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Jul. 10th, 2010 05:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
It was pouring and he was drunk. Those were the only two thoughts he could keep in his head. No, three things. Pouring, drunk, and the fact that he fucking loathed Sergievsky. How Florence could have put up with him at all was something he didn't want to think about. It was lucky for him that he couldn't think. All he knew was his next destination was home, or at least what passed for home.
Nothing looked right, though. That cluster of trees. Wasn't it supposed to be over there? Or was he supposed to walk through them? Hell. He should have brought a drink back with him.
He closed his eyes, leaned back against a tree, and closed his eyes. He'd just stay for a little while. A few minutes.
Nothing looked right, though. That cluster of trees. Wasn't it supposed to be over there? Or was he supposed to walk through them? Hell. He should have brought a drink back with him.
He closed his eyes, leaned back against a tree, and closed his eyes. He'd just stay for a little while. A few minutes.
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Date: 2010-07-16 02:32 am (UTC)Of course, she remembered, it wasn't as if they had ever explicitly said that they were exclusive. It was implied, sure, but...
God, he was a good kisser.
Retroactive sex.
"Well, let's get out of these wet clothes before we catch our deaths." Maureen had always been weak.
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Date: 2010-07-16 10:34 pm (UTC)Good enough that when she suggested getting out of the wet clothes, his shirt was up and off without another thought, completely forgetting about the pattern of scratches and bruises still covering his skin. He dropped it where he was and started toeing out of his shoes.
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Date: 2010-07-17 12:59 am (UTC)"Oh, sugar!" She moved closer to him and slid a palm gently onto a clear spot on his chest. "Are you all right? You didn't fight with Roger again did you?"
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Date: 2010-07-17 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-17 03:21 pm (UTC)But one of Maureen's problems had always been that she didn't tend to think with her chest. Or her head. But something much, much lower.
"It makes you look sort of... dangerous," she said with a small, quirked smile. The white dress was still hanging off of her, soaked with water. She was wearing light blue underthings underneath. They too were wet.
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Date: 2010-07-18 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-19 01:11 am (UTC)Then she smiled and walked back toward her bedroom, assuming he'd follow.
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Date: 2010-07-19 01:32 am (UTC)