Date: 2009-04-12 11:05 pm (UTC)
sleazeoverstyle: (like I give a fuck)
Okay, so he can relax and enjoy it for a while, but not forever. Eventually he gets bored -- this is how come beach vacations ain't his style -- and sits up, fumbles through his jacket pockets, checks his cell for messages. Rude called. Figures. The boss called. Figures. This girl he met in a bar a few weeks ago texted him. Six times. Figures. (Delete - delete - delete - delete - delete - delete.) Nope, nothin' he needs to set aside the sand and sea and sun for.

'Bout the only time he ever hangs out in one place like this, though, is when he's asleep in bed and when he's actually aware of that, he gets up and does somethin' else anyhow, so he knows he's got like maybe ten more minutes of this in him before it drives him straight up a friggin' wall, which... he could do, but better if they haul ass outta Costa del Sol before that happens.

"So. Charlie. I'm thinkin', 'cause of the time of day and 'cause we have a decent trip ahead of us, we ought to probably get goin'." He doesn't make the offer that they stay here overnight; that wasn't part of the plan and it'd be a friggin' headache if he doesn't get Shin-Ra Three back on time, just as far as paperwork goes, but he can't say he hasn't had the thought a couple times as he's glanced over and watched her, all pretty and content.

One of these days, he keeps tellin' himself like it actually might happen. He's never been a patient person.

"So what do you say? Anything else you wanted to do here before we head on back?"
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