His own chai latte was being worked on and he almost did not pick up on the other man; normally he did not especially when he had things on his mind (such as keeping the boys in the dorm out of trouble which was easier said than done. He watched this with as if it was lulling him into a state of contentment, where he could almost feel the heat with the steam.
Then he looked up from his wanderings at the tone of voice.
Familiar-- very very familiar.
Riley glanced over to his right and there was the singular most beautiful man he'd ever seen, dark hair and distracting eyes-- a bit of scruff. Taller than him but not by much, and the voice. It was from the confessional booth some two weeks ago, he mentally counted it down in his head.. indeed, two weeks in which he'd allowed it to move even further into the shadows of his mind. And therefore came the conundrum, did he feign recognition or did he pretend that he did not remember. It would bring his sin count up to a few, to lie.
But perhaps a hazy half, as if he could not precisely recall.
Even though he did-- vividly. He'd dreamed of that voice. "Only when I find a suitable need for coffee that I do not make myself." he said with a smile and a raise of his brow. "The running of a dorm eats up quite a bit of time so I make due with a simple french press most of the time." one of those little things that his grandmother had sent him, put the coffee in, pour hot water over it and then squeeze until something approaching drinkable was obtained. "And you?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-05-15 02:45 am (UTC)Then he looked up from his wanderings at the tone of voice.
Familiar-- very very familiar.
Riley glanced over to his right and there was the singular most beautiful man he'd ever seen, dark hair and distracting eyes-- a bit of scruff. Taller than him but not by much, and the voice. It was from the confessional booth some two weeks ago, he mentally counted it down in his head.. indeed, two weeks in which he'd allowed it to move even further into the shadows of his mind. And therefore came the conundrum, did he feign recognition or did he pretend that he did not remember. It would bring his sin count up to a few, to lie.
But perhaps a hazy half, as if he could not precisely recall.
Even though he did-- vividly. He'd dreamed of that voice. "Only when I find a suitable need for coffee that I do not make myself." he said with a smile and a raise of his brow. "The running of a dorm eats up quite a bit of time so I make due with a simple french press most of the time." one of those little things that his grandmother had sent him, put the coffee in, pour hot water over it and then squeeze until something approaching drinkable was obtained. "And you?"