Closing time was approaching when Eric returned home. He walked through the door to his office, dropped his keys on a shelf next to the door with an "Evening ladies," and popped a TruBlood in the microwave.
He had the air and swagger of a man returning home from a game and a few ( or more) beers. Which meant one of two things; sex or a fight. Or a fairy, but that was less likely all things considered.
He was dirty, disheveled, and there was a bullet hole smack in the middle of his tshirt. And dried blood on his chin.
no subject
Closing time was approaching when Eric returned home. He walked through the door to his office, dropped his keys on a shelf next to the door with an "Evening ladies," and popped a TruBlood in the microwave.
He had the air and swagger of a man returning home from a game and a few ( or more) beers. Which meant one of two things; sex or a fight.
Or a fairy, but that was less likely all things considered.
He was dirty, disheveled, and there was a bullet hole smack in the middle of his tshirt.
And dried blood on his chin.