InsaneJournal

A cigarette, half burned-down, set between his fingers, Orsino stood outside the fish n' chips shop leaning idly against the wall.  One foot rested against the brick work, knee bent, other leg stretched out straight.  As he watched various automobiles coast by, he raised the cigarette to his lips and inhaled, blowing the smoke out of his nose moments later.  Though not a regular smoker, Orsino generally kept a pack on hand for the occassions on which he felt compelled - for instance, when he knew he needed to relax but was having trouble doing so.  Before interviews, before shows, and, apprarently, before having lunch with a friend.

When he'd woken up Tuesday morning on Penny's sofa, he'd rolled off and made his way directly to the chimney in order to floo home posthaste.  He had had trouble remembering exactly what had gone on the night before, but he remembered enough to know that there was a distinct possibility that things between him and Penny might be somewhat awkward for a while.  At least until they could sort things out rationally.  Which was the point of this meeting. 

Penny was always talkative, so he hoped she'd be able to get the ball rolling.  One more long drag from the cigaratte and he threw the remainder down the the sidewalk, grinding it into the pavement with his toe.  His stomach growled, as though reminding him he had better order a big basket of fish n' chips as soon as possible.