“I would punch you in the crotch so hard if you tried to step over me..” she warned with a deadpan expression. Spitfire bent in half, barely skimmed her fingers over the tips of her shoes and stood up again, stretching first her right arm and then the reverse. She held open the door for Gilda, bowing slightly. “After you.”
Spitfire pointed up the road, where after some time you could see the pavement turn off into a pathway through a small stretch off wooded area. “We’ll run to where the first tree is.” She said authoritatively. “I’ll give you a ten second start.”
“Ready… set… GO!” She yelled out, the sound of her voice ringing in the morning’s cold air.
Gilda snorted a little at Spitfire’s retort. When Spitfire held the door open for her, she put her hands together and laid her head on them. “Such a gentleman,” she teased.
She stepped outside and then quickly stretched her arms as well. “Seems easy enough,” she said when Spitfire pointed out the finish, but smirked when Spitfire said she’d giver her a head start. Gilda was about to decline the offer, but decided it would be interesting to see how fast Spitfire was on land. When she heard the word, “GO!” she sped off towards the tree. She didn’t bother trying to keep track of the seconds.
Spitfire waited a good six or so seconds before letting go of the door and taking off, almost literally. Her feet pounded against the pavement as she ran down the middle of the street, stupidly confident that a car wouldn’t hit her.
This was harder than she expected. For all the junk food, Gilda’s long legs gave her a huge advantage, and Gilda was already far ahead of her. Spitfire’s arms ached as they pumped back and forth by her sides, and the wind stung her eyes. But it would be too embarrassing for her to loose, her athleticism was a gigantic source of pride for Spitfire. She growled out a string of expletives through clenched teeth as she drew closer to Gilda. They were both about three-fourths of the way there, with Spitfire trailing behind her friend.
“The cigarettes not treating you so well now, eh Gilda?” She called out.
broadwayflush started following you
drunkenlemur asked“Yeah, but you were already a talking lemur, so they don’t seem as crazy to me as they do to you. Who’s the girlfriend? And please tell me she’s a lemur.”
drunkenlemur askedShe flicks a droplet of brandy he sprayed onto her jacket. “Yeah, well.. I wasn’t gone for that long, was I? How have you been Jean?”
“Please, even you wouldn’t find this sexy,” she replied, “And with that point, I’ll take whatever shows my legs the least.”Gilda seemed unfamiliar with the logo. She figured it was probably some sport thing. At Spitfire’s commet, Glda raised a brow and grinned a little, saying, “And you’re one to talk?” Then she pinned Spitfire’s stomach. Although she knew Spitfire wasn’t really big at all, she knew poking fun at it would spark a reaction.
“Something tells me that I’ll have to wait for you to catch up every now and then,” she taunted. Gilda at this point was getting a little ahead of herself. Granted, her long legs helped her a bit in sprinting, but she wasn’t exactly to the level of an actual athlete.
Spitfire made a contradictory noise in the back of her throat when Gilda poked her stomach. “Nuh-Uh,” she said, reaching into her drawer and fishing out a pair of black running shorts that would reach to just above Gilda’s knees. “I’m a lean, mean, ice-cream eating, running machine. And don’t you forget it.” Spitfire tossed the pants to Gilda and snagged a water bottle off the counter as she walked to the door. She bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to go.
“The only way you’ll be ahead of me is if you break both my legs.” She said as soon as Gilda was ready to go, and flew down the stairs of her apartment, taking three steps at a time. “I’ll meet you at the front door,” she called out, nearly smashing into the wall at the end of the flight of stairs.
Gilda held up the pair of shorts in front of her. “I need taller friends,” she joked. In a minute she was able to successfully replace her jeans with the shorts, and stepped down the stairs after Spitfire.
“You know, or I could just step over you,” she retorted as she met her at the door. Gilda stretched her legs for a moment before adding, “I have a feeling you chose these to spite me. I will destroy you for this.”
“I would punch you in the crotch so hard if you tried to step over me..” she warned with a deadpan expression. Spitfire bent in half, barely skimmed her fingers over the tips of her shoes and stood up again, stretching first her right arm and then the reverse. She held open the door for Gilda, bowing slightly. “After you.”
Spitfire pointed up the road, where after some time you could see the pavement turn off into a pathway through a small stretch off wooded area. “We’ll run to where the first tree is.” She said authoritatively. “I’ll give you a ten second start.”
“Ready… set… GO!” She yelled out, the sound of her voice ringing in the morning’s cold air.
“Please, even you wouldn’t find this sexy,” she replied, “And with that point, I’ll take whatever shows my legs the least.”Gilda seemed unfamiliar with the logo. She figured it was probably some sport thing. At Spitfire’s commet, Glda raised a brow and grinned a little, saying, “And you’re one to talk?” Then she pinned Spitfire’s stomach. Although she knew Spitfire wasn’t really big at all, she knew poking fun at it would spark a reaction.
“Something tells me that I’ll have to wait for you to catch up every now and then,” she taunted. Gilda at this point was getting a little ahead of herself. Granted, her long legs helped her a bit in sprinting, but she wasn’t exactly to the level of an actual athlete.
Spitfire made a contradictory noise in the back of her throat when Gilda poked her stomach. “Nuh-Uh,” she said, reaching into her drawer and fishing out a pair of black running shorts that would reach to just above Gilda’s knees. “I’m a lean, mean, ice-cream eating, running machine. And don’t you forget it.” Spitfire tossed the pants to Gilda and snagged a water bottle off the counter as she walked to the door. She bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to go.
“The only way you’ll be ahead of me is if you break both my legs.” She said as soon as Gilda was ready to go, and flew down the stairs of her apartment, taking three steps at a time. “I’ll meet you at the front door,” she called out, nearly smashing into the wall at the end of the flight of stairs.
(Source: not-griffon-a-fuck)
“Oh God… please don’t make me go out in public like this again,” she said when Spitfire wiggled her eyebrows.“I’m guessing you wouldn’t be serving bacon and eggs? Or waffles?” Gilda asked hopefully, but she was doubtful nonetheless.
Gilda had considered the idea of going home before. Eventually, she’d have to go back to feed Roxy, but she’d had left plenty of food out for her before they headed to Spitfire’s parents’ house. And while the idea of a morning jog wasn’t particularly appealing, Gilda thought it was better than going home to do nothing. At least until work started.
“Me, wimpy? It sounds like you’re trying to challenge me, Spitfire.”
Spitfire took the last remaining spoonful of cereal that remained in her bowel, stuffing it into her left cheek. “Wearing sexy pants has scientifically been proven to improve dexterity.” She said in an authoritative voice, the cereal muffling her speaking. Into the sink went her bowl, making a loud ‘clink’ against the other dishes. Spitfire had obviously been neglecting her chores since hanging out with Gilda and a substantial amount of filth was spread throughout her home in the form of clothes, silverware, a six pack of cheep beer propped up on it’s side next to her bedroom door.
“Which is why I have to change as well.” She finished. “If you wanted to borrow a pair of sweatpants or something, that’d be fine. … They’re going to stop at your knees or something, because you’re around- what, five, six inches taller than me?” She opened the door to her room, still keeping the conversation going through the open doorway as she pulled on some spandex running shorts and a blue hoodie with the Wonderbolts logo emblazoned on the front and back.
“I keep it because it’s expensive.” She explained with a blush. It seemed downright embarrassing to be wearing the signature jacket of a running team she was kicked off of. “It was a challenge!” She said, happy to not pursue the subject of her jacket. “I just think you’re not man enough to handle a little jog. Too many drinks, to many drugstore hotdogs, eh Gilda?”
So for some reason, I can’t answer any of my asks. But it turns out I’m askpastel’s 350th follower! Which is great, and I’m happy to be following them. No clue why it took so long to find them.
“Nah, just don’t get in my way the next time I’m all grumpy. And why doesn’t it surprise me that you don’t know what Kindergarten is..” She said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head affectionately. It was good to not be mad at Jean anymore.“If kindergarten taught me anything, it was that you can’t make apologies without knowing what you did. That being said.. I forgive you for making me mad. I guess I just wanted to wallow in self-pity for a bit.” She grimaced, embarrassed at how she had been acting a few days prior.
“I mean, you kind of put a damper on my damper.”
“What’s kindergarten? Anyway, I’m sorry for interrupting your private time. That’s what I should apologize for, right?”
Stop by and talk to me if you aren't too intimidated by my good looks and charm.
