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It's Brittany, Bitch | Ερις (eristic) wrote in paxletalelogs,

She'd been leaning against the back of the car when it stopped on the fourth floor - Jesus, seriously?. Dressed in jeans, her bike boots, a T and TJ's her leather jacket, black bike helmet with the visor snapped open hanging from her right hand like an oddly-shaped bowling ball and a scuffed messenger bag slung from one shoulder, she'd been looking forward to escaping from the apartment complex without notice.

After yesterday's interesting conversation with the local law enforcement that just happened to room a few apartments away from her, she wasn't feeling particularly sociable. Right now she had a day off from the auto shop she worked at and she wanted to use it riding her bike - the shot of adrenaline that came from the high speeds, wind whipping at her hair if she chose to leave it hanging out from her helmet, the quick curves and turns that pressed her close to the pavement, and of course the warm vibrations between her legs. Yeah, a girl could get off on that.

But no. This...kid, though he didn't look too much younger than her (but after everything she'd been through, she felt years older than everyone), had to use the elevator. She glanced at him - he didn't seem to notice her, but then again, it was probably difficult to see through all that hair; that and it seemed like he had headphones in. If he kept to himself, that was a-okay by her. She shifted in her position, raising her eyes to watch the numbers blink by as though she could will them to go faster.