L's surprised he isn't more hungover than he is. He wakes up just as the Sun is beginning to rise on Cesar's couch feeling a little thirsty, and he runs a hand back through his tangled hair as he thinks back on the events of the night prior.
...oh.
...maybe some things are better processed after a cup of strong, black coffee. He straightens his clothes, tucking and fastening himself where he's hanging out or falling apart. Then, he shuffles toward the chair his jacket is draped over and fishes in the pockets for a stick of gum to ameliorate his stale breath. As he chews, he glances around at the apartment and all the things he's so immensely curious about.
He decides not to risk snooping, at least not while he's here in yesterday's clothes, with the scent of mingled sweat and sex clinging to him. As he puts on a pot of coffee and starts rifling around under the counters in the kitchen for a frying pan, he decides that even if he's not sure what he feels about the things they did, he at least doesn't feel bad, and hopefully, Cesar feels similarly.
As he's pulling the pan out of the cupboard, a notebook falls on its side. L stares at it for a second, curious, but also faint with hunger. He sets it atop a few boxes on the kitchen table; maybe after he's made a few plates of french toast and if Cesar isn't awake by then, he'll be bored and give it a glance. For now, he turns to the refrigerator, where he's happy to see eggs, milk and butter. He sets to work making batter, and he thinks he might have the ratio a little bit off, but cooking isn't an exact science or anything. He notices the rum from the night before, tips some into the egg mixture, and then shrugs and pours himself two fingers' worth. As he fires up the stove and begins the fine art of burning the hell out of breakfast, he mentally rehearses how to approach the night before with Cesar.
We had fun, right? It had been awhile, believe me I could tell.
No, maybe too coarse and suggestive for morning light.
I can be an adult about it if you can.
Too cold, impersonal, implying that it was a mistake to be moved past. Negative.
I really liked the movie last night.
Yes? Yes, it gave Cesar a chance to save face if he didn't want to address anything other than the movie, and an opening to bring it up if he did. L congratulates himself on his foresight and thoughtfulness as the kitchen steadily fills with smoke and the egg mixture peels off and sticks to the pan when he attempts to flip the slice.
~~TIME SKIP~~ The Next Morning
...oh.
...maybe some things are better processed after a cup of strong, black coffee. He straightens his clothes, tucking and fastening himself where he's hanging out or falling apart. Then, he shuffles toward the chair his jacket is draped over and fishes in the pockets for a stick of gum to ameliorate his stale breath. As he chews, he glances around at the apartment and all the things he's so immensely curious about.
He decides not to risk snooping, at least not while he's here in yesterday's clothes, with the scent of mingled sweat and sex clinging to him. As he puts on a pot of coffee and starts rifling around under the counters in the kitchen for a frying pan, he decides that even if he's not sure what he feels about the things they did, he at least doesn't feel bad, and hopefully, Cesar feels similarly.
As he's pulling the pan out of the cupboard, a notebook falls on its side. L stares at it for a second, curious, but also faint with hunger. He sets it atop a few boxes on the kitchen table; maybe after he's made a few plates of french toast and if Cesar isn't awake by then, he'll be bored and give it a glance. For now, he turns to the refrigerator, where he's happy to see eggs, milk and butter. He sets to work making batter, and he thinks he might have the ratio a little bit off, but cooking isn't an exact science or anything. He notices the rum from the night before, tips some into the egg mixture, and then shrugs and pours himself two fingers' worth. As he fires up the stove and begins the fine art of burning the hell out of breakfast, he mentally rehearses how to approach the night before with Cesar.
We had fun, right? It had been awhile, believe me I could tell.
No, maybe too coarse and suggestive for morning light.
I can be an adult about it if you can.
Too cold, impersonal, implying that it was a mistake to be moved past. Negative.
I really liked the movie last night.
Yes? Yes, it gave Cesar a chance to save face if he didn't want to address anything other than the movie, and an opening to bring it up if he did. L congratulates himself on his foresight and thoughtfulness as the kitchen steadily fills with smoke and the egg mixture peels off and sticks to the pan when he attempts to flip the slice.