Room 301, Monday Afternoon

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was having trouble focusing.

She didn't even have anything in particular that needed her undivided attention, so it shouldn't have been a problem. But it was annoying. She didn't like moods like this. What was the point of not being able to get lost in doing anything? Ugh. And she'd already been down at the gym training, too. And both her closets were as organized as they were going to get. And she didn't feel like shopping.

So, this was how you ended up pacing around the room like a caged animal. It was not a good look on her.

Maybe she needed to go for a run or something.

[ooc: Open post, open door!]

Comments

[seveninchmotto]

"Well, I've been trying," she informed him. "But I've already covered almost all of my usual avenues, and they're either not working or not drawing my interest in the first place."

[flickofthewrist]

"...is there anything you want to be doing?" he wondered curiously.

[seveninchmotto]

"I don't know."

She was just going to wrinkle her nose and look displeased at the whole thing.

[flickofthewrist]

"Okay," Flick said, raising an eyebrow. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle gave him a withering look. "Does it seem like the answer is likely to be anything other than exactly what I already said?"

Give her a second, she might figure something out.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick rolled his eyes. "Well, call me or something if I can help. I can leave you to it."

[seveninchmotto]

"No, don't. I've already tried being alone." And that had gotten her whining at him about her boredom. So, she needed to explore other options. "When did you get back, anyway?"

[flickofthewrist]

"Few hours ago," he told her, shrugging and crossing his arms. "I showered, shaved and changed before coming down here."

[seveninchmotto]

"For me, or just because you lived like a hobo for a day?"

That was a joke, or close enough to it. She was trying. She also took a few steps closer to him, her heels clicking against the floor. (If you were going to pace, you might as well do it in style.)

[flickofthewrist]

"For me, actually," Flick told her, watching her come closer. "Joi's kids hogged the bathrooms this morning so I didn't get a chance to shower. I felt gross."

[seveninchmotto]

"I'll still take some credit," Isabelle decided. She stopped in front of him. "You don't tend to come hang around near me when you're gross."

[flickofthewrist]

"True," Flick said, nodding. "I try to be smart about my hygiene when it comes to you."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle put her hands on his shoulders. "That's very much appreciated. I don't need grossness in my life. I get enough of it in my job."

[flickofthewrist]

"I'd argue that I am never gross," Flick told her, shaking his head. "Just unkempt sometimes."

[seveninchmotto]

"You'd argue a lot of things, and not all of them are true," she retorted. "But, you're right about this one. I'm not sure I've ever seen you that gross."

Not outside that one time he'd been covered in blood and dirt, anyway.

[flickofthewrist]

"There's always room for me to get that gross, though," he said, giving her a little smirk. "Maybe you'd like it. Get all rough around the edges and scruffy."

[seveninchmotto]

"Scruffy and rough around the edges does not equal gross," Isabelle replied. Her fingers rubbed absently at his shoulders. "Gross is just gross."

[flickofthewrist]

"Have you ever seen me gross?" he wondered. "You didn't like my scruffiness too much either, I remember."

[seveninchmotto]

"I've seen you bloodied up, it was gross enough." So there. "As for the scruff... I could live with it, but I prefer not to."

[flickofthewrist]

"So picky," Flick teased, shaking his head at her. "Guess that means no stylish goatees fro me."

[seveninchmotto]

"You don't think goatees are stylish," she retorted. "Although as far as the issue of scratchiness goes, a goatee wouldn't be as bad as some other styles."

[flickofthewrist]

"So concerned about the state of your thighs," he joked, shaking his head. "I will do my best to keep my facial hair to a minimum."

[seveninchmotto]

"Good puppy," Isabelle replied lightly. One of her hands had stilled, but the other was still idly rubbing his shoulder. She wasn't managing to be completely still right now. "We shouldn't have any problems."

[flickofthewrist]

"Hopefully not," he said, tilting his head at her. "You figured out a cure for your boredom yet?"

[seveninchmotto]

The rubbing turned into tapping against his shoulder.

"Maybe."