Fond

You twit, I think to myself as I wait outside on the front porch for you to arrive home. It's raining, cold and wet and miserable. True British fashion. I'm longing for a cup of tea and a warm shoulder to rest on should I choose to fall asleep in front of the TV on my old, decrepid sofa. But you're running late, probably watching the brats in a detention, or fixing up the last of the summer projects. Me, I'm in boxers and a t-shirt, slowly becoming translucent with rain, and I'm waiting anxiously for you because I'm a moron and I locked myself out taking the recycling box to the end of the drive. When you come home, nice and dry under a smart black umbrella, you're going to laugh at me. I just know it.
I tuck my legs under my chin, shivering. I'm not so much cold as simply drenched, head to bare foot, huddling under the pathetic excuse for an awning outside our new little place, one on a long row of terraces.
I had to take another few weeks off school. Collapsed again. You were horrified that I hadn't learned the first time around but you don't really understand that I'm just like that, although then again, neither do I. You're tall and strong, tanned skin and a gorgeous, picture-perfect complexion. I'm lanky with ribs and hipbones jutting out, knobbly knees and pointed elbows, all angles and no fat, much less muscle. Always have been, a bit lifeless, a bit insipid. I don't know what you see in me.

I see the umbrella before I see you, flashes of wet black under the streetlights, and when you see me, you hurry over, umbrella over my head and in my hand. You pick me up, easily.
"You're still too skinny."
I explain the dilemna as your hands burn my back and your lips my cheek, my neck, my mouth, as you carry me inside -
"'S bad luck to have an umbrella open indoors."
- And find a towel and the kettle, and rub me down 'til I'm warm, dig out the thick winter clothes to stop my teeth from chattering.
"You're a twit," You say as you pass me a steaming mug of something milky. "You're a twit, and I'm growing quite fond of you."

---

Well, originally this was an apology present for *HeartlessKai, a sort of lame way of saying "I'm sorry I couldn't draw the old people you so desperately wanted. Is wet, young people snogging in the rain any good, instead?".
Then it gave itself a backstory and that was base on my RP with ~SushiBee, so this is also for her.
And finally, ~Willowanderer told me that "You're a twit, and I'm growing quite fond of you.", which was wonderful and I wanted to draw a picture for her for that, but then it just fitted in here so here it is.
So now I feel a bit cheap, drawing one picture for three people.


Enjoy it anyway. I'm sure that Vexen is too small, maybe he shrank in the wash?