♫ for your ears -- ( salt / bad suns ) -- @caden-santos
Green enjoyed following the 11:37pm breeze, following it to the other entrance of Howlett’s after a night of wandering about aimlessly. Contrary to what people might have thought about him, Green was at heart an introvert, worn down by long days of socializing about birds and playing dumb pranks. The nights were when he could recuperate himself, think about himself. He’d always ended his walks with some kind of tune floating around in his head, and when his r’s were practically rolling he always wound up at Caden’s door, his knuckles drumming over the oaken wood 105 door. “Yo, Red. Open up,” he called out into the wood, knocking on the bare walls next to the door frame to try and catch his attention. “It’s important. Like, kind of important, ish.”
He continued playing a steady rhythm onto the door until it opened up. Green simply rose an eyebrow before he felt a half-smile stretch over his face. “Yo, so,” he said, swanning nonchalantly into the other’s apartment. “We don’t have snacks for tomorrow’s jam session. Like, no Oreos, no Bagel Bites, no Goldfish. We need to go to the grocery story right now. Any questions? No? Aight. Get our band sweater on, you always look cute in that. Not as cute as me, but you get the picture.”