Yo! Astrid Fisher, here. Dead as a door nail, but no sweat. Use to be a one-hit-wonder, but I don't like to talk about it much. I did some modeling and filming before I died, but nothing you would know. They claimed I was suicidal, I claimed they were overly-enthusiastic.
My relationship status is complicated.
[A RP blog, and an RP blog *only*. I am, in no way, affiliated with Deborah Harry, nor do I intend to steal copyrighted photographs/songs/videos and credit it toward myself.]
As Kurt cut off any further conversation, instant relief fell over her. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and her shoulders slumped slightly as if to exaggerate her sudden freedom. As soon as Sonny broke in, she pulled her lips back with wry laughter, shaking her head to his remark. “You could lose a few pounds.” She teased Kurt, scrunching her nose as she did so. She leaned more against the wall to ease herself from putting too much weight on her heels.
Kurt frowned more dramatically, pulling the shirt off. “Screw you guys.” He pulled the plaid shirt on now, buttoning it up and pulling on the ends a little bit. “What… the hell?” Kurt looked down at the sides that shaped his body; this wasn’t anything like the flannels he use to wear.
Sonny giggled, “You forgot that I’ve got the shape of a girl. My clothes are gonna fit you a little funny. I think it defines the rock hard abs you’ve got.” He gave him a gentle nudge before turning to Astrid. “Doesn’t he look just fabulous?” He added a slight lisp along with the sentence, to emphasize the statement.
The boy danced around the room, removing his shirt to reveal a coke-bottle waist, hips protruding over his sagging jeans and quickly slipped on the flannel that didn’t fit Kurt, feeling very self-concious. “Astrid, are you going to dress up? I think you’re fine with what you’ve got, though. I’m just wondering.”
At this point, she stepped over the clutter of shirts and headed over to Kurt, fixing the collar and buttons of the shirt. As Sonny asked if she was going to dress up, Astrid furrowed her brow. Was she suppose to look nice? She rarely did these days—aside from Kurt, she had no one to impress. Sheepishly, she tilted her head down slightly, shaking her head. Sure, she could’ve stolen a few things from the teenage girl who lived there, but she figured she’d have no time.
“Only if you don’t think I need to. Otherwise, I can.”
An almost shy grin spread to Astrid’s lips as he complimented her. Aside from Kurt, no one ever complimented her. It was almost refreshing.
Suddenly, Astrid was overwhelmed with questions. She felt as if she were being interviewed again. She hesitated slightly as he continued on, sparing an amused glance over to Kurt that said something along the lines of “I like this kid” before setting her eyes against Sonny once more. Astrid’s eyebrows raised as he flopped down against his bed and began swinging his legs like a child. Another chuckle escaped Astrid. He reminded her of her own little brother, the one in which she hadn’t seen since she was too old. A reminiscent look grazed Astrid’s features as she forced herself from her thoughts.
“O-oh, well, let’s see,” She began, rolling her eyes to the ceiling pensively as she mustered the answers. “I met Kurt in the.. 90’s, I think. He had just moved in and I was interested in him the second I set my eyes on him.” She glanced briefly over at Kurt with a subtle smirk before reverting her gaze to Sonny. “He treats me like a princess and I don’t deserve it.” She pulled his flannel closer to her subconsciously.
The last question, however, would be a little more complicated to answer. How had she ended up here? Stuck in this hellhole for eternity? This would take some thought. She casted her gaze somewhere other than the two sets of eyes that seemed to be watching her every move. Would she just come right out with it? He had to have known she was dead with a friend like Kurt.
“Overdose.” She said in such a way, it almost seemed as if she were embarrassed by the topic. She furrowed her brow with a bemused expression, hoping someone, or something would break the suddenly aching silence.
Kurt had been scratching his chest, crossing his arms over his bare chest as Sonny rummaged through his clothes. He shook his head lightly as the boy asked a bunch of questions. He kept glancing between Sonny and Astrid, smiling slightly as he got the ‘I like this kid’ look from the girl.
As soon as Astrid answered the question, Kurt quickly changed the subject. “Sonny, I really don’t think this shirt is going to fit…” Pulling the grey shirt over his head, it fell barely above the rim of his jeans and clung close to his figure. The man gave a dramatic frown, looking up at the two near the bed.
Sonny was about to question Astrid some more before he heard Kurt finally talk, turning his gaze from the woman to the older man and fell backwards onto the bed laughing. “Wow, you fatass!” He teased lightly, jumping to his feet and wandered over by the guitarist to help him find a different one.
Most of his shirts would probably fit Kurt a little snug, but he grabbed the ends of the raggedy shirt and rolled up onto his tiptoes, slipping it off of the man with a hum before tossing him his black and gray plaid shirt. “Try this one. Don’t rip it, fatty.” He grinned, teasing the man some more.
As Kurt cut off any further conversation, instant relief fell over her. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and her shoulders slumped slightly as if to exaggerate her sudden freedom. As soon as Sonny broke in, she pulled her lips back with wry laughter, shaking her head to his remark. “You could lose a few pounds.” She teased Kurt, scrunching her nose as she did so. She leaned more against the wall to ease herself from putting too much weight on her heels.
Sonny was fussing through the few clothes he had in his closet, pulling some of the flannels and long, plaid shirts. “Your jeans will be okay, it gets hot in there.” He tossed some of his shirts back into his closet, “You won’t need these. They definately won’t fit you.” He had some music playing in the background coming from his laptop, which was one of the songs he would be playing at the set.
The boy turned towards Kurt, dancing a little. “So where’s this hot girlfriend of yours? I wanna meet her. I don’t even know her name, man!”
As she heard herself being talked about, she pressed her ear to the door. Her lips curled to a prominent frown as she did this, however, for she found herself to be quite rude for even considering eaves dropping. Instead, she tapped her knuckles lightly against the wood of the door, pushing it over a little further and standing it the doorway, leaning against the frame. A smile had curled to her heart-shaped lips as she folded her arms, tilting her head to the side, her piercing green eyes scanning over the two boys nonchalantly. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
Sonny perked up, brown eyes glancing over at the door while he hid his face shyly. “Oh, no, ma’am. You’re not. Are you Kurt’s girlfriend?” He asked, stepping over to her and offering his hand. “I’m Sonny. Sorry about the mess, I’m trying to find Kurt something to wear tonight, since he thinks that none of my clothes will fit.”
He nudged the man with an elbow, leaning over to speak to him quietly, “She’s really pretty. You’re lucky to have her, man.”
Astrid hadn’t noticed the mess, to be honest. She was so use to clutter, she became immune to it. She pulled her lips back as a chuckle escaped her, her arms still folded across her chest as he stepped toward her. She’d bid her hand forward, offering it as a formal greeting. “I suppose I am. I’m Astrid. You must be Sonny, yes?” Her grin grazed her features now, two dimples on either side of her face becoming visible. “Kurt speaks highly of you.”
“Astrid.. sounds lovely, like you ma’am.” Sonny complimented, shaking her hand gently before shyly running it through the shaved side of his head, a light tint of pink rolled off of his scarred cheeks. “I am, and he does? Jeez, didn’t know I was so famous around here too.” He chuckled, pushing his glasses up.
Now all he wanted to do was play twenty questions with the woman while Kurt tried to find something to wear. He started with a simple question, but they came out in three. “So how’d you meet Kurt? Does he treat you right? How’d you end up here with him?” He felt like a child again, asking the new girl to his best friend simple questions he should’ve known on his own. Sitting on the bed, he swung his feet back and forth, waiting for an answer from the woman while trying to think of other things to ask.
An almost shy grin spread to Astrid’s lips as he complimented her. Aside from Kurt, no one ever complimented her. It was almost refreshing.
Suddenly, Astrid was overwhelmed with questions. She felt as if she were being interviewed again. She hesitated slightly as he continued on, sparing an amused glance over to Kurt that said something along the lines of “I like this kid” before setting her eyes against Sonny once more. Astrid’s eyebrows raised as he flopped down against his bed and began swinging his legs like a child. Another chuckle escaped Astrid. He reminded her of her own little brother, the one in which she hadn’t seen since she was too old. A reminiscent look grazed Astrid’s features as she forced herself from her thoughts.
“O-oh, well, let’s see,” She began, rolling her eyes to the ceiling pensively as she mustered the answers. “I met Kurt in the.. 90’s, I think. He had just moved in and I was interested in him the second I set my eyes on him.” She glanced briefly over at Kurt with a subtle smirk before reverting her gaze to Sonny. “He treats me like a princess and I don’t deserve it.” She pulled his flannel closer to her subconsciously.
The last question, however, would be a little more complicated to answer. How had she ended up here? Stuck in this hellhole for eternity? This would take some thought. She casted her gaze somewhere other than the two sets of eyes that seemed to be watching her every move. Would she just come right out with it? He had to have known she was dead with a friend like Kurt.
“Overdose.” She said in such a way, it almost seemed as if she were embarrassed by the topic. She furrowed her brow with a bemused expression, hoping someone, or something would break the suddenly aching silence.
Sonny was fussing through the few clothes he had in his closet, pulling some of the flannels and long, plaid shirts. “Your jeans will be okay, it gets hot in there.” He tossed some of his shirts back into his closet, “You won’t need these. They definately won’t fit you.” He had some music playing in the background coming from his laptop, which was one of the songs he would be playing at the set.
The boy turned towards Kurt, dancing a little. “So where’s this hot girlfriend of yours? I wanna meet her. I don’t even know her name, man!”
As she heard herself being talked about, she pressed her ear to the door. Her lips curled to a prominent frown as she did this, however, for she found herself to be quite rude for even considering eaves dropping. Instead, she tapped her knuckles lightly against the wood of the door, pushing it over a little further and standing it the doorway, leaning against the frame. A smile had curled to her heart-shaped lips as she folded her arms, tilting her head to the side, her piercing green eyes scanning over the two boys nonchalantly. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
Sonny perked up, brown eyes glancing over at the door while he hid his face shyly. “Oh, no, ma’am. You’re not. Are you Kurt’s girlfriend?” He asked, stepping over to her and offering his hand. “I’m Sonny. Sorry about the mess, I’m trying to find Kurt something to wear tonight, since he thinks that none of my clothes will fit.”
He nudged the man with an elbow, leaning over to speak to him quietly, “She’s really pretty. You’re lucky to have her, man.”
Astrid hadn’t noticed the mess, to be honest. She was so use to clutter, she became immune to it. She pulled her lips back as a chuckle escaped her, her arms still folded across her chest as he stepped toward her. She’d bid her hand forward, offering it as a formal greeting. “I suppose I am. I’m Astrid. You must be Sonny, yes?” Her grin grazed her features now, two dimples on either side of her face becoming visible. “Kurt speaks highly of you.”
Sonny was fussing through the few clothes he had in his closet, pulling some of the flannels and long, plaid shirts. “Your jeans will be okay, it gets hot in there.” He tossed some of his shirts back into his closet, “You won’t need these. They definately won’t fit you.” He had some music playing in the background coming from his laptop, which was one of the songs he would be playing at the set.
The boy turned towards Kurt, dancing a little. “So where’s this hot girlfriend of yours? I wanna meet her. I don’t even know her name, man!”
As she heard herself being talked about, she pressed her ear to the door. Her lips curled to a prominent frown as she did this, however, for she found herself to be quite rude for even considering eaves dropping. Instead, she tapped her knuckles lightly against the wood of the door, pushing it over a little further and standing it the doorway, leaning against the frame. A smile had curled to her heart-shaped lips as she folded her arms, tilting her head to the side, her piercing green eyes scanning over the two boys nonchalantly. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
Kurt wrapped his arm around her shoulders, looking down at her with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh you think so?” He gently grabbed her chin, leaning down with a smile. “WhyIoughta’..” He teased with a whisper before pressing his lips to hers. So far, their relationship had been pretty smooth sailing; smoother than it had ever been in Kurt’s opinion.
She leaned herself against Kurt as she felt his arm around her, feeling a little more protected as he did this. She chuckled as her chin was locked between his fingers in no time, and she had no choice but to turn her face to his. She pulled her lips to small smirk in return as he closed in on her, pressing back into the kiss. She was glad she had kissed him on New Years Eve. Clearly, it wasn’t a mistake.. at least she hoped it wasn’t.
Kurt watched her, pulling the strap of Buddha off his shoulder so he could rest the guitar against the side of the box. He rested his hands on his knees, leaning over as he continued to watch her. As Astrid hugged the flannel, his lips curled up into a crooked smile. One hand rose up to rest his chin on as he continued to watch her. He didn’t say much, he didn’t really speak at all. He just watched with a crooked smile plastered over his lips.
She unfolded the flannel and slid it over her shoulders and onto her own clothes, hugging herself to it as she did so. She had missed this flannel after all of these years. And though it looked rather frumpy and distasteful, she had a certain fondness for it. In a way, it symbolized the relationship in which Kurt and Astrid shared. She turned to him, fixing her curly ponytail and tucking a stray curl behind her ear, though it seemed to fall back into her face, anyway. She made her way back over to him and sat beside him, setting her head against his shoulder and placing a meticulous hand against his thigh. “I could almost pass off as you if I could grow facial hair.” She teased.
Kurt continued playing, paying no mind to Astrid truthfully. Eventually, the man’s fingers stopped moving. He glanced up at her before pushing his hair back behind his ear. With a smile, he leaned over and tapped the edge of the hat, knocking it down slightly over her eyes. “You wanna keep that flannel?”
He nodded over at the one unfolded flannel that hung over the edge of the box. When Kurt left for the holidays back when he owned the house, that was the one flannel he had left laid out for Astrid; upon arriving home he found her curled in the bed with it. Granted, he had a similar blue flannel but there was nothing like that green flannel. It had been his favorite since he bought it but since meeting Astrid, he either gave it to her to wear or he wouldn’t wear it at all. He figured it was about time to give it to her.
As the hat fell over her eyes, she tilted her head upward, as if doing so would assist her in being able to see. She scrunched her nose, turning in his direction before turning her head and removing the hat to glance over in the direction in which he was pointing. Her eyes lit up at the dark-green colored flannel, and boiled with an inexplicable amount of tears. She hadn’t seen the flannel in years. She remembered it all too well on him, and how much he had loved that flannel. And even upon leaving, he’d given it to her to keep her company. Truthfully, she didn’t once take it off. Being a ghost, personal hygiene wasn’t exactly a problem for her.
She lifted herself from the space in which she had been sitting and slowly made her way toward the flannel, as if expecting it to wrap its sleeves around her and choke her at any moment. She fell to a kneeling position as she took the flannel in her hands. It smelled of him, as it had when she had received. She spared a brief glance over her shoulder at Kurt as she pulled her lips up to a reminiscent grin. She nodded slowly and carefully, hugging the flannel to her as if her life depended on it.
Kurt continued the song, finding himself remembering more of the song than he imagined he would. Those dirty blonde locks dropped in front of his face but nothing seemed to wake the man from the involvement in his music. He was in an entirely different world; it had always been that way when it came to his music. Something about his guitar allowed him to escape any given hell, even the one that he was now stuck in. As the man’s eyes closed, his fingers continued to move over the neck and string as if Kurt himself had nothing at all to do with the nose vibrating out of the instrument.
She shined a dimpled grin in his direction before swaying slightly, turning over to look glance over everything she could inside of the box. Tons of old pictures of him as a child—he hadn’t changed. Shirts that smelled of him, even after all of these years. She’d fold them meticulously, still swaying her head carefully to the music and nearly clearing out the entire box, finding a single hat and flopping it over her curly locks that were pulled back in a single curly ponytail.
