Marco Quiroz (lostmutt) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-12-23 03:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-10-10, drina, marco |
take your time, consume all of it
Who: Drina and Marco
When: Evening
Where: The Court
The past five days had certainly been busy for Marco. Considering that most of his time these past few months had been spent keeping low-key tabs on Drina, he’d forgotten what it was like to actually have time-sensitive matters that needed his immediate attention. He’d been trying to move into his new apartment since the day after the new moon, which would have been considerably easier if he wasn’t determined to get furniture into the building without running into Drina. All of his knowledge regarding her schedule certainly came into play, but it helped that they were in a position where a simple phone call could determine where she was or when she was coming home. At first, Marco had thought about forgoing decoration and other “necessities” like a couch or a dinner table. He hadn’t possessed those things since he left home to chase Drina’s tail, and a part of him rebelled against purchasing things that signified his “settling down”. Scarlet Oak was great and everything, but it hadn’t been a place of his choosing. Though the trait might have been significantly subdued over the years, at the core of his being was a willful man who didn’t like to be confined by anyone else’s decisions. But since this was the place where Drina had apparently decided to put down stakes, then it made the most sense that he did the same.
His apartment wasn’t the most lavish of places, and that was okay. For someone who had been interchanging nights between the back of his car and the Budget Lodge, actually having a roof over his head (that was under his name) was a considerable step up. The walls were mostly bare outside of a few posters he’d seen at the mall when he’d been shopping for supplies. There weren’t many, maybe four or five, and they consisted of bands he remembered liking (which were surprisingly still around) and movies that had apparently become cult classics. A small couch took up a corner of the living room, leaving a considerable gap of floor between it and the TV he’d gotten at a steal. Literally. Most if not all of the things he had in his apartment had been gained through ulterior means. At one place, he had glamoured a broken toaster he’d found in a dumpster to look like a microwave that he wanted to trade in for a better model. At another, he’d pulled his infamous “glamour a dollar bill to look like a hundred” trick. Considering how many places he had hit, all on the same day within thirty minutes of one another, he had gotten lucky that no one caught on sooner. He had made sure to alter his appearance as much as his glamours would allow, but the whole day, he was reminded of how thankful he was that the general public had not caught on to glamours or how they worked. Hell, even Marco himself didn’t realize that they were because of the fae-bloodline coursing through his veins.
The only errand he’d done today had been to the grocery store to pick up a few supplies for dinner. He didn’t know how to cook much, but there were a handful of dishes that his mother had taught him when he was younger. Once he had unpacked the bags and made sure that the bulk of the moving-mess had been cleaned, he pulled out his cellphone and hit the speed-dial number designated to a certain werewolf. Marco paced back and forth across his kitchen as each ring sounded. Like usual, he didn’t pay attention to the smile that rose to his lips when he heard the familiar sound of Drina’s voice answering the phone. “How do you feel about surprises?” There was a playful tone to his voice. It was interesting how quickly he jumped to such a state where Drina was concerned -- or at least it was interesting to anyone but Marco. He outright ignored it, and would have even denied it, should anyone be in a position to hear him and make comment. The two of them shared an exchange before he finally told her to meet him by her elevator. She had her questions, the agent in her couldn’t resist the opportunity to get more information, but Marco met all her inquiries with a firm, “You’ll see.”
As he rode the elevator down the one floor that it took to reach Drina’s apartment, he started to realize that there was just the slightest bit of anxiety that simmered beneath the surface. The door dinged, and he pushed that emotion down as he pulled up a smile for the woman who stood on the other side, wondering if she had been able to tell what direction he had come from.
“Feeling like a field trip,” he asked, his tone full of the amusement he felt.