Charlie Pace (
bloodyrockgod) wrote in
milliways_bar2005-08-15 07:52 pm
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Charlie enters through the front door, backpack on his back. He sits at the bar, drops the backpack at his feet, and says quietly, "Guinness please."
For someone who's just had a week's vacation from normal life, he does not look particularly relaxed.
For someone who's just had a week's vacation from normal life, he does not look particularly relaxed.
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She runs her fingers through his hair, looking worried. "You alright, love?"
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"I've been in N'awlins." His imitation of a New Orleans accent is . . . dreadful.
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Her hands, it should be noted, are still in his hair.
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Too much, his face says.
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Faith knows this quite well, really.
Which is probably why she kisses him again, long and slow and sweet, because kisses like that don't leave much room for thought.
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One of her hands turns slightly, cupping the inside of his thigh, and squeezes, gently.
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He's shaking a little.
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Faith pulls back, taking her hands away.
"...but I'm not sorry."
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She smiles at him, slightly, brushing the backs of her knuckles over his cheek.
"Love you."
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Faith loses at subtle.
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"I don't have a bed."
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