<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/de/46/00/de460000d103b2a84c5891d8aeb1819e.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Wyatt Colton Faulkner (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12370769#msg12370769)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>St. Cloud, Minnesota | I-Hop | January 2014 | 11:30 p.m.<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Silky Levres (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12373275#msg12373275)<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Another day, Another dollar<br/><hr/><br/>Wyatt was beyond mortified, especially when his attempts to rectify the clusterfuck of a mess he created only yielded more disastrous results. By the disbelieving inflection of her voice, Silky believed he was yet another trick to be turned for profit. The only position outcome of his total fuck-up was the fact that she agreed to come back to his apartment with him rather than spend the night in God knows where, shivering underneath some bridge or banging on the doors of a shelter.<br/><br/>Her potential denial was one of his main fears upon his stupid decision to approach her rather than head out of the door into the snowfall. He had absolutely no idea how to convince Silky of coming with him without propositioning her. If he was in her position, he would run as fast and hard as he could in the opposite direction.<br/><br/>People, even before the craziness involving the evolved, were out of their minds. As a result, simple acts of kindness or common courtesy underwent heavy scrutiny rather than being readily accepted by those who found themselves in its presence.<br/><br/>Silky proved herself to be a better liar, immediately transforming his inappropriate question into a statement which would not cause both of them to spend the night in a cold, police cell, Then again, maybe she was not the best liar since he doubted people thought her some poor, struggling artist.<br/><br/>He took a step back in attempt not to crowd her as she stepped from the table, pulling the sweater back over her head. Immediately, his face began to burn when she mentioned ‘hanging out’ in a tone which one normally did not use when speaking about playing board games. Monopoly and Sorry! were fun but entertaining and all but not worth that type of reaction.<br/><br/>“We s-should head out,” he said as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “The bus driver is a bit of a douche and does not like waiting even when he sees people coming.”<br/><br/>Letting her head out in front of him, he slipped a few dollars on the table in order to pay for the coffee before he waved farewell to his co-workers. Wyatt then led the way out into the cold and tried to match his pace to hers, not wanting her to rush and accidentally slip on the icy sidewalk. It was a close call but they made it to the bus stop.<br/><br/>True to his word, the ride did not take too long as there were only a few stops till they reached the stop directly in front of his apartment complex. A pull of the string signaled the bus driver to stop before he exited out of the back door rather than the front. The outside of the building required more than its fair share of work. Some of the windows were boarded up while dark plastic covered others. Wyatt fumbled around in his pockets, searching for his keys, as he approached the door. He felt like he should say something but words escaped him at the moment. Rather than babble nonsensically, he withdrew the keys and then unlocked the door, holding it open for her to enter first.<br/><br/>“Final stop is on the eighth floor,” he indicated with a point in the direction of the stairwell. As always the elevator was out of order. It never worked and probably never will since his landlord preferred to keep his money in his pockets than making improvements around his property. He was out of breath by the time they reached his floor but he did not stop like usual to catch his breath, forcing himself to keep walking.<br/><br/>The inside of Wyatt’s apartment was nothing spectacular. Most of his furniture had been acquired from secondhand stores or picked up from dumpsters. Rich people had a tendency of throwing out perfectly good furniture.<br/><br/>“Umm, do you want something to drink?” He offered as he took his coat off to hang on the coat hook directly by the door before he toed off his shoes as well, revealing a holey sock.<br/>