Date: 2008-04-23 06:56 am (UTC)
anythingbutblue: (my twenties are wasting away)
In the meantime, she's rocked slowly onto her side so she can prop her head on her hand and watch him through her sunglasses until the ramp takes him temporarily out of her sight.

He's attractive. She's already seen him turn a head or two, and she's hardly surprised. He can turn her head, after all, and she's a tough audience.

You'd never guess he's dead. And you'd never guess why he's wearing that button-down shirt out here, either. It actually makes her smug to think that she's the only person who gets under it.

So maybe she's selfish. So what?

When he comes back and hands her one of the drinks -- part rainbow, part fruit, and so much alcohol she can smell it without even holding it too near her nose -- she let her lips curve into a smirk and peers over her glasses at him.

"If I didn't know any better, Mister Saxophone, I'd say you were trying to make me easier prey."
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walk_ins

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