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jageskroJag finished his pint and took off, rather than have another. Part of him wanted to drink more, but a greater part of him just wanted to ask questions of someone who wasn't a complete pillock. That someone, of course, was Emma. He lit another cigarette as soon as he was outside, not bothering with his empty lighter trick in the mood he was in. Let someone notice. They'd just think they hadn't seen right.
It was a good question whether he smelled more of fire or of nicotine by the time he reached their squat, but a much stronger smell yet greeted him as he walked in, the smell of butter, garlic and something else. That answered one question, then: Emma was in. He stopped by his room long enough to drop his gear and jacket, leaving him in his old jeans and a worn secondhand t-shirt as he walked over to the kitchen.
He watched her for a couple of seconds, so absorbed as she was in what she was doing that she hadn't seemed to notice him. Like hell he ever wanted someone like John around her. There were so many levels of wrong to the man, and so many levels of right to her.
"Hey," he greeted her, pushing off the doorframe to walk to her side, hands in his pockets. "So I met another one of us today."
It was a good question whether he smelled more of fire or of nicotine by the time he reached their squat, but a much stronger smell yet greeted him as he walked in, the smell of butter, garlic and something else. That answered one question, then: Emma was in. He stopped by his room long enough to drop his gear and jacket, leaving him in his old jeans and a worn secondhand t-shirt as he walked over to the kitchen.
He watched her for a couple of seconds, so absorbed as she was in what she was doing that she hadn't seemed to notice him. Like hell he ever wanted someone like John around her. There were so many levels of wrong to the man, and so many levels of right to her.
"Hey," he greeted her, pushing off the doorframe to walk to her side, hands in his pockets. "So I met another one of us today."
