Just Some Friendly Advice
[“The weather had turned colder than my ex-wife’s heart, which was saying something since Felicia could make an iceberg want a jacket. The snow had been coming down in fits and spurts for days building up in the streets, driving even the most hardy of individuals inside.
I had managed to find one of the only open gin joints in the big apple and taken up residence on the stool furthest from the door. Going back to the cave meant Dollface asking questions that I didn’t want to answer just yet. So, instead, I was sitting there at the bar, staring into the bottom of a glass.”]
Peter was not having the best day. Not only were things still not completely copacetic between Erik and himself, but he’d just had to fight and kill the spectre of his Uncle Ben. It had left him in an even worse mood than he usually was. Rubbing his palm over his cheek he sighed, his stubble was growing in thicker than he normally let it, but he hadn’t had the will to bother shaving. He was all up in knots about potentially gumming the works with Erik again, and it didn’t lend well to his productivity.
Shaking his head Peter got the bar tender’s attention and ordered another drink, draining half the glass of whiskey in one go. Maybe if he got drunk enough he’d find a way out of the doghouse he was in.
@mutanthope










