Expect the unexpected should just be Hazel’s new motto. Things happen to her without her ever having an inkling that they are going to happen lately. It was more than she could handle at this point in time. So with several shots and a joint later, Hazel’s mind instantly thought of one person in particular where she didn’t have to be serious or talk about anything that was important: Sage. The two of them have know one another for quite some time now, almost as if the two of them had known one another for longer. It was a constant battle of flirtation, even when Hazel didn’t give it back in return. Somehow Sage still had the capacity even when Hazel was being a total bitch and unphased by his words.
The woman made a brief stop at the corner store, picking up a variety of snacks – moreso on the sweet side – and then continued her way to Sage’s place. Hazel being in an obvious unsober state by glazed eyes and slurred speech, not only was she grabbing snacks as a peace offering of sorts to Sage, but she was going to need them as well. She reached the male’s place, knocking on the door. When he didn’t answer in a matter of seconds, she started saying in a sing-song type of tone, “Saage oh Sage – It’s meeee, Champagneeee.” In between her words she made soft, quiet giggles. Just then, the woman remembered where Sage had left his spare key. If you didn’t know, it actually was a pretty clever hiding place. As she opened the door she called out, ”I brought snacks!”
Once she made eye contact with Sage she began, “Alright – I don’t know about you but, I’ve had a real shitty week. I know you don’t want to hear it but long story short, my past came, bent me over and royally fucked me in the ass. So, you and I are gonna talk shit and watch Stand By Me, The Lost Boys, Top Gun, Gremlins,” she waved her hands in the air and shook her head, “–Honestly I don’t give a shit what it is, Sage. We’re going back to the eighties tonight. Okay? Okay.”
he’s had something like fifteen apartments since moving out of his dad’s house, the unpredictable cash flow of freelance life combined with how easily he can forget to do things such as submit his payments has led to more than one eviction notice landing on his doorstep over the years. his current place is just another apartment on the list to him. there’s enough space for his couch and somewhere to plug in the ridiculous sixty inch plasma television he once blew an entire paycheck for a case on, so as far as sage is concerned it’s got everything he could possibly need.
he was flipping through some files on a case with weird science or ferris bueller’s day off or teen wolf on for background noise while he ate three - quarters of a large hawaiian pizza from beyond the crust by himself. it all rushed back to him the moment he jolted awake, startled by the telltale click of his front door being unlocked. dozed off on the couch, sage mused as scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. he had let out a small sound of relief the moment that he realized the voice was familiar, his mood flipping instantly. “haaaaaaazel,” he greeted her in the same singsong tone that he always uses when he sees her. some days it’s solely to annoy her, but if she seems down then it’s to try and get a smile out of her.
sage was smiling thinly as he lifted his head and looked at her. glazed over eyes and armfuls of snacks that it looked like she had ripped off the racks without even looking at the labels means that she’s probably wasted. his brain worked in its usual hyper - observant way. he began collecting the papers from his case file that were scattered all around him on the couch. once he was done, he patted the spot beside him and gestured to the three slices of pizza that were left in the box on his coffee table. “it’s probably cold, but have at it,” he told hazel, quickly growing distracted as he glanced around in search of the remote. “can you at least tell me who we’re talking shit about?”
