Gary Wilkinson (apieceofhim) wrote in britannia_ny, @ 2010-01-24 20:18:00 |
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Current mood: | sick |
attn: Mike
The run-in with Lancelot didn't do him any good, especially not as bad as he already feels to-day. As soon as he's gotten home and put everything away, he shakily pours himself a drink and curls up on the couch.
He stays there for the rest of the day, until Mike gets home, the glass of icemelt faintly flavoured with bourbon sitting on the coffee table (He needs to get up and start dinner so it's ready by six o'clock, he needs to do some work so he can send it in to the gallery. He needs to focus on something everyday and easy, some tiny saving detail) (but all he actually does is stay in one place, watching his hands shake, and wondering what you do with bread made by the man who killed you).