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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2015 2:57:53 GMT
the door was unlocked. or so she'll say. karin stuffs her hands into her pockets and heads straight for the kitchen.
it's half past noon and kieran will either be out of the house or out of it enough he won't notice. and if he does - she's not to worried.
she's raiding the fridge when she hears the groan of bedsprings and the approach of footsteps.
"don't shoot." she says, shutting the fridge door. her hands are raised in the universal sign of surrender, still with a jagged bread knife in hand. "did you want a sandwich too?"
@kieran |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2015 2:45:09 GMT
the groove that makes those smooth hips move it was uncharacteristic for kieran to be up before the crack of dusk most days, but sometimes things just happened. when he peered through his mess of orange hair the angry red digital letters of his alarm clock read 12:30, and the light outside let him know it wasn't the normal 12:30 for him.
with a sigh he pushed himself up and out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold faux-wood floor. he was never going to get used to how cold canada was in the winter. it wasn't even that warm in the summer, at least not like it was back home.
still, he slept in just a t-shirt and sweatpants. he couldn't really complain about being cold if that's all he decided to wear, but kieran argued he got too warm under the covers if he put on too many layers. all of that was moot as he shuffled to the kitchen, coffee and breakfast the only things on his mind, even though his breakfast was probably going to be leftover takeout.
but he stopped dead when he saw a blonde head poked into his fridge. it took him a few moments to realize that it was just karin rummaging through his stuff, and a few more moments for him to wonder why she was here in the first place.
"what are you doing?" he asked, voice still groggy as he sleepily surveyed her with the good eye. "how did you get in my house?"
@karin |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2015 3:08:52 GMT
lowering her hands, she wolf whistled - she'd been expecting a southern drawl and a smoking gun, because kieran was like a cartoon sometimes, (or maybe he was more interesting to imagine that way). cocking her head, she shuts an eye and squints a little, not in any deliberate mockery. she wonders if there's any shrapnel in his brain from the presumed gunshot that he lost his eye to. she decides it's probably rude to ask.
"did it hurt?" karin points, decides she doesn't really care - she's already broken into his house. "uh, well, you didn't lock your door, monsieur." she waves it off, she waves the knife around and speaks with a bit of indignation. "hey, i'm offering to make you breakfast." earth to kieran.
@kieran |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2015 3:21:05 GMT
the groove that makes those smooth hips move everyone asked after a while, but he didn't think it would happen like this...him standing in his kitchen in his pajamas while his bandmate stood there after having broke into his house. god, sometimes kieran swears this shit is set up and he's on some candid camera revival show.
"i lost an eye, what do you think?" he asked, unable to rein back the bite of sarcasm. the eye was always as sore subject, but he was surprised she didn't know about it already. then again it did happen a little before she joined the band, maybe she just didn't watch the news, or tmz or anything along those lines.
kieran wasn't even famous, by any means, but when a coked up musician hits a tree and nearly kills people and dies himself, it's gonna get some coverage. still, it's not like he wanted to talk about it. he supposed the eyepatch was almost ubiquitous now, and not wearing it and displaying the scarring was more noticeable.
and even though he was high again last night he swore he locked the door, but getting into that argument with karin wasn't something he wanted to delve into when he was still so tired. but the offer for food did ring clear, and he pondered it for a moment.
"fine. wait, what are you making, exactly?" she said sandwiches, but he didn't want to end up with something weird. and it was karin, after all.
@karin |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2015 4:10:59 GMT
he snaps at her, and karin just looks at him with a daze smile, as if she doesn't entirely understand. "sometimes people go into shock, and it releases all these hormones, and they don't feel a thing." most of the time she feels like talking for the sake of talking, because she knows nobody really cares to hear her justified.
but she's hungry too, so that's all in the past and far besides the point. "a sandwich." she tells him. she tells him slowly and clearly. "you have those in america, right?" she mimes putting one together. "bread. ham. cheese. lettuce."
@kieran |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2015 0:11:02 GMT
the groove that makes those smooth hips move tension headaches. that's what karin reminded him of, tension headaches, because he always seemed to get them when she was around. he fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"yes, we have sandwiches in america," he responded, trying not to snap at her. kieran wasn't really an angry person, but he was in the morning when someone was confusing him so early. he just wanted a little slack, he just woke up.
"and fine, i'll have one if you're makin' them," he said. if she was going to offer, she was probably going to make them, right? but he didn't mind that much if she wouldn't, because then his plan a would just come into effect, even though takeout was never very good on the second day.
@karin |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 26, 2015 1:12:43 GMT
she nodded, satisfied and solemn. just like that, he doesn't seem to care why or how she's here anymore. the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. if she notices the edge in his voice (she does), it doesn't bother her, as she opens the fridge again and starts pulling out food.
it is by no means a well-stocked fridge, but it might as well be apocalyptic survival bunker compared to her own. butter, cheese, ham, mayonnaise, vegetables, she spills all the ingredients onto the counter, catches a tomato before it rolls onto the ground. she goes quiet as she slices and stacks with a casual ease, like she might as well be standing in her own kitchen.
@kieran
srry i couldnt come up w anything for her to say sandwiches r srs business |
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Mar 26, 2015 22:48:26 GMT
Post by Deleted on Mar 26, 2015 22:48:26 GMT
the groove that makes those smooth hips move kieran was tired and he was hungry, and someone in his house was willing to make him food. he couldn't argue with that too much, especially since (as far as he knew) karin didn't have an ulterior motive to stab him. at least right now.
but it was still a little odd as to why she was here in the first place.
"sooo...why did you drop by again?" if he said she broke in she'd just claim the door was unlocked again. "i mean, it's fine, i guess...just wondering. was i late for something?"
it was often that kieran would be late to practices or gigs, especially because he was sleeping. then again, karin wouldn't be calmly and diligently making sandwiches if the band had somewhere to be. he hoped, anyways. then again, hoping that would kind of make him a hypocrite.
@karin |
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Mar 28, 2015 17:33:14 GMT
Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2015 17:33:14 GMT
"nah." she glances up to meet his eyes (well, his eye, hahaha) "i was in the area." she says in way of flimsy explanation. not that it's too far out - she's either shut in or wandering. she seems to have sandwich making down to a very fast and precise art. though she doesn't bother to find a cutting board she doesn't think it matters much to kieran in this pigsty of an apartment. it doesn't matter to her either.
but this is a well-worn and boring topic. how did you get in here? can you leave? why do you keep doing this?
"any plans for the day, sunshine?"
@kieran
i almost tagged myself... fml these names |
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