Vandyke Oakes
Male
21
Lead Fighter [8]
Tags: Mika; Cybil
With a yawn Van opened his golden eyes and stared at the ceiling. He had taken the good right to sleep a short time, so as not to sway completely on the second day.
Enough sleep, of course, had It not been, but better than nothing, especially after the day yesterday.
With slow movements, the young man rolled out of bed, glancing calmly on the naked feet. The boards of the wooden floor were uncomfortably cold and he played with the thought of creeping under the soft blanket again, but shook his head.
It was his plane to get up in time.
With a dumb yawn, he stretched his arms in the air, stretched his muscles, and let his neck crack, before he drowsyly dived into the bathroom to shower.
The shower helped him get a clear head. He showered, as always, cold, as he was not used to do it any other way.
As he dressed, his hair just rubbed dry, he could not help but admire the furnishings again. At home, the curtains were draped and gray, the floor dusty, and the furniture dirty. Here everything looked like new. As from a catalog.
Since Van did not suppose that people were already in the kitchen, it was still pitch-dark outside, he simply put on a pair of jeans.
He was practically never cold and he found it pleasantly to walk body-free through the house, but only when he was alone. When people stared at his scars or his tattoos, it felt rather unpleasant for him.
Quietly he came strolling into the kitchen, his head turned to the ground and lost in thought, then he noticed that light was burning and he lifted his head.
Of course, it was exactly the two people whom he would have liked to avoid at the moment, Cybil and Mika.
He pressed his lips together as the embarrassment came back to him, thinking of the events of the last night, and the only thing he had brought out was a short: "Morning."
Enough sleep, of course, had It not been, but better than nothing, especially after the day yesterday.
With slow movements, the young man rolled out of bed, glancing calmly on the naked feet. The boards of the wooden floor were uncomfortably cold and he played with the thought of creeping under the soft blanket again, but shook his head.
It was his plane to get up in time.
With a dumb yawn, he stretched his arms in the air, stretched his muscles, and let his neck crack, before he drowsyly dived into the bathroom to shower.
The shower helped him get a clear head. He showered, as always, cold, as he was not used to do it any other way.
As he dressed, his hair just rubbed dry, he could not help but admire the furnishings again. At home, the curtains were draped and gray, the floor dusty, and the furniture dirty. Here everything looked like new. As from a catalog.
Since Van did not suppose that people were already in the kitchen, it was still pitch-dark outside, he simply put on a pair of jeans.
He was practically never cold and he found it pleasantly to walk body-free through the house, but only when he was alone. When people stared at his scars or his tattoos, it felt rather unpleasant for him.
Quietly he came strolling into the kitchen, his head turned to the ground and lost in thought, then he noticed that light was burning and he lifted his head.
Of course, it was exactly the two people whom he would have liked to avoid at the moment, Cybil and Mika.
He pressed his lips together as the embarrassment came back to him, thinking of the events of the last night, and the only thing he had brought out was a short: "Morning."
