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When it comes down to making decisions, Daisy's always been good at doing them in the blink of an eye and dealing with the consequences later. After all, that's basically the morale of every love story she's gone and gotten herself into. Bags packed, outfits with her, makeup and everything she owns, there she stands outside Max's door, in her

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That sort of exclamation typically signals something wrong, but Max doesn't hurry to the door, and the only indicator of any worry is the expression on his face when he pulls it open. That shifts swiftly into confusion as he takes in everything Daisy has with her, and he arches his brows, a lit cigarette dangling precariously from his lips.

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Daisy just beams away at him and gestures to herself, striking a pretty pose. "Surprise, new roomie," she informs him in the way that says that he doesn't exactly have much argument whatsoever about the fact that his home's about to be invaded. "Now, just how much light do you get in the mornings in this place?"

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"Uh," Max begins, momentarily bewildered but going with this change of plan easily enough. It was almost like home, in a way, people coming and going all the time, only some of them familiar. "I really don't know, Jude had his own hut." This makes sense, you see, because Jude was an artist and actually gave a shit about things like lighting.

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Daisy doesn't really let herself get too bogged down in the hows and whys of how he doesn't really answer any of her question at all. No, she just hefts up her bag and kisses his cheek as she wanders into the hut. "Not bad at all," she deigns of the place. "Now, let's talk sleeping arrangements."

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"Yes, let's," Max agrees with a quirking, vaguely devious smile, and exhales a stream of smoke instinctively out the front door. Somehow, Daisy just doesn't strike him as the kind of chick who appreciates smoking in her house, and it hasn't occurred to Max that it was his house first.

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She's already putting her things down and making judgmental looks about the place. "Now, honestly, I know there's no place to buy proper linens, but we'll still try to make the best of this," she says critically. "I wouldn't dream of imposing in any kind of sleeping way, so of course we'll have separate beds. We'll get the big strong men to get you something straightaway, of course!" she goes on brightly.

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There are a lot of things in that statement to be offended by, most notably that not only is Daisy apparently appropriating Max's bed, but she's kicking him out of it, not to mention that she doesn't classify him as a 'big, strong man.' He supposes he can give her that last one, though.

"Hold up, hold up," he protests with a lift of an outward palm. "Look, Daisy. I like you. I like you a lot, actually, and I'm happy to let you room with me, but I'm not sleeping on the floor."

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"Who said anything about the floor?" she asks, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "We'll get a second bed in here posthaste, I just didn't want you thinking you were going to be screwing me," she drawls with a sharp look over her shoulder. "If you sleep on a self-made couch for a couple hours while I snap my fingers at some boys, so be it, but I wouldn't dare give that pretty little behind of yours a crick."

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"How thoughtful of you," Max drawls with a soft snort. Finished with his cigarette, he stubs it out against the door frame and flicks it expertly into the bushes. "Just as long as I've got a bed, then. I don't expect to screw you." Although he'd certainly been hoping, as it's been awhile, and what's a little roll in the hay amongst friends?

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"Well, good, because it'd be absolutely horrible," she says perkily, a smile on her face. "Not to demean you, but honey, I haven't had a bout of good practicing in oh, well, let's call it three years to round up and men just do not know how to tax a girl's patience."

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"It's like riding a bike," Max asserts, like he has ever gone without sex long enough to really know. "You never forget how, and besides, you just do what feels good." Now that he's an expert on, although he isn't sure why he's debating this with Daisy at all, considering he's just been relegated to a platonic relationship.

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"Well, then I'll keep drinking, smoking, and delighting my beautiful skin in as many facials as I can afford it," she guarantees without missing a single beat, a flicker of a broad beam on her face. "I feel delightful in that instance."