forum ¿One-on-one? {closed}

Started November 02, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

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Yup that’s great!

Alright lemmie grab the starttttt….

“He” woke up that morning, gazing idly up at the ceiling. He sat up slowly, his tall, skinny body aching all over. Like the aches he got literally all the time. He sighed at his legs, which were hanging over the bed. No wonder I’m aching, He thought for the umpteenth time, I’m growing out of my bed.
A little bell rang, signaling for breakfast. He rose, stretched out his shoulders, then skulked out of his room. Next to his nameplate, was a little stickynote, Good luck in Vistor’s Hour, Met! I know you’ll do very well!
Met sighed and grabbed the note off of the nameplate, then shoved it into his sweatpant’s pocket. He doubted he’d do well. Who needed a sixteen year old orphan?

Oliver rolled out of bed, he realized he was running late and he panicked. Today was the day he was going to visit the adoption center, and he needed to make a good impression. As a single person trying to adopt they’d look for any reason to not let him adopt, and him not showing up on time would be the perfect reason to deny him. He gets dressed in less than ten minutes and runs downstairs to his car. He starts his car and drives to the center as fast as he can. Pulling up and jumping out of the car he runs inside and tries to straighten out his wrinkled clothes.

Met glanced over at the crowded cafeteria room. Kids of all ages cheered and screamed. This reminded him of the general goodness he got from them. They had nicknamed Met ‘The Friendly Giant’ because of his looming height of 6’3. He always let them hold his giant, skinny, pale hands if they were feeling sad or lonely. He let them brush his messy, knotted hair if they were bored. He was one of the oldest kids at the orphanage, for a good reason. No older adults ever liked him.

Oliver checked in with the front desk, “yes…I’m here to survey the kids and try to adopt one..I set up an appointment about a month ago” he hears the screaming and noise from the cafeteria all the way in the front

The woman he was talking to nodded. “Hello! Could I get a name and phone number, please?”
Met walked into the visitor’s room but didn’t sit. He caught gaze of his comfy, favorite armchair, but he didn’t sit in it. He should probably go back to thr cafeteria. He shrugged, passing the idea away.

“Oliver Savvas” He says and gives his number, “when can I see everyone?” He asks eagerly

“You can see them right now! Visiting hours began five minutes ago. Kids should be finishing up now.” She smiled and pointed him to a room. “The majority of them’ll be over there.”

“Thank you!” He walks into the room she pointed to and looks around, smiling once he sees all of kids. He waves to a few younger kids

A few younger kids waved back from Met’s side. One had noticed him skulking and called a few of their fellows over. The youngest one was holding Met’s hand, making him crouch slightly.

Oliver sees a tall boy surrounded by younger kids, he walks over, figuring him to be a worker, “hello!” He says to the boy and kids

Met smiled gingerly up at Oliver. “Hi there.”
The kids chided their greetings happily, jumping about excitedly.

Oliver smiles larger, he looks at the younger kids and then Met, “you don’t happen to work here do you?”

Met shook his head a little, his hair flicking. “No. I’m an orphan, here.”
One of the kids hugged Met’s legs. “The Friendly Giant deserves a home, though!”

“Oh! Sorry, you’re awfully tall!” Oliver says, he was used to looking up to people, being very short, but not people much younger than him, he smiles, “how old’re you…mister Friendly Giant?”

Met glanced down at his big bare feet. “I suppose I am. The ladies who work here think I’m going to be taller. I’m only sixteen.”

“Goodness, I can definitely see why your nickname has giant in it…and i fugure you’re awfully nice based on the kids around you” he sticks his hands in his pockets, “what’s your name?” Oliver asked
He felt something in his gut that was telling him to get to know this kid better. It could be because he lost both of his parents around his age, or maybe because he seems like such a natural with kids.

Met glanced up. “My nickname’s Met. My real name’s Metaphorical Whembrooke. What’s your name?” He felt inclined to be polite and nice to the adult, just to set a standard and good role-model for the little kids bouncing at his feet.

“Oliver, Oliver Savvas! You have a very interesting name, much cooler than mine” he says with a laugh

Met shrugged. “I don’t really like mine, much.” His nicknamed reminded him of his mother, who carried around his surname. His first, reminded him of his stepfather, who was named something along the lines.

He looks at him for a short while, before looking at his watch and realizing how much time had passed, “Well, at least people don’t call you a gross food as a nickname!” He laughs again

Met chewed on his lip nervously. He didn’t like to stand here for so long. He felt like he was being interrogated.
“I like olives. They’re quite nice.”

Oliver notices his nervousness, he becomes self conscious and hopes he isn’t coming on too strong, “Well, that makes one of us” he smiles, “I suppose I should get goin’”

Met shifted his slight weight around and nodded a little. He silently ridiculed himself for scaring off Oliver.
“Sorry. See you around.”

He smiles brightly, “see you around” he waves and walks to the front desk, starting to walk out, but feeling the need to stop at the front desk and trying to get the woman’s attention.