Author's Note: Nothing really to say. I know it's short, but you can't really drag out such a small subject, can you? There will be other parts and pieces to add after this, but for now, this can stand on it's own.

"Ending March" At The End Of April * By: Seph Lorraine

April's on its way, and we all know what that means. It's always the same around this time of year-- no exceptions. The skies are overcast, as usual, but the warmth of the atmosphere is just enough to please, as the chilled wind nips at your fingers. It's always been this way, since as long as I can remember.

Now, it's the same-- just in a different place.

Lazily, I fumble around with the pick between my thumb and forefinger before dragging it in a slow relaxed strum across the strings of my guitar. It's a good day for playing, and I love to play. Guitar is really my only talent; I discovered this when I first received one on my 14th birthday. It's only been four years since then, but I've been told I'm an excellent player.

Though, people do lie.

I still like to play, though.

I move my left hand to press the strings and they resound nicely as I strum. Today I'm not really focusing, I guess. My fingers jumble and I find myself too tired to think of a thing to play. It's the damn weather, I'm well aware. Always making me so tired.

I hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway and peer up from my position behind one of the pillars of the front porch. The yellow mustang gleams nicely against the bare light that escaped the overcast sky. -Someone- just got their car cleaned.

I watch stoically as he climbs our of the car, closing the door softly and locking it. He stands back a few metres and admires the fine beauty of his vehical and sighs in a way that could be mistaken for the lovesick sigh of a school boy. How he loves his car.

I'll admit it is a nice car, though, I don't see why he's so obssessed over it. What is it with men and cars? I don't think I shall ever understand.

His smile beams blindingly and makes me want to bleed. This man's very existance makes me want to bury myself in a hull of bitter darkness. Oh, why can't I?

After a ten-minute long silent examination of his beautiful 'steed', the beast looks up to notice me. Am I so fortunate as to be acknowledged this day? Is that sarcasm dripping from my voice? Ha! Where ever did that silly idea come from?

"Sephi! Look at her!" He gestures wildly to his car, "Isn't she beautiful? I got her custom washed and all fixed up." He admires the car some more and I roll my eyes.

"Oh, yes. So lovely." I'll never understand men and their cars. Strangely, I really don't care to.

"She's beautiful." He shakes his head whistfully staring longingly at the lovely yellow finish.

If that car had legs he would fuck it. I know he would.

"Why is it a 'she'?" I blinked, resting my chin lazily atop of my acoustic.

His eyes clouded, searching for a particular answer.

"I think a male car would suit you better." I strum lazily against the strings again, resisting a smirk as he turns his horrified blue eyes upon me.

"A car can't be -male-! Are you -insane-? Maybe if I were gay--"

"You sure act like it."

"I'm not gay. My car is a -female-! Her name is -Alexis-." He raises an eyebrow in that cocky manner of his, "You don't have to be jealous. There's enough of me for you, too."

I take the moment to bathe my mind in the disgusting meaning behind that offer, "I would rather cut off my eyelids and gaze into the sun."

He's now giving -me- the eyebrow-rolling treatment? "Yea, right." The beast twirls the keys absently around his finger and whistles slightly as he heads up to the porch to open the front door and enter the Domain.

"I still think it's a 'he'." I release another lazy strum against the chords, "And his name is Arnold."

The man, now beside me, spun around with wide eyes, "NO! You -cannot- name my -female- car -ARNOLD-!"

"But it's a male car."

"Alexis is very much female."

"Show me her uterus, and I shall agree."

"She's a -car-, Seph. She can't have a uterus."

"And if 'she' can't have a uterus, then she's not a -female-."

"Well, 'he' doesn't have a dick, either."

"Well neither do you!"

"...I have a dick, thank you very much. My -car- does -not-!"

"Cars can't have dicks, Ein. They're just cars."

I smirk openly now, noticing his pale face is tinted with the redness of aggrivation. Oh, how I do love to make him angry.

"It's a -female-, Seph."

"I still say it's a male. And his name is Arnold."

"NO! You -CAN'T- name my car -ARNOLD-!"

"But I already did!"

He throws his hands up, opening the door forcefully and slamming it shut behind him as he enters the Domain. He's not really angry, of course. It takes something large to really get through his thick skull and evoke some form of real anger. I still say his car is Arnold... and it's a male.

I glance back at the door where Ein has just entered the Domain, and then back to that shiney yellow sports-car in the drive. I'll never understand guys and their cars. I haven't gotten to really see his new mustang upclose yet, and I am tempted to go take a look, but as I think to stand up, I suddenly feel that earlier mentioned laziness, once more.

I strum lazily on my guitar again, all strings open this time, and sigh as I glare up at the slowly darkening evening sky. It's still overcast, and I feel the atmosphere as it thickly absorbs into my skin. April's almost here, and I'm so tired today.

I blame it on the weather and I'm sure Arnold agrees with me.