Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Morgan stops drumming her nails on the table once she gets her wine. She keeps on baiting Gareth who is starting to look more miserable by the second.
Her attention is captured by a fairly handsome man weaving towards their table. She sighs, tired of men trying to pick her up and commenting on her hair, the bright red mass touching the floor when she sits in a chair. Most nights she would bask in the attention, but between the headache, Gareth's attitude and the plans swirling in her head she wasnt in the mood.
She keeps an eye on the drunk, Why is he coming this direction? Damn humans, cant he pick up one of his own kind? He cant even walk straight, what in the nine hells is that idiot up to? He needs to sit down...