Oct 6, 2015
“What was I doing?----That is a really great question, and I can assure you the answer is not eating left over fries from a dish a patron left behind.”
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“What was I doing?----That is a really great question, and I can assure you the answer is not eating left over fries from a dish a patron left behind.”
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For all the thorough work he’d done under the sheets in the early morning hours, Dean was surprised to be awake as early as he was, woken by some sort of annoying squeaking.
( He also was and wasn’t surprised that he’d been abandoned by last night’s lover. )
When he heard that loud, wince-incuding squeaking again, he turned his head away from the empty space next to him on the bed towards the door to his room.
❝Damn. Could’ve at least closed the door behind her,❞ he said, sighing.
Although naked underneath his sheet, Dean wasn’t particularly in a hurry to close the door to his room, even as the housekeeper wheeled her squeaky cart across his doorway.
“I feel like I should apologize to the cleaning staff beforehand?---But at the same time I almost feel as if that would make them hate me more. Because then wouldn’t acknowledging the fact that I’m gonna to make mess seem like I’m doin’ it on purpose? Pre-meditated mess-making? Sounds like something you could go to jail for or somethin’, don’t it?---’M’am you’ve been charged with pre-meditated mess-makin’ in the third degree’.”
For some reason, Aurelia found herself in the pub during the evening rather than following her usual desire to explore. Nipping at her lower lip out of pure habit, she leaned her chin atop of her propped up, open palm - her dark orbs lingering on the menu and all the selections she could choose from. She was unsure whether or not she’d be questioned on her age when ordering; especially since the legal age had always been sixteen back at home. Or, well, what used to be her home. “Excuse me,” She began, raising a finger in order to gain a server’s attention. “Could I.. ehm..” Trailing off, she pursed her maroon colored lips just slightly. “... A sangria would be fine.” She finished, her heavy French accent enlaced with every syllable. Looking up towards the bartender for a few brief moments, she soon turned her head and looked around as she waited. That was, until she heard someone speak in her direction - her attention swiveling to the source. “Hm?” Clearly, she hadn’t been paying much attention.