Post by Duke Yaxley on Feb 23, 2014 17:22:29 GMT -5
With a book propped up on his stomach, Deucalion Yaxley was feeling very content and lethargic. He'd finished work an hour earlier and flopped down onto his bed almost the second he'd got back, pausing only to toe off his shoes and pull his shirt off. He was almost horizontal, only his head up on his pillows, and the cigarette in his left hand was dangling with artful indifference from between his fingers as he flipped a page.
The book wasn't especially interesting, but he was struggling through it. He'd never given up on a book and had no intention of starting now, no matter how dull. If he could get through his Hogwarts textbooks he could sure as hell get through these. Pulling the cigarette up to his mouth, he took a long drag and then turned another page.
His flat was incredibly quiet, only the ticking of the kitchen clock making a sound. The afternoon was softly sunny, too, and the golden light floating through the window was catching on the dust in the air. All in all, it was an afternoon perfectly poised to be exploded into by his sister.
As ever, Amara delivered. He barely heard the key in the lock before his front door crashed inwards to reveal her standing there, the whole ambiance inside instantly changing to match up with her vast reserves of energy. Duke, with studied indolence, allowed his book to flop forwards onto his chest, and took another drag at his cigarette.
"Afternoon," he offered at a slow, langourous drawl.
The book wasn't especially interesting, but he was struggling through it. He'd never given up on a book and had no intention of starting now, no matter how dull. If he could get through his Hogwarts textbooks he could sure as hell get through these. Pulling the cigarette up to his mouth, he took a long drag and then turned another page.
His flat was incredibly quiet, only the ticking of the kitchen clock making a sound. The afternoon was softly sunny, too, and the golden light floating through the window was catching on the dust in the air. All in all, it was an afternoon perfectly poised to be exploded into by his sister.
As ever, Amara delivered. He barely heard the key in the lock before his front door crashed inwards to reveal her standing there, the whole ambiance inside instantly changing to match up with her vast reserves of energy. Duke, with studied indolence, allowed his book to flop forwards onto his chest, and took another drag at his cigarette.
"Afternoon," he offered at a slow, langourous drawl.
