Taking it Easy(Ian)

[annabellelee]

Outfit
[Brian dead, promise next one will be better]

It all seemed so perfect, as she walked threw the field she could not help but feel like it was all to perfect...that this place was to perfect. Maybe it was just her pessimistic side kicking in she was not sure but it all seemed just to perfect. It was beautiful, silence seemed to roll threw it and she closed her eyes lightly, feeling the wind against her face. Lightly she walked, remembering she was hearing high heels though...she stopped and slipped them off deciding it would be better if she just carried them. The world was a mess, no one could say it was not with a straight face, or that it needed a little work it was far from just needing a little work.

Most humans if it hit them right in the face would never imagine that the things that lived in their nightmares were really out there, walking the streets with them. Isabel had been one of those people, until he had fallen for her and tried to trick her...she thought he was her friend and he had betrayed her for his own selfish ways. It made her resent them, not for being like him but because somewhere out there, the one that had turned her good friend into a monster was out there..the one that had made it so she had to pull the trigger on something she cared about. It was her usual thought process that she went threw about everyday it was rather tiring and sometimes she wished life was simpler but hey things could only get better from there right?

Who knew though, Annabel really hated building herself up for something that was never going to happen and she refused to do it at this particular moment to herself. Setting herself up for disappointment was something she only let those hopeful idiots do and she would not become a hopeful idiot. Lacing her fingers together with the shoes in hand she kept walking spinning every once and a while as she did out of the fact that she was wrapped in her thoughts. It was good that way, if she was wrapped in her thoughts then she did not have to worry much about anything else, she never really ran into people so it was not as though there were a lot of people around. Annabel got the feeling that no matter how beautiful this place was, hardly anyone came here...the way this place felt said that much.

[dorian]

Annabel’s feeling was right – hardly anyone ever came to the field.

That was precisely the reason why Ian loved it so much.

The man was very much the farthest thing from what could be called a “people person” – Ian kept to himself, and his social life was terribly fickle. There were times when the man could easily go for months without contacting anyone from ‘the outside world’ – apart, of course, from those he saw at work. As the men he worked with weren’t exactly the sociable type themselves, Ian, more often than not, found himself very much alone. Over the past few years, he’d managed somewhat to convince himself that he liked it better that way.

What Ian lacked in friends and social finesse, he made up for in useless hobbies that could be easily executed alone. One of his favorites, surprisingly, behind watching baseball and ahead of reading renaissance literature, was cloud-gazing.

Scratch that, actually. He was pretty certain that cloud-gazing took the cake from baseball, and ate it, too.

That’s what he presently found himself in the midst of doing, now.

...Not eating cake.
Cloud-gazing.

He watched the daytime – in some cases, nighttime – sky from various perches around the city and it’s outskirts. This field specifically was exceedingly ideal, as Ian could walk to the field from the city – a wonderful thing for a man who didn’t own a car – and had very few others to battle for it. Ian enjoyed both walking and laying down equally when he executed the task of staring at the sky. Laying down, of course, was considerably safer. After all, one couldn’t exactly trip or have their foot trapped within a badger’s nest while they weren’t looking if they weren’t on their feet to begin with. But on occasions where the wind refused to move fast enough to move the clouds along at a steady pace, Ian often chose to move himself, walking at a slow but propelled pace, eyes locked on God’s canvas above.

It seemed almost silly for a man like Ian to be so captivated, entranced, and devoted to such a pastime. Staring at white puffy fluffy things that trailed slowly across the sky didn’t sound like something a grown man should do – let alone, a construction worker who, on average, got into some sort of trouble at least once a week (though, said ‘trouble’ was rarely of his own design – he just had bad luck that way). When looking at Ian, one could say he was somewhat intimidating. He was exceedingly tall, with a chiseled, powerful physique. He did happen to have a handsome face, but unless he was caught in the proper mood, one rarely found a smile upon it. It was funny how the man’s moods and mindsets changed – he was ever-erratic, flippant, and indecisive. As such, there was really quite little an individual could do about whether Ian liked him/her or not. It was luck of the draw.

Some did get rather lucky, however – one of the luckiest to date was one Anastasia Steele, who had happened to be so fortunate as to be offered medical aid from the former guardian angel. He rarely extended a hand unless it was in the shape of a fist, though he often did so in the defense of someone else. It was Ana that Ian’s thoughts trailed to before he sat up, stretching, squinting as he set a gaze of immaculate sky-blue dancing across the plains.

Dorian wasn’t a completely patient man, despite his love for his sky-watching ‘sport’, which required floods of it. This day in particular, Ian had spent much of the afternoon lying down, drifting and dreaming in intervals. He stood up suddenly, however, as the particular portion of the sky above him became a cloudless blue. Ian turned on his heel and found, to his great surprise, a pretty young woman not ten feet away.

“Oh – sorry, I didn’t see you there.” His response was quick and somewhat surprised, if still a little sleepy-sounding. He brushed off the front of a pair of dark faded jeans with both hands as he spoke. His torso was donned in a tee of baby blue, a compliment to both his eyes and the sky above – not to mention, the noteworthy, rippling muscles to which the shirt loosely clung. Ian had a bronze tan to his figure, along with sandy brown hair, and his skin and the locks upon his head seemed to shimmer gently in the direct light of the sun. He was an approachable sight, all-in-all – though, that may have only been for the moment. It also – at least, in his opinion – was nothing more than a God-given misgiving that seemed to cause him nothing but trouble. In the daylight, nothing about his face, his posture, or his even words seemed the least bit dangerous. Even his muscular build was considerably weakened by the warmth of the sun. In all honesty, any man who spent an entire day off looking at clouds immediately lost a few threatening-appearance points. The only thing that played the part of caution towards the note of darkness in Ian’s character were his eyes, a depthy and wondrous blue, which were perfectly unyielding, perfectly piercing, perfectly locked doorways to his soul.

Ian raised a hand to scratch the back of his head. What did one say to a random woman they had just met in such a place as a field?

“You…er, enjoying the weather?”


{so sorry for the wait and the poor quality of this – I’m really praying things will die down here soon, so that I can get my muse consistent and up and running!!}