OOC: → rawr
Word Count → 451
He didn't remember anything from the night before. He hadn't remembered encountering his painted friend, nor inviting the male back to his house to see his children, and his 'mate' of sorts. He didn't remember drinking with Ouija, nor having dinner with the family plus the guest, nor reading the children to bed, not even getting in a little spat with Krystalle that would have him sleeping 'alone' in his bed even though he technically was not alone. He moaned from under the warmth of the moose pelt that normally was not there. He didn't have blankets on his bed because most of his fabric went to clothing for his children, or himself and Krystalle. He didn't know what was on top of him, nor what was next to him, and for awhile he thought that it was Krystalle until he felt things that he shouldn't have, especially noticing that Krystalle was apparently taller than he was now. What? he groaned as he touched the pelt of the massive colored man. His icy eyes wee drowsy so they did not open right away, not until his mind registered that there was a penis pressing up against him.
He suddenly jumped up and out of the bed, falling onto the wooden floor with a loud thump. the fuck?! the fuck? he growled, his hand going to his head and he moved his hair out of his eyes and he looked around and then back at the bed. who the fuck, what the fuck?! he kept on asking, completely confused about what was happening. Just then, he heard rushing foot steps coming from the hallway. His icy eyes looked over at the door, soon to be opened by Krystalle. What's going on Mars? I heard a thump she asked him,apparently in a better mood than she was last night. I don't know, why don't you tell me? he responded before he looked back at the being under the moose pelt and he saw a painted foot. Ouija? What are you doing in my bed man? he asked, having no recollection of the night before and how Bartholomew invited Ouija to stay the night and to sleep with him in his bed.
Krystalle stood there with a hand on her hip. Don't get mad a'em Mars, He was invited by Bart. Krystalle put her two sense in, letting Mars know that it wasn't the painted male's fault that the male was in his bed, but that it was Bart's fault. If he needed to blame anyone, he needed to blame himself, or Bart at least. Does Ouija even know 'bout Bart, Mars? Krystalle asked Mars whom shook his head. I....I don't know.. Mars spoke, sighing lightly.
Image courtesy of Dan Holder; table by Haley.
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