07-27-2018, 01:54 PM
It’s dark and they’re still not gone.
He sighs, and ruffles a hand through his copper wind-twisted tangles, walking away from the window. Grieving people and people pretending not to be; not his favourite bunch. He doesn’t join them, although he probably should. But he’s bought this place only recently, so he doesn’t know his neighbour well. Didn’t. Didn’t know him well.
Tuan wants out though. He's standing there whining, and Leilan doesn't disagree with him - he'd hoped to avoid the bunch of people altogether while walking his blue merle Aussie, but apparently they both just have to deal. Picking up Tuan's leash, he notices the sad look in his buddy's eyes when he knows he is not going to run free towards the beach. But the redhaired man can't let his best friend mingle with people of that sorts.
Well, okay fine - his sort. Living the easy and good life had consumed most of his existence, brought to him by his parents' (okay mother's) fame as an editor of who-knows-what-but-it-paid-well. He always feels glad she uses her maiden name still, so that he doesn't immediately get associated with her, as long as the people he meets don't know what she looks like of course. Or used to look like, anyway. All the surgeries' actually had made her more ugly, burn victim or no. But he doesn't linger on it too much. She's a good mother, in her own, slightly distant way, letting him connect with his father more over time. He'd guess with nine siblings and not much of a job (as a freelance journalist, but with a house full of kids and a wife more busy than you'll ever be) - well that sort of naturally happened.
He walks straight towards the shoreline, leaving his shoes for what they are - useless in the sand, instead taking some easy-on sandals with him in hand. His blue chino's have been rolled up high enough for his feet to touch the water, exactly what he loves about this beach-place; his white blouse replaced by a t-shirt in the same colour. It's only by the waterside that he unclips Tuan's leash, but, the blueish dog doesn't run as far away as expected. Instead, he sort of bolts towards the treeline. Thinking the boy's just going to pee, he doesn't follow - but Tuan doesn't return after some time, and when he follows (after procrastinating, he puts on the sandals anyway), he sees why.
Seems his dog has found to girls tumbling over, and is standing only a few feet away from the fallen girl, happily wagging his tail. The one she tripped over seems to be more interested in wine, though.
Oh, great.
He sighs, and ruffles a hand through his copper wind-twisted tangles, walking away from the window. Grieving people and people pretending not to be; not his favourite bunch. He doesn’t join them, although he probably should. But he’s bought this place only recently, so he doesn’t know his neighbour well. Didn’t. Didn’t know him well.
Tuan wants out though. He's standing there whining, and Leilan doesn't disagree with him - he'd hoped to avoid the bunch of people altogether while walking his blue merle Aussie, but apparently they both just have to deal. Picking up Tuan's leash, he notices the sad look in his buddy's eyes when he knows he is not going to run free towards the beach. But the redhaired man can't let his best friend mingle with people of that sorts.
Well, okay fine - his sort. Living the easy and good life had consumed most of his existence, brought to him by his parents' (okay mother's) fame as an editor of who-knows-what-but-it-paid-well. He always feels glad she uses her maiden name still, so that he doesn't immediately get associated with her, as long as the people he meets don't know what she looks like of course. Or used to look like, anyway. All the surgeries' actually had made her more ugly, burn victim or no. But he doesn't linger on it too much. She's a good mother, in her own, slightly distant way, letting him connect with his father more over time. He'd guess with nine siblings and not much of a job (as a freelance journalist, but with a house full of kids and a wife more busy than you'll ever be) - well that sort of naturally happened.
He walks straight towards the shoreline, leaving his shoes for what they are - useless in the sand, instead taking some easy-on sandals with him in hand. His blue chino's have been rolled up high enough for his feet to touch the water, exactly what he loves about this beach-place; his white blouse replaced by a t-shirt in the same colour. It's only by the waterside that he unclips Tuan's leash, but, the blueish dog doesn't run as far away as expected. Instead, he sort of bolts towards the treeline. Thinking the boy's just going to pee, he doesn't follow - but Tuan doesn't return after some time, and when he follows (after procrastinating, he puts on the sandals anyway), he sees why.
Seems his dog has found to girls tumbling over, and is standing only a few feet away from the fallen girl, happily wagging his tail. The one she tripped over seems to be more interested in wine, though.
Oh, great.
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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