“Relax, it’s not a pick-up line,” He rolls his eyes, all too aware of his reputation around the school. It’s almost guaranteed that you’ll see Jae leaving a party with another student wrapped around him (tonight, apparently is a one-off) and he isn’t ashamed of it, despite some of the looks he gets (though no one would dare say a word to his face).
What’s wrong with being wanted?
But he’s not looking for that right now, even if he is pretty cute.
“I’m not sleeping there tonight, so someone else might as well.”
His dorm room belongs to only him after his roommate decided to switch - good riddance - and with free reign over decoration, Jae has kept it minimal. He’s fairly tidy despite stumbling in almost black-out drunk at least once a week, but there’s hardly much to mess up – or steal – anyway. He didn’t see the point in bringing possessions from home.
“Just don’t take a piss on the floor or something, I don’t know. Put the sheets back properly when you’re done. It’s fine.” With a careless shrug he begins to turn and walk away, cold, delicate hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. “Are you coming or not?”
Confused, bewildered almost, blinking overcomes Cesare’s features at the other’s response to his question.
How in the hell was that supposed to even sound like a pick-up line? Given, Cesare neither has much experience with people outside of his pack - or within it, for that matter, but that’s a topic for another day - nor with humanity as a whole - and what experience he is gaining, among gas stations he’s shop-lifted from and garden shacks he’s slept in, don’t make him exactly eager to seek out any more.
“What, no, I wasn’t thinking-” but there the other goes, somehow managing to confuse the werewolf even more with his choice of words alone. Although, its more than likely that generates from Cesare’s inability to read others or gauge whatever signs of a personality are being displayed. He doesn’t do well with others. And he’s kind of missed every single shot he might have had at learning to get along with them.
So all he can offer is a disgusted face at the mention of pissing on the floor. Goodness shit, is that what humans are up to nowadays? Well, thank god for being a born werewolf, in that case. Or at least he hopes to be... is he even a- yeah, no, that’s a bad train of thought.
He shakes his head lightly, getting rid of the cloud of his own thoughts. Instead of wasting any more time on it after that, Cesare stares after the male, clear distrust darkening his eyes ever so slightly when the dim light and the other’s back turned to him allow him to portray something a little more honest.
Really, does he have much of a choice? He’s barely made it this far, his ability to sneak around isn’t as good as it used to be, what with the limp he starts sporting whenever it’s hot enough, or cold enough, or wet enough, or dry enough, whenever it’s day or night, or he’s walking for too long or standing for too long, it’s like whenever he’s settled into some sort of something, the leg reminds him of everything he’s no longer allowed.
Like a shelter during a stormy summer night - and the storm will come, he wouldn’t put it past some humans to smell it, too.
So... what choice does he have? Say no? Go back, try to find another location before the first lightning strikes through the sky and paints it white, for the brief second it lasts? Or land outside, risk dying like a wet dog, just another roadkill defiling an unnamed country road, an end fitting for his character?
“Yeah, yeah, I’m... I’m coming,” he’s going to regret this, he feels it. And yet, his feet begin to move.