twenty-seventh breath ✧ action

[musubi]

[Dreams? What dreams. Isamu hasn't been having any dreams. Certainly not the nightmarish kind taking place in a demon-infested, post-apocalyptic world that seem real enough to keep him from wanting to sleep ever again. And he certainly hasn't been avoiding doing just that for the past couple of days, trying to go about his daily routine as if he isn't a disturbed wreck.

Okay, no. All of that's a lie.

He's just lucky he hasn't broken any dishes yet, and he almost spilled a whole tray on a customer earlier. The key word being almost. He isn't ready to lose his job just yet.

It's just business as usual at the Baratie, and he won't hear you argue otherwise.]

Comments

[touchofrogue]

An' that clearly disqualifies him from style.

[No, it's the twirling and hearts that does that, Rogue.

Still. He's not the one she's mocking here.]

[ingrate.livejournal.com]

Clearly.

Actually, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I'm beat.

[touchofrogue]

Hmm. [Having trouble sleeping?

Except that's none of her business. So instead she just twists the coffee pot handle so it's pointing in his direction.]

Coffee?

[ingrate.livejournal.com]

[He waves off the question.]

I'll get more later.

[touchofrogue]

[A shrug.] Suit yourself.

[And she starts in on her chocolate cake again. It's rich, and delicious, and exactly what she needs right now.]