Who: Gavin Hawthorne & Amanda Turner What: An overdue confrontation. Where: Amanda's apartment in Seattle. When: Wednesday night, April 6th, 2011. Warnings: You've met Gavin, right? He's even worse when he's aggravated. :\
Some days, Gavin couldn't believe how lucky he was. Days like today, really. While Amanda was out working, he had her apartment all to himself. Rather, he had the remote all to himself. Since he'd started crashing here, that had been an absolute rarity. So, when he woke up that afternoon (yes, afternoon – the majority of his sleeping didn't happen at night), there was no doubt about it. He intended to take advantage while he could. All the terrible daytime TV in the world was his for the taking.
By the time the sun set that night, he'd only gotten up from the couch twice – once to pee, and the other to grab a six-pack and some leftover pizza. As he alternated from cackling to shouting at the dumbasses on TV, a semi-permanent smirk never left his face. Yep. He was livin' the good life. For the first time in a long time, everything was easy. It was a nice feeling. And he was getting very good at ignoring the voice in the back of his head that was telling him it wouldn't last.
When Amanda finally came home, Gavin was sprawled on the couch, upending a beer as he downed the last of his third bottle. His face lit up when he saw that bright red hair of hers, and he attempted to sit up, waving vaguely both at her and the pizza in front of him. "Well, heeeey! If it ain't my favorite rockstar. Getchur ass over here, red. I madeja dinner."