It's a weird Christmas. It's just been a weird, weird Christmas, and weirder even that he finds himself caring. Christmas Eve with Kim was really refreshingly nice, but yesterday he got stir-crazy and took off to find a club where no one knew him. He'd found a bed to fall into and left this morning before the sun was fully up to get back to his real life and walk the dog.
This is his first time getting up and out of the house since then. He's been writing and reading nonstop, but he needs to clear his head.
It hasn't been long enough since he threw himself off this pier that he doesn't stop when he sees someone jump off it. After a second his brain supplies that it looks an awful lot like Will Cabot, and so he's probably not trying to drown himself, but Wren heads over in concern anyway.
Will drags himself back up onto the dock. "Only if you don't blame me for the aftermath," Wren says and passes the bottle. He's no one to judge needing a drink or five. He sits down. "Rough holiday, I take it."
no subject
This is his first time getting up and out of the house since then. He's been writing and reading nonstop, but he needs to clear his head.
It hasn't been long enough since he threw himself off this pier that he doesn't stop when he sees someone jump off it. After a second his brain supplies that it looks an awful lot like Will Cabot, and so he's probably not trying to drown himself, but Wren heads over in concern anyway.
Will drags himself back up onto the dock. "Only if you don't blame me for the aftermath," Wren says and passes the bottle. He's no one to judge needing a drink or five. He sits down. "Rough holiday, I take it."