Since he'd consumed his purchase, the only item he had returned was the book his little brother had thoughtfully purchased, which his always talkative escort threw over without a word. Damon caught it and swung open the door to his room. The rustling told him that his roommate was already inside and sure enough, Herr Blondie was at his desk, chronicling his innermost feelings for the day.
His gaze swept over the grocery bag as he walked by it. "How was retail therapy?"
Insofar as that town even counted as retail. Did the locals just rely on Amazon.com or was there a hidden underground network of actual shopping? Come to think of it, were their six year olds all doing online distance ed, as well, or what? He'd found a town or two that was too small to have a college. He'd never found one too small to have a school, period. If there'd ever been a reason to label a town a setup, well. There you were.
As usual, he didn't give a second look at the food. Instead, he tossed the copy of Gone with the Wind on top of the dresser and got onto the bed without bothering to kick off his boots. After a moment, he picked up the book, flipping open the cover absently.
Stefan, he knew, was worried. Not about him, of course; about the rest of the surrounding population. That was the only reason why his brother was going out of his way to play nice. Hardly the first time Stefan had done this. It would pass, and then they'd rinse and repeat. That was the problem with eternity: after awhile, you realized things didn't ever change or grow, they just cycled forever.
no subject
His gaze swept over the grocery bag as he walked by it. "How was retail therapy?"
Insofar as that town even counted as retail. Did the locals just rely on Amazon.com or was there a hidden underground network of actual shopping? Come to think of it, were their six year olds all doing online distance ed, as well, or what? He'd found a town or two that was too small to have a college. He'd never found one too small to have a school, period. If there'd ever been a reason to label a town a setup, well. There you were.
As usual, he didn't give a second look at the food. Instead, he tossed the copy of Gone with the Wind on top of the dresser and got onto the bed without bothering to kick off his boots. After a moment, he picked up the book, flipping open the cover absently.
Stefan, he knew, was worried. Not about him, of course; about the rest of the surrounding population. That was the only reason why his brother was going out of his way to play nice. Hardly the first time Stefan had done this. It would pass, and then they'd rinse and repeat. That was the problem with eternity: after awhile, you realized things didn't ever change or grow, they just cycled forever.