Another one of the drabble thingies http://archiveofourown.org/works/10747113/chapters/23826039

"Did you know that 3 million tons of food will be wasted or lost, and around 25 thousand people will die of hunger today?"

I looked at him worriedly while he was saying those following words.

"Jesus Christ Dale, I just sat down!" I replied to him. I stared at him with utter amazement that he was able to say all of that, eye to eye with such a straight face.

"Unbelievable" I muttered to myself.

Dale took another sip of his coffee before putting it down, looking just at the right side of my head and raising his hand.

"Waiter!" He shouted, louder than normal.

A blond waiter came to our table,

"What do you want?" She asked annoyingly at Dale.

He smilled and began nodding his head towards my direction, indicating that it was I who needed something to the blonde waiter.

She turned and looked at me

"What's your order sir?"

She said with a less annoyed voice.

"Just give me an americano, and Niko and Grace (Mostly Grace) Invited us to a Camping Trip this weekend"

"Wanna come with, Andy?" Dale added.

"You came here just to ask me?" Andy replied.

"Yeahh but also I wanted an americano so.." I said to her.

"...Sure. I'll be right back" She hesitated slightly before giving us the answer. I can't tell if it was a good idea to asked her out, I mean it was Dale's idea but I think he knows what he's doing... Well maybe he knows what he's doing.

Little things I sloppily write

in my diary every single night

I whisper to the flame of my black candle,

               “Hey! Claire!”

               The loud voice is soon followed by fingers snapping together just inches away from her face. Claire jolts at the lunch table, knee hitting the metallic structure of the table and resulting in her fork sliding to the ground with a ping. She winces in pain, hand sliding along her leg to massage the throbbing area. It was bound to develop a bruise by the end of the day. Dark brows furrow over green eyes as her gaze flickers from the perplexed expression on her friend’s face to the pathetic-looking fork lying on the ground.

               A sigh blows out from between Claire’s lips as she pushes the tray of food away from her, no longer feeling hungry. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

               Tyler’s look of bewilderment altered into one of displeasure. He leans back until he contacts the back of the chair, slowly sliding down to emphasize his already inadequate posture. His brown eyes never strayed from her visage. “What the hell’s got you so occupied?”

               Teeth gently bite down on the inside of her lip, eyes plastered to the unwanted food sitting before her as her right shoulder briefly rises and falls in an uninterested shrug. She was hiding something.

               Tyler let out an exaggerated sigh, followed by an even louder groan out of frustration. “I can’t help you if you keep quiet, y’know.”

               Hand lifts from their position in Claire’s lap to run slender fingers through silk waves of raven-colored hair. “It’s nothing. Just… a little distracted, I guess.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I bet you didn’t even hear a single word pertaining to my adventures through the deepest pits of hell where I had to prove myself worthy enough to take over the throne.”

She nonchalantly shook her lowered head, purposely avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of her best friend. But her attention is forced when another groan audits from between his lips.

“You’re still not paying attention. Seriously, man, spit it out.” He leaned forward to fold his arms atop the table, peering desperately at Claire through black bangs. If she was trying to be discreet with her constant periods of time where she’d completely zone out, she wasn’t doing very good at concealing it. It was more than obvious that she was somewhere else other than the world they were supposed to be living in. And yet she continued to deny anything being wrong. It was pissing him off to no end.

When her eyes finally meet his, she’s adamant. “Look, I’m fine, okay? I just have a lot on my mind that I’m not quick to share with you right now. Can you just drop it?”

The duo engage in an intense staring contest, neither one of them willing to let up so effortlessly. But after what seems like five minutes, Tyler averts his eyes, fingers tapping against the table top with evident intolerance. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you’ve been really distant.” He slides the chair back, the bottom of the legs squeaking with the friction against the floor. Still refusing to look at her, he stands and grabs his hoodie.

A pleading look crosses Claire’s face as she watches his every move. “Tyler-”

“Forget it.”

Emerald optics follow his physique as it weaves through the crowded tables and exits through the grey double doors on the other side of the cafeteria.

“He never cared about you…”

A cringe ensues her body as the words echo in her head, caressing the front of her mind as a constant reminder. The voices have been taunting her for months now, but there’s yet to be a solution that lulls them into a state of dormancy. Always waiting for the right moments to infiltrate her thoughts and plague her with adverse comments.

“Stop trying. You’re just wasting your time.”

Elbows rest on the table so that head may bury itself in the palms of her hands, fingers gliding through raven strands to push them away from her face, only to have them fall back into place and curtain her features from the world to see. Perhaps it was better that way. No one else needed to bear witness to her demons. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth, chewing on the soft flesh as the small, churning blackness of anxiety in her chest blossomed into something larger. Feeding off of her agony and thriving with ecstasy at the taste of her woe. The perfect vessel to host such a parasite like anxiety and depression.

Tears prick the corners of her eyes, threatening to pour over the edges and trail down tan skin, marking her visage with water stains. In attempt to keep the tears restrained, Claire’s teeth had dug further into the tender flesh of lip to the near point of breaking the skin and tempting blood. Before it’s had the opportunity, she stands from her chair with abrupt aggression, wrapping her fingers around food tray and leaving the table, forgetting her fork lying on the ground.

As she weaves through the sea of occupied tables, chest begins to tighten, depriving her of oxygen and resulting in hyperventilation. Green eyes dart back and forth, skimming the diverse faces that fill the large room. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but it seemed they all stared back with scrutinizing eyes. Peering past her guise and watching the way hell writhes in her head. Pounding against the walls of her skull, the screams rattling her brain. Maybe they could even see the claw marks her demons have graced her with, casually lowering her head and tugging down the sleeves of her dark grey sweater to conceal noticeable flaws. As she passes the trashcan, she carelessly drops the tray on top along with the stack of empty trays, not having bothered to clear the food off of her own. Without another glance over her shoulder, she throws her weight against the door and slides into the hall as it pries open.

Claire half expected Tyler to be sitting against one of the walls, waiting for her in hopes that in the moment of solitude, she’d gotten her act together and would be willing to pour out her secrets. But he was nowhere to be found, much to her dismay. Sucking in a deep breath, she continued to walk down the halls, passing several people who were either stopped at their lockers or engaged in a moment of intimacy. She cringes as a sharp, shooting pain ensues her chest, the albatross of being abandoned weighing down on her body. It triggered the voices in her head, a multitude of words whispering across her mind as they attempted to drag her down. She wanted to succumb. Let the demons have their way with her. Tear her apart from the inside out until she was nothing more but a hollow shell.

Pathetic. Useless. A burden. A waste of space. The berates only intensify as she continues her trek through the halls, turning on her heels to walk into the nearest bathroom. Relieved to find no one inside, she walks inside one of the stalls and slowly locks the door.