@larkalejandro
He had been back in town for about a day now and much to his annoyance, returning hadn’t been as smooth or as nice as he’d have liked it to be, he was drained emotionally from his time in New York and mildly annoyed by the fact that he hadn’t figured out how to talk to Casey since his return last night. He had hurt Xander, he knew it from the cold shoulder he’d received the entire way back, but he didn’t know how to even talk to him. What the other had said, what it had made Cade feel, he couldn’t embrace that, not again. Not now. He had finally started to try and feel secure but between what he’d done to Tamsen, the way he’d treated Casey, the things he had said to Xander, how he’d ghosted on Connor for days now with no explanation. Cade was not just burning bridges, he was burning his whole house down.
All of that had to be tucked away though, he had an appointment, his monthly check-in and his time set aside for a few hours at least with Lark. The young boy he had first met on the street in New York City. He’d been so broken, homeless and in need, when he had tried to sleep with Cade for money, Cade knew he had to help him. He had brought him here, given him a more formal job and just done his best to help him better himself. He was one of Cade’s finds for The Pearl and he always enjoyed their time together. So stowing his emotions, dressed in only his gym shorts, a loose-fitting sleeveless top and his OBEY black flat-brimmed hat, Cade was sitting on the couch of his home. His leg still in a booted cast he was fiddling with a bag of cookies that he had brought home with him from New York.
Tossing it overhead he heard the knock at his door, grabbing his phone it was easy enough to unlock the door and check the camera, it was Lark, so that worked, “Come on in.” He said into the phone, knowing it’d come out of the camera speaker at the door, he glanced from the couch in full visibility of the door with a charming wide smile, nodding to Lark as he entered, “Come here. I am glad you made it on time.” He said patting the couch next to him, his injured leg resting up on the coffee table before him, “I have cookies.”
