Your ideal man is Erik, from The Phantom of the
Opera. He's a misfigured genius that reigns
below the Opera House in his own, unique world.
He's kind of a recluse, but hey, maybe you can
help him out. He's a murderer, so that might be
a bit of a drawback...but hey, he's sexy, the
whole creepy graceful thing really does the
trick, and he loves you. You've got the pick of
Who is your ideal match from Broadway?
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Yeah, like we couldn't see that one coming. When was that obsession... eighth, ninth grade-ish? Yes, I suppose so. And Pet Sematary was... uh... sixth and seventh grade? Maybe that was just the Stephen King obsession. I saw the movie in sixth grade, I know that much. Mmm. I'm up to the Pascow dying part in the book. Brad Greenquist. Num. The problem is that I know the movie so well, I can hear the actors' voices in my head while I read. A bit weird.
Rachel: I'm sure everything will be fine.
Pascow: I'm not.
But he's just a ghost. That's why it's so wonderful. Or something.
In other news... Strong Bad email was pretty good today. And last night began writing beginning of a Snape/Lupin fic with guess who. And... yeah.
After a short time of silence, Snape changed the subject entirely: "Going out trotting with Black this evening, I presume?"
Remus' eyes widened slightly. "Sirius?" His entire body seemed to perk up at the mere mention of the name, much to Snape's dismay and irritation. "No, I believe Sirius is actually leaving for London in several hours." He shifted in his seat, wincing slightly as he put uncomfortable weight on his tailbone. "Before my transformation." He coughed, feeling small beneath Snape's cold stare. "It isn't a big deal." He smiled very forgivingly, ever the martyr. "I'll curl up in my office for the night; I'm so tired anyway."He lied through his teeth, all the while imagining what it would be like to rage through the forest all night with the moon overhead, the wet grass beneath his paws, and the sharp, lingering scent of pine needles in his nostrils. Moreover, he absolutely wanted to rip out Sirius' throat for choosing such a significant and deliberate day to leave him to his own devices.
"My, my, Black actually willing to leave you be on a day like this?" Snape drawled benignly with only a slight raising of his dark brows to hint that he was commenting on anything more serious than, say, the weather. Or the time of the month. Snape stopped himself from making any additional remarks about Sirius, as he knew anything he said would be construed as derogatory.
Remus covered the feelings of tension and irritation within him with yet another smile. "Oh," he said mildly, pretending that he was not put off in the least, "Sirius has his own life."
"Is that so?" Snape was deliberately slow in packing away the used items strewn across the workspace, wanting Remus' continued presence in his office for some reason he deemed it best not to examine. "You'd never know it the way you two look at one another. Almost . . . cute." Snape favored Remus with another quirked half-smile, and went to return several jars to the cabinet behind the desk -- where he could stop and get a good look at the back of other man, provided he didn't turn around.
When Remus laughed, it was like a sharp, single bark. For a moment, he allowed silence to stretch between them as he stared into space. "Well," he finally said, quirking his eyebrows at Snape. "Not sure what to say to that." One fingertip found its way into his mouth and he began to chew automatically. "Cute like lovers or brothers or friends... or puppy dogs?" He locked eyes with Snape, very serious, and refused to look away.
"Mm. I'd have to go with the latter, considering." He turned to find Remus' golden eyes peering at him curiously. He stared back equally thoroughly, trying ever so hard at boring holes through the werewolf's head but not succeeding. "I daresay all of the above would work. Though the former holds particular merit as well, if I'm not mistaken . . ." It was not a question, and surely nothing Snape wanted answered. As it was, Snape was becoming annoyed with the futility of his situation: Remus wanted that hedonistic animagi -- clear as day, and nothing would change the fact. So Snape kept his distance.
Remus tapped his foot anxiously. "Ah..." he breathed very softly. "Severus... perhaps you've misunderstood why Sirius is going to London?" He twisted to be sure he could hold Snape's gaze comfortably. "Sirius is going," he spoke very slowly, as if he was trying explain a new and very difficult concept to Neville Longbottom, "to meet a woman he has been in correspondence with for quite some time now." He sucked air noisily into his lungs from between his front two teeth. "We aren't lovers. Nor have we ever been."
*slight pause. And then interruption*
SMK7886: Now that I was not expecting >.>
DScull264: Always the master of surprise, me...
Because there's no way when, around me, Remus is fucking Sirius. Ever.