{ Modern AU; Professional Loitering } + voidrising
Twenty minutes, he'd said, and Ezreal was there in eighteen, with his sleeveless vest over a dark grey tank top and an expensive-looking pair of headphones over his ears, all but blocking out the sounds of the busy street beside him. Under the familiar green umbrellas were wrought-iron tables and chairs, and the blonde dragged one up to lounge, slightly offset, in wait for his friend.
As he waited, Ezreal pulled out his shiny purple game console, flipping it open and crossing an ankle over the opposite knee, making himself comfortable, in case Malzahar took as long as he sometimes did. He'd learned that in the time that the pair had been friends; Malz worked on his own time. Sometimes he was an hour late and others he was two hours early, and he never made any particular fuss about it.
Time meant little to his friend, it seemed, and sometimes Ezreal could believe that he was the same.
voidrising
