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[FT: Steve M]
[FT: Atticus/Steve]
[Early morning. Early for him, anyway. 7 am? Ring. If/when Steve answered, he would be greeted by a mussed looking Atticus. Sitting on the beach, he was holding a stoneware coffee mug that was steaming, and Steve's recommended music was playing from somewhere offscreen. He was close enough to the water that the sound of it lapping on the island sand could be heard, and there's the crackle of a nearby fire too. It was a cool morning, but the fire made a short-sleeved shirt comfortable, and the backpack straps that were visible on his shoulders were sagging, the bag having been emptied of its contents earlier.]
[Early morning. Early for him, anyway. 7 am? Ring. If/when Steve answered, he would be greeted by a mussed looking Atticus. Sitting on the beach, he was holding a stoneware coffee mug that was steaming, and Steve's recommended music was playing from somewhere offscreen. He was close enough to the water that the sound of it lapping on the island sand could be heard, and there's the crackle of a nearby fire too. It was a cool morning, but the fire made a short-sleeved shirt comfortable, and the backpack straps that were visible on his shoulders were sagging, the bag having been emptied of its contents earlier.]
