#jjeh--writes

This is probably like a decade old but:

My eyes are great?! Like really pretty guys.

I’m really dedicated this year.

I look damn good in blue.

I think I’m hilarious (others might not agree tho xD)

I have a face?

thank you love!!

Aw, thank you so much! Five things I like about myself would be:

I like my hair color. 

My eyes.

My freckles.

My love of reading.

My love of writing.

I know I havent replied in forever and I understand if you want to drop me, but I am still interested. Just a little horrible.

“You’re a complete moron!”

It wasn’t often that Michaela yelled at him and hurled insults his way. That’s how he knew she was angry at him; how he knew he had fucked up. Even then, the insult still hurt - despite the innocent nature of it to some of the insults he had thrown about in his life time. He had never expected it from her. That was why it surprised and hurt him the most. His biggest problem, however, was that he didn’t know what he had said that had sparked this reaction. It wasn’t like he was lying about him not deserving her. He didn’t. She was far more superior to him. She deserved someone who would love her and treat her right - not him. A guy who could barely admit his mistakes and could only spew slightly sexist comments. Why was she so mad about that? “I’m- I’m not a moron!” He responded, flabbergasted and unsure of how to address this.

“Why am I a moron?!” He crossed his arms over his chest. As a frown settled on his expression, he let out a huff and continued on a little rambling rant - a trait he had began to pick up from spending too much time with Michaela. The girl who could talk for eternity. “Why does me not deserving you make me a moron? It’s true! You know it’s true! I know it’s true! That should be the end of that. Doesn’t make me a moron. Makes me clever. Logical even. I know the facts. So I’m dealing with them here and now instead of beating around the bush. I’m most definitely not a moron - especially not a complete moron. Maybe a slight moron, but not a complete one and-” He huffed, tightening the arms around himself. He looked like a pouty child in that instance. It was obvious that he was hurt by the soft insult. And exceptionally confused too.

“I love this song!”

The annual work Christmas party was back in full swing, the same time every year. With a flute of champagne filled to the brim and a forced pair of reindeer antlers again this year, James seemed pretty content watching the drunk people dancing and laughing from the outskirts of the room, chattering to a slightly drunk and averagely bouncy (for her at least) Michaela. His attention wasn’t entirely focused as she rambled on about the toys she had got Chester and little cousins and family she was excited to see this year. All he knew was that he was enjoying seeing her eyes crinkle when she talked about things she loved. The alcohol was working its magic on him tonight and that was why he struggled to pay attention to her words more than usual. He didn’t mean to be rude. She was just so- captivating when they were both under the influence of alcohol.

Hearing her words and seeing her slight bounce of excitement, James smiled and took another sip of his drink. It was something to ease his nerves while he took the moment to consider what he wanted to do. He had a feeling she would drag him out to dance at some point in the night. It was inevitable. So he took that opportunity to offer his hand, “You want to dance to it?” When she took his hand, he smiled and guided her to the rest of the dancing crowd. Slipping his hands into place, he gently began to move to the soft lull of the song. Of course the song she loved had to be a slow romantic one. And as he danced with her in his arms, his eyes looking down at her - he couldn’t help but smile and let the warm pink blush rise into his cheeks at how beautiful he had been thinking she looked all evening. Twirling her on cue to the music, he made sure to be a gentleman all the way through the song. “I like this song too-” He hesitated for a moment, before letting the alcohol take control of his mouth for a few minutes, “Or maybe it’s cause I like you-” 

“You’re so hot!”

By this point in the evening, James was just agreeing to everything his drunk girlfriend was saying as he tried to help her down the stairs and out of the house that the party had been held. One of Michaela’s highschool friends had invited her for a reunion house party and it had led to her getting very drunk. While James adored a drunk Michaela, because the sight always made him smile - he also worried about her. A lot. “Uh-huh.” He agreed, as she mumbled on about something, guiding her down another step. “I’m sure I can get you plenty of goldfish snacks when we get you home.” Finally reaching the bottom step, he wrapped his arm around her waist to offer her better support, holding her hand on the other side.

[text]: Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

[text]: Maybe.[text]: But I don’t want to now I know you’re awake x[text]: Shouldn’t /you/ be sleeping too?

[text]: EMERGENCY: BRING ICE CREAM

[text]: Oh no.[text]: What happened?![text]: So I can determine the sitch for which ice cream to bring! x

[text]: Just admit it..you missed me.

[text]: Maybe I just feel like spending my night with you.

[text]: I don’t know why.[text]: I’m not that interesting.[text]: But I’d like that.[text]: What time did you want to come over?[text]: I can buy some snacks?

[text]: Is teasing me the only purpose of this conversation?

[text]: Normally the shoe’s on the other foot.[text]: Don’t complain ;)[text]: But yes.[text]: Yes it is.[text]: And I’m enjoying doing it.[text]: Very much so actually. :P :) x

[text]: Oops, I brought spandex instead of leather.

As far as anything to do with me matters don’t worry about it :3 It can wait until you have the motivation/desire. But I’m glad you’re getting into your course! That’s really good!