[closed/incomplete]
WHO: Elena Gabrieli (suits_me) and Duo Maxwell (duoperpetuo)
WHAT: Duo brings over the necessities for a drink that involves setting it on fire. No really.
WHERE: Elena's apartment
WHEN: Day 142 (backlogged like whoa)
He hadn't wasted any time in snatching up the lighter fluid from Mugen's cabinet, darting out of the door in whatever he'd been wearing at the time, though he paused to look down at his arm before pulling on the leather jacket. Duo's brow knitted together for a second.
Gripping the metal snake-shaped object that wound around his upper arm, he shuddered, muttering out loud to himself.
"...the fuck, man, could I be anymore of a fag, here?" He'd been drunk the night before when he'd let some random girl buy it and shove it up along his forearm and up to the part where his bicep would stop it from advancing too much farther. It had seemed like some hysterical joke at the time, but now that he was sober and looking at it, it was kind of hideous.
He half snorted, softly, tossing the thing with a clatter onto the kitchen counter before he pivoted, pulling his jacket on with a single practiced movement, as if he were throwing it onto himself.
Duo made his way to the bike that that Roger guy had helped him to pick out. It was a sweet enough ride, considering he wouldn't be here for more than a month or two. He'd probably miss it, or even try to get it shipped back to the States when he had to go back.
Except Duo didn't want to think about going back. It left a nasty taste, like the taste of a hangover and coffee, chewed aspirin, in the back of his throat.
So instead, he swung his leg over the bike (he still hadn't named it yet, damn, maybe the girl he was going to meet would be able to help him think of one). Duo tucked the helmet over his head--a nondescript, sleek black one that kept his face unrecognizable, and then he made sure that his braid was under the jacket, coiled gently under the leather like a living part of him.
With the lighter fluid secured in the pack strapped to his side/chest, and on his way to pick up the Curacao and the drinking glasses that he'd spotted a week back but had no reason to buy, Duo found his mood drastically taking a turn for the better.
No, make that...
Fuckin' amazing.
He managed to wrap up the glasses and everything else in the pack, and then after determining just where Elena's apartment was in relation to his place, he jetted off to find her.
This just had to be promising--a girl with a tolerance, a chick that liked to set shit on fire.
His kinda night, really. Even if he'd...forgotten his 151.
Fuck.
By the time he'd gotten there, it was too late to turn around for it, and Duo shrugged his shoulders, letting out a low breath of air as he parked, moving up the stairs to find her door. At the same moment he knocked with his left hand, his right was working to pull the helmet off. It would be halfway off by the time she came to the door, showing the strong curve of his jaw, but the softness of his mouth at the same time.
That mouth was curled into a slight smile, only curved upward on one side.
Looks like he'd be getting plastered on whatever he'd bought and whatever she had at her place.
WHAT: Duo brings over the necessities for a drink that involves setting it on fire. No really.
WHERE: Elena's apartment
WHEN: Day 142 (backlogged like whoa)
He hadn't wasted any time in snatching up the lighter fluid from Mugen's cabinet, darting out of the door in whatever he'd been wearing at the time, though he paused to look down at his arm before pulling on the leather jacket. Duo's brow knitted together for a second.
Gripping the metal snake-shaped object that wound around his upper arm, he shuddered, muttering out loud to himself.
"...the fuck, man, could I be anymore of a fag, here?" He'd been drunk the night before when he'd let some random girl buy it and shove it up along his forearm and up to the part where his bicep would stop it from advancing too much farther. It had seemed like some hysterical joke at the time, but now that he was sober and looking at it, it was kind of hideous.
He half snorted, softly, tossing the thing with a clatter onto the kitchen counter before he pivoted, pulling his jacket on with a single practiced movement, as if he were throwing it onto himself.
Duo made his way to the bike that that Roger guy had helped him to pick out. It was a sweet enough ride, considering he wouldn't be here for more than a month or two. He'd probably miss it, or even try to get it shipped back to the States when he had to go back.
Except Duo didn't want to think about going back. It left a nasty taste, like the taste of a hangover and coffee, chewed aspirin, in the back of his throat.
So instead, he swung his leg over the bike (he still hadn't named it yet, damn, maybe the girl he was going to meet would be able to help him think of one). Duo tucked the helmet over his head--a nondescript, sleek black one that kept his face unrecognizable, and then he made sure that his braid was under the jacket, coiled gently under the leather like a living part of him.
With the lighter fluid secured in the pack strapped to his side/chest, and on his way to pick up the Curacao and the drinking glasses that he'd spotted a week back but had no reason to buy, Duo found his mood drastically taking a turn for the better.
No, make that...
Fuckin' amazing.
He managed to wrap up the glasses and everything else in the pack, and then after determining just where Elena's apartment was in relation to his place, he jetted off to find her.
This just had to be promising--a girl with a tolerance, a chick that liked to set shit on fire.
His kinda night, really. Even if he'd...forgotten his 151.
Fuck.
By the time he'd gotten there, it was too late to turn around for it, and Duo shrugged his shoulders, letting out a low breath of air as he parked, moving up the stairs to find her door. At the same moment he knocked with his left hand, his right was working to pull the helmet off. It would be halfway off by the time she came to the door, showing the strong curve of his jaw, but the softness of his mouth at the same time.
That mouth was curled into a slight smile, only curved upward on one side.
Looks like he'd be getting plastered on whatever he'd bought and whatever she had at her place.