Who: Liam and Trouble Where: Trouble's place When: New Year's Eve, night around midnight. What: Celebration! Warnings: Likely none? Status: Ongoing | Closed
Approaching Trouble's house, Liam was far more nervous than he'd ever been before--how would he be received? Had she told anyone about them yet? Was this going to be the night he was watched like a hawk around her? It was nerve wracking, to say the least, and he was shocked that he had enough courage to make it up to the door when he knocked, after letting out a deep breath, and waiting for her to answer.
He hoped it would be her that answered, after all. Knocking again, he stepped back and waited. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, then in his jacket, then crossed his arms, then decided that was rude, and so stuffed them back into the pocket of his jacket again. God he was about to be hated pretty badly wasn't he? He just sensed it.
Rocking on his feet, Liam was dressed in his torn brown leather jacket, worn over button up green shirt which was always worn open, revealing a final lair of a white undershirt beneath. Reaching up he brushed at his hair, pulling it out of his eyes, before tilting his head and letting out another breath. He wore a leather strap that held his guitar too, something he seemed to carry with him a lot, just so he could play it if something came to mind.