¡M! - so we livin' life like a video.

Barrett · 06-24-2011, 12:52 AM

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Barry inhaled sharply at her unexpected touch, his gaze following the sweep of her other hand as it came to rest on her hip, a motion which drew a lot of attention to her waist and other curves. This was no motherly pat on the shoulder! Was she really into him, or was she just fucking with him because he was high? The mottled boy had been doing half decent, he thought—speaking coherently, processing whatever was going on, not getting needlessly distracted—but now he found his brain sort of short circuiting, perhaps due to a diversion of blood flow to other areas.

That dolce was encouraging. He did not speak Italian, but he did know a bit of Spanish. The two languages could be nearly indistinguishable when spoken. Dulce meant “sweet” in Español, so while he did not comprehend exactly she said, he understood it to be a playful term of endearment. Play it cool, man. Without another moment's hesitation, he raised his dark hand to take hers and gently lead them in the direction of his humble abode. (Humble? Perhaps refugee-style was more accurate.) With a bit of graceful flourish, he spun her in a quick dance that carried her naturally to one of the cushioned seats he had set up.

After snatching up his bag, the male sat in the chair opposite hers and began to rummage through its jumbled contents. His ears had fallen back while he looked, but soon they pressed forward—he'd found what he was looking for. “Here we are,” he said, deftly popping a pre-rolled joint in his mouth and lighting it in one smooth motion. He drug on it just long enough to make sure it wouldn't extinguish, then passed it easily to his sky-eyed companion. Their seats were very close; usually he stretched out across them both while he was alone. Somehow, he didn't think she'd mind.

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