Rating – PG
Disclaimer – Not mine, will never
be mine, ever (except possibly in some truly wonderful daydreams).
Summary – Maria’s thoughts about
Michael
Category – M/M
Author’s Notes – PLEASE send feedback.
This is another story I wrote just because I thought of the title and decided
it was too good a title to pass up (Cassiopeia Falls was the other). This
was the result of a 3 am conversation with Creedgirl while trying to think
up a title for yet another, still unnamed, fan fiction. As always Creedgirl,
you rock. The actual text of this story was inspired by my favorite poem,
Shakespeare’s Sonnet # 130. If you haven’t read it before, it’s a realistic
view of an imperfect lover and, like all of Shakespeare’s work, with the
possible exception of Titus Andronicus, it’s completely worth your time
to read!
Distribution – Take it, please,
just tell me where.
Rusted Armor – Part 1
Ok, so he’s no Romeo and he’s sure as Hell no knight in shining armor.
I know that.
He sulks way too much and he has this majorly annoying little tendency
to brush me off with his “I-gotta-be-a-stone-wall” routine, like only he
can do.
He always smells like he just chugged a bottle of Tabasco sauce, which,
might I add, is one foul stench. Not to mention his kisses taste like Tabasco
sauce, too.
He has no ambition and no concern with his education.
His hair looks like it’s trying to contact the home planet all on it’s
own and his clothes, don’t even get me started on his clothes.
Even he realizes he might have to up and leave at any moment and never
see me again and he kills something inside me every time he says we won’t
work out.
But I know he doesn’t mean it when he says he has to “be a stone wall.”
I see the pain in the back of his eyes he tries so very hard to hide from
me. And he’s kind of cute when he sulks, in a wounded puppy dog sort of
way.
To be honest, I’ve gotten used to the Tabasco sauce and it’s really not
that bad anymore. And believe me when I say that was definitely the only
complaint I had about his kissing!
And who says he needs ambition, I don’t really know where I’m going with
my life either. He’s really smart too, even if his grades don’t show it.
I didn’t really get Ulysses, to tell you the truth.
Secretly, I kind of like his hair. I know, I know, I like to tease him
about it, but it’s nice to run my fingers through and it’s softer than
it looks. What can I say, his hair and his clothes go with the rest of
him. I just can’t see him in khakis and a varsity jacket. The Gap look
just wouldn’t be him.
I’m constantly terrified that he’ll have to leave and I won’t even get
to say good-bye, but I’d rather be scared of what I could lose than never
know what we could have had together.
He’s got his faults and there are a lot of them. I’ll be the first to admit
he’s imperfect, flawed. But, that’s ok. What fun would perfection be anyhow?
I think perfection would be kind of boring. I actually fell asleep when
our drama class put on a production of Romeo and Juliet and I laughed at
Liz for crying at the end of “Pretty Woman”. Maybe most girls want their
knight in shining armor who smells like CK One and lets her borrow their
varsity jacket, but I’d rather have my Tabasco-breath knight in rusty armor
any day. He may not be perfect, but I think he just might be perfect for
me.