(Untitled)

[notinthefett]

Warren is waiting excitedly in his room. Alone. Isabel is working. Warren is trying to keep himself busy and failing.

He's made the bed.

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

*There's a knock at the door. It's jittery and without any discernable pop-culture reference, but it sounds like Andrew anyway.*

[notinthefett]

Warren ushers him in hopefully, and plunks own on the bed.

"So, uh, what's going on?"

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew is carrying a manila folder (acquired from the bar) full of legal papers (acquired from Wes), and wearing a tense expression. He scoots the chair a bit closer to the bed, sits down on it, and lays the folder across his knees.*

I got a contract. From Wes. For the deal.

[notinthefett]

Warren reaches for it eagerly.

"What does it say?"