James Dexter
From Create Your Own Story
(Rewriting story to account for age requirements. Other than a couple rewritten lines here and there, the content is largely the same.) |
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Your two sisters walk outside, dragging suitcases packed with clothes. A taxi bleeps outside, and your mother mutters, 'fuck, we're late.' A second later she turns to you and says, 'Don't copy my language.' You roll your eyes and nod. A smile, a kiss, then out the door with the rest of the family. You weave goodbye. ''Finally.'' | Your two sisters walk outside, dragging suitcases packed with clothes. A taxi bleeps outside, and your mother mutters, 'fuck, we're late.' A second later she turns to you and says, 'Don't copy my language.' You roll your eyes and nod. A smile, a kiss, then out the door with the rest of the family. You weave goodbye. ''Finally.'' | ||
| - | It's ridiculous. You're an adult now. If you were six years younger, maybe you'd need a keeper. But you're gonna graduate later this year. You shouldn't need a chaperone to help keep watch. Of course, a certain incident involving you and burnt pasta does come to mind. But you've grown. You don't need any-- | + | It's ridiculous. You're an adult now. If you were six years younger, maybe you'd need a keeper. Sadly, you're short and scrawny and there's not an ounce of facial hair on you. You could probably pass for a twelve year old. But you're gonna graduate later this year. You shouldn't need a chaperone to help keep watch. Of course, a certain incident involving you and burnt pasta does come to mind. But you've grown. You don't need any old hag tell you what to-- |
You hear a car horn honk. A red toyota pulls into the driveway. Your new babysitter parks the car and starts walking down the garden path. Your hormones kicked in four years back but you've yet to get lucky with anyone. Being scrawny and awkward will do that to you. You know you shouldn't stare yet you can't help but scrutinize. | You hear a car horn honk. A red toyota pulls into the driveway. Your new babysitter parks the car and starts walking down the garden path. Your hormones kicked in four years back but you've yet to get lucky with anyone. Being scrawny and awkward will do that to you. You know you shouldn't stare yet you can't help but scrutinize. | ||
| - | Serah | + | Serah looks a couple years older than you, probably around her late 20s. Her hair is flowing gold silk, coming down to her shoulders. Her startlingly clear green eyes compliment a well toned mouth and nose. The top two buttons of her shirt seem to have broken off, exposing moderately large breasts - you've seen bigger, but not in a while. |
| - | 'You must be James! | + | 'You must be James! Is your family still here?' She asks you. |
'No, they just left.' | 'No, they just left.' | ||
| - | ' | + | 'Too bad. I was hoping to catch up with your sisters before they left. Ah well. I'm Serah, a family friend.' She looks down at the bushes and giggles nervously. 'They probably already told you that.' |
You open your mouth to speak but Serah continues. 'Anyways, I'm sure your parents also told you this, but I'll tell you again. I'm staying in their bedroom - feel free to call me at any time.' She checks her watch. '7:30 AM. I'll assume your parents were in a bit of a rush, should I make breakfast?' | You open your mouth to speak but Serah continues. 'Anyways, I'm sure your parents also told you this, but I'll tell you again. I'm staying in their bedroom - feel free to call me at any time.' She checks her watch. '7:30 AM. I'll assume your parents were in a bit of a rush, should I make breakfast?' | ||
Current revision as of 13:24, 25 October 2017
'Goodbye, sweetie,' your mother tells you, zipping up the last suitcase before giving you a peck on the cheek. You hate it when she does that. You're not a kid anymore. 'Next time we're going on a holiday, you're coming, don't worry about that. And you'll like Serah. She's a sweet girl, just don't make life too hard on her.' Your mother gives you a peck on the cheek, before returning to the packing.
'I'll see you in a week, all right, son?' Your father, giving you a pat on the back. 'Serah will cook for you and help with cleaning, but I'm trusting you to do everything else yourself. All right?'
Your two sisters walk outside, dragging suitcases packed with clothes. A taxi bleeps outside, and your mother mutters, 'fuck, we're late.' A second later she turns to you and says, 'Don't copy my language.' You roll your eyes and nod. A smile, a kiss, then out the door with the rest of the family. You weave goodbye. Finally.
It's ridiculous. You're an adult now. If you were six years younger, maybe you'd need a keeper. Sadly, you're short and scrawny and there's not an ounce of facial hair on you. You could probably pass for a twelve year old. But you're gonna graduate later this year. You shouldn't need a chaperone to help keep watch. Of course, a certain incident involving you and burnt pasta does come to mind. But you've grown. You don't need any old hag tell you what to--
You hear a car horn honk. A red toyota pulls into the driveway. Your new babysitter parks the car and starts walking down the garden path. Your hormones kicked in four years back but you've yet to get lucky with anyone. Being scrawny and awkward will do that to you. You know you shouldn't stare yet you can't help but scrutinize.
Serah looks a couple years older than you, probably around her late 20s. Her hair is flowing gold silk, coming down to her shoulders. Her startlingly clear green eyes compliment a well toned mouth and nose. The top two buttons of her shirt seem to have broken off, exposing moderately large breasts - you've seen bigger, but not in a while.
'You must be James! Is your family still here?' She asks you.
'No, they just left.'
'Too bad. I was hoping to catch up with your sisters before they left. Ah well. I'm Serah, a family friend.' She looks down at the bushes and giggles nervously. 'They probably already told you that.'
You open your mouth to speak but Serah continues. 'Anyways, I'm sure your parents also told you this, but I'll tell you again. I'm staying in their bedroom - feel free to call me at any time.' She checks her watch. '7:30 AM. I'll assume your parents were in a bit of a rush, should I make breakfast?'
Lust: 0
Willingness: 0
Awkwardness: 20
Happiness: 20
