because: a) i’m in love with this song and b) the prompt sounds cool.
“i’m in the static, i’m an addict.” – hopeful romantic, this century.
“I’m absolutely fed up.”
Stella raised her eyebrow elegantly—everyone had been wondering how she did it—while drifting her gaze from the fashion magazine she read to look at her brother. “And why are you fed up?” She asked, then looked back and flipping the page of the magazine.
“Everyone in school has been starting to say ‘static’!” He said in exasperation, quoting the word ‘static’. “It’s my word, y’know!”
His sister deadpanned at him. “Last time I checked dictionary, static does in that, you know. So technically it is not your word.” She replied nonchalantly. When her brother didn’t reply, she lifted her face up and looked him. “What’s wrong?”
Dan—who was buried his face in his palms—sighed. “Sis, do you know how many years have I used that word?” He asked, his sentence was rather muffled because he didn’t want to lift up his face from his palms. “Do you know how many words I’ve created by using the word ‘static’?”
“Let’s see.” Stella said. “You always say ‘I’m in the static’ when you’re happy, then ‘my static’s kinda drop right now’ for moping mood—”
“I’m not moping,” Dan interjected. Stella shot him an ‘are-you-sure?’ look then when she noticed there was no respond from her brother, she continued.
“You also modified some greetings like; good morning to ‘shining static greeting’, good afternoon ‘yellow-ish static’ and kind of weird stuffs,” She paused, “which is getting weirder time by time, in case if you don’t know.”
“Hey! I modified it more awesome, y’know?” He objected. “Shining static greeting is when I was ten. Now, the greeting’s changed to static’s—”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Stella swayed her hand, “but it still is weird. Odd. Peculiar. Queer. Strange.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for supplying my vocabulary,”
“That’s what older sisters are for.”
Stella grinned when she saw Dan twitched. She knew that Dan was really… touchy when it came to their birth—since they were twins. Dan, being the one who had pride too high, always proclaimed that he was older brother to Stella. That was until their mother said that Stella was the older one.
As mentioned before, Dan had too much pride and being the man and blah-blah-blah, he never acknowledged it. He often twitched when she mentioned about it until now, much to Stella’s amusement.
“Do not mention it.” He said pointedly, but Stella just put her tongue out.
“Make me.” She challenged, smirking rather priggishly. She put the long-abandoned magazine from her lap to the wooden table in front of her and crossed her arms.
Dan smirked. “Alright.” He rose from his seat. For a moment she thought he’d do what she suggested him indirectly. Instead, he made a beeline to the place where Stella kept her magazine. He took two or three and showed them to Stella. This activity made Stella’s brow shot up.
“What are you gonna do?” She asked, bewildered. This question answered after Dan showed her a lighter. Her eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t dare.” She growled.
“Oh, I dare,” Dan said cheekily. Then he ignited.
“and you’ve got to know.”
i nearly type a kissing scene. a kissing freaking scene! /goes hysterically/ but, well! i decided not to. but i put a lil bit of incest there. my deepest apologies if you’re not comfortable with that kind of relationship. /bows down/ anyways! give me a high-five for succeeding to keep myself! yeah!
“Anyway,” Dan said suddenly, “I still don’t accept that whole static virus in my school.”
Stella stared at him grumpily, didn’t say anything. She still mad at him because he burnt her magazine. It was lucky that he decided just to burn one instead of three. But, unfortunately, it happened to be Stella’s most favorite magazine.
“What’s with that luck, dear sister?” He asked cheekily. Stella huffed in exasperation then forced herself to focus to the magazine on her lap.
After a few minutes, she gave up and stared at him with the piercing look of hers. “Static sounds stupid. Abso-bloody-lutelly stupid.”
“hopeful romantic, hope-ful rom-an-tic.”