Who: Mello, Cloud and Nagi. Where: Nagi's place. When: New years. Summary: Mello is gonna crash Nagi's place, and decided to drag Cloud along. Rating: PG-13? Other: No go away.
To be entirely honest, Nagi had largely forgotten about Mello's threat-promise to drop by on New Year's with drinks -- mostly because there were so many other things that he had to worry about, but also partly because he was hoping the other would forget, as well. And so he'd spent the greater part of the day in peaceful solitude -- moving around too much was still a strain to his body -- indulging in the traditions to herald in the New Year. Cleaning, mostly, and burning incense at the tiny shrine in the corner of his apartment, for his wife. And it was only after the sun had set and the sharp rap came at his door that he remembered Mello's forced invitation. Which, really, was much too late to do anything.
A long moment of hesitation, unsure of what exactly to do -- should he fake sick? not answer? no, the lights were on, it was probably obvious that he was in -- before he eventually called towards the door, with a certain amount of uneasy tension tinging his words. "Ah -- yes, coming."And he was painfully conscious of the way that
( ... )
"Stop pulling me," Cloud hissed at Mello half-heartedly. It wasn't by his own will that he was dragged into this tiny social event -- it was Mello whining piteously, threatening. It was Mello worrying aloud that he might fall on the ice and all, did Cloud want that to happen? It was Mello being a cruel, manipulative bastard.
So he stood, looking as half-hearted and weary as he felt, behind the blond as the door opened and a messy-haired, fussed-appearing man looked out at him. An artificial voice, strange. Cloud nodded hesitantly at him, then looked at Mello more than a little desperately. Save me from a social situation.
Mello wrapped an arm around Cloud’s neck in a languidly fashion, tugging at him roughly before the door was open, his mouth graced a violent smirk; playing a game of rough-house with the other until the door opened. When it did, blue hues went straight to Nagi’s amputated arm, and he gave off a snort, releasing the other blonde’s neck and staggered inwards to the apartment.
"Tch, Nagi, you know I’m going to have a talk with you later on." Mello muttered under his breath. He wasn’t disappointed that Nagi got his damn arm shot off or whatever the hell happened to him, he was just being mildly curious and he set down the bag of bottles on the nearest surface. His gloved hands took a hold of the edge of the table and he turned around.
"Cloud, this is Nagi. Nagi, this guy is Cloud." Lips twitched and a dry humorless laughter left his mouth.
Stepping aside politely to let the other two in, Nagi cast a cautious glance out into the apartment corridor -- just to make sure that no one else was around -- before closing the door and stepping back in. Unable to hide the slightest flinch at the muttered words. No doubt it would be about his new -- lack of a limb, a matter that he was hardly eager to talk about.
Still, what was done was done, and he'd have to handle that matter when the time came. Walking back towards the living room where Mello had laid claim to the table -- the crowd of bottles looking oddly out of place in the neat room -- he still had a slight limp to his step. (Bullet wounds didn't heal that fast.) Tried to hide it, though, as he stood a short distance away, looking unsure of what exactly to do.
Eventually, though, he turned towards Cloud with a weak sort of smile, extending his hand. "Um -- as he said. A pleasure to meet you?"
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A long moment of hesitation, unsure of what exactly to do -- should he fake sick? not answer? no, the lights were on, it was probably obvious that he was in -- before he eventually called towards the door, with a certain amount of uneasy tension tinging his words. "Ah -- yes, coming."And he was painfully conscious of the way that ( ... )
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So he stood, looking as half-hearted and weary as he felt, behind the blond as the door opened and a messy-haired, fussed-appearing man looked out at him. An artificial voice, strange. Cloud nodded hesitantly at him, then looked at Mello more than a little desperately. Save me from a social situation.
He looked back at the stranger. "Uh. Hey."
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"Tch, Nagi, you know I’m going to have a talk with you later on." Mello muttered under his breath. He wasn’t disappointed that Nagi got his damn arm shot off or whatever the hell happened to him, he was just being mildly curious and he set down the bag of bottles on the nearest surface. His gloved hands took a hold of the edge of the table and he turned around.
"Cloud, this is Nagi. Nagi, this guy is Cloud." Lips twitched and a dry humorless laughter left his mouth.
Reply
Still, what was done was done, and he'd have to handle that matter when the time came. Walking back towards the living room where Mello had laid claim to the table -- the crowd of bottles looking oddly out of place in the neat room -- he still had a slight limp to his step. (Bullet wounds didn't heal that fast.) Tried to hide it, though, as he stood a short distance away, looking unsure of what exactly to do.
Eventually, though, he turned towards Cloud with a weak sort of smile, extending his hand. "Um -- as he said. A pleasure to meet you?"
Reply
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