JUST ONE MORE HIT... THEN THAT'S IT.
WHO: Macbeth and Roderich.
WHEN: September 29th - September 30th
WHERE: Home Sweet Home
WHAT: Did you really expect the Scotsman to come home sober?
RATING: Rated M and R.
Just one more sip. Then that's it.
Roderich slumped against the comfort of the armchair. Tired eyes stared at the door handle, waiting, expecting, hoping for it to turn down and reveal the pale, freckled skin of his roommate - his roommate that he had not seen in days. While he knew they weren't particularly the best of friends, he would've thought Macbeth would care enough to let him know his whereabouts or if he was at least in a safe place.
Especially considering what happened last time.
His hand lazily lifted up the glass to his lips. A soft groan released after the red wine traveled down his throat. Bad wine; it must be French. It was just one glass to calm his nerves. It was left-over from dinner. That was perfectly reasonable enough, wasn't it? He wasn't out in a pub, drowning his sorrows with strangers who could possibly harm him.
The exact opposite of what Macbeth was doing. Unbeknown to him, of course.
He lowered his hand again, eyes still lingering on the closed door. His vision blurred. He blinked. Hazily, he checked the time. Almost close to midnight now. Macbeth said he would come home and they would talk about the other night. They were supposed to talk...
His heart jumped a beat. Where was Macbeth...?
Just one more sip... then that's it.
WHEN: September 29th - September 30th
WHERE: Home Sweet Home
WHAT: Did you really expect the Scotsman to come home sober?
RATING: Rated M and R.
Just one more sip. Then that's it.
Roderich slumped against the comfort of the armchair. Tired eyes stared at the door handle, waiting, expecting, hoping for it to turn down and reveal the pale, freckled skin of his roommate - his roommate that he had not seen in days. While he knew they weren't particularly the best of friends, he would've thought Macbeth would care enough to let him know his whereabouts or if he was at least in a safe place.
Especially considering what happened last time.
His hand lazily lifted up the glass to his lips. A soft groan released after the red wine traveled down his throat. Bad wine; it must be French. It was just one glass to calm his nerves. It was left-over from dinner. That was perfectly reasonable enough, wasn't it? He wasn't out in a pub, drowning his sorrows with strangers who could possibly harm him.
The exact opposite of what Macbeth was doing. Unbeknown to him, of course.
He lowered his hand again, eyes still lingering on the closed door. His vision blurred. He blinked. Hazily, he checked the time. Almost close to midnight now. Macbeth said he would come home and they would talk about the other night. They were supposed to talk...
His heart jumped a beat. Where was Macbeth...?
Just one more sip... then that's it.