08-15-2018, 07:06 PM
[size=9pt]The offwhite tiles get sick of him staring at them and suddenly morph into something boring, so he flicks his gaze to the clock. It ticks loudly, the only thing breaking the silence, and, pausing in his thoughts, he's suddenly aware of the suffocating silence. He fucking hates it. He's getting itchy and the urge to grab for the bottle gains on him with every second that passes, until it all becomes too much. He lifts his hand from the counter and then-- Imperia.
Moon stares blankly at her for a moment, as she settles against the wall and asks her question. He slowly lowers his hand. He's been caught red handed and, surely, he should be worrying about that, but instead, he's thinking about how gorgeous she looks. Even at 3 am, with big eyes looking slightly foggy with exhaustion and in those drop dead ugly scrubs, she's really, really beautiful. Moon's usually not one to be so startled by this sort of thing-- he's all grins and crescent eyes if he wants to flirt, smooth as they come, as far as he's concerned. But, now, there's the slightest hint of a pause in him. Its gone as quick as it comes.
"Thinking? Nah. I don't do that." He says, the beginning of a smile gracing his lips. "Might hurt myself." As fitting as the situation is, he's not about to spill all his deepest feelings to Imperia like a scene out of Grey's Anatomy. He's too careful for that. "That's your job. All I gotta' do is change old people diapers and look pretty."
He goes quiet for a moment, and the silence sinks in around them again. But it doesn't feel bad anymore. Now, there's someone else there with him. If he listens close, he's sure he could hear her breathing. But that'd be weird. Instead, he glances back up to the dark haired woman and squints, considering her for a moment. She doesn't look the type to drink. Either that, or she's a secret alcoholic. It could be either. Moon's met the type before; all gentle smiles and graceful steps, but with a liver worse off than his, behind it all. He's curious to see if that's the case, with her. "Hey, Frenchie," he says, voice quiet to suit the atmosphere that weighs heavy on the Hospital, in these hours. He tilts his head, runs his tongue over his teeth and swings his legs like a child that's surely up to no good. "Tell me if I've got this all wrong, but you wouldn't report me to the Higher Ups for nothing, would you? I got the feeling you like me too much to get me sacked."
Moon stares blankly at her for a moment, as she settles against the wall and asks her question. He slowly lowers his hand. He's been caught red handed and, surely, he should be worrying about that, but instead, he's thinking about how gorgeous she looks. Even at 3 am, with big eyes looking slightly foggy with exhaustion and in those drop dead ugly scrubs, she's really, really beautiful. Moon's usually not one to be so startled by this sort of thing-- he's all grins and crescent eyes if he wants to flirt, smooth as they come, as far as he's concerned. But, now, there's the slightest hint of a pause in him. Its gone as quick as it comes.
"Thinking? Nah. I don't do that." He says, the beginning of a smile gracing his lips. "Might hurt myself." As fitting as the situation is, he's not about to spill all his deepest feelings to Imperia like a scene out of Grey's Anatomy. He's too careful for that. "That's your job. All I gotta' do is change old people diapers and look pretty."
He goes quiet for a moment, and the silence sinks in around them again. But it doesn't feel bad anymore. Now, there's someone else there with him. If he listens close, he's sure he could hear her breathing. But that'd be weird. Instead, he glances back up to the dark haired woman and squints, considering her for a moment. She doesn't look the type to drink. Either that, or she's a secret alcoholic. It could be either. Moon's met the type before; all gentle smiles and graceful steps, but with a liver worse off than his, behind it all. He's curious to see if that's the case, with her. "Hey, Frenchie," he says, voice quiet to suit the atmosphere that weighs heavy on the Hospital, in these hours. He tilts his head, runs his tongue over his teeth and swings his legs like a child that's surely up to no good. "Tell me if I've got this all wrong, but you wouldn't report me to the Higher Ups for nothing, would you? I got the feeling you like me too much to get me sacked."
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; height: auto; text-align: center; font-family: ; font-size: 9pt; color: COLOR; letter-spacing: -.5px;"][i][b]and die like a hero going home.[glow=black,2,300]