and then the storm || hamratio
Post-work, Horatio loved nothing more than a bottle of wine and a home cooked meal--today’s menu featured a rabbit and mushroom risotto that he’d happily spent an hour or two working on and an obnoxiously expensive glass of amarone that Hamlet had purchased on a whim, but Horatio knew he would never drink it. Red wine was rarely his roommate’s poison of choice--though just about everything else was--and Horatio figured that someone ought to enjoy it. He deserved it, damn it, it’d been a long day at work.
Horatio was one of the newest lawyers in his firm, which meant that he spent most of his day doing what everyone else told him--as if he didn’t have plenty of work of his own. The paperwork wasn’t the worst part, nor was dealing with individual clients. In fact, he loved the one on one work with the clients, since they tended to look up to him in a way that fueled Horatio’s ego. No, the worst part was having to deal with the nimrods who were above him. So many of them were only there because their daddies had been lawyers, or golf buddies of lawyers, and now they were pushing their work onto Horatio, because they could.
And now that Horatio was finally home, he was just relieved to not have to deal with their bullshit, at least not until monday. He was playing his favorite news station and had a nice glass of wine and a warm plate of food. With the balcony door open, a warm breeze came into the main room, leaving Horatio a little warm, which was his preference. Verona’s quiet hustling and bustling filled the empty apartment. His roommate was not home, so the house was clean. It all the makings of a decent night that would lead to a weekend that was worth-wild.