Realistic or Modern Whisky River [1X1, Gothy and BeautifulLoser]

[BeautifulLoser]

He chuckled at her comment and nodded his head at her words, “I promise I’m not a creep,” he reassured her, “No spying in the shower so long as you don’t spy on me as I change,” he teased right back as they walked. The air was cold and bit at hit bones as he moved, a reminder of how old he was really getting. He took in the night sky - something he got to appreciate often. He had sworn off driving for the most part and he always tried to appreciate the air above him. However, he never really took a liking to the colder air. It made him sore and stiff and it was a bitch to walk in - especially when it snowed and the ice froze over. He shook these thoughts from his head as they moved towards the apartment complex.

He pushed into the apartment building, it was older and dim on the inside hallways. The elevator was small and rickety - but it was home to him. He had managed to move around the inside and he managed to add some light and warmth into the apartment. He pushed the key into the door that stuck more often than not, but with a jam of his shoulder it opened right up. The living room was joined into the kitchen - a large enough couch and a glass table in front. He was clean for the most part as he didn't have much stuff to occupy his time to make everything cluttered. In front of the coffee table was a larger television. He tossed the keys onto the kitchen island before he shut the door behind her.

"Here it is," he said as he gestured to the small apartment. He moved to the small closet in the hall and pulled blankets and pillows from it before he sat them down on one of the couch cushions, "There you go... a large range of small blankets, large ones, and a mixture of both memory foam and cotton pillows," he explained as he thumbed through the objects he laid out for her. "Bathroom is straight down the hallway with plenty of hot water. The only bad thing being that my soap and shampoos are all going to smell like man," he teased her.

"I can make some breakfast in the morning if you just tell me how you like your eggs and if you prefer crispy or non crispy bacon," he said to her.

 

[Gothy]

Dawn followed him, pausing and drifting less and less with each passing minute, and with each cold prickle of a nights air on her skin. The cold was both refreshing and chilling, bringing her to as much as it left her shivering slightly.

With a thankful, large smile she took the bedding from him and laid it out on the sofa. Only now, in the safety of an apartment she could consider friendly and non predatory, did she realise just how tired she was. And not just from the accumulated few days of travel, bad bedrest and heavy drinking. But the past few months, well, they'd taken a toll on her. Here, with someone she hoped she could consider a friend, she felt that weight not lifting, but subsiding.

A moment's awkward stare later and she had thrown her arms around him in an entirely spur of the moment action. She gave him a quick squeeze and a genuine thank you, before sheepishly remembering where she was and with whom. Then, her eyes dropped to the sofa and she sat down.

Sleep came easily that night, perhaps easier than it had in a long while. But her dreams, well, they were filled with sterile white walls and wails and when she awoke, equally as upset as she was hungover, it was not without some bad taste left in her mouth.

Her first thought was of fear. It took a few moments for her to get her bearings and realise where she was, and only then did she take a breath and sigh. Despite the throbbing dizziness in her head, and the scraping dryness of her throat, she almost felt... Lucky.

A few moments later she had gathered her things and gone to the bathroom, turning on the shower and waiting for it to reach the temperature she preferred- hot as she could take it. She stripped off, suddenly aware of how sticky with a few days accumulated sweat her clothes had been, and stepped under the hot rush of water.

A contented sigh left her throat and Dawn closed her eyes, letting the heat and the steam relax her muscles. A gentle hum, which turned into a murmur, which turned into a soft song, escaped her throat. She couldn't sing, but when had that ever stopped anyone from singing in the shower?

 

[BeautifulLoser]

He smiled at the awkward hug from the woman that was, at one point, a stranger. While she still was, he had taking a liking to an additional body moving around in his apartment, "You sleep well now and take a hour long shower if you want, yeah?" he asked her with a grin. Having a second body was a nice change to his apartment dynamic... even if it was only for a night. It made it well worth it that the woman was nice and seemed to happily accept his offer of the apartment, and he went to bed with peaceful thoughts.

His night wasn't drowned in nightmares of the accident, in fact, he didn't dream at all that night. His sleep was deeper than normal and he didn't toss or turn. He didn't wake up with that familiar coating of sweat all over his body, he didn't wake up to the blankets strewn, his limbs wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, either. Instead, he woke up to a slight humming noise, and then a song, of sorts.

He panicked, only for a moment, thinking that an intruder was in his apartment. He realized then how crazy of a thought it was - as an intruder would probably be trying to rob him or murder him - not use his shower to sing in. While the shower did have great acoustics, he remembered the guest in his house. The woman from the bar - Dawn. While he didn't remember exactly if she agreed to breakfast or not, he stood to his feet, threw the blankets off of his body, and changed into a pair of sweatpants and an old band tee from high school.

He shuffled tired feet out into the kitchen and he began to work over the stove. He settled for making them a large serving of scrambled eggs, some toast, some bacon, and a few pancakes. He normally wasn't a huge breakfast eater, but the familiar rumble in his stomach reminded him he needed to eat more. If she refused him, well, then he'd have breakfast leftovers for days. He wasn't sure if eggs were meant to be refrigerated after being cooked, but right now he wasn't worried about the specifics. He rummaged through near barren shelves and cupboards, happy to come across a container of maple syrup and some butter.

He turned to get the coffee pot brewing his dark roast, his hands rummaging through the cupboards to set out a mug and a package of creamer, in case she wanted in on the coffee, too.

 

[Gothy]

Dawn had been enjoying the warm wash of water, and the suds, for altogether enough time. With some reluctance she turned the shower off, dried herself off and stepped out. After a brief moment, she considered the clothes on the floor and the fact they were, well, dirty. But, with nothing else to wear she pulled on her t-shirt and jeans, though left the hoodie - it smelled too much like stale alcohol, fried grease and sweat. She supposed she'd have to go back to her lonesome hotel room, at the very least so she could change her clothes and wash these ones.

Her thoughts faltered as she opened the door and the smell of food, and more importantly to her, coffee, wafted through. The beginnings of a fried breakfast that didn't smell entirely mired in grease, and actual, brewed coffee.

She took a few moments to tidy up the sofa and fold her unworn clothes, before leaning in to the kitchen. It wasn't much of a lean, considering the small flat.

Unsure of how to announce her presence, or even if it was necessary, she took a moment to first glance the figure in the kitchen up and down. Last night was a little hazy, but equal the limp and the shock of red hair, the trace of a scar on a face, all stood out in her mind.

She hadn't tied her hair back and it framed her face, as she cleared her throat.
"um, morning. Need a hand with anything?" she was almost sheepish, unsure in her sober state just how welcome she was.