[RP for Rina] Honey now if I'm honest I still don't know what love is...
Two o'clock her time, Marcus smiled. That was...now. He'd give her a little while to cool down from work, take a shower and whatever else she normally did when getting home from the garden center. Half an hour, forty-five minutes. That should do it. In the meantime, the nineteen year old had things of his own to do: change his clothes, fix his hair, cover up his newly earned summer freckles with some foundation and powder. Oh, and there were flowers in the kitchen that he wanted to trim the stems of and rewrap in something pretty.
Part of him wondered why he was taking flowers to the girl who worked with plants all day long but he settled the argument by telling himself that this is what was done when playing at wooing the hot babe. And Marcus did like to play with Rina, in all sorts of ways. She was beautiful and fun, would let him be as serious as he felt like being and if what he wanted was affection and a solid distraction from heartache, she was the one he turned to. She was getting flowers.
His tasks done, the apartment empty save for himself and an orange ball of fluff, Marcus pulled out his PINpoint device and pressed a few buttons. Wonderful, magical little gadget that let him pretend for a while that he was the púca his father was or that his cousins were. He could make use of shortcuts and folding time and do it without drawing attention to himself or getting sick. It was amazing...
And he was in Montana. Right where he wanted to be, the drive leading up to the Ashmuller's house. A few minutes walk and Marcus was knocking on the front door, flowers held behind his back and a very serious expression on his face.
Part of him wondered why he was taking flowers to the girl who worked with plants all day long but he settled the argument by telling himself that this is what was done when playing at wooing the hot babe. And Marcus did like to play with Rina, in all sorts of ways. She was beautiful and fun, would let him be as serious as he felt like being and if what he wanted was affection and a solid distraction from heartache, she was the one he turned to. She was getting flowers.
His tasks done, the apartment empty save for himself and an orange ball of fluff, Marcus pulled out his PINpoint device and pressed a few buttons. Wonderful, magical little gadget that let him pretend for a while that he was the púca his father was or that his cousins were. He could make use of shortcuts and folding time and do it without drawing attention to himself or getting sick. It was amazing...
And he was in Montana. Right where he wanted to be, the drive leading up to the Ashmuller's house. A few minutes walk and Marcus was knocking on the front door, flowers held behind his back and a very serious expression on his face.