Garment Racks For Sale

Hello again:)

Hi! I'm back to LJ after two years not spend time here. I have decided to remove the four entries was because a) I gave a little embarrassed and b) was no longer projects (such as a table RHR) to mean nothing and that's not cool.

And because I wanted to start from scratch, bucking. because I want to talk a little of everything and nothing in particular and the horrible hours of this course nobody can stop for a coffee and a chat. so I'll do over here:)

For today I have much more to say because I'll probably spend the afternoon researching here and there on the LJ (and other chorraditas userpics) and being as I am, zero for this kind of thing, I take time not mess up every time you post something. Anyway, as I get a little penilla leave it, leave a bullet makes a lot written (published in ff.net and slightly amended).

- Theo.

- What.

- I need your help.

Those three words from the mouth of the very Blaise Zabbini make it up as fast neck that almost broke his neck. Need help? An alibi, probably. Looks the same as always, there seems to be armed for anything too serious to him, looking expectant, with his hands in the pockets of his robe. Tunic which, incidentally, has an unmistakable smell.

- Why do you smell like you've caído en un tonel de tabaco?

Su escueta respuesta - por eso necesito ayuda - le hacen crear una variedad de hipótesis a cada cuál más estrambótica. Quiere que le haga la colada. Ha conseguido de verdad un tonel de tabaco y no sabe dónde esconderlo. Le ha robado a ÉL su tabaco.

Cuando la posibilidad de no fumar durante la próxima semana se hace patente en su cabeza entra en pánico; su ceja izquierda se levanta involuntariamente y cierra el libro de golpe. Para una persona cuya expresividad facial se limita a distintas versiones de la cara de poker, eso es estar bastante nervioso.

Llegan a la habitación, dónde Theodore ruega por encontrarse su bolsa de hierbas intacta y a buen recaudo, pero Blaise es incapaz de estar quieto - para no variar - y se sienta en su cama. Luego se levanta y se deja caer en la de Draco. Cambia de postura ochenta veces y se le queda mirando con la barbilla apoyada en la mano. No sabe qué demonios hace pero empieza a temer la aparición de un nuevo tic porque le está poniendo realmente histérico.

- ¿Se puede saber qué te pasa?

No se lo piensa. Podría remolonear y hacerse el avergonzado pero, a grandes males, grandes remedios.

- Teach me to smoke.

apparently tried it, swear to have tried it himself. But choking and coughing as if his life depended on it, and Theodore can not suppress a smile because that is seeing, that he observes from his bedroom door is most unlikely, as ú ; last that would have occurred minutes before the Common Room Blaise - not a useless as Longbottom, no - want to smoke because it seems, has seen Ely says it's great, absolutely great to see him smoking. Theodore is supported by the door, do not know whether to laugh mourn but now I need a cigarette.

- Okay, I'll teach.