Kiss and Swallow
WHO: Ivan and Alfred
WHEN: Friday July 30th, Evening
WHERE: The Green Palace Tea House
WHAT: One chance might be one too many.
If Ivan could find a way to draw another's blood from an intact teacup, Alfred would be his first subject - but there were two missing factors: namely, that Alfred was still missing, and that the wrong object had leaked through his fingers. The feel of a porcelain cup felt more akin to ashy paper, but he let the cigarette dangle in his teeth while his fingers dug through his pockets for his lighter. To avoid the moist wind collecting on his coat, he shielded the flame with a cupped hand and introduced the flame to the end of his cigarette, then breathed a cloud of smoke out into the late evening rain. He idly watched the pearly white serpents of smoke rise from the orange flare.
As he turned his head to look at the clouded skies just beyond the jade green awning, a certain American marched from the light of the streetlamps, and into Ivan's lantern-lit vision. As the blonde approached, Ivan found each smoked inhale deeper, until they were within feet of each other. The Russian breathed a cloud of smoke between them, cast the cigarette down onto the damp pavement, and crushed it out with the heel of his boot.
"You're late."
WHEN: Friday July 30th, Evening
WHERE: The Green Palace Tea House
WHAT: One chance might be one too many.
If Ivan could find a way to draw another's blood from an intact teacup, Alfred would be his first subject - but there were two missing factors: namely, that Alfred was still missing, and that the wrong object had leaked through his fingers. The feel of a porcelain cup felt more akin to ashy paper, but he let the cigarette dangle in his teeth while his fingers dug through his pockets for his lighter. To avoid the moist wind collecting on his coat, he shielded the flame with a cupped hand and introduced the flame to the end of his cigarette, then breathed a cloud of smoke out into the late evening rain. He idly watched the pearly white serpents of smoke rise from the orange flare.
As he turned his head to look at the clouded skies just beyond the jade green awning, a certain American marched from the light of the streetlamps, and into Ivan's lantern-lit vision. As the blonde approached, Ivan found each smoked inhale deeper, until they were within feet of each other. The Russian breathed a cloud of smoke between them, cast the cigarette down onto the damp pavement, and crushed it out with the heel of his boot.
"You're late."