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Post by theocarlisle on Jun 26, 2012 23:19:34 GMT -5
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[style=text-align: center]  make you wanna scream [/style][style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: CCCCCC;]It wasn't unusual for Theo to just lock himself up in his study, drowning his mishaps in his writing. "Moan" was coming along quite smoothly, he found. The novelist actually found it to be quite liberating to sit down and write the most while he was pissed off at his ex-wife. Especially today. He had ignored phone-calls from his buddies all day, having locked himself up quite literally in his home to sit at his computer desk and type, type, type away at his keyboard. He managed to pump out a couple good chapters in his fury. Taisha had called him that morning while he was showering, so of course he had missed the call. In his voicemail, however, there were two very furious messages from a drunken woman - the same woman he had fallen in love with so many years before. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. However... she was only in it for the money, it seemed. And the irony of it all? Theo fought hard so she didn't get a single penny more than what she was entitled too. She still got a fair sum of money... however, she blew it all within this first year of their divorce, and that's what all the recent phonecalls were for. More money.
Not likely.
Theo had finally picked the phone up, nearly shouting into it as he fully expected it to be Taisha at this time of evening - she usually called around dinner. However, it was a good friend of his, Jeremy. He was laughing, and Theo heard some laughter in the background. Ah, so it was his small group of idiot friends. A small smile tugged at his lips a moment before he sighed, leaning back in his chair and asking rather bluntly what the guy wanted. When the laughter died down, Jeremy finally spoke. "Hey, buddy, we ordered something for you." More snickering in the background, and Theo rolled his brilliant eyes. Theo had the kind of eyes that looked blue in certain light... though when he stepped out into the sun, they took on a more greenish tint. It was unique in its own way. "Ordered? Ordered me what?" The laughter grew, and the novelist sighed deeply, scrubbing at his face. "Trust me, man, you'll appreciate it. You just need to loosen up, bro." Hanging up the phone, the man tilted his head, laughing to himself and pondering to himself.
Pizza, perhaps? Maybe they ordered him a pizza with "I love dick" written on it in pepperoni like they had done once? Ah, always the class clowns. They hadn't grown up much since college... whereas here was Theo, pumping out his fourth novel... and the smuttiest one out of them all so far.
Taking a few moments to dig out his wallet, Theo tossed it to the side on his computer desk. There was no doubt those dicks were gonna make him pay for the crude pizza himself, like they always did. Just as Theo was about to get back into the swing of writing again, the doorbell rang. Grumbling to himself, Theo reached for his wallet, shoving it in his back pocket while he smoothed out his shirt. He wasn't overly dressed - not that he should have been dressed up while sitting at home, but Theo was the kinda gentleman who liked to look good. When he looked good, he felt good. Currently, he was a little more laid back than normal. A black long sleeve shirt hugged his chest and arms, and a pair of dark washed jeans were worn snugly around his hips. His hair actually managed to stay relatively lax today, slicking back on it's own generously and tufting out here and there to give him a sort of bed-head look.
Once he reached the door, Theo opened it quickly, a small pursed look upon his features as he fully expected some greasy looking teenaged boy with a dirty hat and bent pizza box... however, when he pulled his wallet out and grabbed for some cash, his eyes finally flicked up, and fell on an attractive young woman. Brows arched, and Theo tilted his head slightly, smirking awkwardly and glancing over her shoulder. Did she maybe perch the pizza box on the railing of the balcony behind her? Hrmmn. Better to be safe than sorry. "Uhm, uh. Can I help you, dear?" She looked too young to want to be called "Miss" or "Lil' Lady", as he liked to address some women.
Hmn. Where was his pizza? The more he thought about it, the more a pepperoni pizza sounded inviting. [/style]
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Post by ryan on Jun 27, 2012 0:23:56 GMT -5
 "Saul... Saul? Saul! Answer you fucking door, you dick. I need milk, I'm all out again." Ryan slammed her slender, tight-knitted fist against the rough, wooden door. She knew Saul was in - she'd leaned over the railing earlier and noticed his shot-up car in the parking lot - and if he was on some fancy ass date with his girlfriend.. Well, it'd have to wait. Ryan was running low on money - as she always was - and she simply didn't want to scout down to run down mini-market nearby and grab a carton of milk. So, Saul would have to do. She rapped her hands on the wooden door once again, pushing a hand through her brown hair before pushing it behind her ears. When he didn't reply, again, she pushed her ear to the door, listening for him. Yet, she heard nothing. With a moan, and an uncursory word under her breath, she left the door, stomping back to the end of the balcony to her own, shitty apartment. She avoided the eyes of her neighbor, who was watching her with a lazy curiosity, and rushed into her own apartment - locking it for good measure. She moved then, throughout the half-assed apartment, crawling across the torn couch and sliding into it gratefully. Ryan's hand pulled through her thin hair again, pulling it up on top of her head, before peering out the blinds. What could she do with the rest of her night?
Well obviously she couldn't have a glass of milk.
Ryan leaned over the scratched coffee table, reaching with her feathered fingertips for the pack of cigarettes that lingered there. Her fingers, slim and ivory in color, wrapped around the white and red pack, slipping it up to her chest. She flicked it open easily, and extracted one of the slim, white death sticks, before chucking the pack back on the table. She reached into her front jeans pocket, stretching awkwardly on the couch that was too small for her, and extracted the red lighter. Ryan pulled it up to the stick, that was now resting in the crook where her pink lips met, and lit it, taking a deep drag of the stick, and sticking the lighter back in it's place. She laid on her back, with her head resting on one arm of the chair, and her thin legs dangling over the arm. Ryan pulled the stick from her mouth, pushing the smoke into the air with deliberation, her emerald eyes watching intently as the smoke swirled in the air above her.
Her phone, buzzing in her pants pocket (it was laying against the absent lighter), brought her out of her half-witted daze. She pulled it out, stretching herself awkwardly so that she could reach it, and peered down at the caller ID. She didn't know the number. Had it been anyone else, they probably wouldn't have answered the phone. But given Ryan had herself messed up in some shady business - drugs, prostitution; you name it - she wasn't unfamiliar to a call from a strange number. So, with the death stick in one hand, and her shitty phone in the other, she answered the call. "Hello?" Her voice, usually lyrical and relaxed, was terse and forceful. The voice that spoke on the other end was distinctly male. So it was one of those calls. "Hello? Uhm, is this Ryan Kero.. Kero-" "Kerouac. Yeah, that's me." The other voice, the male one, was accompanied by a good deal of snickers. Ryan tried to ignore them. The voice then continued to fill in Ryan, on a job that she would have to do. Tonight. Usually Ryan would refuse, but she was in desperate need of the money. With a sigh, she agreed and hung up the phone.
Around thirty minutes later, she was pulling up to the small apartment complex she'd be given directions too. She rolled the key in it's slot, turning the shitty small car to death, before peering up at the building. It was nice, in comparison to what she lived in. She wondered absently how much money she would make tonight - and if it would be enough to keep her going for the next week. She could ask for double waitressing shifts - but she hated the people and the job. With a moan, she jumped out of her car. With the small, crinkled paper in her palm, she wandered along the hallway - peering absently at the numbers stapled on the walls. Ryan, after a few minutes of meandering aimlessly, avoiding the eyes of the locals that brushed passed her with suspicious, narrowed eyes, found the apartment she had been seeking. She stood outside of it, freshly showered, with nicer clothes on, unsure of her chances. But she didn't have the choice. She had to do it. Ryan raised a clenched fist, pausing hesitantly, before rapping it against the wooden door, and standing back.
Ryan could say she was honestly surprised by the man who had opened the door. He was tall, had a good several inches on her meager five foot five. He was handsome - in the gentleman, finely-cut sort of way (not the rugged, unkempt handsome she was used too), but she considered herself lucky. Most of her clients were either poor, or ugly. And this gentleman, it appeared, was neither. "Uhm, uh. Can I help you, dear?" Dear? Who was this guy? Ryan shoved her hands into her back pockets, furrowing her brows and peering at the ground for a moment, before sighing and sucking it up. She would have to deal. "Yeah, yeah you can." She said, her voice wilting in her throat. She looked down the hallway - watching as a neighbor peered suspiciously at her yet again - and had to abandon her manners. She pushed past him, moving into the apartment, before turning around and looking at him. "So what do you want?" She peered around, noticing that there wasn't anyone else in the apartment. Had his giggling friends left? "You didn't specify when you called." Ryan moved toward the chair, her ivory fingers lingering over the buttons on her flannel, her emerald eyes dull and tired. |
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Post by theocarlisle on Jun 27, 2012 0:55:29 GMT -5
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[style=text-align: center] make you wanna scream [/style][style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: CCCCCC;]Well, then. This was slightly awkward. As they stood there staring at each other awkwardly, Theo furrowed his own brows as she did, and when she placed her hands in her back pockets, he gave her a quick look over. A small and nervous smile tugged at his lips, and he folded his wallet, shoving it into his back pocket swiftly before fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Tilting his head gently, he pondered quietly to himself as she spoke up. She sounded a little saddened. Had he done something to offend her? Quickly, Theo arched a brow, perking up a little and wanting to right whatever wrong he did. So, he could help her. Alright, cool, good. But with... oh, no. Oh, no, dear God no! Did they order a stupid interview!? Glaring over his shoulder quickly, Theo silently cursed Jeremy and his buddies. "Uhh, you're not that-- oh."
She pushed past him quite quickly, and immediately Theo slammed the door closed, whirling around and crossing his arms defensively across his chest. He was about to fire questions at her, but she began speaking again once she was inside. What did he want? "What do you..." he trailed off, confused. What was this nonsense being thrown at him? As she spoke again, fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt, Theo tilted his head, stepping into the livingroom and reaching out to lean against the back of one of his lazy boys. Reaching a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, the novelist shit his eyes tightly, releasing a deep sigh and then shaking his head. Rolling his eyes, his arms crossed against his chest once more.
"You're not that Melody Austin woman from the Manchester Kneel Fanclub are you?" he grumbled, scrubbing at his face in irritation. Giving her a once over, Theo finally drew in a breath, waving his hand towards the couch gently before he moved around his lazy boy to perch himself on the edge of the seat. Theo was very modest. He was rich - very rich... however, a majority of it was tucked away in a savings account. Not to mention a... vacation home in Hawaii he was paying off, but that's beside the point. He had gone a little spend happy when he got divorced, okay? Theo's apartment was well decorated. Cleanly and organized always. He wasn't a stickler for messes, but he preferred to be clean. It was just his lifestyle. "Look, I told your club that I'd do an interview... but these random appearances need to... they just need to stop, alright?"
Leaning back a bit, Theo rubbed at his legs boredly - a distraction from getting too angry with this late night visit. He could be in his room, working on more to his novel... but no, Jeremy had to go ahead and send this... attractive young woman to get an interview out of him! Well, not tonight! No, sir! "I'm sorry, uhm... was it a Jeremy Reynolds who called you?" Well, it was Jeremy who said they had ordered something for him... however, he couldn't figure out why they used the term "ordered"... "However," he started, moving to stand next to her, "since you're already here, there's no use kicking you out. Even if you so rudely barged into my home." Oh, oblivious Theo was oblivious. Reaching past her slowly, the man grabbed for a mug off the side table so he could bring it into the kitchen to clean later. "Uh, you want coffee? Tea? I have fruit punch in the fridge...?" [/style]
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Post by ryan on Jun 27, 2012 1:26:38 GMT -5
"You're not that Melody Austin woman from the Manchester Kneel Fanclub are you?" Ryan was inclined to be annoyed. She had been summoned to this guys house, at this hour of the night, at an impetuous request. She didn't usually work under these sort of circumstances - she didn't just linger on the corner and wait for someone good enough to show up. She had a little more class than that. But right now, she needed the money. She didn't have any milk. She needed to pay her rent for the past two months, or else she was out cold. And where could she turn to if she was kicked out of her apartment? She had no family - just a string of foster homes who didn't know her by the name Ryan Kerouac. She could shove herself on Saul, but he would grow tired of her carefree antics and her constant partying. Even he wasn't that active. In fact, the only activity he did was screw his pretty, blonde girlfriend. Ryan didn't like her much.
"Uhm," Ryan mumbled, wandering toward the couch he had pointed out. She settled down in it, awkwardly. She didn't feel comfortable in this apartment. And Ryan couldn't help that her green eyes wandered, curiously, over his furnishing. By the looks of it, he wasn't poor, and for Ryan, that was good. But she snapped back to attention, her fingers folded in her lap. But before she could respond, with some disjointed reply about how she was far from some preachy, stuck-up, book club leader, he spoke again. "Look, I told your club that I'd do an interview... but these random appearances need to... they just need to stop, alright?" Ryan wasn't really sure what to say. Was this some weird sort of roleplay? She'd done that kind of shit before - she wasn't very good at it, since it always made her feel a little uncomfortable. But she was used to the sort of roleplays that were typical of horny men. Something along the lines of - well. Things. But she'd never played a leader of a book club. The thought almost made her shiver. But whatever got him off, she supposed.
"My name isn't Melody Austin, and I'm definitely not some book-club person," Ryan mumbled, awkwardly, her brows furrowed as she peered up at the man. "Unless you want me to be?" She offered quietly, rubbing her fingers together in her lap. She hoped he would say no. She'd never been one for roleplaying - she wasn't an actress. But then again - the money was the only thing that mattered. And this man had money. So as of right now, he was the only thing that mattered. "I'm sorry, uhm... was it a Jeremy Reynolds who called you?" Ryan squinted at the man, her thoughts reeling back to the phone call from earlier. Had the man said his name? She retraced her thoughts, her emerald eyes rolling up to the ceiling as she bit her lip thoughtfully. "Uhm. Maybe," she offered lazily, pushing a loose strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "Some guy just called me and told me to come here. And that you'd pay me, was all. Said you needed it?" Ryan rolled a hand through her thin air, feeling like she could curl up in a ball and simply disappear. Maybe she shouldn't have come after all.
"However, since you're already here, there's no use kicking you out. Even if you so rudely barged into my home." Ryan peered up at him, as he came to stand beside her, looming over her rather like a giant. If Ryan hadn't been confronted by guys like him before, she would've been scared - but she was eerily confident. This was her area of expertise, after all. She shifted awkwardly, though, in the chair, and peered down at the converse that were strapped on her feet. Maybe she should've worn something neater. "Oh, uh. I'm sorry about that. I just figured you wouldn't want anyone to see me outside," Ryan added distractedly, leaning away from him as he crossed over her to grab a nearby mug. When would this end? "Uh, you want coffee? Tea? I have fruit punch in the fridge...?" Coffee? Tea? Fruit punch? Ryan felt rather overwhelmed - yes, shouldn't have come. "Do you have any beer?" She asked absently, peering up at him again with her bright green eyes. She could do with getting drunk.
"Uhm. Well do you want to start anytime soon? Or do you like chatting before or something? Cause I guess I could do that too, just most people aren't into that. They always think I'm really stupid because I'm.. Well, what I am." Ryan rambled nervously, twining her fingers around in her lap, her emerald eyes fixated on them, before dancing up to his face again. |
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Post by theocarlisle on Jun 27, 2012 1:58:33 GMT -5
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[style=text-align: center] make you wanna scream [/style][style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: CCCCCC;]When she continued fidgeting, Theo couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. He wasn't a scary looking guy, but he supposed his height could be a benefactor in any sort of intimidating feelings. Rubbing the back of his neck sorely, the novelist tipped his chin down, scratching at the small amount of scruff dappled on his jaw. Her words caught him off guard, however, and he swallowed hard. He was beginning to piece it all together rather quickly... as much as he wanted to deny it to himself. Yup. When she offered to be what he wanted her to be, Theo could have slapped himself in the face. Duh. What else would his buddies send him? Who else than a prostitute? Ughh. Sighing gently, Theo shook his head as the wheels in his heard turned much more quickly. Okay, so maybe she wasn't... he couldn't automatically assume. Clearing his throat, the man once more rubbed at the back of his neck - a nervous habit.
When she squinted at him, rolling her eyes to the ceiling to ponder, and then lay her gorgeous hazels back on him, Theo couldn't help but feel a little dumbstruck. She was absolutely gorgeous... so then why was she doing this, of all trades? Wait, wait. He still couldn't assume. But comments like the ones she was throwing out were all too obvious. How old was this girl? Nodding with frustration, Theo huffed gently, shaking his head in disbelief. His buddies were in for it next time, oh yes. "Of course." he mumbled quietly, before offering her a wavering smile. Her apology hadn't gone unheard, and he simply nodded slowly, arching a brow in silent response. Yes, if he actually knew a harlot was coming to his door at night, then he probably wouldn't have wanted anyone to see her. Mind you... he wasn't that guy. He wasn't one to tuck beautiful women away, no matter their profession.
Moving into the kitchen smoothly, he opened the fridge to rummage through, smirking to himself and grabbing a couple beer from the back. He had forgotten he had bought a case not long ago when he was in a particularly off mood about Taisha. "Got a case." Cracking open the bottles, Theo moved back into the living area, setting her beer on the coffee table before her and then seating himself down next to her on the couch, leaning back and away from her so he could study her. He was hoping not to give an arrogant or creepy sort of air towards her, but the couch was a bit small. Hence why he leaned back as much as he did. The lightbulb finally flickered on when she did reveal what she was - by pussyfooting around it, but she did sort of reveal it. Yup, she was a prostitute. His guesses were correct. Taking a swig from his own long necked beer, Theo trained his eyes on her face, his brows furrowing in that "kicked puppy" look of concern he often got when things upset him.
"Why don't we just talk the entire night?" he offered with a small smile. "I... didn't call you, nor had I any indication of your coming here until you were here... but there's no sense in going home now, after the trouble of getting here." Theo tilted forward a bit to fish the wallet out of his back pocket, and he tossed it on the table before her. "I'm serious. No funny business, no beating around the bush, no... nothing. We'll just talk." his smile finally widened a bit. "If you'd like to." Taking another swig of his beer, he tilted again, grabbing for his pack of cigarettes. Pulling one from the pack, he reached behind her to grab for the ashtray on the side table, placing that as well on the coffee table in front of them. "Want one?" he asked softly, waving the pack at her. If she took one or not was beyond him, and he tossed the pack on the table as well. Leaning back again, he lit the smoke, laying an arm against the back of his couch with a rather... indifferent expression on his features.
"I'll pay you." he finally admitted, though he hadn't realized his voice grew a little desperate. Theo hadn't realized how desperate for human contact he truly was - mentally, emotionally... and yes, physically, but he was a gentleman. And he wouldn't pressure a young woman into doing such a thing. Job, or not. "Whatever you... uhm. Charge. I'll pay you for your troubles. Promise. My wallet's on the table, you could even just grab the money and leave right now, if you want." His brows furrowed again. Damn that "kicked puppy" look. When he was sure she wouldn't be leaving right away, the man sighed, clearing his throat before offering a warmer smile. "My name's Theo. ... And I'm sorry for my friend's idiotic behavior." [/style]
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Post by ryan on Jun 27, 2012 2:34:57 GMT -5
"Got a case." Thank God. Ryan had never been much of a religious person, in fact, she wasn't religious at all. At the foster home she hadn't been forced into anything, just let alone in her room to believe whatever the hell she'd wanted. But her first home had belonged to an inherently Catholic family. Like a prized possession. They had shoved their religion down her throat, forcing her into awkward dresses so that she could attend church with them, and speaking prayer before eating, and maybe even praying before bed, and reading the god damn bible. She'd hated it all. To her, it was all some sort of political bullshit. If there was a God - which she refused to believe - then why was he so blatantly cruel? If he really did love everyone one of his "children" on earth, then how come thousands of people died everyday? What about them? And why couldn't Ryan afford milk? If God truly loved her, then he would guarantee her enough money to buy a carton of milk, at least. But she was a prostitute. She assumed God made exceptions for people like her. So fuck him.
Ryan watched, with a silent awkwardness, as the man settled the beer on the edge of the table. Even though it was strange that he hadn't handed it to her, she was more relieved that he hadn't. And once he had retreated to the other side of the small couch, she gratefully lifted the cold glass into her ivory palms. "Thanks," she mumbled awkwardly, before lifting the glass to her lips. The cool liquid, almost sour in taste, traveled down her throat, and settled in her chest, warming her, and giving her the confidence that she apparently lacked. She'd never felt afraid of a client - okay, maybe once or twice, but those were on rare occasions. But there was something so completely different about this guy, that it unnerved her. He was one of the big guys. One of the guys that only the "classy" girls got. Not a twenty year old college student who was a part-time waitress who couldn't afford milk. She was in a realm that was completely new to her, and it threw her off of her game.
"Why don't we just talk the entire night?" His words surprised Ryan enough for her green eyes to dance from the beer in her fingers to his face, as it rested on the other side of the couch. She couldn't help the initial reaction - the furrow of the brows and the light confusion. He just wanted to talk? "I... didn't call you, nor had I any indication of your coming here until you were here... but there's no sense in going home now, after the trouble of getting here." Ryan felt her face sink. She should have known with the snickering on the other end. She'd traveled all the way out here, nervous as fuck, for absolutely nothing. Suddenly, her rigid form relaxed, but not with happiness. No. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She was pissed. She could be spending her time doing other things that would earn her money, and sitting here talking to some dude who had money was not a way to do that. "I'm serious. No funny business, no beating around the bush, no... nothing. We'll just talk. If you'd like to." If she'd like to? Ryan's brows furrowed quietly. Did she?People didn't care about talking to her - not even her friends. Her friends kept her around because she always had beer, and she always had a place to crash. But none of her friends knew her. That concept was foreign, and frightening. That couldn't happen.
"Want one?" Ryan's green eyes clung to the pack hungrily. It was true, that nicotine was completely and utterly addictive. She nodded her head, almost hesitantly, before confirming the action with a statement. "Yes please," she spoke quietly. She reached out, took one of the white death sticks from the pack, before retreating into the corner of the chair again. She reached into her pocket, wedging the beer between her thighs, and produced her red lighter, lighting the end of the stick as it hung from the crook of her lips. Once lit, she stuffed the lighter back into her pocket, and took a drag of the stick, blowing the smoke into the air with a distracted gaze - watching once again as it swirled in front of her face rather like a child. She snapped out of it, though, and embarrassingly picked up her beer, holding her stick in one hand, and took another swig. A beer - a good beer at that - and a cigarette? What was she, a princess? She felt like one.
"I'll pay you." This, too, surprised Ryan. Her green eyes snapped to his face again, watching him observantly. Was he being serious? Or was this another joke? What kind of person would pay someone for not doing anything? It sounded pretty ridiculous, really. "Whatever you... uhm. Charge. I'll pay you for your troubles. Promise. My wallet's on the table, you could even just grab the money and leave right now, if you want." Ryan's eyes drifted from his face, to the wallet on the table. If she had any sense, she would grab the thing and run. He had no idea who she was, and she needed it. So badly. But she had morals - despite her flamboyant nature - and she had to stick by them. At least she'd learnt something. "I don't really have a set rate. I just sort of get whatever I can," Ryan said shamefully, running her free hand through her thin, brown hair. It was true - Ryan didn't have the choice to be picky. It was take it or leave it. "And I couldn't take money from you. Not after you've given me this," she holds up the beer and the cigarette with a nervous chuckle. "If anything I should be paying you," she mumbles quietly, before smiling half-heartedly and taking another nervous drag of the stick.
"My name's Theo. ... And I'm sorry for my friend's idiotic behavior." Finally, Ryan manages to muster a half-hearted smile and a light chuckle in response. She ruffles her hair again, pushing it behind her ear and laughing awkwardly in the silence. "Ryan," she offered again, shrugging her shoulders lightly. She was impartial to her name - it sounded a lot better than Jessica Walters. "And it's alright. I can't say it happens a lot, though." She chuckled awkwardly again, her green eyes drifting over the beer again. "Pretty good prank, though." Although Ryan's half-smiling, there's an undercurrent to her voice. She was upset that she'd have to go home empty handed again - she couldn't take the guys money. Not even if she wanted too. "Uhm," she started awkwardly, looking around the room. "This is a nice place." A lot better than hers, in any case. |
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Post by theocarlisle on Jun 27, 2012 11:10:10 GMT -5
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[style=text-align: center] make you wanna scream [/style][style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: CCCCCC;]Blue-greens watched her curiously, quietly, as she fidgeted and let involuntary actions speak louder than her words possibly ever could. That's not to say Theo thought she was a quiet girl by any means. She looked wild. She looked like the type of girl who could kick his ass, that's for sure - mainly because, well.. he was too gentle to ever fight back. But, that's beside the point. When she took the smoke, Theo had to admit he was slightly surprised with how polite she was. She had to have been absolutely pissed with what he had just told her. However, in a way... Theo figured she should at least be a little relieved. He wasn't going to "hit it and quit it" in any way, and she was going to leave his home with a good handful of cash. There had to be some sort of relief... right? Or maybe she assumed he was joking. Lying. With the profession she chose, that logic didn't surprise him much. A low sigh escaped him, however he kept his smile.
Pulling a drag from his cigarette, he lay his arm across the back of the couch once more, shifting himself so he could watch her. She was nervous, and it was obvious. Theo wished he could do more for her, as surprisingly he wasn't feeling as awkward as he probably should have. The novelist studied her face, his warm and relaxed smile not once dimming as he watched her. She was beautiful. Far too beautiful to have to be in this field of "work". She could probably be an actress, or something equally as attention hogging with all that beauty. The expression on her face was still a little unsure of his motives, and Theo just tapped his foot with a smaller smile. At her words, however, his smile wavered only slightly. Gods, it was just so sad. She took whatever she could get? That was probably next to nothing, if his assumption on who she visited was anything he thought the guys were like. Horny middle aged men looking for a good roll in the hay, because their wives can't do it for them anymore? He'd seen the type.
Scratching at his scruff again, Theo pulled a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke from his nose as he leaned forward to flick the ash into the ashtray. A smirk made it's way to his features when she chuckled awkwardly, but he simply shook his head. "No, no. You take what you need to get by. Honestly. Take a little more if it'll help." He smiled brightly, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Trust me, I'm well off. A considerable amount of money out of my pocket to help a friend is hardly anything to be coy about." Blinking, he rubbed his forehead, laughing awkwardly. "Ugh, sorry, that probably sounds cocky... I don't mean to sound cocky, it's just the honest truth." Taking a swig of his beer, Theo silently cursed himself inwardly. He needed to learn to think before speaking. Clearing his throat, the man fiddled with the filter of the cigarette a moment before taking in a sharp intake of breath. "Look, uhm. Really, you can just take what you need. And don't be modest. Take. What. You. Need."
When she managed to finally chuckle and smile without it sounding and look false, Theo relaxed into the couch, smiling sweetly. It was adorable... the awkward actions she made, even if she wasn't aware she was doing it. The way she tucked the hair behind her ear, and the way she ruffled those brown locks. Ryan. "Ryan." he tested the name out on his tongue, and smiled when it seemed to flow nicely. "Well, Ryan. It's a real pleasure to meet you." When she began explaining awkwardly that it hardly happens, Theo figured it probably hadn't ever happened at all. A small sigh escaped him, despite himself, and he pulled a drag from his cigarette; holding the smoke in as he pondered to himself sadly. His buddies had always figured it was about time he got back into the swing of things... but the betrayal of Taisha... Theo just couldn't allow himself to get hurt again.
His brows furrowed at the thought of his ex-wife, a terribly adorable puppy dog expression taking over as he swallowed hard and kept his composure, forcing a small smile. "I don't think of it as much of a prank... my friends mean well, but they have a terrible way of expressing it." A gentle chuckle vibrated through his chest, and he shifted to drink from his bottle of beer. "They tend to think I'm like most men, and can only function happily after I've had some physical contact." A roll of his eyes probably spoke for him, but he felt he needed to explain further. "Not true. I can honestly say I could live without out. ... It'd be a sad life, but I could." A light-hearted laugh filtered through, and he tucked the beer bottle between his thighs, running his now free hand through his hair lazily. Glancing around the apartment whens he commented on it, Theo tilted his head, rolling his shoulders in a small shrug. "It's home." he admitted softly, chewing on his bottom lip out of nervous habit. Allowing a moment of silence between them, Theo finally offered a smile.
"So, what do you do other than, uhm... well." he waved his hand towards her, motioning awkwardly and hoping he didn't have to say her "job" out loud. [/style]
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