(Untitled)

[whiteabsolution]

Sugar is sitting in a booth, all alone, with books and magazines spread out in front of her. She was going to try her best to learn all she could about the different time periods after her, their music, their clothing, their art; everything she read was pushed to the back of her mind and saved for later. Once in a while she tears out a page of a

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[misterparker]

Parker is staring sullenly at the door and drinking whiskey earlier than usual. Someone is not happy.

[misterparker]

"You laugh, Sugar, but people get in, it's what they're good at."

He tilts his head. "People want to find mates, and even when they aren't perfect, it's sometimes close enough."

[whiteabsolution]

She looks down at her lap. "Rubbish." A small mutter.

[misterparker]

"Like an STD, you catch 'em and they kill you in the end."

[whiteabsolution]

Sugar tears pieces off a napkin. "Have you ever been in love, Parker?" She asks curiously, wondering if this bitterness is from a first hand account.

[misterparker]

"Yes," Parker says.

[whiteabsolution]

"Do tell." The blonde requests.

[misterparker]

"No," Parker shakes his head.

[whiteabsolution]

Sugar shrugs. "Fine then."

[misterparker]

Parker scratches down his room number on a napkin.

"If you ever need to crash somewhere."

[whiteabsolution]

"Thankyou." Taking the room number from him, eyes going from the white napkin to his face, a warm smile crossing her features.

[misterparker]

His lip twitches.

"Rent free," he promises. In all forms.

[whiteabsolution]

Sugar arches a brow. "Fantastic."

[misterparker]

Standing, "See you around."

[whiteabsolution]

"Tra." She waves a hand.

[misterparker]

He meanders upstairs.