004. Fresh Tea For A Fresh Start
5:56
"Mph," claimed the slumbering fox, his sleep soon broken by the electrical cry of his alarm clock.
Cameron was never a morning person. This was clear by the fact that he used his recently purchased Bible to beat the appliance into silence. There was an unheard snarl muted into the girth of his purple feather pillow as the man slowly crawled up into a sit, body in a nest of expensive cotton sheets. He ran his hands over his face, rubbing the edges to his frighteningly blue night mask before peeling it off.
These days were simply routine. Get up. Go take a piss and wash your face. Head out to the hall to bang on Taega's door (as Taega was never a morning person either). And then out to the kitchen to put on the coffee and tea.
Fingers scratched at an itch under the pricey white underwear Cameron never seemed to be able to stop buying. They were a decent style of boxer-brief, even if they looked like they were made for a woman. Cameron always called them bitch-pants and did so proudly as the style showed off his keester rather nicely. His footsteps stopped at the kitchenette of their Canadian loft, dancing when he reached the ice cold tile floor.
He gave a whining grumble before clicking on the two pots near the refrigerator; tea for Cameron, coffee for Taega. The blonde leaned forward on the edge of the counter, letting his uncombed hair fall around his face with a tired sigh.
"Mph," claimed the slumbering fox, his sleep soon broken by the electrical cry of his alarm clock.
Cameron was never a morning person. This was clear by the fact that he used his recently purchased Bible to beat the appliance into silence. There was an unheard snarl muted into the girth of his purple feather pillow as the man slowly crawled up into a sit, body in a nest of expensive cotton sheets. He ran his hands over his face, rubbing the edges to his frighteningly blue night mask before peeling it off.
These days were simply routine. Get up. Go take a piss and wash your face. Head out to the hall to bang on Taega's door (as Taega was never a morning person either). And then out to the kitchen to put on the coffee and tea.
Fingers scratched at an itch under the pricey white underwear Cameron never seemed to be able to stop buying. They were a decent style of boxer-brief, even if they looked like they were made for a woman. Cameron always called them bitch-pants and did so proudly as the style showed off his keester rather nicely. His footsteps stopped at the kitchenette of their Canadian loft, dancing when he reached the ice cold tile floor.
He gave a whining grumble before clicking on the two pots near the refrigerator; tea for Cameron, coffee for Taega. The blonde leaned forward on the edge of the counter, letting his uncombed hair fall around his face with a tired sigh.