Romeo had, it was true, said several times yesterday that he wouldn't go looking for a fight ( Read more... )

The nice thing about living on the ocean was there was a lot of beach to mope on, and Romeo was prepared to take full advantage of it.

He might just dive into the water and not come back up. That was seeming the attractive option, then.

( And someone approached. )

( Saturday morning, on the beach )

As he spread out his blanket, Romeo was grateful that habit compelled him to often take his thoughts to the beach. It meant he'd easily remembered this quiet nook, a perfect place for a picnic.

He took a seat and glanced down the beach, smoothing his hair into place again and trying not to fidget. He knew Yurika would be along soon.

It wasn't as good as the beaches in Mexico, but there was sand and rocks and water, so there was a Romeo.

Who was very surprised that, when he meant to pick up a pen and write in his journal, he started to sing instead.

So I never knew love until I crossed the line of grace ( Read more... )

It was a cold day, and quiet on the beach, but anyone out for a walk might notice a blond seated on a rock, hugging himself as he stared at the water. A pen and notepad were by his side, but he wasn't actually writing anything.

The last few days couldn't be real. Him, a con man named Frank? It must be some kind of delusion caused by drinking too ( Read more... )