Something a little tomato-like
Who: Rita Mordio kyudousha and Spain love_lostomates
Where: Spain's place.
Style: Starts off in first, but however you like, love. <3
Status: Closed
[It didn't take long to track down Spain's location. It did take quite a bit of standing and hemming and hawing on the doorstep for her to pluck up the courage to knock. Thus, it took her approximately eighteen point seven five more minutes than she normally would've took if, say, it had been Break's doorstep she had been standing upon (she would've just kicked down the door. It's Break's door. He can afford a new one).
The point being, she knocks. Not hesitantly, as Rita Mordio can't afford to show a hesitant front, but it's noticeably quieter than usual -- her reasoning being that Spain's still a recovering man, and loud noises can't be helpful towards the recovery process. The truth being that she just doesn't have the energy to expend that same sort of full-hardy confidence.
The package in her hand is unwrapped and mostly see-through. Tomato seed packets shoved hap hazardously into the small package could be seen clearly from the outset -- she hasn't come to terms with the usual rituals of Christmas and whatnot, and now that the holiday season's long past, she doesn't quite see a reason for the garish decor that they seemed so oddly fond of.
Doesn't understand that it's a common courtesy.
And so she holds the package in hand and shuffles her feet on his doorsteps, and waits, and despite her gritted teeth, a staunch refusal to run. She didn't raise herself to be a quitter.
Not now. Not ever.]
Where: Spain's place.
Style: Starts off in first, but however you like, love. <3
Status: Closed
[It didn't take long to track down Spain's location. It did take quite a bit of standing and hemming and hawing on the doorstep for her to pluck up the courage to knock. Thus, it took her approximately eighteen point seven five more minutes than she normally would've took if, say, it had been Break's doorstep she had been standing upon (she would've just kicked down the door. It's Break's door. He can afford a new one).
The point being, she knocks. Not hesitantly, as Rita Mordio can't afford to show a hesitant front, but it's noticeably quieter than usual -- her reasoning being that Spain's still a recovering man, and loud noises can't be helpful towards the recovery process. The truth being that she just doesn't have the energy to expend that same sort of full-hardy confidence.
The package in her hand is unwrapped and mostly see-through. Tomato seed packets shoved hap hazardously into the small package could be seen clearly from the outset -- she hasn't come to terms with the usual rituals of Christmas and whatnot, and now that the holiday season's long past, she doesn't quite see a reason for the garish decor that they seemed so oddly fond of.
Doesn't understand that it's a common courtesy.
And so she holds the package in hand and shuffles her feet on his doorsteps, and waits, and despite her gritted teeth, a staunch refusal to run. She didn't raise herself to be a quitter.
Not now. Not ever.]