only one giving into dessert temptation~”

[MILLI ALEXII]

The tension of the room quickly vanished the minute Tramp opened his mouth in pure excitement to learn that there was dessert. It wasn’t so much of a shock that he would safely assume that it was ice cream; it was basically his drug, a guilty pleasure of his that she could understand personally. She was a baker so how could anyone resist the sweet smell and taste of ice cream and such products. Anyone who did was out of their minds and needed to be booted off the island as soon as possible. Even as she thought about it, Milli couldn’t think of one person like that who existed.

As a person who was beyond violent than a vicious thunderstorm, this characteristic of hers seemed completely out of place. She was wilder than a raging bull when it came to her anger issues, but once she puts on her apron; the woman seems almost sweeter than sugar. There was a long story behind why Milli got into baking, mostly had to do with her younger cousins always wanting to eat something sweet. From there is shot up, but mostly she does it has a calming aid. When she’s baking, she’s happy and smiling (for once).

Blinking, she noticed Tramp sitting up quickly and flicked him in the forehead, “Hey, relax, moron.” The words slipped out with a sense of slight concern with the hint of the usual annoyance. It was completely habitual; she wasn’t annoyed at all, but laughing at her blue haired friend.

“And its cookie dough ice cream.”

A simple answer to the series of questions he had thrown at her. The only problem she had with the ice cream was that it was store bought and that was not her style at all. “I also have chocolate chocolate brownies in the oven.” They were one of her best creations ever. They were basically chocolate brownies with a creamy chocolate filling inside.

Milli smiled happily just thinking about it as soon as she was about to get up. Fingers gripped at her elbows lightly, looking up at Tramp, “What?”

As the words slipped through his lips, Milli’s cheeks burned red. That tone of voice that whispered that he used. She wasn’t used to him doing something like that, it was pretty much the first time he had been that physically close to her. Well, without her pulverizing the crap out of him. She noticed a lot of things about him that she probably hadn’t noticed before. Like the shape of his startling blue eyes or how his hair shaggily stayed in place no matter how much you played with it.

Eyes traveling a little lower to his lips, Milli catching herself, she pushed him back down onto the bed. “You’re too close!” She spoke to suddenly, “You’re going to get me sick, stupid!” Jumping onto her feet, the girl did her best to cover her face wishing she would stop blushing sometime soon. “Y-You need to change your clothes!” Trying to remain calm, but failing all at once. “I’ll bring up the ice cream while you change…” Turning her heels, Milli rummaged through his drawers and threw fresh clothes at Tramp. Taking the bowl from the nightstand, she snapped her fingers at her dog as he followed at her heels; closing the door behind her, “What the hell?” She whispered confusedly to herself before travelling down the stairs once more.

[TRAMP TRUMAN]

The sensation of skin scraping against skin. The closeness of one soul and another. The way her eyes drooped slightly as she paused in the crisp moment of supreme rarity. To touch her, to secure her limbs beneath his hold, was more than enough to send Tramp's heart into a chainlink of vibrant dances; there was the waltz, slow and romantic, the beginning stepping stones of one's emotions, then there was the tango; fleshy excitement tingled, crawled, all over his entire body; stung his legs, numbed his waist, vibrated his muscles in a fiery dip. Finally, the cha-cha, in which nothing but an explosion of the heart occured, and not so deep within, a tiny pulse pounded violently like the drums of war.

And then Milli Alexii shattered the silence, the tension, with that feminist-warrior voice of hers.

For heaven's sake, Tramp cradled his head in his hands the moment the door had closed shut, what was that about, honestly? As if he did not know. The truth came to him both physically and mentally at the same time; the rigidness of a particular organ was indeed infamous for its cruel timing - of all the possible minutes the universe had in store for Tramp Truman, why this specific minute? He released his head and let free a monochrome sigh. Jeez.

All the same, Tramp had to act fast. Milli was, in the aquakinetic's world, more than sumptuous when it came to anything related to the kitchen - especially baking; she was fast, and Tramp was quite certain Milli did not want her precious chocolate chocolate brownies (at this Tramp's stomach erupted a barbaric rumble) spoiled even by just one second's worth of lateness - in this case, Tramp would feel the same way - after all, he, too, was going to savor the bakery paradise that was Milli Alexii's very own chocolate chocolate brownies, was he not?

Finally, freedom. Somehow the sole thought of his upcoming dessert had made way for Tramp's - firm, inflexible situation to fade away just as swiftly as it arrived. With a celebrative whoop, the nineteen year-old flung back the quilt and, though not forgetting to pump an overjoyed fist into the air, dashed to his pale-coloured wardrobe. His pyjamas seemed to peel off his skin as he pulled out a fresh set of day clothes: a sky-blue shirt, a pair of long trousers in a darker shade, and boxer shorts.

After donning his new hand-picked gear, and the pyjamas - soaked in fever-sweat - had been dumped messily into the wash-basket situated peacefully in the wardrobe, Tramp returned to his bed with a satisfied grin etched across his cheeks. Thank the lord, he had been fast enough; Milli did not barge in on him changing - or worse - during his unmentionable situation prior to switching sleeping wear for day gear. How awkward it would have been, had such a scenario really occured - ...No. Once again, Tramp's head found its way back to his hands. Just wondering about it was enough to send his hyperactive imagination on yet another roll.

"Milli," a light mumble finally broke through his lips, "Milli, Milli, Milli."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Muse: IT'S NEVER FELT SO ALIVE BEFORE, OMFG.
Notes: Dokidoki dokidoki I feel like Traaaamp~