Laurent Rousseau (itsjustadream) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-10-10 02:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-07-29 |
You're late - what's wrong today?
Who: Laurent and Odette
Where: Cherryblossom Place
When: Evening
Apologies were something that Laurent had become very good at over the years. Mostly because he had a terrible habit of forgetting about things. Once upon a time he had been able to blame it on his inability to fully distinguish between the lines of what was real and what was not, but nowadays that did not work as well. Sure he journeyed into the world of dreams probably more than he should, definitely more than he needed to, but he had a firm grasp on reality. For the most part. But if there was one thing that could skewer his perception and leave him reeling without a thought for what it might affect then it was Rae. It was completely her fault that he had missed his evening with Odette. True, he could have called earlier and apologized so that she did not wait up or worry or get irritated with him, but Laurent truly forgot things like that when Rae was involved. It was almost like his mind reverted to viewing the world as it had been when he was still alive. The only way to apologize to someone was face-to-face and it had been a few days before he had found the time to do it. Or made the time really, because he was almost certain that he was actually supposed to be working at Heme that night. Or paying attention to some debate that was carrying on between a vampire politician and some human.
Instead he smoothed out his shirt - an old-fashioned thing that reminded him of when he was alive, dark blue (almost black) silk with gold thread at the cuffs - and tried to think of what would be the best way to greet Odette when she opened the door. Providing that she was not upset enough to not answer the door. Laurent knew women like that, yes, but he also knew that a wonderful way to get on their good side was with winning smiles, sincere apologies... and gifts. Gifts had never hurt anyone and the bottle of blood, Odette's type exactly, along with an antique brooch he had picked up several decades ago and never actually done anything with past leaving it in the box to gather dust should give him a little bit of a boost. If not then he had never had a bottle thrown at his head so that would at least be a new experience to share with someone at a later date. Reaching up one last time to smooth down any wayward pieces of hair that might have been trying to make him look silly, Laurent followed the familiar scent to what he believed to be Odette's apartment. She had given him the number but he had, as always, forgotten it.
At least he was consistent?