, medicine

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Anyone that didn't experience the regular crashing and cursing rolling his apartment, this particular night probably would have anyone thinking someone was being tortured. To the tune of whatever Pandora decided to spit out mingled with the soundtrack of the video game of the moment. Tonight it was Assassins Creed. Assassins, pirates, bullshit. All that combined with the stomping, shouting, cursing, and the occasional shattering of glass let his neighbors know he was definitely home and definitely lethal. If they got in the way of his game.   Throwing the controller down for the third time, he pushed himself off the couch to get the door. A large pizza was waiting on the other side with a gangly teenager just waiting to go home for the night. With a grunt, he traded cash for money and kicked the door shut behind him. Simon was ever the social butterfly, charming and charismatic to everyone -- if you had boobs. And you weren't a complete dingbat. Yeah, those were his top stipulations for anyone who tried to apply for the position of "friend." Which is why Hailea was the object of his current... somewhat stalker tendencies.           TO: HAILEA ( 11:39 PM )           PIZZA. AC. BEER. COME.  A man of such eloquence. He tossed his phone on top of one of the countless packed up boxes littered around his apartment, not bothering to check if she was going to respond. If she wasn't pissed off that he had sent her a chocolate rabbit for Easter. He rolled his eyes thinking about her probable reaction and flopped back on the couch with pizza and beer in hand.

TAGGED     @hailea NOTES       i got this just 4 u

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TO: SIMON ( 11:54 PM )           ON MY WAY.      Long fingernails reached up toward her mouth full of chocolate. Something about holidays turned her stomach into a black hole. Even though she didn't even celebrate Easter it was a fine gesture. And she couldn’t let it go to waste. As her mother would say, there were starving children in Africa who would never approve. While her initial reaction wasn't as kind, the heckling towards him was getting old. Simon was like a human FarmVille request; no matter how much she tried he wouldn't go away. Yes, it was annoying. But in the strangest way it was also encouraging. She took another bite of the now decapitated rabbit before heading out the door of her hotel. Rather than fighting, it seemed easier just to give in, especially if beer was involved.   Having traveled little in the city she did know one thing, if there was ever a place for hope to die it would be on the CTA. She noticed there wasn't much to drown her thoughts other than the occasional hum of the man in bright bike shorts that everyone else was giving a death glare. That is, if they weren't silently looking down at nothing. What was it about being in such a small space that brought out the worst in people? It was like this unwritten law begging to be broken and show up on trashy site that people in their comfy suburban homes drool over. Odd, but anything beat going back to Paris at that point.   H er judgment became cluttered as she walked to his apartment. As much as he tried to get her attention, it was irritating that he assumed he'd get it. And when it happened, she didn't even bother. This was easy being so casual when she lived on a different continent, but certainly not something she wanted him to get used to. Except whatever concern she felt was blocked out as she knocked on the door, instinctively pursing her lips as she waited. The greeting was polite, she was happy to see him, but her mind went back to her main concern. "Where's the beer?"

TAGGED      raeeeeeee NOTES       this is the opposite of good and I am so sorry And I stole your code.

[Deleted]

A beep was all he needed. Either she was going to show up in the next hour -- give or take -- or the next time he managed to hoist his ass off the couch, he was going to find an eloquent text explaining how little she respected his desperate pleas for human interaction. Because if there was anything Simon was good at, it was acting like a neglected puppy around people that tried to push him away. There was probably some sort psychological explanation for that, but he brushed it off. Equating it to some sick sense of determination. She wasn't calling him a stalker or serving him with a restraining order so he was still just on this side of crazy town.  By the time she was knocking, his ego has... kind of started to deflate. A bit. Certainly not enough to sway him from opening the door with a beer bottle in hand and the most cocksure grin on his face. He should probably tone it down, especially if he was going to be living with Cat and expected to ever win over any kind of affection for him (and not just for his exceptional taste in beer) from Hailea. Without preamble, she's flicking his nose like a misbehaved puppy. From desperate to misbehaving, he was starting to see a trend.        "Beer?" he shakes the half-empty bottle before taking another swig and stepping just far enough into the room to let her pass. Not far enough away for her to pass without him being in her personal bubble, of course. Definitely not. "You sure there's not another bottle you'd like to wrap your lips around?" Despite the teasing tone -- and the laugh for extra measure -- he braces himself for any possible negative ramifications of the insinuation.       "Take a seat, make yourself at home, just don't touch my controller unless you wanna leave here in a body bag."

NOTES     at least he's a really pretty human farmville request

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Hailea’s ability to get comfortable usually bordered on ill-mannered. If it was possible, she seemed to have less regard for others possessions than her own. It was a problem, that like most, she had no intention to fix. Swiftly, she passed him while keeping her space. Through sheer force of will she was able to resist rolling her eyes at his comment. "I'm sure." She said flatly in her low voice, a smirk following. No, it wasn't out of the question, but it was still early in the night. Well… technically, it was the middle of the night, but she had plenty of energy. Brushing a strand of dark blonde hair away, she picked up a bottle herself.   His apartment was cleaner in comparison to hers, mostly because she still hadn't fully unpacked boxes from a month ago. When she moved to Paris it was more of an escape from the inevitable ‘called it’s from her friends in New York after breaking off her engagement. But it was nice here. Something about the relaxed atmosphere and people genuinely caring about loitering felt refreshing. Not to mention Cat was here. Arguably, her only friend excluding her new Chihuahua, Nacho (which wasn’t racist, he just had the personality of Jack Black in dog form). She didn't feel ready to leave.   Once she sat on the couch, her foot reached casually on the table, mot noticing the controller until it was on the floor. "Oops." She said, giving off her best puppy dog eyes in his direction after hearing his warning. She never really understood how people got so invested in these games. All of that time, energy, cursing was for what? At least in real sports they give people weird jewelry and a title. The idea was backwards, but still funny. If she'd learned anything from her guy friends it was best to just leave it alone. Quickly, she picked it up and surveyed the damage, the screen looked normal, if normal was so pirate looking people. Lifting two apologetic thumbs up. But it couldn't come without another question about his lifestyle. "You know there's actually thing called social interaction. Maybe you should try it more."

NOTES     xo

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This was exactly part of the reason why Hailea held such an appeal in his books. She wasn't like every other female under the sun. Most women would have reacted one of two ways -- a) by closing the door and dropping to their knees (which, really, Simon wouldn't reject, but it certainly didn't keep his attention the next morning); or b) by slapping him hard and storming out of the building in an indignant huff. When the words come out of his mouth, there's no doubt he's hoping she'll go with the prior choice, but he's secretly pleased that she rejects him. That she brushes his crudeness off with something he assumes is akin to indifference. He needed indifference when he was in a mood.        "The offer is still on the table if you, y'know--" he makes a crude gesture with his tongue in cheek and waggles his eyebrows, "-- get a hankering." He was definitely going to Hell.  Watching her shuffle around the apartment, his grin falters and his light-hearted tone shifts down several notches. Suddenly, the man sounds incredibly grave whilst issuing his threat. "Be careful with that, if you damage my baby, I'm going to have to kidnap your rodent of a pet and sell it on the black market to replace it, alright?" He's kidding. Mostly. Kind of. He lifts a shoulder at his own internal monologue, as if she should be able to read his thoughts by the goofy expression on his face.  He plops on the couch, swinging his legs onto the coffee table and dropping the pizza box in between them. "Are you telling me what we're doing here doesn't count as social interaction?" He cocks a brow. Truth be told, he didn't like interacting with the general public. Ask the man he was pre-enlistment what he was doing sitting on the couch nearly every night and he'd laugh in your face. Now, living in the real world was more of a chore than it was worth. "Nah, not for me. What're you doing not living the high life. Chicago is the epicenter of excitement, you know."

NOTES     banaananana

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On paper he was her type, tough and over the height minimum. She did have a thing for the guy that could probably do push-ups with her if he really wanted to, despite how many times she put down his masculinity. Even by even her ridiculous standards, he was hot, although she didn't want to inflate his ego anymore. The real issue was with her. To say she didn't like affection wasn't completely accurate. It was more apathy. As much as she pushed him away, she felt the smallest bit of relief when he came around again. And here she was by her own will. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was letting him in.   Was he twelve? Her hand reached to her temple as she watched his absurd face. The only response she managed was a laugh. Taking another sip of her beer she wished he knew she was kidding about him being social. It wasn't that she thought he was a recluse, but rather had no idea what he was doing with time. With all their time getting to know each other, she still wasn't sure she'd gotten much out of him. But it didn’t stop her from trying again. "No, I just mean the CIA probably has you really busy, right?" From their previous conversation she could tell he didn't want her to know his occupation or what was doing since he was deployed. That was understandable, but no one in a big city doing nothing could have a place like this, or anywhere for that matter. Unlike most of her comments it wasn't coming from a place of judgment but more curiosity.   "It's not too bad. " She said hoping it would give off as much enthusiasm as she actually felt. Taking advice her friends she'd been doing her best not to judge Chicago until gotten to know it, an approach she'd never really use on people. Usually first impressions were enough to decide if she wanted to keep someone in her life or not. She had a tight knit circle, and she liked it that way. However, she was fairly out of it when she met Simon. And in a much different place in her life, so she decided to let that one slide. Then the next day there were flowers at her door, which Hailea found a new home for in the garbage. Was it rude? Probably. But at least she usually recycled.

NOTES     you keep doin' you