Running a brush through his hair, he's gotta laugh. "Yeah, I got a shower." At least this part of town's been rebuilt some. Things work. It almost looks like a normal part of the city. He's still got that obnoxious blue front door. The lights work, it's cool. Get into the heart of the place there's still a fuck of a lot of work to do, but Midgar, it's his city. It's home. It's where he grew up. It's where he caused the most friggin' havoc. He hates it here; he's indifferent to it here; as much as he loves anything, he loves it here.
"Come on." Shirt hanging open, he pulls his hair back and grabs a clean towel. "Right in here."
For a guy who lives by himself, his place is relatively clean. The model airplane his brother's kids gave him for his birthday last year sits on top of the bookshelf; copies of a couple aviation magazines litter the desktop. A box of building blocks and other shit sits next to it on the floor. "For when my nieces and nephews are here," he offers by way of unnecessary explanation. The kitchen cabinets are well stocked with the kind of shit that don't need cookin', and one's even better-stocked with alcohol.
He doesn't cook. Take-out is his second best friend. Eating out is his first.
"There. Regulation shower for you. The hot takes a little while, so don't give up on it." And since he does this kind of thing a lot, he points out where the new toothbrushes are ("help yourself if you want") and goes ahead to use his while the water heats up.
He ain't much of a romantic, but never claimed he was.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2011-02-27 08:44 pm (UTC)"Come on." Shirt hanging open, he pulls his hair back and grabs a clean towel. "Right in here."
For a guy who lives by himself, his place is relatively clean. The model airplane his brother's kids gave him for his birthday last year sits on top of the bookshelf; copies of a couple aviation magazines litter the desktop. A box of building blocks and other shit sits next to it on the floor. "For when my nieces and nephews are here," he offers by way of unnecessary explanation. The kitchen cabinets are well stocked with the kind of shit that don't need cookin', and one's even better-stocked with alcohol.
He doesn't cook. Take-out is his second best friend. Eating out is his first.
"There. Regulation shower for you. The hot takes a little while, so don't give up on it." And since he does this kind of thing a lot, he points out where the new toothbrushes are ("help yourself if you want") and goes ahead to use his while the water heats up.
He ain't much of a romantic, but never claimed he was.