an apple-eater (ex_stateline124) wrote in 500_aday,
an apple-eater

Sean doesn’t have to see out onto the landing to know how Tony is fumbling with his pockets, all bundled up in threadbare coats and a thick wool scarf, scrambling with frozen, clumsy fingers at the fabric. He can imagine the soft, subconscious snort of triumph as Tony uncovers the house key, a look of final resolution to force open the door without taking it off the hinges again. He can already see the weary limbs melting into his own, a comfortable intimacy, but he busies himself instead with slipping into the tepid tub water that sloshes around his ankles.

I also have like 4 drabbles to post later... :D
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