[identity profile] matchstickrule.livejournal.com
[With Matt gone, the room was much quieter than it had been, not just for lack of noise but for lack of movement and energy and heat, even with Mello prowling restlessly around.]

[He wasn't troubled by feeling restless for once, however. And it did give him the opportunity to poke through Matt's things, not that he cared, but out of curiosity he flipped through the magazines in Matt's drawer (boring) and inspected the half completed replacement laptop (also boring) and smoked a cigarette or two in the meantime.]

[And he could have gone back to his own room, really, but why bother? It was just as comfortable here, and the view was a little different from the windows, so that Mello could watch a different set of people moving down different streets. Just a little shift in perspective made all the difference. That was the lesson for today.]

[The smoke from his cigarette spreads out against the glass as he looks down at the people, all milling around like a brightly colored insect colony. Most of them looked to be in a hurry, and they were talking on cellphones to other people who were no doubt in just as much of a hurry, going somewhere else, guiding their lives to their purpose or having it being guided for them.]

[Normal people. That's what they were. All perfectly average and unremarkable.]

[Not really the sort of people that Mello had any interest in, from street level, but up here it was interesting to watch.]

[And part of him, to be honest, was keeping an eye out for Matt, because he would be down there somewhere buying things that Mello wanted but was too much of a prat to go get himself. Mello didn't see him, though, so he takes another drag for every person who looks like they could be Matt, but aren't. Just because.]

[Eventually his concentration is broken by the phone ringing - he doesn't hear it at first, or if he does he doesn't connect it to the one in this room, but once he does he pushes away from the window and answers it without a second thought.]
[identity profile] toxinaddiction.livejournal.com
[The shades are drawn and the lights are off in Matt's room, which makes for a dusky sort of feeling, although it's only late-afternoon. That's fine with him. Most things like this are better in the dark yellow light of 4pm. He read somewhere that this was the time for affairs. Not the silver light of a morning shared with a partner, and not the darkness of the intimate night - those were times for people who had a life together. Afternoons, however, were the times for clandestine meetings and noncommittal flings.]

[Not that this was especially clandestine. But it was definitely noncommittal.]

[Charlotte lies beside him, semi-sleeping and silent, with her head on his shoulder. The air above them is hazy with his cigarette smoke. She isn't a smoker, but she never complains that he tastes like tobacco and ash. Actually, she doesn't complain about very much; he's rarely known anyone as genuinely agreeable as her, or as gentle. Even Saffron had a spark somewhere inside her, but Charlotte, she is gentle and soft and pliant and... boring. In a soothing sort of way. And when he is with her, he can drown his tumult in her skin, and her burnished gold hair, and her breathing. ]

[At least it works... mostly.]

[Well, that's better than nothing.]

[Of course, these things never last forever. And now that he's thinking about it, he's restless again, with this tightening in his stomach that won't release. It's the most frustrating thing he's ever felt, this whole situation - it drives him a little insane, and he wants... something. And he could shake her, just a little, wake her up and drown again, but...]

[He tosses his cigarette into the ashtray by his bedside. It seems this hotel, or his time in it anyway, is not long for this world. He'll miss it, a little.]

Hey.

[He looks down at Charlotte, who opens one eye and yawns.]

I'm going to go... [gestures to the bathroom] ...take a shower. Yeah. You stay here.

[She moves away from him slightly, head falling on the pillow, while he slides out of bed and grabs his pants from the floor.]

Order room service or something, if you want.

[With that, he heads into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.]

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