Nov. 14th, 2011

poet_at_heart: Comes from dA. (Default)

He stared down at the glass in his hand, watching the amber liquor move around in it as he tipped the glass, barely paying attention to his friend's ranting. After all, he knew what it was all about, and it made him sigh. Lifting his tired gaze to the other's frustrated one, he spoke without much interest or support in his voice, utterly tired of all this.

"I say, just go down on her more. Or buy her jewelry, take her to fancy restaurants."

[I'm just trying to get rid of some inspiration lying around here... Damn you music! >w>] )

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poet_at_heart: Comes from dA. (Default)
poet_at_heart

December 2011

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