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hello, I love

a) Fic, at present, to vary b) Fruk is a way I feel like it, and I'm so cool I've also published by FF c) fled, you are in time d) The title comes as a reference to the song God Save the Queen , yes e) Nothing explicit, discomfort with this more than anything f) Or because I did not want g) Dido's Lament is an aria that belongs to the opera Dido and Aeneas of Purcell. Music English classic. I know that out of tune, but ... was precisely the idea of the fic. Out of tune. Make the dawn of the character of Arthur who frequent the pubs at night, who gets into fights with his head open Martens, and leave a little aside the Englishman dressed and we all know strict h) I thought more fun that way i) Ah, Dr Martens boots are j) How well I know the alphabet? k) For the smart-ass, I know that a hydrogen bomb is a bomb. But I like the title thus l) The last phrase refers to the song Roll over, Beethoven. Is done on purpose, because although it is by Chuck Berry ... Beatles version m) The Chester is a chair n) is for the table, because I am a machine.

A hydrogen bomb

he saw him put his feet on the table. He has been revolutionizing the music and kicking the system, drunk punk. He has been drunk as he does not remember, put in a thousand fights which did not hesitate to remove one of the boots that prohibited the same time.

is not the first time you see him bruised and awake at five in the morning, and will not be the last to be found without any of the two has gone to bed yet. Get

bring one foot to keep you close the door in his face. Put a hand over the valuable gap has been achieved.

"I bring wine sounds like a permission to enter. And is hoarse, but it looks good.

Arthur rolls his eyes blank.

Lets go.

- Which God save the Queen, eh? "He laughs softly as when he sees, noting his shirt. The fucked well with the Sex Pistols, Kirkland. Although I have to admit that was a surprise.

-God shave the Queen , Bonnefoy-corrected, making it sound as a warning and aggressively approaching. I removed the two bottles of wine with a broken laugh.

-Oh. You're drunk, "Smile, best, and continues with a look as he walks. With those skinny jeans worn, Dr. Martens and everything else, it seems as if back in the slums of 1980.

takes off his suit jacket before lighting a cigarette and decides to ignore the sounds of breaking glass coming from the kitchen while sitting on the old Chester is the only thing that night has been moved from the site. Crush a command to be dropped. Turn it on, thinking that is television, but the stereo is the only answer.

speakers spew the wrong voice, and the cigarette is consumed in the mouth for two minutes until plummets silence throughout the room. He scratches his chin, taking a cigarette between two fingers and looking at him in disbelief. What I smoked?

"Dido's Lament.

Francis Arthur gives a start when he sits on his lap. Now you can see it more closely, you realize you have a huge bruise around the eye.

Lie. There is no fixed that.

has been set on how he raised his lips a little, without going to smile at all, and how he is looking. It is one of the things you love about Arthur, but, moreover, does not like almost anything.

A Arthur does not like too much, and certainly finished the morning and half pushed dress on the landing. At least, respect their first cigarette in the morning and Ela will embrace change overnight.

But the lack of engagement with these early morning is best. It has just reminded the cold touch of the wine bottle.

Turns cigarette against the leather couch with a provocative smile, and condense can almost hear the anger inside Arthur, while looking at the mark you just made in his chair.

-Asshole. Francis

laughs, before removing the bottle to give it a shot. It has left the class and elegance in the portal. Arthur too. He hits the arm to be back with the wine. Check

head back, drinks it whole. One. To the bottom, to soak the bones. When the leaves hit the ground, empty, is breathing and pulse crazy.

And Francis too.

I like the contrast of Arthur more than ever, and do not plan to give air time to recover the missing.

"You'll take off this damn clothes, Kirkland-states, short, having drunk what was left of his breath. Your philosophy punk DIY is dead, did you know ...? He laughs when you win a bite. Because you ... you need my help.

"Damn. Damn , shut up.

A Francis likes to have her lips on his mouth, everywhere later and finish exhausted on the floor because the couch is better too but he never wanted to sell.

Makes circles on the skin, while stare at the ceiling forever. Arhur unscrews from his waist as the sun begins to emerge through the blinds, too cold compared to the rest of the room. Lots his boots, his pants, the way to the stereo. Humming again the voice of Satan. Chester Francis strip, sparing you have re-raised, ignoring the ground glass.

He manages to drag him.

"You're a fucking criminal with music, Kirkland.

Sometimes .

smile. A little.

"It was that idiot who shouted Alfred Beethoven is run, not me.