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Oct. 20th, 2018 at 5:11 PM
Satisfied with his work (and his successfully argued, foolproof lead) Christian reached over for a brown bottle and twisted the cap off, handing it over to Luke. "Figured you would need the help opening it, you know, with your lack of muscles and all. Christian's teasing was all in love and admiration, of course, he dished it out and was even more pleased when he got it in return. Once upon a time Christian Cord had been reckless, a user who lied and did whatever he had to do to get another fix. In his darkest days of living in some crack-house putting together a stupid plan to get his hands on more drugs, or in his darkest moments of withdrawal with his heart feeling like it was going to beat right out of his chest and all of his muscles aching and his blood feeling like acid in his veins, Christian had never thought he'd make it here. Back at Xavier's, clean, healthy, surrounded by some of the best people he knew and who he was lucky enough to call friends.
Christian pulled the rack away and, cue in hand, lined up a shot. "Now don't you be all intimidated by how great I am, okay? I'll go easy on you." One eye closed, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, Christian took aim at the white ball. His shot sent all of the balls out of their neatly arranged triangle and all over the green felt with no real good follow up opportunity for anyone. "Meant to do that," he huffed, laughing. "Gotta make it interesting for you, after all." Sure, something like that.
Ask younger Christian what he would have thought his ideal Saturday night would look like and it definitely wouldn't be this: easy banter shared between friends around a pool table at school. Well, younger Christian was an idiot. "Alright, let's see that Luke Bridgewater magic, huh? What you got?"
[Luke!]