dr. priscilla isley (ripe) wrote in repose, @ 2016-12-20 05:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, destiny sokol, nick morgan |
diner: nick & destiny
Who: Nick & Destiny
What: Chats
Where: Nick's
When: Current-ish
Warnings:
It was sometime in the mid-afternoon when Destiny made her way into the diner. She had a scarf and a sniffle. Dark blue tights beneath a blue jean skirt, a heavy-knit sweater of burgundy with a fluffy-yarn hat to match. She wanted to ask for her job back, but walking in through the diner doors, she was overcome with a feeling beyond that. She was suddenly starving. Starving despite the weird-twisted sensation that her stomach took on when she absorbed the scent of grease and meat.
The nausea was touch and go for the most part, but it seemed to give way to pure hunger considering how little our girl was privileged to imbibe on most days via her own means. The boys at Clary House, as it was so dubbed in her mind, kept everything rather stocked these days, so going hungry wasn't a true concern… but she still wasn't wholly comfortable making use of other people's things.
So yeah, she was hungry on this afternoon. She wanted french toast and oatmeal, carbs stacked with butter. Her mouth watered, and simultaneously, her stomach rolled over on itself. Destiny covered her mouth with the back of her hand when she sank into a seat at the counter. With a deep breath drawn through the nose, her nausea was sated. And she smiled, waving to the cook through the little window with expectation of Nick to come rolling around the bend at any moment.