Corrine's Apartment: Metropolis

[amityville_sweetheart]

It's morning. Finally.

Corrine can see the light coming in through the blinds of her living room, and she yawns. She's been up all night, listening for sounds from her bedroom. At one point, she'd gotten rather involved in an infomercial about making money at home. If she were gullible, it would've sounded like a good idea.

Despite the boredom, she'd avoided checking her bank account online all night. She was afraid of the inevitable-- she was broke.

She knew there was an excuse for her. Things with the JSA had been a non-stop action ride, and not that she wasn't happy about a little excitement in her life, but it had all been a little too much. A trip back to normalcy was called for.

Corrine set her tea down on the table, walking towards her bedroom. Inside, she'd set Caleb up in her bed to sleep. She'd checked on him several times in the night, but he seemed to be sleeping soundly. Hours ago she'd abandoned the self-delusion that she was only doing it out of care for a friend.

She pushed the door open, unable to resist the urge to see his sleeping form again.

Comments

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

I, uh, I didn’t mean to offend, but do my words lack merit? Injured or not, I’m here, and I’m going to be fine.

Perhaps .. perhaps it would be prudent to change the topic.

[hotshot1280.livejournal.com]

*Trevor tries to control his anger, with only marginal success.*

Okay, you want another topic, Oh High and Mighty Tactician? How about Corrine? What was the great tactical advantage in dragging a girl like Corrine into anything having to do with the JSA? I mean, they're nice enough people, but let's face it. Shit blows up around them a lot more than it does around the people at the coffee shop.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

*Caleb’s expression suddenly becomes deadly serious, and he draws in air to prepare to yell.*

Do NOT presume that I wasn’t concerned!

*He stops yelling, though his voice still lacks any degree of softness.*

She was missing for 3 days of her own accord, and I sought her out. She called me from the JSA Brownstone, so I had a useful clue as to where to look. Once there, I tried talking to them about how unwise it was for her to be in the field, but I don’t own her! She’s a 24 year old woman, and can make her own decisions!

*A moment passes, and Caleb regains his composure. His voice now becomes slightly softer than normal.*

They weren’t going to kick her out, and she wasn’t going to leave, so I made the best of an undesirable situation. I figured I should try to show her the ropes. And if, as you so eloquently phrased it, shit should go boom, I’d rather it does while I’m there. That’s not meant to detract from Corrine, just .. I … I don’t know. I just worry about her, and don’t want to see her hurt.

[hotshot1280.livejournal.com]

*Trevor recoils only slightly under Caleb's voice, and then prepares to unleash his own. At the last second he thinks better, and holds up both hands, palms out*

You know what? I'm gonna go. Because otherwise, I'm gonna say more stuff that doesn't need to say, at a volume that it doesn't need to be said at, and you're going to respond in kind. If anything changes, you have my cell phone number.

And before you ask, I'll take care of things at the shop for the next few days while you... make yourself look like less of a train-wreck, frankly. When you get back, just remember that as far as everyone knows, you-

*Trevor looks Caleb up and down, trying to decide on a plausible story to account for his injuries.*

-got hit by a bus, I guess. Just keep in mind, if I see you in the store before the end of the week, you're going to wish that Neron guy had killed your ass.

*With that, Trevor grabs his helmet and heads out the door toward his bike. He hops on, popping the earphone wire into the side of the gas tank and pulls off quickly, muttering.*

I could really use something to hit right about now.