Re: [AyB. Cris y Mari]
Cris didn't need nobody telling him the insidea the apartment was different, huh? He could see that. Lou had come from money and alla that. And he was a guy and he was gay. His style had been, I dunno, modern. Cris didn't know what you called whatever this was. It wasn't Sam's chaotic clutter, all tchotchkes and paint splatter from this project or that, huh? This kinda entropy that built on itself over time 'til the whole place was a mess. Nah, this was organized disarray or something. Lotsa stuff on the walls, but it was all in its place. Even the linea books under the acrylic coffee tables looked deliberately placed, huh?—Too, Lou's place never smelled Cuban. Imagine that, yeah? This did. And the ofrendas, Cris knew those real well too. He didn't need to look at the altar he knew was around to know he and Mari had something else in common.
She started making coffee and Cris didn't know if he should take his shoes off or not. He didn't debate it long or nothing. Instead, he set the bag down on the slate ledgea the counter, then lifted a foot to start untying a shoe. He leaned a lil against the counter to do it and he looked over the scope of his shoulder at Mari as she worked. Soon, the scenta coffee joined the fray, and now it was real Cuban up in here. "Uncomfortable encounters, huh?" He repeated with a threada amusement in his tone. He gave her another throwaway smile when she told talked 'bout the girls, but he let her dark gaze catch his. She wasn't wrong, huh? Cris, he wasn't scareda uncomfortable encounters. He didn't bother hiding the fact that he glanced down that the way she rooted her palms on the counter, then all the way back up.
Elisa hadn't had no real consistency, even from the beginning. She could be shy or she could be direct or she could bat her eyelashes, though she didn't do that real often. Cris wasn't really that kinda guy, huh? Nena over here didn't know that, but he did. Now, he didn't mind beatin' around the bush when it suited him, but, yeah, nah, he liked people who didn't bullshit him.—Pero, right, her question. Cris finished getting both shoes off and stood, hip still anchoring him to the counter. He crossed his arms and cocked his head a lil. "You wanna ask me 'bout tu hermana." He shrugged a shoulder. He smiled. "I dunno what. Esperaba que me dijeras. But, you want me to guess, I can guess."