Room 505: Tuesday Night

[thatsamilkshake]

Thoroughly showered and de-veggie-gutted, Francine, wet hair draped over her shoulder, was picking at way too much take-out from the diner and eying the tray of lemon squares like she might just skip dinner entirely and go straight to dessert.

Any resemblance to the picking she was doing at events of this week in general or last night in particular was purely coincidental. In some universe.

[OOC: For various members of the clustre du fucque.]

Comments

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Stop apologizing, Francine." If Katchoo sounded a little tired, she really was. Beating up on purple vegetable-things took it out of you. "I don't mind, from you."

The word still didn't have the best associations for her, but dammit, this was different, or should be.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Sor---" Cough. "I just... maybe I am going in the wrong order, you know? I mean, we've known each other forever. We already live together. I already..." Maybe it wasn't the time or the place to say think I might be spending the rest of my life with you, no matter what we are to each other when we do that. "It's like trying to jump right to the end without knowing how we got there."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"That only works for cheesy mystery novels, I think." Katchoo found herself a nice untomatoey shoulder to use as a pillow. "Unless you already know how the story ends. But they always say the interesting part is getting there."

[thatsamilkshake]

"I hope so, because that's what I'm working on."