☤ twenty-seven

[as_damaged]

[Accidental Audio]

[CRASH.

CRASH.

CRASH. CRASH.

splinter splinter crash. There is heavy breathing in the background.

...crash.]




[ooc; action for Chase and mebbe Angela, and um, anyone who happens to live in their apartments/surrounding apts who might notice the breaking and entering. sob. i don't even.]

Comments

[break on through to the other side]

[as_damaged]

You're the one that's turned me down, now. Twice.

[Her fingers drum along the back of his neck once, softly. Only teasingly reproachful, she smiles again.]

But I'll forgive you. Come home with me?

[break on through to the other side]

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

Okay. What?

[He's questioning himself, the agreement having slipped out through what feels like instinct, or habit. Her arms were round him, staking their claim, and there's some kind of rule to this. Some rule from some fake holiday in country he's not even native to, with dubious reasons for cross-pollenating into this place. He was the slowest runner, or she was the quickest in pursuit. Reason wars with responsibility, and compromises through delaying tactics.]

Okay. Just, let me call someone to come check on Eden. And I'll have to tell Peter where I'm going.

[He'll have to tell Peter a few things, when he realises his room mate is headed for the next apartment over. Peter might be blind, but colourful language is an art appreciable by all.]

[break on through to the other side]

[as_damaged]

Call for Eden. Peter's fine. After, we can go.

[Her words carry a tone of unwitting command, though she's completely casual about it, stepping back to free his hands while remaining too close for comfort.]