Everytime You Blink, There's One More [open]

"Yo!"

The sound of fists hitting the door in a mildly violent way shook their room. Evelyn didn't wait for someone to reply, or to open the door, she just made her way in the room. This wasn't her room, but Autumns were Autumns, and for one, she didn't care. Plus, they were out of coffee, and going to town was not an option when you were 'Friday lazy'. The girl entered, waving an empty cup at the one boy that was sitting on a couch.

"Will you be a gentleman and let me get some coffee?" she asked him with a pout, then decisively made her way towards the kitchen. It was fairly easy, since all rooms shared the common layout. Except for that dude, that was in the kitchen, too. She saluted him lazily, waving the cup of coffee in his face as well before returning to fitting her cup into the machine and pressing the buttons for her favorite brew.

Paris tried to smack Preston's hands away from his face. The redness in his face remained as he listened to his brother's proposition. "Yeah, I'm sure you know all the tricks. How do you pick up girls? Throwing a p-pokey ball at them?" he shot back, stuttering at the end, effectively ruining his retort. Just his luck. He looked back at the kitchen to see the progress but realized that the majority of the cooking area was blocked off. With a sight he stood up from the couch and looked around the dorm as he stepped through the living area towards the kitchen. The initiate stood within the doorway of the area and watched his brother work his culinary magic. "How's it coming in here?"

He was pulling everything down onto the counters like a madman; spices and canned goods, vegetables and bags of flour. Preston only paused to twist around, scoff and shoot his younger brother a smug look. "You're looking at the master," the Autumn bragged. Master of Picking up Girls? Or Pokemon Master? Both, he liked to think. He refused to let Paris keep him off track for long, grabbing his select choices and beginning to knead together a dough. "You can't rush art." He never often cooked in front of anyone else, except their own mother. "What are you up to these days?"

"Oh you know, the usual. Stealing your stuff, reading Verona's old diaries. Fun younger brother stuff. What about you? I'm sure you've got ladies crawling all over you, since you're the master and all," he replied, smirking. He watched as his brother worked, reluctantly admiring Preston's skill in the kitchen. While he was a complete dork, he knew how to cook.

As he continued on with his future masterpiece, he couldn't help but throw a sharp glance again in Paris' way, but he only feigned his irritation. He was quick to hide his smirk soon as he focused down on the dough again. "I am the master," Preston near sang back. "I do other shit; fighting, training, babysitting..." He instinctively shot a paranoid glance toward Kayla's door. "Important shit. Also this new game... Pokemon Perfect Platnium... It's pretty good..."

He fell to a mumble.

Paris heard everything Preston said, but decided to tease him a little bit by holding his ear and leaning in a little closer. "I'm sorry, what was that? I don't think I quite heard you?" he said, smirking. His brother was all about Pokemon, and while Paris would never admit it, he had his own little "collection" of games back in his dorm, hidden away so his older brother would never catch him playing. In fact, Paris had just started playing the Perfect Platinum that Pres was talking about. It was the Sinnoh remake the younger Andrews had been looking forward to.

The elder shot his younger brother the stink eye, raising an eyebrow and leaning away ever-so-slightly away to protect what personal space he had left - if such a thing existed between any of the siblings. "You wouldn't understand anyways. You're not a serious gamer," Preston boasted with a casual shrug. He near-danced around the kitchen, stepping around Paris and getting the sweet sauces and toppings at the ready. "Women always appreciate a man with skill. You'll learn soon enough."

Paris nodded skeptically, backing a step away to give Pres the room he needed. "Mhm sure, although usually the skills need to apply to real life, not about a game where you battle little animals and throw your balls at them," he replied. "So what toppings are you actually gonna put on the pizza?"

Had Preston been younger and far less mature than he so clearly was now, he might have thought that his little brother was just begging to be decked in the pokeballs. That is, he might have thrown the closest spare DS he had at his face, but there were more important things to attend to at the moment. He was starting to starve himself. "I'm thinking cheese, pepperoni, sausage, pineapple..." Because who didn't put pineapple on their pizza?

"Pineapple? What kind of monster are you?" Paris asked, completely disgusted. Pineapple on pizza was the lowest blow Preston could have ever dealt to the boy. "I really hope you're joking, 'cause I'm good with the rest of the toppings," he added. "Just please don't put pineapple on it. I'd rather eat anchovies."

The Autumn shook his head, in severe, solemn disappointment in the dear, young Paris. "You'll learn in time, pineapple is God's gift to this world." He strode around the kitchen, finishing his masterpiece and sparing the fruit, if only for his lost brother's sake. "Delicious and it works wonders, once you get a girl-"

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

The oven sounded off in a shrill manner that never failed to make Pres flinch. He shrugged off their major disagreement and stuffed their dinner away inside for the time being. "Alright. You can't cook. Can't game. What can you do that will impress the ladies?"

Paris was at a loss for words. "I uh. I-I," he stammered, unable to actually form a sentence. His face was a pinkish color and it felt hot. What was Preston's rush on getting him with a girl? He was only 15; he had plenty of time! He should worry about himself. The younger Andrews wished he could've said all this out loud but the words just wouldn't form. So he resigned to crossing his arms and staring daggers at his older brother. Curse this stutter! It only appeared when he was embarrassed or frustrated, and it only served to frustrate him even more.