continuation. @floripire
stoic like a guard in front of a palace , a man built to keep the world out. conrad lingers in the doorway, the chilled breeze of the falling night blowing through the entrance of his home, curling beneath his sweater. a candle flickers on a small, oak table next to the bottom of the staircase behind him. his mother's favorite scent.
gently floral, cotton, the hint of a sea breeze. linens on a clothesline in summer.
" i don't care who she's dating. "
perhaps it's a partial truth, though passion doesn't guide his investment in the matter. it's an ugly thought, but aubrey had a way of stumbling into a room, of being in the right place as the clock chimed darkly. she was always... there, and 'there' isn't love. his hand presses into the frame of the door as he considers her request. " well, i guess you did come all this way... " the soft beginnings of a smile and then he's collecting his keys, his jacket, his own playful jab rumbling at the back of his throat. " besides, i feel bad that you don't have anyone else to go with. this can be my good cause. "
