A tall, lean man in faded jeans, a well-worn white button-down shirt, a loose tan suede jacket and a pair of steel-toed Wolverines that had seen better days appears in the Sorting Room. He looks around and runs a hand through his scruffy blond hair in puzzlement, and then his blue eyes fall upon the table of application forms. He ambles over, picks
(
Read more... )
"Pepper. Jack. Cheeseburgers. They are godly. You bite into one, and angels sing. Good choice."
Reply
Reply
Reply
He laughs. "Some parts of it there are, I've lived in those. Traded up to an exurb outside Austin at the moment, so I've kind of got the best of both worlds. Small towns at my back and a big city in front of me."
Reply
She giggled. "So are you a born and bred, flag-carrying, remember the Alamo, Texan?"
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
She looked at his answer to the Hufflepuff question. Hmm. "So you’re a bartender? Because there aren’t many bartenders who know, off-hand, the locations of ancient ruins."
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment