[dohtml]<div align=center><div style='width: 460px; background-color: #E6E6E6; border:1px dashed #084B8A; padding: 10px 10px 15px 10px; padding-top: 15px;'>
<div style='width: 450px; height: 330px; background-position: center; background-image: url(http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg125/ahall6565/1100420461-1.jpg);'>
</div><div style="padding-top:2px;text-align:justify;width:440px;font-family:calibri;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;letter-spacing:1.6px;line-height:.8em;text-transform:uppercase;color:#FF0000;padding:2px;">COME ON, CACTUS IS OUR FRIEND. HE’LL POINT OUT THE WAY. COME ON, UNTIL THE EVENING ENDS, UNTIL THE EVENING ENDS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER, THERE’S NO NEED TO SPEAK. I’LL BE YOUR BELLY DANCER, PRANCER, AND YOU CAN BE MY SHEIK.</div><hr>
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It was a timeless cliché: it’s the little things in life that count. Oliver wasn’t sure the first time he’d heard the phrase before, but he was one of the few who not only didn’t roll his eyes at it but also completely embraced it. Life was a lot more exciting when things like sweeping the floor and burning candles actually decided whether or not it was a good day. After all, life was not going to be any better if someone spent their time being upset about the monotonies that were unavoidable. It was no wonder that depression was such a common thing in the world, because simply being alive on the right side of the sod was lackluster! Today’s adventure was grocery shopping, and because cooking was something he so enjoyed it was an exciting thing to make lists of ingredients needed and make menus for the coming week. He’d diligently worked on his lists a few days in advance, and now paraded his way home with the spoils like he’d won the lottery. He completed something off of his to-do list, which was cause for celebration; homemade cookies were definitely in order when he made it back to the apartment. Maybe he’d invite an old friend over for dinner to catch up on life. Well, as much of his life as he could anyway.
<p>
Life as a Legend was rewarding indeed, but keeping his identity secret teetered back and forth between a thrill and a burden. It didn’t feel very good lying to his friends and family about what he did for a living, despite the necessity of it. There was also a certain degree of alienation he felt, listening to people vent to one another about the complex issues in their jobs. It became difficult listening to a friend vent about a client complaining when product went on backorder when the only story he could relate with was and then he pointed the gun to her head and said “I’ll fucking kill her, I swear to God I’ll do it!” But it was okay in the end, because that was why people wrote in journals and if he needed to vent and share badly enough he could take up writing about his life instead of just making lists. It wasn’t healthy to dwell on that kind of stuff anyway.
<p>
The parade of groceries continued into the lobby of the apartment building where he immediately noticed a problem. The elevator was blockaded by caution tape, with orange cones in front of it as if to say “yes, it’s really broken!” Oliver set down his groceries for a moment, a small puff of a sigh escaping him while he motivated himself to take the stairs all the way to the sixth floor. After all, it was good exercise! Especially for someone who plans to make cookies upon reaching his apartment. Lifting up his groceries a second time and heading towards the stairwell, he glanced over his shoulder breaking his introspection for the first time since he left the grocery store to see his next door neighbor about to sneak past him. Oh, that Kazuya was like a jigsaw puzzle sometimes but he was sure fun trying to figure out. He was known as “cute guy next door” among most of his friends, though he was “cute lab partner” in biology class so long ago when they were still quite young in their college careers. Now Ollie was a graduate fighting crime, and Kazuya was in medical school. Oliver had just about forgotten about him after his mother died, but moving into his new apartment he couldn’t have been more overjoyed to see what a small world it was.
<p>
”Oh hey Kazuya!” Oliver called to his friend, smiling widely while adjusting the weight of the groceries in his hands. ”I swear I didn’t break the elevator.”
<p>
It would be such a great way to complete the grocery shopping experience, capitalizing on the situation to talk to the most evasive person on earth. Sometimes he wondered if Kazuya was avoidant towards him because he knew that Oliver was attracted to him, and other times he wondered if it was Kazuya’s problem establishing interpersonal relationships that kept them from being friendlier toward one another but that was his inner father talking for sure. Either way, he got to walk up the stairs with a cute boy all because the elevator was broken. It’s the little things…

</div><hr>
<div style="font-family:arial narrow;font-size:10px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:3px;text-transform:uppercase;"><b>YUREI</b> | <b>745</b> | <b>outfit</b> <a href="OUTFIT URL HERE" target=new>click</a> |</div>
<div style="font-family:arial narrow;font-size:8;color:#848484;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:center;">template made by <a href="http://z10.invisionfree.com/CAUTIONTOTHEWIND/index.php?showuser=14828" target="new">cupcakesss</a> of Caution 2.0</div></div>[/dohtml]

[dohtml]<center>
<div style="width:465px; background-color:#dcdddf; padding:15px;">
<div style="width: 450; background-image:url(http://oi52.tinypic.com/t0ke3o.jpg); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; height: 200; -moz-border-radius: 15 0 15 0px; border 1x 000000 solid;"></div>

<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:15px; color:363636; text-transform:uppercase; letter-spacing:1px; line-height:190%; font-weight:bold;margin-top:5px;">quick, come close to me and smile, oh</div>

<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:28px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; margin-top:0px; text-transform:lowercase; line-height:50%; letter-spacing:0px;">baby i’m so lonely, lonely, lonely</div>
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<hr style="color:#333;width:33%;"/>
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<p>
Kazuya’s day had absolutely <i>crawled</i> by. He was running on about six hours of sleep out of the last forty-eight total, and he felt like at that point, his eyes were probably staying open through sheer willpower alone – even caffeine had forsaken him. Classes were, predictably, completely dull. The only highlight of his day thus far had been turning in the research paper he should have finished ago, but had instead scrambled to do at the last minute; it seemed like America was influencing him far more than he’d realised. As if that weren’t enough, it had rained that morning, his bus had been late, and he’d squelched his way into lecture ten minutes late. All in all, he wasn’t exactly having the time of his life that day – in fact, it was safe to say that it had been the worst of his week so far. Luckily, it was Friday, which meant that Kazuya was through with classes until a late lab on Saturday. And <i>that</i> meant that he could go crawl into bed and spend the next twenty-eight hours pretending this wasn’t his life.
</p>
<p>
He trudged wearily on, hands stuffed into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, hood pulled up snugly around his face, earbuds in place. There were about fifteen minutes of the walk home that Kazuya completely spaced, body moving on autopilot alone; he might have managed to lose the entire walk to his apartment if not for the voice that broke him from his reverie. He stopped abruptly, one foot on the first step leading up to the second floor, and realised that he had no idea what his neighbour had just said. He panicked for a second, but luckily he was properly back in the world now, and he could see that the elevator directly behind Valentine had yellow caution tape all over it, which meant that it was broken yet again. It didn’t take much brainpower to realise that Oliver, then, could not take it upstairs to their floor. Kazuya didn’t use elevators as a rule, considering the slight chance that he still had of falling through the floor and thus plummeting to his death down an elevator shaft. In either case, Oliver had probably said something along those lines (or so he hoped.)
</p>
<p>
Crap. That meant that he was going to have company for five flights of stairs, which wasn’t exactly Kazuya’s ideal way of ending that kind of day. He steeled himself for it nonetheless, because this was Oliver, which meant that he couldn’t exactly ignore him and pretend he’d had his music up too loud to hear him. It wasn’t that Kazuya didn’t like Oliver. He did – well, more than he liked most people, at least. He was a nice guy, and definitely got points for putting up with Kazuya’s awkward. Kazuya had found that sometimes, he could even manage to hold a conversation with the guy without wearing a mask. That was kind of nice, considering his usual standards for social interaction involved either the aforementioned mask or a screen and keyboard. They had even managed to “hang out” a few times, with varying degrees of success – though it mostly involved watching movies or going out to eat with mutual friends. Still, that was about as far as he ever got with people, so it was pretty impressive.
</p>
<p>
They point was, they did talk every now and then when they ran into each other, and at this point, they were probably some approximation of “friends,” so Kazuya had no desire to upset the other man. They weren’t exactly close, but they did need to have a continuing relationship as “sort of friends” and also “neighbours,” which meant that he needed to wake himself up and have a nice conversation with the guy. There was just nothing for it – bed would have to wait just a little bit longer. That in mind, Kazuya reached up and plucked his earbuds out, draping them over his shoulders so that he could actually hear what was going on this time. He could do this. He <i>could</i>. “Oh, Valentine. Sorry,” he managed, adjusting his messenger bag self-consciously as he ducked his head in embarrassment to avoid the man’s sunny smile. “I didn’t hear you. Uhm, hi. Did you need something?” He took in the bags in the other’s arms as the words left his mouth, and felt a little bit stupid. “Oh. Those are probably heavy. I can, uhm, help, if you want?”
</p>
<hr style="color:#333;width:33%;"/>

<table>
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<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:20px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000;text-transform:lowercase;">lyrics</div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color: 363636; text-transform:uppercase;font-weight:bold;">
<i>lonely</i>, <br/>
2NE1
</div>
</td>
<td style="width:25%">
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:20px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:lowercase;">words</div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color: #363636; text-transform:uppercase;font-weight:bold;">
~745
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</td>
<td style="width:25%">
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:20px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:lowercase;">notes</div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color: #363636; text-transform:uppercase;font-weight:bold;">
<3 !
</div>
</td>
<td style="width:25%">
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:20px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:lowercase;">music</div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color:#363636; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold;">
<i>better than i know myself</i>, <br/>
adam lambert
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[dohtml]<div align=center><div style='width: 460px; background-color: #E6E6E6; border:1px dashed #084B8A; padding: 10px 10px 15px 10px; padding-top: 15px;'>
<div style='width: 450px; height: 330px; background-position: center; background-image: url(http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg125/ahall6565/1100420461-1.jpg);'>
</div><div style="padding-top:2px;text-align:justify;width:440px;font-family:calibri;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;letter-spacing:1.6px;line-height:.8em;text-transform:uppercase;color:#FF0000;padding:2px;">COME ON, CACTUS IS OUR FRIEND. HE’LL POINT OUT THE WAY. COME ON, UNTIL THE EVENING ENDS, UNTIL THE EVENING ENDS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER, THERE’S NO NEED TO SPEAK. I’LL BE YOUR BELLY DANCER, PRANCER, AND YOU CAN BE MY SHEIK.</div><hr>
<div style="width:430px;height:150px;overflow:auto;text-align:justify;font-family:century gothic;font-size:10px;color:#071019;padding:10px;line-height:100%;">
What were the odds?! Oliver never, ever ran into Kazuya on the elevator. Occasionally he would see him at the mailboxes or in the hallway as one of them came or went, but usually their encounters were always brief and polite. Anthropology taught him that Kazuya came from a high-context culture, a person who stuck to a tight knit group and relied on culture, tradition, and inferences to bridge the gap for things unsaid. With America being a low-context culture, it was easily for the two of them and their interactions to be lost in translation. Oliver felt the need to explain, show, and leave no question; Kazuya probably saw him as not a part of his group and felt coddled by all the explanation. So he tried not to feel the slightest bit embarrassed when he noticed him take out his headphones, and instead smiled…because that was the only thing he could think to do at the moment that didn’t involve using words.
<p>
”No, nothing!” He sheepishly replied when he was asked what he needed. ”I was just talking about how—“
<p>
He was both cut off and caught off guard when Kazuya reached for one of the bags of groceries in Oliver’s arms. The sparkle that formed in his eye had to be evident, and he bit his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing out of joyous reaction. After all, Kazuya would not see his laughter as a form of appreciation or praise, but more likely mockery despite the fact he was giddy as a schoolgirl. Their eyes met, locking for a split second before one of them sharply looked away—Oliver wasn’t sure which one of them flinched first. He didn’t mind the eye contact, but he was certain that the feeling was not mutual. Had he kept it, it was a sure thing he was a creep. One thing, it was definitely a memorable moment when “cute guy next door” helped him carry his groceries up a million flights of stairs.
<p>
”Thank you, you don’t have to do that.”
<p>
Walking up the stairs was actually pretty nice, and made him feel pretty lazy for not having done it more before. It wasn’t necessarily about being in shape, because the only shape Oliver could ever remember being was extremely thin and long. Toothpick, beanpole, stretch, slim, he’d heard them all really. It wasn’t his fault that his metabolism was faster than weather changes in Oklahoma, but that didn’t stop people from trying to figure out his secret: living. Kazuya on the other hand was not quite as ectomorphic as he was; it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing at all though. Oliver could see that he had some sort of muscles attached to his body, and with the right shirt could look totally buff. He kicked himself for being inappropriate, and thought about counting the steps as they climbed them instead of optically examining Kazuya’s muscle structure.
<p>
”How’s your day been? Looks like whatever happened you’re ready for a break!”
<p>
He really did. It wasn’t that he looked horrible or anything, but he’d seen enough of Kazuya to notice when something was a little different about him. Maybe he’d like some cookies too.

</div><hr>
<div style="font-family:arial narrow;font-size:10px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:3px;text-transform:uppercase;"><b>YUREI</b> | <b>542</b> | <b>outfit</b> <a href="OUTFIT URL HERE" target=new>click</a> |</div>
<div style="font-family:arial narrow;font-size:8;color:#848484;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:center;">template made by <a href="http://z10.invisionfree.com/CAUTIONTOTHEWIND/index.php?showuser=14828" target="new">cupcakesss</a> of Caution 2.0</div></div>[/dohtml]

[dohtml]<center>
<div style="width:465px; background-color:#dcdddf; padding:15px;">
<div style="width: 450; background-image:url(http://oi52.tinypic.com/t0ke3o.jpg); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; height: 200; -moz-border-radius: 15 0 15 0px; border 1x 000000 solid;"></div>

<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:15px; color:363636; text-transform:uppercase; letter-spacing:1px; line-height:190%; font-weight:bold;margin-top:5px;">quick, come close to me and smile, oh</div>

<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:28px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; margin-top:0px; text-transform:lowercase; line-height:50%; letter-spacing:0px;">baby i’m so lonely, lonely, lonely</div>
<br/>
<hr style="color:#333;width:33%;"/>
<div style="text-align:justify;padding-right:5px;font-family:verdana;font-size:10px;color:#333;width:450px;height:450px;line-height:105%;overflow: auto;">
<p>
The problem with interacting with Oliver was that Kazuya was never quite sure what he was supposed to say or do back. Oliver was so cheerful that it often threw Kazuya off guard altogether – he was often barely awake as it was, or spacing out, and Oliver just had so much <i>energy</i>. Kazuya felt bad, really; it was like Oliver would come at him with a big smile, and he’d do nothing in return but stare. It had to be weird for the other man to deal with, that was for sure. All in all, Kazuya wasn’t really sure why he bothered hanging around – he wasn’t very good at holding up his end of the conversation. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t want to talk to his neighbour so much as he was <i>bad</i> at it. And that was hard to convey without looking like a total ass.
</p>
<p>
Although he’d thought that taking Oliver’s bags would be a good thing to do, something was clearly weird about it, judging by the look on the guy’s face when he did it. Kazuya wasn’t really sure how to react when he saw that expression, so he – predictably – made himself very useful by ducking his head, hiding his eyes behind his bangs, and pretending he hadn’t seen a thing. He felt in bad about it, but in the face of conflict, there was no denying that Kazuya was the type to flee – in a fight or flight situation, Yurei was the only one sticking around to do any fighting, and even then, it was highly unlikely. He just knew when to cut his losses and get the hell out of a situation before it got too awkward – that wasn’t all that bad, was it? He was saving both himself and his neighbour the discomfort of having to put up with his social ineptitude, after all.
</p>
<p>
Kazuya turned and started up the stairs, deliberately slow because he knew that Oliver probably never bothered to climb the ten million flights of stairs it took to get to Mordor, and because he knew that if he went too quickly it would look like he was some kind of asshole trying to avoid conversation. (And only half of that latter statement was true, anyway.) He was tense, hands wrapped tight around the bag of groceries, waiting for it – and there. Oliver asked how his day had been, and although now it meant an entirely new type of pressure (one in which he actually had to do something), Kazuya relaxed just barely, glad for the fact that he was no longer waiting for some unknown variable to appear.
</p>
<p>
“My day was … well, predictable,” he reported. “Predictably boring, I suppose. There really isn’t anything to be excited about in math class.” He shifted, unsure of himself for a moment. “And… How was your day? You seem,” he paused, blinked, “… you seem exactly as you usually do, actually. Did something good happen today?”
</p>
<hr style="color:#333;width:33%;"/>

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<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:20px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000;text-transform:lowercase;">lyrics</div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color: 363636; text-transform:uppercase;font-weight:bold;">
<i>lonely</i>, <br/>
2NE1
</div>
</td>
<td style="width:25%">
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:20px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:lowercase;">words</div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color: #363636; text-transform:uppercase;font-weight:bold;">
~495
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</td>
<td style="width:25%">
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:20px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:lowercase;">notes</div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color: #363636; text-transform:uppercase;font-weight:bold;">
<3 !
</div>
</td>
<td style="width:25%">
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; font-size:20px; color: 4c7d7e; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000000; text-transform:lowercase;">music</div>
<div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color:#363636; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold;">
<i>anywhere</i>, <br/>
evanescence
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