<div class="floatleft">(https://i.ibb.co/ggDY06q/devon-daniels-8.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Devon Daniels (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=308599.msg15007879#msg15007879)<br/><strong>Age:</strong>28<br/><strong>Sexuality:</strong>Heterosexual<br/><strong>Hometown:</strong>New York City<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>2 July, 2019 | Afternoon | Roughly 1pm-ish?<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Villa backyard | Kitchen<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Shirtless, wearing a black pair of swim trunks, shades<br/><strong>Coupled with:</strong>Cleo Balleta<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Corey, Grace - Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Devon nodded as he finished up the last of his double cheeseburger, though he wasn't quite feeling sated yet. It was unwise to work out without a proper breakfast after, but the morning had run in such an unorthodox manner for him that this was his first meal of the day. Nevertheless, turning to face the mess of the grill and some of the other cooking implements he used, he felt the compulsion to clean it up. It was a habit he seemed to develop after working at a bar. Someone got up to leave, you immediately took the glasses away, wiped their spot down, and when there was an opportunity you cleaned the glasses so they could be used by someone else.<br/><br/>He chuckled a bit at Corey's comment, though. He was quite receptive to his advice about Grace, but he was as...<em>standard</em>in his thinking about romance as most of the others here were.<br/><br/>"I'm here," he began, eyebrows rose as he turned on the water faucet, "because I lost a bet." He moved the grill and all the cooking implements to the sink, where he began the process of washing them. "Now, I'm gonna have as good of a time as I can while I'm here, but when it comes to romance?" He looked around at the pool area for a moment. Did he really want to go into another rant? Nah, he'd lectured the kid enough, and he had already spilled his guts to Cleo the night prior about all this. He'd keep it simple. "For most of us, it's lust at first sight. Rarely is love instant. Rarely is it found. Love just... happens." He smiled as he turned back to Corey. "But every so often... very rarely, love happens really quick. I think you and your girl got that chance."<br/><br/>Speak of the devil, at nearly that exact moment the platinum-haired paramour approached, delighting in the scent of cooked food. He chuckled as he began to lay the cleaned utensils out on a towel.<br/><br/>"I mean all I did was toss stuff on a grill," he shrugged. "I'm cooking capable, but I'm not really a cook. I'll leave it to some other fellow here to impress on that front. Still, help yourself. I made enough for everyone." He resumed the washing of dishes as she and Corey had their comfortable greeting. Both of them seemed to illuminate once they were in the proximity of one another. Devon grinned. They were so adorable he might have to tear the head off an Elmo doll to make up for the over-abundance of cuteness later.<br/><br/>He had to stop and give a hearty laugh as Corey introduced him as his favorite.<br/><br/>"Careful now, Grace," Devon laughed, shaking his head. "I might just be out to steal your boy there." He let the laughter wear down as he finished scrubbing down the grill. This was, naturally, the worst part, with all that meat and grease cooked on there. It allowed the couple a moment to catch up with one another, however, before he finally had everything washed off and ready for use once again. At that time he stepped around, snagging a hot dog to slip in a bun with ketchup and mustard. He looked out over the pool once more. Where had Cleo gone to, anyway?<br/><br/>He then looked back at the couple now beside him.<br/><br/>"I dunno how you guys were planning on spending the rest of the day," he said during an opportune break, "but it seems to me the name of the game is to just kill time until they stir up the pot some more. So whaddya say we stir up the pool? I'll text Cleo, and we can all have a bit of a race at the deep end. See who can do... I dunno... ten laps fastest? Is that too few or too many?"<br/><br/>Placing the hot dog in his mouth and holding it there, he patted the pockets of the swim trunks -- wasn't fashion so strange that even a man's swimwear had pockets when they were such a novelty on<em>any</em>women's clothing? -- and found the phone. It took him longer than it should take a Millennial, but he finally punched a message out to her (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=308831.msg15052815#msg15052815), inviting her down to the kitchen. Message sent, he grasped the hot dog before it became a proper mess hanging from his mouth, resuming his devouring of the processed meat wobbley.