Re: log: ren/adrian - ren's place
It felt juvenile to crash somewhere, juvenile and fun. Eat the canapes, smile at security, flout convention. Low stakes trouble. He was struck with a memory, a flash of his nose bursting into blood and swollen bruising, the grit of teeth against carmine. It faded, and he squeezed Ren's hand, reflexively. A different kind of fun. A different time. And he was different now, wasn't he, getting his kicks in safe places, less likely to get his nose broken and his knuckles bruised. Surely he had.
Adrian clambered up out of the case, standing to his very average height. Ren practically towered over him, but he didn't mind. He'd always been a lot of a lot in an average sized package. He stride toward the door with purpose. He didn't know where he was going, but his step said he did. "We'll go where we go," he said. He pressed out the front door of the house in a few moments more, hardly slowing on his way to the bike. He took a deep lungful of fresh air, relishing in it, the realness. "We could hit that abandoned amusement park. Or a charity ball. Just not a bar." He wrinkled his nose as someone else crept ik, took the reins more overtly. "I'm sort of sick of simpering and spinning on barstools, you know. Somewhere a little troubling." He grinned. "It's been so safe."