Day 56: Wicker Street (morning)
It was a serious decision he faced, and, since he couldn't talk to Matt privately, Mello spent most of the bus ride in sullen contemplation of it: would his dignity suffer more from eating inferior chocolate, or from having to go to a toy store to buy the decent stuff?
In the end, he concluded that the annoyance that'd be over with the faster was the one he could deal with better, and he took the lead when he and Matt got off the bus, walking slowly towards the store. He didn't have any intention of having this conversation where they could be overheard, and he definitely wasn't going to have it surrounded by the local brats whingeing for a toy or a sweet, and he waited until they'd put some distance between themselves and the other prisoners before speaking.
"I ran into some dumbfuckery in the hall. Otherwise, I would've been there. You know that." He knew Matt was one of the few people on earth who would've been able to translate that as an apology, and, given the circumstances, Mello didn't mind for once. His steps slowed further; he was aware of the soft sift of falling snow, its crunch under his boots, and his question came out hushed and low. "How bad was it?"
[for his heterowhatever lifemate]
In the end, he concluded that the annoyance that'd be over with the faster was the one he could deal with better, and he took the lead when he and Matt got off the bus, walking slowly towards the store. He didn't have any intention of having this conversation where they could be overheard, and he definitely wasn't going to have it surrounded by the local brats whingeing for a toy or a sweet, and he waited until they'd put some distance between themselves and the other prisoners before speaking.
"I ran into some dumbfuckery in the hall. Otherwise, I would've been there. You know that." He knew Matt was one of the few people on earth who would've been able to translate that as an apology, and, given the circumstances, Mello didn't mind for once. His steps slowed further; he was aware of the soft sift of falling snow, its crunch under his boots, and his question came out hushed and low. "How bad was it?"
[for his heterowhatever lifemate]