Sunday, May 14, 2006

RPS 1 - English

I'm going to publish this fic in English here, so you folks who come from Flickr can take a look at it.

So, I begin with the first installment:

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1

—Hi, Moni! How’s it going?

Scarlett bent and kissed Mónica’s cheek.

—Nothing, that in a hour I have an exam of Integral Marketting and haven’t eaten anything yet... I’m hungry!

—Ah...

—What you doing?

Scarlett left her purse in one of the chairs, near Mónica and bent to look at what she was writing in the notebook.

—Nothing, that fucking professor Millan asked me to check this works for him and he wants them before 6 o’clock. —She looked up and looked at Scarlett. —At what time is your test?

—At 7, but hey... first I need to eat something.

—Can I ask you a favor? Can you please dictate this to me? —and handed Scarlett the page, who sat at her side, grabbing the page and crossing her legs.

—What is it?

—It’s what Millan is gonna put in the philosophy’s test; one of his scolarship holders captured it in Word, but as he is somewhat an asshole, well, he asked me to check it out. And to tell the truth, I’m fucking tired... Can you dictate...?

—Fine...

—Hey, comme’on... if you do we go eating thereafter and help you to study. Deal?

—Ok...

Smiled and began reading aloud the text so Mónica could check the works more easily. In doing this, Mónica marked here and there the printed page, making some notes at the margins. She was exhausted, and had not slept well. Last night she had an event, one of those parties to inaugurate hell knows what and the modelling agency she worked for had called her to work in it. And know, in fact, she was fucking tired. She barely heard what Scarlett was saying. Her words reached her like murmurs, as if they came from far far away...

Suddenly, she slapped the pen on the table and stood up.


—You know what, dude?? I can’t stand it. I’m going to take this things to Millan and send him to hell. I’m fucking tired that he gets me to work and nonetheless he has with him those scolarship assholes that do not help him in anything. Give those to me.

She took the page from Scarlett’s hand, carefully, and as she arranged the pages on her folder, said:

—Thanks, sweety....

All of her blood crept suddenly to her head and blushed. What had just said???

Not looking up, grabbed the pens and placed them on the folder, unsteady. She only heard Scarlett’s voice in answering back...

—You’re welcome, Moni...

...with an exquisitely sweet tone... She had heard this tone of Scarlett’s voice before, sweet, exquisite, delicious... but she had her using it only to those guys she liked, or when she confessed to Ulysses that she liked him, there, at the University’s Communication Center...

..but she had never heard it being used with her....

She was worried.



But... about what?

—So... You wanted something to eat?—asked, still withouth looking up.

—That’s so...

She surrounded the folder with her arms and, almost without looking her, finished saying:

—Ok, let’s go.

***

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