#p:df

© deep focus | 190215 ICN

Isaac was almost sure that go anywhere other than the apartments after the fight he had been in was the right choice. His nose was still bleeding on and off, and his lip was slightly busted, leaving blood staining his chin. When Isaac caught his reflection, he thought he looked oddly vampire like with the dark red circles swelling under his eyes and the blood all over his face. His shoulder was still pretty bruised from where he had hit the wall with most of his weight, and it was a little sore to move, but he could move it. Nothing seemed broken, but he also needed to clean up. As he walked into the building, he noticed a familiar head of blonde hair, and he grimaced. “Paging doctor Sutton.” Isaac spoke, slightly strained. The burn returned in his neck where he had been slightly cut, and Isaac rubbed his hand over the spot gently. It wasn’t big or deep, but it stung like a papercut. @suttonfitzgerald

He would never consider himself a very outgoing person. He's content with spending his days in the police stations, working through paper works and patrolling, serving whoever came to the station with problems and complaints. He's happy with walking to the grocery every weekend and to spend his free time in the park reading books and enjoying the nature. He feels good in his lonesome. It's peaceful. A hermit – though alone – won't feel hurt by it because he's never taste how the vivid colors of the city was. But every once in a while, Yifan did come out. Preferably to Lethe, to enjoy the live jazz music there and a nice bottle of beer. But others, he spent at the Barley Mow. The drinks there were nice and cheap. Plus the bartenders were a friendly bunch and easy to talk to. He liked watching the people going there to. Loosing themselves on the dance floor and having a blast with their friends. Sometimes he took part in it with his own group of friends. But most of the times he's content just sitting in the bar, sipping on his drink and talking to the bartenders. But today, he seemed rather preoccupied with a woman – seemingly having the time of her life, owing the dance floor like she was born there. He moved in a certain way that made everyone look at her. And it was beautiful, almost a piece of art in itself. He couldn't help but smiled a bit as he watched her, leaning on the bar behind him as he did so.