TITLE: The Road Almost As Frequently Traveled
AUTHOR/FB etc: email@example.com
PAIRING/RATING: None (Nic POV)/PG-13 (F-word)
SUMMARY: Brief look at Nicole's innerworkings...
A/N: Another quick one-off sans beta/spellcheck.
"Sigh" Nicole heaved, "Melancholy is so depremental to the complexion..." She was mentally lost in all the fine female flesh surrounding her in Chem class. So much in fact, that she could barely concentrate on the semester final exam her classmates were agonizing over--of course, she already had the answer key, but that's another story.
"Should I follow my ~HEAD~?" she contemplated as her eyes slowly, lustfully swept up Mary Cherry's substantial assests. The girl had some meat on her bones, for sure. Physically alluring, if one could look beyond the "social spaz" surface. Having probed the befuddled blonde's psyche, and weighing out the countless phobias, Nic was sure she could fake a modicum of sincere interest. To which she was certain Mary Cherry would respond with eternal gratitude--and the eternal graditude of someone heir to "more money than God" --well, another check in the plus column...Could she be happy as a kept woman? Her mind wanders to visions of mansions, Maserattis, mink...what was the question? Worst case scenerio--California was adapting some very liberal palimony community-property statutes...
"Or should I follow my ~HEART~?" she inwardly groaned, focusing on the object of her life-long adoration and lust. Brooke McQueen unconsiously hooks a wayward strand of straight, baby-fine blond hair behind her ear as she's lost in concentration. Nicole is lost, imaging herself nuzzling against/nibbling on the statuesque blonde's cheek & ear...tracing that long, graceful neck w/kisses...Of course Nicole knew her feelings would never be fully reciprocated, she would be just another distraction, another plaything to the blonde goddess. Even now Brooke enjoyed toying with her emotions, teasing her mercilessly with her oblivious, innocent front. All the while wielding her passive/aggresive wish-list, knowing Nicole would do anything to please her...Nic, no stranger to manipulation herself, realized she was being used but basked in ~any~ attention the object of her desire bestowed upon her. Was she a sick, masochistic puppy? Probably. Was she niave enough to believe her undying loyalty and devotion would eventually be valued and returned. Duh. "But," the petite blonde sighed to herself, as she watched Brooke stretch, flip her hair and cast a glance back to make sure Nicole was still worshipping her, "if I'd be anybody's dog..."
Brooke's movement caused the ever-studious Sam McPherson to glance up from her obvious struggles...Nicole's gaze shifting/intensifying as if she were trying to burn holes in the caustic correspodent. What was she doing in Nicole's rightful seat anyway? Idly fanning her pencil while her simple mind perplexed over Question #3...Yeah, Hiya Hun, there's like 5 minutes left, you might at least glance at the next 4 pages. Oh thumb rings--how trendy! And what's with the close cropped fingernails...no... you think? Nic's gaze wandered up the brunette's thin arm, sent a visual signal to smirk-command as it encountered the incredibly un-chic T-shirt which unduly flattered the appalling pancakedness of Spam's chest. Her eyes drawn magnetically to the eyesore McRatsnest. Alternatingly fluffy, flat, frizzled and just plain fucked. Nicole imagined sinking her hands into that hideous mop clutching thick, crunchy handfuls...Suddenly Sam glanced back, doing a surprised double-take as Nicole quickly looked away. Busted. She braved a peek back and was instantly mesmerized by Sam's huge bright baby browns gazing back at her under heavy (and heavily masscara'd) lids...The brunette turned away shyly, but slowly glanced back again. Nicole could swear she heard the popping of her brain's short-curcuiting, stranding her body in this staring, gapeing trance. Sam turned back to her paper as The Claw announced the 2 minute warning. Sitting slightly profile now (when had she moved?) Nicole studied the brunette's comical concentration; tounge animated with a life of it's own as it wet and circled those glossy pink lips. Poked and prodded at cheeks and gums. Absent-minded little "clucking" noises off the roof of that amazing mouth...Suddenly back to handfuls of hair, Nicole imagined roughly tugging that henious harpy's face up to meet her own. Lips locking. Manipulating that majic tounge into her own mouth by any means necessary--teasing, playful, mutual exchange or uncurling it with some full-on Hoover action...Bio Glass interrupted Nicole's pleasure-train of thought by snagging everyone's test papers seconds before the bell rang. Amidst the rumble of everyone's desperate escapes, Sam turned once more to Nicole, eyes bright, smile simultaneously coquettish and devilish. Blink, or was that a wink...?
"Fuck it," Nicole grinned, enjoying the view of the brunette walking away, "I'm going with the ~HORMONES~."