Yeah I think I can pencil them in Is there anything I should pick up on the way? [ regardless of if it's needed. there's so much, and they don't have to make any of it themselves, and it's great and hideous, god bless america ]
Along with her toothbrush, Jess packs a fresh shirt and underwear, that are folded on either side of a mostly full bottle of bourbon. Lastly, her phone charger, in case his is occupied or incompatibly outdated. She locks her door and heads out, then has to mill around the dead lobby of the restaurant for eight minutes. She browses the missed calls on her phone until their order has finished cooking. The final leg of the journey is the shortest; there's nothing to delay her along the remaining twelve blocks. The smell of sautéed vegetables and peanut sauce us her intolerably tempting companion the whole way.
Jess knocks curtly on the door, prepared to hand off the plastic bag stacked with boxes of pad thai. Ideally, she would bee line for the kitchen and serve herself right away, but the dogs won't have it. ]
[ frank mutes his hockey game two seconds before the knock comes, over-sharpened senses hearing her from too far away. that and half the dogs were already barking about her impending arrival. whatever. he throws the remote down and goes to the door to receive her, throwing it open and staring at her a moment as if trying to prove to himself she's really there. he's in a hoodie and jeans and seems calm as hell. maybe even eerily so, but today he can't help but feel alright. it just happens that way sometimes. without being asked, he takes the bag from her and holds it up high enough the beasts won't destroy the food as they nose in to greet jessica. max and rocky are especially insistent on getting all of her love while the rest wag their tails and wait their turn. before he loses his nerve and before the dogs swallow her whole, frank leans in for a quick, gentle kiss. almost immediately, he's pulling away again and letting the animals swarm her as he retreats to the kitchen to plate their meals. ]
[ The kiss might make her freeze, if she weren't being battered around the legs by dog bodies. She doesn't have the time or wherewithal to think about how she isn't used such brazen displays of affection. As she leans down to pat at the constantly moving targets that are the dogs' heads, her mind can leap right to assuring her that there was nothing bold about what he did. They aren't out in the open, and even if they were, no one's watching. The first half of that settles fine but she's not around to believing the second. She fakes it okay.
With the dogs around, she can give her paranoia a shallow rest. They're an early warning system for creeps, as they proved when they announced her arrival. Jess gets to each of them, and that still leaves all of them wanting more. Tough. She's starving and they've eaten already. The pack follows her to the kitchen, panting and thwapping one another with their tails. ]
[ he's reaching into one of the taller cabinets for plates when the wolf pack strides in. frank turns to smile at them, starting with their leader, pulling back down his sweater from where it rode up to reveal he doesn't wear shirts under his hoodies because he's a heathen. frank laughs lowly at her facetious suggestion, plating their food and going to grab himself a beer. if he knows her, and he does, then she b'd her own b so he doesn't bother asking if she wants some of his. ]
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At most, that's just basic human decency
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I'll play it case by case, keeping that offer in mind
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I didn't mind it
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but if you want to come over tonight, i know the mutts miss you.
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Is there anything I should pick up on the way? [ regardless of if it's needed. there's so much, and they don't have to make any of it themselves, and it's great and hideous, god bless america ]
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Not that it wouldn't be funny if a peanut killed you.
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I'm pre-on my way
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[ She loves not using military jargon.
Along with her toothbrush, Jess packs a fresh shirt and underwear, that are folded on either side of a mostly full bottle of bourbon. Lastly, her phone charger, in case his is occupied or incompatibly outdated. She locks her door and heads out, then has to mill around the dead lobby of the restaurant for eight minutes. She browses the missed calls on her phone until their order has finished cooking. The final leg of the journey is the shortest; there's nothing to delay her along the remaining twelve blocks. The smell of sautéed vegetables and peanut sauce us her intolerably tempting companion the whole way.
Jess knocks curtly on the door, prepared to hand off the plastic bag stacked with boxes of pad thai. Ideally, she would bee line for the kitchen and serve herself right away, but the dogs won't have it. ]
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With the dogs around, she can give her paranoia a shallow rest. They're an early warning system for creeps, as they proved when they announced her arrival. Jess gets to each of them, and that still leaves all of them wanting more. Tough. She's starving and they've eaten already. The pack follows her to the kitchen, panting and thwapping one another with their tails. ]
I think you need more dogs. [ Sarcasm! /o/ ]
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I might be fostering a Bernese mountain dog.
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