Just Crash at My Place
Marcus looked around as his heavy-duty boots landed on cold cement. He stayed in his low crouch as he looked around the old washers and dryers around him. Once he was assured no one was around, he stood and sighed. He dropped his large black backpack with a resounding thump. He headed toward a low table that looked mostly sturdy. He stepped onto its surface, and bounced a bit. He made a panicked face and jumped off as it creaked ominously.
"Okay, not going to work." He tipped back his head and raked his shaggy black hair back. He grimaced as he realized his hair felt greasy. He didn't want to think about how badly he probably smelt. He didn't even remember when his last shower was. He hated that. He hated the fact that he had grown comfortable where he had been. He hated that he was still scared enough to run from him. He had grown. But he lowered his guard. He had almost gotten caught.
He roughly shoved back the sleeves of two sweatshirts, and one very, very thick jacket, to look at the beaten up face of his face. Twenty minutes till eleven. Eleven was the curfew for all minors in this town. And although he was no longer a minor, he was still young enough to be suspicious of... And he could not get caught. At all costs.
He looked at the line of dryers to his left. "Make do, boy. You've slept in worse places." He squeezed his eyes shut, and pulled off the thick jacket to bundle it up in a ball, his pillow for the night. He pulled out a hair tie he had found earlier that day around the bundle. Marcus thought that with it being held together, it would stay better, and he might get more sleep. He could only hope.
He went to his backpack and pulled out a thin plaid blanket and moved the bag so it slouched against the dryer. He hopped onto the row of dryers, and was surprised to find that it was slightly warm. Who would do laundry this late?
He didn't knock it, because hey, it was warm. He sighed, and brought his knees to his chest, so he could loosen the laces of his boots. He learned years ago never to actually take off his shoes to sleep. You never knew when you had to run if you were surprised in the morning. Or more importantly, if they were still on, you had a better chance of avoiding would-be thieves. That was one of the first things he learned on the streets.
He stretched out as much as he could on the narrow strip of space he had, then curled up, and flung his thin blanket over his body. He tucked his jacket beneath his head, and tried to relax. He never really did, but in minutes he was asleep.
Fallyn wrapped her electric yellow sweatshirt tighter around her body as she neared the door to the laundry room. She paused as her phone vibrated from the waistband of her bright teal sweats. She pulled her phone out and groaned as she saw that, once again, her ex-boyfriend Samson texting her. She slid her phone open to read his text. 'Babe, r u sure? cuz im the capt of the football team. U cant do better thn ME'
"Why that obnoxious PRICK." she ground out with clenched teeth. As she hit reply, she knew he would get back at her for what she would say, but honestly she didn't care. 'U ass-fuck leave me alone. I said it was over last week when you sent me a pic of ur TINY DICK. Ask me again, I WILL send it to all ur stupid groupies. Now FUCK OFF'
She closed her phone with a snap and slid it back into her waistband. She sighed in annoyance and pulled the hair tie out of her damp hair before it could affect her drying hair. She pushed the door open and went in before she stopped short at the sight of someone sleeping on top of the machines that held her clothes. She cautiously went forward to look at him, then wrinkled her nose as she realized he smelt... not too horribly. But he obviously hadn't taken a bath in a while. His hair was in his face so she don't know what he looked like, but there was a backpack in front of the dryer. She glanced back up at the guy, then quickly knelt, and slowly unzipped the bag. She frowned as she saw clothes, that weren't in the best of shape. And an envelope in a plastic zip-lock baggie. She chewed her lip, then reached for it, and opened the bag.
Suddenly, a hand shot down and locked her wrist is a vise-like grip. She gasped in shock and pain, and the grip instantly loosened.
"Who are you?" a very deep voice growled. Fallyn looked up to see him, glared at her furiously. "What are you doing?"
"I came to get my laundry. You're sleeping on top of it."
"So instead of waking me up, you decide to go through my things. Not the best thought."
She stood carefully, since he still held her wrist. He sat up, and took the opened bag from her captive hand before he released it. "Sorry. You looked... tired I didn't really want to disturb you. I'd thought I'd find I.D or something... Sorry."
"Okay, not going to work." He tipped back his head and raked his shaggy black hair back. He grimaced as he realized his hair felt greasy. He didn't want to think about how badly he probably smelt. He didn't even remember when his last shower was. He hated that. He hated the fact that he had grown comfortable where he had been. He hated that he was still scared enough to run from him. He had grown. But he lowered his guard. He had almost gotten caught.
He roughly shoved back the sleeves of two sweatshirts, and one very, very thick jacket, to look at the beaten up face of his face. Twenty minutes till eleven. Eleven was the curfew for all minors in this town. And although he was no longer a minor, he was still young enough to be suspicious of... And he could not get caught. At all costs.
He looked at the line of dryers to his left. "Make do, boy. You've slept in worse places." He squeezed his eyes shut, and pulled off the thick jacket to bundle it up in a ball, his pillow for the night. He pulled out a hair tie he had found earlier that day around the bundle. Marcus thought that with it being held together, it would stay better, and he might get more sleep. He could only hope.
He went to his backpack and pulled out a thin plaid blanket and moved the bag so it slouched against the dryer. He hopped onto the row of dryers, and was surprised to find that it was slightly warm. Who would do laundry this late?
He didn't knock it, because hey, it was warm. He sighed, and brought his knees to his chest, so he could loosen the laces of his boots. He learned years ago never to actually take off his shoes to sleep. You never knew when you had to run if you were surprised in the morning. Or more importantly, if they were still on, you had a better chance of avoiding would-be thieves. That was one of the first things he learned on the streets.
He stretched out as much as he could on the narrow strip of space he had, then curled up, and flung his thin blanket over his body. He tucked his jacket beneath his head, and tried to relax. He never really did, but in minutes he was asleep.
Fallyn wrapped her electric yellow sweatshirt tighter around her body as she neared the door to the laundry room. She paused as her phone vibrated from the waistband of her bright teal sweats. She pulled her phone out and groaned as she saw that, once again, her ex-boyfriend Samson texting her. She slid her phone open to read his text. 'Babe, r u sure? cuz im the capt of the football team. U cant do better thn ME'
"Why that obnoxious PRICK." she ground out with clenched teeth. As she hit reply, she knew he would get back at her for what she would say, but honestly she didn't care. 'U ass-fuck leave me alone. I said it was over last week when you sent me a pic of ur TINY DICK. Ask me again, I WILL send it to all ur stupid groupies. Now FUCK OFF'
She closed her phone with a snap and slid it back into her waistband. She sighed in annoyance and pulled the hair tie out of her damp hair before it could affect her drying hair. She pushed the door open and went in before she stopped short at the sight of someone sleeping on top of the machines that held her clothes. She cautiously went forward to look at him, then wrinkled her nose as she realized he smelt... not too horribly. But he obviously hadn't taken a bath in a while. His hair was in his face so she don't know what he looked like, but there was a backpack in front of the dryer. She glanced back up at the guy, then quickly knelt, and slowly unzipped the bag. She frowned as she saw clothes, that weren't in the best of shape. And an envelope in a plastic zip-lock baggie. She chewed her lip, then reached for it, and opened the bag.
Suddenly, a hand shot down and locked her wrist is a vise-like grip. She gasped in shock and pain, and the grip instantly loosened.
"Who are you?" a very deep voice growled. Fallyn looked up to see him, glared at her furiously. "What are you doing?"
"I came to get my laundry. You're sleeping on top of it."
"So instead of waking me up, you decide to go through my things. Not the best thought."
She stood carefully, since he still held her wrist. He sat up, and took the opened bag from her captive hand before he released it. "Sorry. You looked... tired I didn't really want to disturb you. I'd thought I'd find I.D or something... Sorry."