after all, I'm still a jerk playing with matches

[wholenineyards.livejournal.com]

[back to the library for this Demyx, looking tired and cold. he's curled up in a bundle of blankets, sitting in front of one of the many fireplaces scattered around the large room. he's been trying to get a fire going for a while, but every time the matches burn down to his fingers without lighting the wood and he ends up tossing them away with a curse. he's gone through most of them at this point, rattling the little box around to judge how many are left]

Dicks, why is this so hard to do?

[he strikes another match against the box, waiting to see if maybe this time the wood will catch...]