[ It's half past three in the morning, which means he's been asleep for about an hour, having stayed up drinking and watching quiz shows on the telly. Still, there's the sound of movement behind the door (he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before shuffling through the apartment, and, at length: ]
Fuckin' Christ.
[ Then, the jangling of a chain and the click of the lock, and the door swings open. Whatever sleep had hung to his frame is gone in an instant, replaced by a disoriented sort of panic. He's no stranger to the sight of blood, but even by her standards, this doesn't look good. Almost immediately, he steps aside to allow her in. ]
no subject
Fuckin' Christ.
[ Then, the jangling of a chain and the click of the lock, and the door swings open. Whatever sleep had hung to his frame is gone in an instant, replaced by a disoriented sort of panic. He's no stranger to the sight of blood, but even by her standards, this doesn't look good. Almost immediately, he steps aside to allow her in. ]
What the fuck happened t' you?