OPEN | prompt one | RAIN

[wrens]

prompt one | R A I N I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain - and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane.

 

Comments

[faceforhire]

[ Gabe arrives at eleven. It's a dark flick of coat and a howl of wind rounding the gap of the open doorway, a cold that clings and pricks pins and needles over the unsuspecting patrons near the door. The man doesn't look around - he goes right to the table, albeit slouching into his overcoat. His boots are heavy on the hardwood.

He practically dumps himself into the chair across from Sebastian, kicking long legs carelessly into the way of the path between tables. He rolls his head to look the forger right in the eye through the oil-slick of his storm-tousled hair, opens his mouth, and sticks a cigarette in it. From his inner coat pocket, there's a pack of matches, one of which he strikes, still without comment, and nurses around the edge of the cigarette.

Is he going to...? No, he's going to take a drag off said cigarette. And drip all over the floor. ]