Locked to masterofmetals and untchable_angel

[untchable_angel]

Rogue prepares herself carefully, practicing breathing exercises and stopping to check her reflection in the lobby mirror. Deciding that she's as ready as she'll ever be, she approaches the restaurant hostess

Comments

[masterofmetals]

He shows up a few moments later, right on time - not a minute too soon, nor a minute too late. And he's dressed as normally as Rogue has probably ever seen him. Burgandy dress shirt, black slacks and loafers, and a grey trenchcoat to protect him from the wintery chill that's slipped into the air after the sun's gone down

Re:

[untchable_angel]

After a moment, she slowly raises her eyes to his.

"Eric," she replies, her smirk an exact copy of his. "So good of you to join me. Please, have a seat."

She raises the cigarette to her lips, taking a long slow drag then blowing the smoke out. Pointedly not directly at him. "Nasty habit, ah know. Ah picked it up right after the Statue of Liberty..."

Re:

[masterofmetals]

"I see," he responds coolly, as he slides into a seat. "Though somehow, I doubt your new vice is fault of mine."

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[untchable_angel]

"And ah'm quite sure that you doubt any of mah problems are in any way your fault. How are you, Eric?"

Her eyes are icy, very reminiscent of the man sitting across from her.