TM verse

[poisonwine]

Belle sat in the cafe, looking out the window at the cold outside. She hated the weather in New York. But her job was here, and so she knew that staying was necessary. At least for the moment. Maybe someday she'd pull up and move to California like her original plan had been

Comments

[homo_pacifist]

Yeah, Max, on the other hand, had a definite thing for New York. Whether it was because it was his first real experience of anything outside of Suburbia, Connecticut or the stuffy walls of Princeton University or just because, hell, this place, the whole air it had to it, everybody was free and crazy and did whatever the hell they pleased. You wanted to be a rock star? Go for it. Wanted to be a singer? Get right on that. Wanted to be a crazy person, ranting in the streets about apocalypses? Got a place for you for that too

[poisonwine]

She chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. The concept of subtlety was a foreign one to her, so she'd gone for a halter top and a low rise jean skirt. The fact that she was sitting and leaning forward made the lack of anything under her skirt even more apparent. She put the sign next to her, tucking it under her coat.

"Nice t' meecha, cher." She held out a calloused hand, to shake his. "I'm Belle, obviously. Grab a chair, the waitress should come 'round soon." Her accent had naturally faded within the first year of her stay in New York. But she knew from experience that people tended to find accents attractive, and beside that, she felt too formal when she spoke clearly.