[NYC] You can take the boy out of work...
Who: Tab & Aiden
Where: Aiden's Apartment
When: Thursday
Follows: THIS and THIS
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Aiden and Pat had spent the last couple of hours curled up in Aiden's bed together watching some corny romantic comedy before they both fell asleep. Pat hadn't realised that Aiden hadn't completely cleared his schedule for the day, though, so when his apartment buzzer went, Aiden dragged his aching body from bed and went to answer it, making sure he didn't disturb Pat's slumber.
He padded down the hall of his large, trendy apartment, still coughing despite the remedies Pat had consistently plied him with all day. He still felt nauseous and had no appetite, but numerous cups of peppermint tea and orange juice later, at least he wasn't about to keel over from low blood sugar or something. He opened unlocked the door and pulled it open, hoping Tab would forgive his less than professional appearance consisting on black silk pyjama pants, mess sleep hair and not much else. "Bonjour, Madamoiselle Browne," he greeted her hoarsely and then proceeded to have a sneezing fit into a bunch of pink kleenex he pulled from the pocket of the pyjamas.
Where: Aiden's Apartment
When: Thursday
Follows: THIS and THIS
___________________________________________________
Aiden and Pat had spent the last couple of hours curled up in Aiden's bed together watching some corny romantic comedy before they both fell asleep. Pat hadn't realised that Aiden hadn't completely cleared his schedule for the day, though, so when his apartment buzzer went, Aiden dragged his aching body from bed and went to answer it, making sure he didn't disturb Pat's slumber.
He padded down the hall of his large, trendy apartment, still coughing despite the remedies Pat had consistently plied him with all day. He still felt nauseous and had no appetite, but numerous cups of peppermint tea and orange juice later, at least he wasn't about to keel over from low blood sugar or something. He opened unlocked the door and pulled it open, hoping Tab would forgive his less than professional appearance consisting on black silk pyjama pants, mess sleep hair and not much else. "Bonjour, Madamoiselle Browne," he greeted her hoarsely and then proceeded to have a sneezing fit into a bunch of pink kleenex he pulled from the pocket of the pyjamas.