Saint Michael the Archangel | Dt. Michael Angel (![]() ![]() @ 2016-07-26 17:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | gabriel, michael |
WHO: Michael and Gabriel
WHAT: BROS
WHEN: Sunday evening
WHERE: Cafe
WARNINGS: I doubt it
Michael was beginning to get used to life with Irina, the human who had taken up residence with him after he saved her from her captor, but that didn't mean he didn't still worry constantly every time he was at work. Some days were busy and his mind was kept from wandering to whether Irina was alright or not, but today had been entirely uneventful. And while normally he would be pretty thrilled with the city's lack of homicidal behaviour and a chance to actually dig into the mountain of paperwork he had on his desk, he couldn't concentrate at all.
Eventually his partner, consumed with annoyance at the normally eerily still Michael tapping his pens and twisting in his squeaky chair, insisted Michael 'just get out and have dinner already'. And while Michael normally ate his meals in the staff room, he decided to throw his beleaguered partner a bone and vacate the premises, as least for an hour or so.
Anyway, if he was in a cafe on his own, no one would question the dozens of texts he would likely send Irina, just to check on her.
He made his way to a nearby cafe, cellphone already in hand as he walked. The cafe he chose wasn't especially nice, but that also meant it wasn't especially crowded either. When it came to sugary coffee, Michael wasn't all that particular anyway (cake was, of course, a different matter entirely). So he sat in the corner, gigantic mocha in front of him, staring at his screen. He heard someone from a nearby table chuckle and mention something about 'Poking mons', but since Michael didn't know what that was, he ignored it entirely.