Hunter Sommer (missherocomplex) wrote in horror_story, @ 2012-11-09 00:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | complete, cycle001, hunter, o'brien |
WHO: Hunter & O'Brien.
WHEN: Close to 6PM.
WHERE: Booth seat in the bar.
WHAT: Steak dinner and drinks, as promised.. well, sort of promised.
WARNING: Language and otherwise TBA!
Despite her appetite being put off briefly by the incident in the pool that morning, Hunter had eaten three square meals already since then. Hanging out in her room, hanging out in the lobby, generally just making a nuisance of herself, had occupied most of her day but she had made sure to stop off in the hotel restaurant for a good portion of the day. Her father's credit card was still at her disposal, and she was trying to get her calorie intake up before the season started anyway. If she could work it off, like she normally did, she could just be turning it into lean muscle already. She was working on a set of killer abs. She was on a kick of proteins and red meat in general, and her breakfast had been shortly after her meeting with O'Brien that morning, consisting of steak and eggs. What else, after their conversation? Steak was on her brain after that point, nagging her.
And it was O'Brien that she was still waiting for as she wandered back into the bar that evening, with steak still on her mind. She was mostly hungry, hankering for that good meal and some fries. She wasn't sure why she was waiting for him. It's not like she was.. getting her hopes up or anything, that was retarded. What were the chances he was going to show up? He had seemed like a cool guy, but he was still a cop.. it was possible he could be more concerned about seeming professional than having fun. That would suck. Maybe she just wanted attention because Mack wouldn't even open her door to her anymore when she knocked, no matter how loud she knocked, which was so rude. Oh well, it was his loss if he decided not to show. Mack's loss for being a bitch. She was starved, either way, and she was gonna eat.
She took a booth in the back corner, chewing her gum loudly as she pawed through a menu and put her feet up under the table, on the seat across from her. She knew what she wanted to eat, but she was still on the fence about what she wanted to drink. Whiskey sounded nice, but then a good old beer went down well. Decisions, decisions.