Re: Log: Seven/Liam
There was a steady-solemn pounding of his heart in his chest as Seven propped himself up in the arched doorway of Liam's apartment. What the fuck was he doing? This was a bad idea. The bottle was heavy in his pocket, weighing against his left hip and reminding him that this was a very bad fucking idea. Seriously, like - what did he think was going to happen? Liam wasn't a Sleeping fucking Beauty waiting for the magical kiss to wake him the fuck up out of whatever this shit was. And how many times had Seven done exactly this? How often had he found himself leaning against the doorframe to one of Liam's apartments, heart in his throat and sweaty palms shoved into the back pockets of his jeans? Fuck. Between the seconds that passed between the knock and the electric-fuzzed reply that came from the box on the wall, Seven had enough time to seriously consider the potential pros of stepping out into the street in front of an oncoming bus.
And then. Come on up, came the buzz, and his stuttering heartbeat leapt up into his throat. It was an autopilot that he reached up to grasp the doorknob and push his way into the building. This was a bad fucking idea. Especially because some part of his brain couldn't help but admire the tall columns that lined the entrance hallway of Liam's building, and wonder how much he was paying every month. And that made him wonder if Liam was even the one paying his rent, because he'd never been able to afford this kind of shit before. And he'd never let Seven pay for a nicer apartment, so - who the fuck was footing the bill on this one? Seven had a brief flash of a faceless benefactor with a fat wallet before he shook his head, maybe a little harder than necessary. Not doing this. He was not doing this.
The door to the unit was open when he made his way out of the elevator and down the hall. Because that wasn't fucking ominous, huh? Just leave your goddamn door open, Liam. It's Manhattan, what the fuck could go wrong? "Fucking idiot," Seven muttered under his breath, shutting the thing behind him and turning the deadbolt. Okay, yeah. It was a nice apartment. Exactly the kind of thing that Seven would have rented. Shit, it was almost identical to a couple of the apartments that he did rent in the city for business purposes. Cool, slick marble countertops and hardwood floors shone his reflection back at him as he passed, heading for the master bedroom.
"Liam?"
Then he saw the type writer. Something small and cold inside of him dropped down, towards the bottom of his stomach, and he swallowed hard. Took a step towards the desk. Let out a sharp, short breath of air.