Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,
"Veeer!" Trevor's head popped around the side of the house, grinning at her. After she'd pushed him aside, he'd rested forehead first against the side of the house until he'd heard his name and scurried to.
Hurrying over, he slipped past her into the warm house. "Fuckin' freezin' outside," he moaned, rubbing his arms. In retrospect, he decided, it would have been wise to grab a cloak before heading out to wander around on a Scottish winter night. "You don't think it's rude I've been living 'ere a whole three days and 'aven't stopped in at least once?" He asked as he fell onto her couch and curled up with a pillow. "'ey...do you have crisps?"