Coffee with Fred
Jun. 22nd, 2006 07:56 amHe wasn't accustomed to having coffee later with people he'd so thoroughly seduced, but then, she'd been nice to him before that and after that and didn't seem to be running away, ans she'd offered to let him talk and he'd already apparently told her about Warren, so that made her slightly safer to talk to than the redhead who he barely knew.
He called her and invited her for coffee. He arrived at Starbucks a little early, parking the bike, then fidgeting outside on the step while he waited for her. He lit up one of his clove cigarettes, moving away from the door to the ashtray a bit further down. People might have given him disapproving looks on his own account, but at least no one coughed pointedly at him.
He was still fidgety, but at least the nicotine helped a bit. And there would be coffee. Which might make him fidget more. But it would be good and she was a calming sort and he might not end up talking about Warren at all, really, even as VERY confusing as things were now.
He leaned against the wall and tried to make himself stop fidgeting, which got him looks from the Barbie clones who walked by, flashing him an inviting smile. Bike. Leather jacket. Sunglasses. Cigarette. Too pretty for words. It was what he used to get such creatures in his bed to give him what he needed, but he was too fixated on Warren to do more than just smile back at them with a nod.
Some things were instinctual.
He called her and invited her for coffee. He arrived at Starbucks a little early, parking the bike, then fidgeting outside on the step while he waited for her. He lit up one of his clove cigarettes, moving away from the door to the ashtray a bit further down. People might have given him disapproving looks on his own account, but at least no one coughed pointedly at him.
He was still fidgety, but at least the nicotine helped a bit. And there would be coffee. Which might make him fidget more. But it would be good and she was a calming sort and he might not end up talking about Warren at all, really, even as VERY confusing as things were now.
He leaned against the wall and tried to make himself stop fidgeting, which got him looks from the Barbie clones who walked by, flashing him an inviting smile. Bike. Leather jacket. Sunglasses. Cigarette. Too pretty for words. It was what he used to get such creatures in his bed to give him what he needed, but he was too fixated on Warren to do more than just smile back at them with a nod.
Some things were instinctual.