She called him an asshole for his blunt words, but what else was he supposed to say? "You're getting a little chubby there" or "your turning into a cow Krystalle" ? No, Mars found those to be meaner than what he had said to the woman. When he was in mid-thought of what to retaliate with, the woman continued on to tell Mars that she was having a kid "or whatever". Mars' straightened up and then his ears pulled back on his head. He licks his lips nervously for a moment and then he opened his mouth to speak. uhm...what? the man was quite stunned by the news and he took a step back, his curled tail became limp behind him, the tip slightly curled between his legs. Uhm...what? he asked again, still stunned and he cocked his head before he had stepped back again, and the back of his legs touched the rim of one of his chairs, and he instantly fell to the chair. His flop down onto the chair made his tail end up going all the way between his legs and he was sitting on part of his tail.
T-The Father? the man was finally able to ask the woman, but for some reason, he could already tell who the father was. He lifted his ivory colored hand slowly and pointed his index finger back at himself in question. Why he even needed to ask was beyond him. He already knew the goddamn answer. He knew it in core of his being that he had done that. Mars already found his hand going down to his pants to dig in the pockets. He found the cigarette case quickly and he took one out of it and he put it in his mouth and returned the case to his pocket. He didn't light it yet though. He leaned back in his chair, his back touching the back of his chair and he sat there almost miserably. He took the lighter from his pocket and looked at the pot that was still on the stove. It still wasn't hot enough. It hadn't been on the stove long enough. Mars realized that he needed to open one of his windows before he smoked so the smell wouldn't grow stale in the room. Mars looked at the window and then he took the cigarette from his mouth and threw it on the table along with the lighter, not caring that the lighter would fall to the ground while the cigarette just fell more towards the other side of the table. Fuck my life, Bartholomew.
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| mall fonts; text-align:right;">present personality: Mars Russo |