@brokenpainter
Of course, it had to be raining the night they had set the date. Or rather maybe it wasn’t a date, but appointment sounded far too weird in Cillian’s head. Whatever it was, it was happening in half an hour’s time, and under a sheet of torrential rain. Cillian grabbed a bus, and texted when he was close enough to the place, which he knew would give Dali ample time to walk to the place. Unluckily for him, the bus got caught up in post-rush hour traffic, and he took longer than he thought he would. In addition to that, he just couldn’t make himself go inside, not yet, not until he’d had a quick fag under the protective awning of the store next to the restaurant. Rain poured, Cillian smoked his cigarette, and tried to prepare the things he was going to say. As always, he knew he would bungle it up.
Finally, after one last message apologizing for his delay, and letting him know he’d be there in two, Cillian headed into the restaurant. It was small and not too packed, and he found the back of Dali’s head right away. “Hey,” he greeted as he slipped into the seat opposite, taking off his sodden jacket and hanging it up on the back of the chair. Warm eyes greeted Dali and he was smiling a genuine smile, realizing it had been a month since he’d last seen him, and then some. Lots of words fought to come out but they all tripped up over each other, making the words that came out of his mouth sound like Good to nice to finally see you.














