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Mark Cohen is addicted to unhealthy relationships (mydocumentary) wrote in wariscoming,

Mark smirked, his expression playful as he shook his head. "Well, no, I can honestly say so far you haven't. Of course, I've known you all of about two weeks at best and I've met you in person exactly once." Which wasn't the end of the world. And so far, she'd been surprisingly honest with him. Faith didn't hold punches (and he had the feeling that could be taken literally as well as figuratively) and he respected that about her. In fact, it was nice. Similar to Maureen but hopefully without all the crazy drama. One of her was more than enough, really.

He jogged a couple of steps to catch up to her, then reached past her to pull the door open. The smile he gave her was smug, seeing as Faith didn't exactly seem like the sort to allow men to hold doors for her often. But hey, he was a gentleman, most of the time anyway, and she'd have to learn to deal with it. That and hey, someone had to go in first right?

"Smells like home," he admitted, breathing in appreciatively. The familiar fragrance of dough, garlic, and tomato sauce hit him like the A train and he sighed a little, before shooting a smile down. "Well, not the sewer smells of home. Or the subway stations. That's always a delicious treat at the end of the day."