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Snippet #2716030

located in Waterford College, a part of All These Things That I've Done, one of the many universes on RPG.

Waterford College

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tory Han Character Portrait: Adam Cocteau
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A couple hours drags on into the rest of the day, and it's dark outside, way past dinnertime when the store finally closes and Adam's allowed to leave, the owner apologising to him the entire time about keeping him back. Adam doesn't mind all that much, really, because the pay is good and his colleagues are friendly people. But still, the main reason for his being called back was his colleagues' absence, and despite the shop's relatively small size, he was basically kept on his feet all day shelving books and hunting for requests from customers.

"Sorry again, Adam," his boss says. He waves her concerns off, pasting an amiable sort of smile on his face. He knows the store is her baby, and she works hard to do what she's always dreamed of doing, so he doesn't quite resent her for her attachment to the bookshop. While waiting for her to lock up, he lights up a cigarette, hanging around outside the darkened shopfront.

"That's alright, Kerry. I'll be in next week at the same time, then, unless you still need me in."

"Oh, I don't think I will! At least, I hope not," she calls after him as he puts out his cigarette and starts down the sidewalk, hands tucked into his pockets. The evening is uncharacteristically cold, even for this time of year, and Adam briefly regrets not bringing a jacket with him when he left. So much for cool exits.

The walk back to Waterford is slow, and absolute hell on his aching and swollen feet. His stomach growling, Adam surveys the shops he passes on the way back, trying to decide what he wants to for dinner - if eating at nine in the evening can be considered dinner. Eventually he takes the easy way out and drops in on McDonald's, bringing a greasy paper bag full of fast food back to the dorm so he can eat in peace.

It takes some fumbling, but he eventually manages to wrench open the door to his room, collapsing almost instantly into his chair, still clutching his bag of food, aware that he smells faintly of smoke. He hasn't bothered to close the door behind him, and light from the hallway streams in. He waves a hand in front of his face, trying to dissipate the smell of smoke. Tory might not like that too much, but he hasn't looked around to see if his roommate is in yet.