#daniel whitaker

[owenharding-rp]

Neighbours || Owen and Daniel

"Coffee or tea?" Owen clarified.

Daniel shrugged, "Both are fine, although I have no single preference. On some days I feel like a triple shot espresso. On others, I just feel like Earl Grey."

Owen nodded in understanding, he was partial to a good mocha but sometimes, pure black tea was the way to go. "I think I feel like some tea. It's not cold enough for mocha, in my opinion." He ordered his drink and sat at one of the counters, waiting for his order and began observing the patrons around him. The big city offered a kind of anonymity that Owen was unfamiliar, but no uncomfortable, with.

Turning towards Daniel, he took a sip of his tea and relaxed into his seat. He enjoyed the comfort of silent company and white noise around him. It bode well, that the day he moved in he had a neighbour friend. It certainly relieved much of his stress and it truly seemed that he had left his past behind him.

[owenharding-rp]

Neighbours || Owen and Daniel

"Thanks guys. Just leave them here, I'll do the rest myself." Owen said, shaking the hands of the movers that had kindly carried his furniture up the stairs and into his loft. All that was left was the multitude of cardboard boxes filled with everything else.

The carrying wasn't much of a big deal. It was the walking without crashing into things that was giving him a hard time. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes. He needed to get rid of these damn contacts, but his glasses were in one of the boxes. He huffed a little before picking up two of the cardboard boxes.

Owen turned around and promptly stumbled a little. "Shh-crap. Oops, dammit. I'm fine." He said out loud, hoping that there was no one there to see him. Not that it matter, they probably couldn't see him behind the boxes.