who ? Arran Higgs and Stacey Rivers. when ? Thursday 23 March, afternoon. where ? Pinky's Ink what ? Arran's looking for distractions. warnings/rating ? Langauge? status ? Complete.
Arran's mood had somewhat improved since Monday. He was no longer fighting the urge to get blind drunk, and glitterbombing Thomas Wallpurge's house really had helped Arran feel less hopeless, even if the result had been to piss Terence off once again. He was still annoyed, though, still pissed that Gemma had been forced to miss a match and that his own team would be starting with three reserve players on Saturday. So rather than sit at home and feel shit, he'd taken Terence's advice and gone for a run. His planned route, the one he usually ran in the mornings, took him through Horizont and Whimsick Alleys then down Knockturn to go home. The first part went fine, but Knockturn Alley in the middle of the shopping day was a mess. Arran tried to make his way down it until he could feel the urge to swear at people rising. He stopped, turning back to retrace his steps.
The interruption meant he'd lost momentum, though, and focus. So when he passed Pinky's Ink for the second time he slowed to a stop. Peering through the window he could see Stacey sitting at the front desk. And, crucially, he couldn't see any customers. He pushed the door open and made his way towards his friend. "It's your lucky day," he informed her. "You get to be my distraction from the clusterfuck that is the doping scandal. What shall we do? Hangman? Vulgar scrabble?"