Laziness. The room was full of it, plus smoke from Beck's last joint. In the usually organized room, clothes and two pairs of shoes (one a pair of pumps and the other dress shoes) had been purposely flung across the room as if it were some sort of a battlefield. Everything was a tangled mess, including the two naked figures on the bed, covered with sheets. A brunette positioned herself on Beck's arm and simply snuggled in, half-awake with the evening coming closer and closer. She planted a kiss on Beck's jawline, rousing him from his slumber, and with sleepy eyes looked at his female partner with a small, lustful smirk.
"Honestly, Emmy. You keep getting better each time we go," he said amusedly, pulling her close. "And that is quality time, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, shut up," she said, shoving him gently as he held her close. "Besides, I've got no other way of venting out boredom. You know you've got me."
"Yes I do, ma chère. Aaand... I would've asked to go for another round, but I have a party to go to."
"I just hate you for ruining my mood," she said, pouting as she pulled away and got up, her form not too visible in the dimness of the room.
"Chère, please. It's a fling," he said, getting up to follow her.
"But I really, really like you."
"Hey, no frowns, doll. You know I hate it when you do," he said, wrapping his arm around her bare side before going off to have a shower.
It was strange this time around. Having a party at Gabrielle Samuels's place? This was too unlike Heinrick, but whatever. A party was a party, regardless of what anyone thought. Plus, it was huge. What more could he ever want? An opportunity to snag as many ladies? Have a few pills or a whole round of drinks? That was just something he couldn't miss out on at all. No, sir. As he got off from the shower stall, a towel wrapped around his waist, he found Emmy putting on her clothes preparing to leave. He quickly flipped the switch on and saw her, well, upset. Didn't he tell her not to frown or be sad?
"Oh, come now, Emmy. We'll have our time soon enough," he said, gently pecking her cheek as he went off to the bathroom to dry his hair and the rest of him. He marched off in his birthday suit to pull out several articles of clothing, and put them on. It was an ordinary task, but it was strange. This time around, he wouldn't look like a wimp. Instead, he was going to have to show off what he had. A dark grey v-neck (and not the type that plunged all the way) showed his own toning well, including his arms, and a favorite pair of jeans were quickly slipped on and he pocketed a few of his needs in the pockets of his pants and, following his casual friend, he went out of the house, never forgetting to shut off all appliances and lights and locking the doors. Cautious lad, he was.
Occasionally, Beck's Miata carried his usual cocktail of abused substances: weed, codeine (in cough syrup), acid and MDMA all hidden under his driver's seat. An available alternative to him at this point while he was driving was a simple menthol cigarette he'd gotten from the convenience store he'd dropped Emmy off at. He knew better than to get rash with the cops tonight. An easy drive through street after street was quickly over once he reached the place. Several other people were here already, and with a smile, he pocketed his pills, acid and weed in his pockets before he made it inside, slinging his jacket over his right shoulder.
"Honestly, Emmy. You keep getting better each time we go," he said amusedly, pulling her close. "And that is quality time, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, shut up," she said, shoving him gently as he held her close. "Besides, I've got no other way of venting out boredom. You know you've got me."
"Yes I do, ma chère. Aaand... I would've asked to go for another round, but I have a party to go to."
"I just hate you for ruining my mood," she said, pouting as she pulled away and got up, her form not too visible in the dimness of the room.
"Chère, please. It's a fling," he said, getting up to follow her.
"But I really, really like you."
"Hey, no frowns, doll. You know I hate it when you do," he said, wrapping his arm around her bare side before going off to have a shower.
It was strange this time around. Having a party at Gabrielle Samuels's place? This was too unlike Heinrick, but whatever. A party was a party, regardless of what anyone thought. Plus, it was huge. What more could he ever want? An opportunity to snag as many ladies? Have a few pills or a whole round of drinks? That was just something he couldn't miss out on at all. No, sir. As he got off from the shower stall, a towel wrapped around his waist, he found Emmy putting on her clothes preparing to leave. He quickly flipped the switch on and saw her, well, upset. Didn't he tell her not to frown or be sad?
"Oh, come now, Emmy. We'll have our time soon enough," he said, gently pecking her cheek as he went off to the bathroom to dry his hair and the rest of him. He marched off in his birthday suit to pull out several articles of clothing, and put them on. It was an ordinary task, but it was strange. This time around, he wouldn't look like a wimp. Instead, he was going to have to show off what he had. A dark grey v-neck (and not the type that plunged all the way) showed his own toning well, including his arms, and a favorite pair of jeans were quickly slipped on and he pocketed a few of his needs in the pockets of his pants and, following his casual friend, he went out of the house, never forgetting to shut off all appliances and lights and locking the doors. Cautious lad, he was.
Occasionally, Beck's Miata carried his usual cocktail of abused substances: weed, codeine (in cough syrup), acid and MDMA all hidden under his driver's seat. An available alternative to him at this point while he was driving was a simple menthol cigarette he'd gotten from the convenience store he'd dropped Emmy off at. He knew better than to get rash with the cops tonight. An easy drive through street after street was quickly over once he reached the place. Several other people were here already, and with a smile, he pocketed his pills, acid and weed in his pockets before he made it inside, slinging his jacket over his right shoulder.